Volume One, Chapter Eight: Victoria, the Goddess of Online Romance

Seeing that Assistant Fang had accepted her friend request, Shen Zhaowu scrolled through her WeChat contacts.

She found “Jiang Yao” and deleted the contact.

Then she deleted several more friends with whom she had no interaction.

Just as she was about to exit, her alternate WeChat account suddenly buzzed with a flurry of notifications, as if struck by lightning—dozens of new messages popped up one after another.

Shen Zhaowu raised her brows.

Her alternate account—more accurately, her work account—had very few contacts.

Cold River’s Past: [Victoria, you’re finally online!]

[I’m about to faint from anger. My eldest brother transferred half my shares to my sister’s name. This is outrageous! Fortunately, I still have you…]

[…]

Shen Zhaowu glanced past a dozen or so messages in between. They were nothing more than compliments on her beauty, praises of her talent, calling her his muse, his source of inspiration.

Back then, Shen Hanchuan had displayed extraordinary talent on the piano, dazzling everyone, but that brilliance also earned him jealousy, isolation, and suppression from the orchestra. Even scandals began to swirl around him. He visibly sank into melancholy.

That was the darkest period of Shen Hanchuan’s life, before Jiang Yao had appeared.

Unwilling to see her second brother drown himself in sorrow and alcohol every day, Shen Zhaowu created an alternate WeChat account and added Shen Hanchuan.

She comforted him, encouraged him, and even composed music for him.

At an international competition, Shen Hanchuan won the championship with a piano piece titled “Moonlight Eternal.” From then on, he became the most dazzling genius pianist and finally shook off the shadows of his past.

The composer’s name for “Moonlight Eternal” was—

—Victoria.

Shen Zhaowu had originally intended to tell Shen Hanchuan that she was Victoria.

But unexpectedly, he gave her a rude awakening with a slap.

[Victoria, you haven’t answered me in so long. I’m sad orz… When can we finally meet? QAQ] It was hard to imagine this cute, spoiled tone coming from Shen Hanchuan.

In front of Victoria, Shen Hanchuan was like her obedient dog.

But was this dog more loyal to Jiang Yao, or did he listen more to Victoria?

A playful smile appeared on Shen Zhaowu’s lips.

Her fingertips brushed her lips as she pondered for a moment, then typed: [Let’s not talk about meeting. I was recently hospitalized by my brother’s beating. I’m really not well and can’t think about these things right now.]

Cold River’s Past replied instantly: [Are you alright? Your brother is a monster! I wish I could kill him!]

The next second.

[The other party has sent you a transfer of 100,000 yuan. Awaiting your acceptance.]

Shen Zhaowu: “……”

When he’s older, selling him insurance will be a guaranteed success.

She accepted the money without hesitation.

She needed to save up; if she was ever driven out by her three brothers, at least she wouldn’t starve on the streets. This hundred thousand yuan sat comfortably in Shen Zhaowu’s account.

Now that she had his money, Shen Zhaowu found herself a little more patient with him—after all, he was her “sponsor.”

Victoria: [Thank you. If I get a chance, I’ll pay you back someday.] Not likely.

Cold River’s Past: [It’s just a small amount, you don’t need to pay it back QAQ. Victoria, I have a piano performance tonight. Will you come watch? …]

He could barely contain his excitement.

Just imagining his goddess sitting in the audience tonight made Shen Hanchuan both nervous and elated, like a love-struck young boy.

Victoria: [I’m in a complicated mood these days. I promise you, I’ll definitely come to one of your performances in the future, alright?]

Cold River’s Past: [(emoji)(emoji)(emoji) Alright then…]

With his goddess online, Shen Hanchuan typed with lightning speed.

No one would have guessed that the cool, gentle, and brilliant young pianist was falling in love online.

Or, more accurately, that he was admiring someone from afar, all on his own.

Shen Zhaowu couldn’t hold back a laugh.

But then, from the next room, she heard a rebellious voice ring out, “So annoying! Ever since I signed with this stupid company, they’ve been forcing me onto all kinds of ridiculous variety shows to make money. I’ve been slandered online until I’m black as coal!”

His manager was terrified. “Keep your voice down. Is this something to brag about?”

“I’d love to get you piano performances, but can you compare to Shen Hanchuan? Can your tickets outsell his?”

“We put you on variety shows to boost your popularity. That way, when you do get a stage, you’ll have fans to cheer you on and your tickets won’t be a flop. Why can’t you see how hard the company’s working for you?”

The young man, cigarette dangling from his lips, leaned lazily against the wall. His long, slender fingers played with a metallic lighter. He scoffed, “I don’t get it. I just want to play the piano.”

His slightly long black hair fell over his fine brows and eyes, lips thin and tinged red, impossibly attractive.

He frowned in irritation. “I’ll say it again. Stop booking me for those garbage variety shows. I’m not an idiot.”

His manager ran out of patience, slamming the table with a cold laugh. “Fu Ming, if you can’t stand it, terminate your contract and leave. The penalty is three million. Can you afford that? Without the company, how will you even buy a piano?”

Fu Ming fell silent.

He stubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray, the ember snuffed out.

Fu Ming?

Shen Zhaowu’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

In her previous life, the year after she was sent to the Zhou family, Fu Ming shot to stardom.

His advertisements dominated every street and alley, luxury endorsements poured in, and the products he represented would sell out within ten minutes of hitting the shelves. His commercial value was staggering.

Perhaps by then he’d long had enough money to buy hundreds of pianos, but he never played again.

After the manager left, the young man’s bangs fell low, black hair shadowing his untamable, handsome features. His expression was uncertain.

Truth be told—

The girl next door was almost too beautiful to look at, and he couldn’t help but glance her way.

Around her, the ordinary lighting in the café seemed to shine a little brighter. Pale skin, delicate nose, red lips, fox-like eyes both clear and charming, her small face could probably fit in his palm.

Fu Ming’s palm itched. He wanted to measure her face with his hands.

His fingers were long, nails clean and smooth. He placed his index fingers together, thumbs crossed, framing her with an imaginary camera.

He leaned in, and unexpectedly met the curve of her smiling black eyes.

For a moment, Fu Ming’s heart skipped a beat.

But she merely looked at him.

It was hard to say if he felt disappointed or something else, but Fu Ming looked away—only to find the girl approaching.

A slender, fair fingertip held out a gold-embossed business card.

On it, only three simple words: Shen Zhaowu.

And an eleven-digit phone number.

“If you ever need a piano,” Shen Zhaowu paused, her smile gentle and calm, “or a practice room, you can contact me anytime.”

The dim light outlined the soft curve of her lips.

Long, dense black hair draped over her shoulders, her skin white and luminous as pearl, her black eyes carrying a faint smile.

The scene was so striking in its beauty that, for years afterward, Fu Ming would always remember that summer, his lost and rebellious nineteenth year, when Shen Zhaowu appeared in his world.

From then on,

He found his purpose.

Fu Ming truly felt alive, his blood pulsing hot in his veins.

Shen Zhaowu had no intention of changing Fu Ming’s path to stardom; she only wanted to give him the chance to choose his dream.

She didn’t linger. Jin Yao’s car was already waiting outside the café.

A luxurious Rolls-Royce.

Jin Yao stepped out in leather shoes; his handsome, sharp face was cold and distant, his bearing exuding innate nobility. He opened the passenger door with gentlemanly grace, escorting his fiancée into the car.

Jin Yao of Haicheng—his world and Fu Ming’s could not be further apart.

Fu Ming lowered his eyes.

The business card between his fingers still held the warmth of the girl’s touch, along with a faint, elusive sweetness.

He thought about throwing it away, crumpling it in his fist.

There was a trash can right at his feet.

Fu Ming hesitated, but in the end, he casually slipped it into his pocket and strode away into the wind.