Zhao Lifei hadn't thought she would find herself at a social gathering so soon. She wasn't prepared to stumble upon so many familiar faces, but equally familiar intentions. When she mentioned a small banquet, Zhao Lifei assumed it would be a handful of people.
The muslin silk curtains, open-garden, and adequate classical music played by a live choir indicated it was hardly a tiny banquet. The people here were meant to socialize and mingle. It was Autumn, but certain species of flowers were splendidly blooming, their petals dangling with gleaming dew.
A large and untouched piano sat upon an empty stage, presumably awaiting the genius who would bless the audience today.
