In the predawn hours, the fluctuating light of the room flickered as lingering piano melodies filled the air.
The sound of the piano was like a moving love song, brimming with tender, loving devotion that made one unconsciously want to indulge in it.
When Musheng opened the door, he saw Mu Lianmiao settled in a desolate corner of the living room, her slender fingers rhythmically dancing on the piano keys, weaving touching notes. Outside the window, the cityscape's magnificent night view was breathtaking, with dazzling lights that seemed like the most beautiful colors in the world, and Mu Lianmiao was the most brilliant person within it.
Dressed in a black silk shirt, she stood barefoot on the velvet carpet, her profile's curvature so exquisitely fairy tale-like it felt surreal.
Musheng seldom enjoyed such a scene; Mu Lianmiao's piano skills were also very high. She seemed like a perfect, unreal person, as if there was nothing in the world she couldn't do.
