In the hotel’s piano room, Qiu Qianwei was deeply engrossed in practicing the piano, playing the same piece repeatedly. This was her chosen piece for the upcoming art festival, a performance she had been preparing for at the Global Glory Art Festival for over half a year. The initial version of this piano piece was completed more than six months ago, and she had been refining it ever since. Although the piece was nearly perfect, Qiu Qianwei still felt something was missing.

“Seventh Sister, practicing so hard?” Lin Chen suddenly entered the piano room while Qiu Qianwei was pondering.

“I have no choice but to work hard,” Qiu Qianwei replied with a hint of melancholy.

“Seventh Sister, don’t worry. You’ll definitely win the Supreme Gold Award in the music category at this Global Glory Art Festival!” Lin Chen encouraged her.

“My competitors are musical geniuses from all over the world, definitely on par with me.”

“That’s easy. I have an idea. I’ll make sure those contestants can’t even make it to the festival, and then you’ll win the Supreme Gold Award!” Lin Chen chuckled mischievously.

“Shut up, don’t talk nonsense!” Qiu Qianwei’s usual elegance disappeared as she sternly warned him. Although she wanted to win, she wanted to earn it through her own efforts, not through deceitful means. Lin Chen’s suggestion was a betrayal of art and an insult to both art and herself.

“Seventh Sister, I was just joking,” Lin Chen quickly retracted, fearing her anger.

“Joking is fine, but don’t joke about such things.” Qiu Qianwei’s expression softened slightly.

“Got it, got it,” Lin Chen replied with an awkward smile, continuing, “Seventh Sister, play the piano piece again. Let me listen carefully.”

Blessed with extraordinary talent, his piano skills were actually on par with Wang Haoran’s, both surpassing Qiu Qianwei’s. By listening to her play the piece a few more times, he could likely pinpoint the issue.

Qiu Qianwei was there to practice anyway, so she resumed her practice at Lin Chen’s request.

Meanwhile, Wang Haoran was also listening from a distance.

After Qiu Qianwei played the piece several more times, both Wang Haoran and Lin Chen identified the issue: the piano piece lacked personal emotion; it had no soul. While it might sound abstract, a truly perfect piano performance cannot lack this element.

Qiu Qianwei’s choice of theme for the piano piece was excellent: tragic love. Throughout history, love has been a timeless and immortal theme in cultural creations, with tragedy as a common motif. Many classic works created with elements of love that have stood the test of time are often tragedies. Examples include “Romeo and Juliet” and “The Butterfly Lovers.”

Qiu Qianwei’s choice of “tragic love” as the core theme was correct, and her composition was nearly perfect. However, she overlooked a crucial aspect: musical pieces can yield drastically different effects depending on the performer. Lacking experience in love, no matter how skilled, she couldn’t infuse the necessary emotions of “tragic love” into her performance.

“Seventh Sister, I think what you’re missing is the ability to infuse your emotions into the piece. This is a piano piece about tragic love; you need to incorporate your own feelings,” Lin Chen suggested.

Qiu Qianwei suddenly realized what he meant, but her face quickly fell again.

“I have no experience with love at all, so I don’t really understand it.”

“If you don’t have it, then create it.”

“Create it?”

“Exactly!” Lin Chen proposed seriously. “Seventh Sister, let me be your boyfriend. You try to fall in love with me, and then I’ll break up with you harshly. That way, you’ll be able to experience those emotions.”

“That’s an interesting suggestion,” Qiu Qianwei’s eyes lit up momentarily before she laughed wryly. “But having you as my boyfriend feels too out of place. You’re just an eight-year-old; I can’t immerse myself in the role at all.”

“Besides, knowing it’s just acting, I can’t truly immerse myself and experience a short-lived failed romance. Your method won’t work.”

Lin Chen found her reasoning sound. “Let me think again.”

He scratched his head, trying hard to come up with another idea.

On the other side, Wang Haoran almost applauded Lin Chen’s suggestion. To win Qiu Qianwei’s favor, he was trying hard to help her solve her problem. This slightly absurd suggestion from the young genius directly inspired him. It was important to note that Qiu Qianwei’s current favorability towards him was already at a deep and unwavering level of 70. This seemingly absurd suggestion actually had a high feasibility.

Having a plan, Wang Haoran left the room and went to Cui Xiao’s door, knocking.

“Hey, you’re not dizzy anymore?” Cui Xiao asked in surprise.

“Not dizzy,” Wang Haoran smiled and extended an invitation, “Didn’t you say earlier that you wanted to go out for a walk? Do you still want to go now?”

“Of course!” Cui Xiao agreed immediately. She quickly went back to her room, touched up her makeup, and sprayed some perfume.

“Let’s go!” Cui Xiao excitedly linked arms with Wang Haoran and left the hotel with him.

…

Two hours later, Wang Haoran and Cui Xiao returned with large shopping bags. Actually, Cui Xiao wanted to shop a bit more, but Qiu Qianwei had called several times, saying it was time to eat. Only then did Cui Xiao reluctantly return.

In the hotel restaurant, Qiu Qianwei, Lin Chen, and two female assistants were waiting at a table. The dishes were all served, but no one started eating; they were waiting.

Before long, they saw Wang Haoran and Cui Xiao approaching. Qiu Qianwei glanced over and noticed the two holding hands, appearing quite close. As they got nearer, Cui Xiao, feeling shy, let go of his hand.

“We went shopping just now. Sorry to keep everyone waiting,” Wang Haoran said to the group, not directly addressing Qiu Qianwei. Despite this, as soon as he finished speaking, he received a system notification.

[Ding, the host has made Qiu Qianwei feel jealous, earning 500 villain points!]