Chapter 54

The dazzling lights and shadows of the banquet hall seemed to be focused on him the moment Keigo Atobe stepped back in.

He walked with steady steps, his face showing a newly tempered, sharper and calmer expression than before. He walked through the crowd with a clear goal in mind, looking towards the drink area in the corner.

Yamamoto Misaki looked at him, and a strong sense of jealousy wrapped around her heart like poison ivy, almost tearing apart the elegant mask she had carefully maintained.

She took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing her surging emotions, and put on the impeccable, reserved smile that belonged to the eldest daughter of the Yamamoto family. She adjusted the hem of her skirt, picked up a glass of champagne, and walked gracefully towards the corner.

Obito just left, and now I am alone, like an orchid isolated from the world.

"Ms. Kiriyama." Yamamoto Misaki's voice was still sweet, with just the right social tone. She stopped in front of me, blocking my view of the direction where Atobe Keigo left.

"Here alone, don't you feel a little...out of place?" She tilted her head slightly, her smile bright, but her eyes held a cold, scrutinizing look. "No wonder. After all, the people attending the Atobe family's banquets are all politicians and business celebrities. You'll get used to it."

I looked away and looked at her calmly without saying anything.

The look was so cold and calm that it made Yamamoto Misaki feel like she was punching cotton, and her anger grew even stronger.

"Come to think of it, I'm really envious of Ms. Kiriyama." Yamamoto Misaki took a sip of champagne, her tone filled with a hint of feigned envy. "To be Keigo's female companion tonight, and even to dance the opening dance. This kind of 'luck' is not something everyone can have."

She deliberately emphasized the word "lucky", implying a certain degree of randomness and unsustainability.

"But," she changed the subject, a hint of subtle contempt in her smile, "in situations like this, it's still about being well-matched. A momentary glittering sensation is, after all, a fleeting illusion, and shouldn't be taken seriously."

"For someone like Jingwu, the ultimate choice must be someone who can truly stand shoulder to shoulder with the Atobe family and bring great support. Marriage, then."

She raised her chin slightly, with a sense of self-righteous superiority. "It's a long-determined matter, set in stone. If you can't see your place and try to squeeze in, you'll just end up adding to the jokes and becoming a clown in the eyes of others."

Yuushi Oshitari was talking to someone a few steps away. Hearing Yamamoto Misaki's increasingly blatant sarcasm, he frowned slightly and walked over with a glass of wine.

His voice was smooth with the unique Kansai accent, trying to ease the atmosphere: "Mr. Yamamoto, the champagne tonight tastes good, how about..."

"Oshitari-kun," Yamamoto Misaki interrupted him rudely, her smile still sweet, but her tone was filled with obvious impatience and condescension, "I'm chatting with Ms. Kiriyama."

"It seems the Oshitari family's recent project in Kobe has run into some trouble, right? They'd better focus more on their own business."

With just one sentence, she accurately pointed out that the Oshitari family was not a top-tier financial group, and implied that he was "not qualified" to intervene in the "conversation" of Miss Yamamoto.

Oshitari's eyes darkened behind his glasses, and he said nothing more. He had long seen Yamamoto Misaki's harshness and bullying.

Having successfully choked Oshitari, Yamamoto Misaki's vanity was greatly satisfied.

She glanced around at the eyes gradually drawn to her by the commotion, a calculating smile playing on her lips. She set down her wine glass and walked gracefully towards the ornate white grand piano in the center of the banquet hall.

"To celebrate Jingwu's birthday," her voice, clearly carried throughout the banquet hall through the microphone, carried the reservedness and confidence unique to a young lady, "I will play a song for everyone."

She sat upright on the piano stool, her back straight and her posture perfect.

As his fingertips fell, a string of smooth and skillful notes poured out - it was Liszt's "The Bells".

The melody was gorgeous and complex, requiring extremely high technical skills. She had clearly put in a lot of effort, playing it smoothly and with a sense of virtuosic splendor. The leaping notes, like crystal droplets, had a metallic, chilling quality that instantly caught everyone's attention.

At the end of the song, there was thunderous applause, mixed with praises such as "Ms. Yamamoto is truly talented and beautiful" and "She is worthy of being the heir carefully cultivated by the Yamamoto family."

Yamamoto Misaki stood up amid the applause, curtsying slightly, her face flushed with a proper blush and undisguised pride. Her gaze, like a spotlight, once again landed squarely on me in the corner.

"Ms. Kiriyama," her voice came through the microphone, a hint of studied, innocent curiosity, "everyone is having a great time tonight. As Keigo's special companion, I'm sure Ms. Kiriyama must have some special skills, right?"

She smiled, but a malicious glint flickered in her eyes. "I wonder if Miss Kiriyama would be so kind as to show us your talents? After all, those who can attend such an occasion are..."

She paused deliberately, her eyes sweeping over the well-dressed, wealthy and noble guests around her, and said in a clear voice, "There are some prominent figures with their own strengths."

She tilted her head slightly, her smile as sweet as poisoned nectar. "Miss Kiriyama, could it be that... you don't know anything? That would be... such a pity."

The last few words were drawn out, full of undisguised ridicule and provocation.

"Yeah, Miss Kiriyama, have one too!"

"Being invited by Master Atobe must be something special!"

"Let us also open our eyes..."

There was an immediate burst of booing and echoing voices all around, most of whom were there to watch the fun, or were led by Yamamoto Misaki's words to see this mysterious girl make a fool of herself.

Whispers also buzzed in the air, and all kinds of inquisitive, curious, and even gloating looks pierced me like needles.

I stood there, still with no expression on my face, but the string called "calmness" in my heart was completely provoked by Yamamoto Misaki's continuous and step-by-step maliciousness.

I don't care about what these people think, but today, I am the female partner that Keigo Atobe personally invited to dance the first dance with.

If I were to cower in fear here, if I were to be publicly humiliated by Yamamoto Misaki and be unable to fight back, then I would not only be losing face, but also that of Keigo Atobe!

Oshitari took another step forward and said quickly in a low voice, "Kirishama..."

"Okay." My voice was very soft, but it interrupted him very clearly.

He raised his head, his cold gaze piercing through the crowd, meeting Yamamoto Misaki's eyes, which were filled with provocation and malice. The calmness in those eyes was gone, replaced by a completely aroused fighting spirit.

Oshitari was slightly startled by this familiar light, as if it was lit in a martial arts arena.

Under everyone's gaze, and with Yamamoto Misaki's smug smile on her face, I took my first step.

Without looking at anyone, she walked straight to the center of the banquet hall, towards the white grand piano that Yamamoto Misaki had just played. Her steps were neither hurried nor slow, her skirt scraping slightly across the polished floor as she moved, her back straight as if she were a general about to embark on a battlefield.

Ignoring Yamamoto Misaki's expression that instantly became stiff and ugly, and ignoring the surprised, curious, and even ridiculous looks around me, I calmly sat down on the piano stool.

The whole audience was silent.

The cold ivory keys pressed against my fingertips, and the piercing gazes in the banquet hall pierced my back like needles. Yamamoto Misaki's smug expression, waiting to see me embarrass myself, was piercingly clear in my peripheral vision.

Okay, if you want to compare, then let’s do it.

As the fingertips fell, the melody of the third piece of Liszt's "Dream of Love" flowed out like a stream under the moonlight.

The anger in my heart turned into an icy calm the moment it touched the piano keys.

With my skirt hanging down, I was probably like the laurel tree in Greek mythology that was so tired of being chased that it turned into a tree. I just wanted some peace and quiet.

Unfortunately, someone insisted on cutting down the tree.

At a certain turning point in the piece, I raised my chin. My gaze still fixed on the keys, the anger fueled by Yamamoto's harsh words lashed out clearly, word by word:

"Madam, thouest with jewels on thy throat and pride in thy voice, as though the world were thine tomand."

("Madam, you wear jewels and speak with such pride that it seems as if the world obeys your commands.")

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Yamamoto Misaki, and the fake smile on her face froze. The buzz of discussion around him died down.

The piano music did not stop, and a sharp edge began to appear beneath the gentleness.

"But know this - 'All that glisters is not gold, and oft the crown is worn by those who know not how to rule.'"

(“But remember – ‘all that glitters is not gold’, and the crown often falls to those who do not know how to rule the world.” – The Merchant of Venice)

As I uttered this, I heard a quiet gasp next to me, and someone whispered a translation to their companion: "...all that glitters is not necessarily gold...those who wear a crown do not necessarily know how to rule..."

Yamamoto Misaki's face paled. I added a little more pressure to my fingertips, and the notes gained weight.

"You wield your lineage like a sword, yet et: 'It is excellent to have a giant's strength; but tyrannous to use it like a giant.'"

("You use your family background as a weapon, but you forget: 'It is good to have the power of a giant, but if you abuse it like a giant, you are a tyrant.'" - "Tit for Tat")

As soon as the word "tyrant" came out, Yamamoto Misaki's fingers, which were holding the champagne glass, turned white.

I didn't know when Ozuki Yuushi slipped up to a spot behind me. I heard the sound of him adjusting his glasses and a low, Kansai-style quip, accompanied by undisguised amazement: "Wow... Kiriyama, your cursing skills... are good enough for a haiku contest."

"And while you speak of power, I play of truth - for music, unlike wealth, needs no inheritance to be felt."

(“You talk about power, I play truth—music needs no inheritance to move people.”)

After he said this, the surroundings became so quiet that he could only hear the subtle hum of the crystal chandelier.

Yamamoto family? Power?

Oh.

"So let the notes judge us, not the names. For in the end, 'vanity and pride are different things,' though you wear both like perfume."

("Let the sound of the harp be the judge, not the name. After all, 'Vanity and pride are not the same,' though you wear both like perfume.")

As the last word fell, the aftertaste of "Dream of Love" faded away.

My fingers lightly turned on the keys without any pause, and the low hum of Chopin's "Nocturne" in C-sharp minor, as deep as the night and as sharp as the cold stars, instantly filled the entire space.

"The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool."

(A fool thinks he is wise, but a wise man knows he is foolish.) - Shakespeare, As You Like It

This melody is my answer, more powerful than any words.

The last note faded away with an aftershock.

Dead silence.

I slowly raised my hand, turned my head, and looked at Yamamoto Misaki.

She stood there, her face as pale as paper, her carefully applied eye makeup unable to conceal the humiliation and embarrassment, her body trembling slightly. I looked at her, a cold smile curling the corners of my mouth as I spoke in a clear, calm voice:

"Ms. Yamamoto, do you understand?"

This sentence was like the last straw. Her lips trembled, her eyes fixed on me, and she couldn't utter a single word.

The expressions of the guests around who understood English had already changed, from watching the spectacle to shock and awe. Those who didn't understand were anxiously whispering, "What did she just say? What did she mean by 'All that glitters is not gold'?"

"... seems to be saying that Miss Yamamoto flaunts her family background like she's wearing perfume randomly, mistaking vanity for pride..."

"Bravo!"

Atobe Keigo's voice pierced the silence with undisguised admiration.

He strode over with a bright smile on his face and his eyes filled with astonishing brilliance, as if the "war of words" just now, where every word was bloody, was a good show performed specially for him.

He stopped in front of me, leaned in close, his warm breath brushed against my ear, and a whisper with a smile entered my ear:

"What a murderer..." The intimacy and indulgence in his tone were so thick that they couldn't be dissolved. "You won't suffer any loss at all, huh?"

I stood up, my skirt cascading down like water. Ignoring the slight itch his close presence brought, I turned my gaze once again to Yamamoto Misaki, my voice still cold and clear:

"Ms. Yamamoto, do you have any other talents you'd like to teach me?"

"You...!" She pointed at me, her fingers shaking like leaves in the wind, and her temples throbbing beside her carefully styled hair. In the end, she could only squeeze out a broken breath from between her teeth. Under the gazes of countless people, the pride she had forced herself to hold on to was completely shattered into pieces.

I turned around and walked back to the corner, leaving behind Yamamoto Misaki's embarrassed look, who looked like she wanted to disappear from the spot.

Oshitari followed, his eyes gleaming behind his glasses, his Kansai accent brimming with admiration. "Kiriyama-san, I take it back. With your caliber, the Haiku Contest is unfair to you. You should just publish a book. 'Shakespeare Teaches You Elegant Curse' is a surefire bestseller."

Atobe's parents stood at the back of the crowd. Mrs. Atobe Eiko had a gentle and profound smile on her lips, and Mr. Atobe Tatsumi nodded slightly. The certainty in his eyes was deeper than any applause.

Oh.

I sneered silently in my heart.

Do you really think I'm dumb? Chinese people love education the most. My uncle has never relaxed his training in me. Piano and literature are just the basics.

Normally I'm too lazy to play these tricks with you guys, but you have to come and cause trouble...

Let me open your eyes and show you what a true dimensionality reduction attack is.

The silent smoke of the Tomobe family's birthday party gradually settled with the passage of time.

He eventually told me about the Yamamoto family's shady methods of secretly filming. Atobe Keigo's pride wouldn't tolerate such shady schemes; the anger and worry in his eyes practically burned.

I patted his arm and said with a smile, "Don't worry, it's okay." My voice was very soft, but it carried an unquestionable certainty.

I have never been a prey that sits and waits to be killed.

Coming to Japan to expand business was part of the plan. I'd wait and see what would happen. Now that the Yamamoto family has extended their reach where they shouldn't, don't blame me for being rude.

On the surface, Aunt Yuko now has two seemingly ordinary "gardeners" around her, and the security system of her home yard has been quietly upgraded to the top level.

In secret, several instructions were quietly transmitted back across the ocean via encrypted lines. The family's vast and secretive business tentacles began to slowly mobilize, like a deep-sea behemoth silently turning over.

The target is clear: the Yamamoto family.

Unlike Keigo Atobe's aggressive, head-on crushing tactics, my approach is more like a vine—quietly, slowly, and imperceptibly entwining and infiltrating. Starting with some obscure, marginal businesses, I create minor trouble, disrupt a few key supply chains, and sow subtle, unfavorable rumors in the financial markets about Yamamoto...

Each strike was precise and tiny, like the gentle spring rain that moistens everything silently, but it was enough to make Yamamoto Kenichiro anxious one night as he looked at the declining financial report, unable to find a clear enemy.

This is just the beginning. We need to wait patiently for the right time to close the net.