Cold sweat slid down her spine into her pants waist. Every time she played a note, she couldn't help but sneak a glance at the shadows backstage, always feeling that someone from the security department would show up at any time and drag her away.
The moment the first note went out of tune, Qin Ying heard her own heartbeat.
The bow slipped on the string, and a needle-like pain came from my wrist.
The sweat on her palms was getting more and more. What worried her was that the audience members who were whispering to each other in the audience looked like spies sent by the Security Department to monitor her.
The broken melody from the strings became her sobs on the verge of collapse, and she was looking forward to the performance ending quickly every second.
When the last note broke over the auditorium, it was like a broken string.
The audience was silent for two seconds before they burst into polite applause.
She lowered her eyes to stare at the fine wood grain of the guitar, and found that beads of blood that had seeped out of her palm at some point were slowly sliding down along the rose carvings. She had used too much force just now and the strings had cut her palm.
As she bowed, she caught a glimpse of the corner of a navy blue robe flashing in the shadows backstage.
My heart suddenly jumped into my throat, and I walked towards the side curtain with unsteady steps, each step feeling like stepping on cotton.
When I returned to the backstage, I saw only the staff hurriedly evacuating, and the originally tense atmosphere suddenly dissipated.
She asked Coach Li in confusion, but he was vague:
"The higher-ups suddenly said the review was cancelled."
Qin Ying clutched the sweaty bow and glanced across the empty corridor. What was going on?
Why not review it?
The incandescent light above her head flickered, making her jump.
Without thinking too much, she quickly packed up the piano case and left. When she opened it, she found a note inside with a pen saying:
"After the performance, please bring the violin here. I'll be waiting for you in the office. Don't ask anyone else to do it for you."
The handwriting is strong and powerful, exactly Wei Zhuolan's handwriting.
Qin Ying's fingers trembled slightly as she crumpled the note into a ball and stuffed it into her pocket.
I have to go to school in the afternoon, so I'll return it to him.
It shouldn't be needed in the future.
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