The 101st floor, The Peak.
At this moment, the restaurant seemed to be suspended above Manhattan's brilliant river of stars.
Beyond the windows lay a silent, majestic tableau.
Within, there was a dream woven from music.
Under the lights, Tang Song sat slightly turned to one side.
His suit traced crisp, sharp lines around him, his long fingers rising and falling over the black-and-white keys, gliding across them as though caressing a lover's skin.
The mysterious aura bestowed by [Misty Gentleman] was infinitely magnified at this moment, radiating an irresistible charm.
Elegant, affectionate, in control.
Not far away.
Lin Mu Xue gripped her champagne glass tightly as an inexplicable surge of heat flooded through her.
She had to bite her lower lip to restrain the urge to scream.
On the other side, Shen Yuyan held her breath, nearly forgetting how to think. The tremor in her soul burned even hotter than her body's response.
She had completely fallen into that interplay of light and shadow.
Tang Song's fingertips gently held down the final chord.
The music slowly came to an end.
The lingering notes did not come to an abrupt halt.
Instead, they were like a drop of water falling into the boundless night, sending ripple after ripple outward.
Until they dissolved into the air.
Silence.
Absolute silence.
A few seconds later, applause surged up like a tide.
This time, it was no longer the polite clapping of a business occasion, but praise and astonishment that could no longer be suppressed.
The guests present were all truly at the pinnacle of society.
They had heard master soloists at Carnegie Hall and attended the Vienna New Year's Concert.
They knew what they were hearing.
Precisely because they knew, they were so shaken.
Tang Song's performance, whether in the precision of his