Chapter Twenty-Seven: Cinderella and Her Wishing Tree

As they left the mall, Cheng Xiaoyu casually bought a long down coat and draped it over Xia Shamo's shoulders. Hailing a cab at the entrance, they rushed toward the grand auditorium at Fudan.

On the way, Cheng Xiaoyu answered countless calls and replied to innumerable messages. Still, his heart remained fairly steady—after all, their performance was scheduled much later—though he knew full well that their behavior was a serious violation of discipline and organization.

By the time Cheng Xiaoyu and Xia Shamo reached the backstage corridor, the performance was already halfway through. The next act would be Su Yuxi's piano solo, "La Campanella."

They were lucky not to be torn to shreds by their homeroom teacher, Wang Wei, who seemed ready to make an example of them. Thankfully, Teacher Ji Xin was seated on the stage, sparing Cheng Xiaoyu another headache. He texted Teacher Ji to say they had arrived, then led Xia Shamo further backstage.

Backstage was chaos: some were still fixing their makeup, others stood in corners memorizing lines, and some quietly warmed up their voices. Two blond foreigners in European aristocratic costumes stood off to one side—the performers from Gezhi Academy, set to sing "Romeo and Juliet." Another student, dressed in a Peking Opera costume as Zhao Yun, was Sun Zihao from their own school, about to sing "The Battle of Changban Slope." People of all sorts darted about backstage in disorder, a stark contrast to the calm onstage.

Suddenly, as the emcee, Chen Jiajun, loudly announced, "Next, let's welcome Su Yuxi from Fudan Affiliated High School, Class 2 (3), to perform the piano solo 'La Campanella,'" the entire backstage fell silent. Many performers squeezed over to the edge of the curtains—the only place backstage where one could glimpse the show.

Seizing the chance, Cheng Xiaoyu grabbed two stools and found a makeup table, asking Xia Shamo to sit. He pulled out the cosmetics he'd bought and piled them on the little table. Just then, thunderous applause erupted from the audience.

Cheng Xiaoyu could picture Su Yuxi bowing gracefully beside the piano, then sitting down, her long, marble-white fingers flying across the black and white keys.

He knew this piece well himself; he had once practiced it. When Liszt adapted Paganini's dazzling "Violin Concerto No. 2 in B minor" into "La Campanella," he made it clear: "Only a rare few possess the ability to perform such an étude..." Thus, "La Campanella" is perhaps one of the most challenging piano works, demanding the highest level of virtuosity.

Cheng Xiaoyu pricked up his ears and closed his eyes, listening intently to Su Yuxi's performance. The piece began with a concise prelude, and soon the "theme of the bells" appeared in the treble register—the piano's crystalline high notes and overtone techniques producing a series of vivid, lifelike bell chimes. The piano's timbre, even more so than the violin's, mimicked the sound of bells, making the effect all the more striking. The subsequent theme, too, utilized the upper register's distinctive timbre to create bells in various rhythms. These two themes alternated and varied, forming a series of dazzling, technically demanding passages.

"La Campanella" is constructed on variations, with two themes alternating in a display of virtuosity: single-hand wide leaps, rapid jumps across distant intervals, repeated octaves at speed, single-hand melodies coupled with tremolos, and swift runs. Su Yuxi executed all these formidable techniques without a single flaw. Take, for instance, the enormous single-hand leaps in the upper register—any error would be glaringly obvious, like a bell suddenly gone awry, and the leaps themselves demanded a reach beyond ordinary human capability. Without exhaustive practice, it would be impossible to achieve such precision. Moreover, Liszt insisted the melody must always sing out, so even the smallest deviation was unacceptable, and the main theme had to remain prominent. In places, she even managed leaps with ornamented grace notes—an almost insurmountable challenge. Cheng Xiaoyu himself could not yet perform them perfectly.

But Su Yuxi's brilliance lay not just in technical mastery; she infused her performance with vivid imagery. From the ethereal opening octaves, Cheng Xiaoyu seemed to hear the distant chime of bells on the wind—a tantalizing prelude to a magnificent feast. The beautiful melody, introduced gently with broken octaves in the bass, was accompanied by sparkling overtones that conjured a vivid tapestry of bells colliding and chiming, while the left hand's trills called out tenderly. Through her meticulous touch, Cheng Xiaoyu felt transported into a fleeting, magical vision, like the murmuring of brooks. The swaying rhythms, shifting textures, and peerless virtuosity filled the music with iridescent bubbles, a kaleidoscope of colors and dazzling headpieces. The interplay of crystalline ornamentations and nimble passages, combined with the contrasting harmonic hues, merged into a whirling festival of jubilant energy. Her refined technique, poetic precision, and striking dance-like quality elevated Cheng Xiaoyu's imagination to the heights of a storm's wild fury.

In just over four minutes, his entire impression of the piece had changed. He had once believed Liszt had arranged this piece as nothing but a show of bravado, so daunting were its technical demands. But after hearing Su Yuxi's performance, he discovered an exquisite beauty within it—one only a rare few could reveal.

The piano fell silent, and another storm of applause broke out beyond the curtain. In this era, far more people understood and appreciated classical music than in his previous life, and the audience could certainly judge for themselves the quality of a performance. Female pianists were few and far between due to natural limitations, and someone like Su Yuxi was truly a rarity. Her rendition of "La Campanella" bordered on the level of a master, and, coupled with her extraordinary beauty, it was no wonder she captivated and enchanted so many. Even the magazine "The Artist" had invited her for an exclusive interview, which she had politely declined, feeling her skills did not yet warrant such a prestigious feature, never realizing her worth extended far beyond her piano playing.

Cheng Xiaoyu sighed inwardly, finally understanding why so many people had urged him not to attempt a piano solo.

Xia Shamo noticed his discouraged expression and asked, "What's wrong?"

Cheng Xiaoyu gave a bitter smile. "I used to think the gap between her and me wasn't very wide, but now I see I underestimated her and overestimated myself. I'm starting to wonder if I'm really meant to play the piano."

Xia Shamo smiled gently. "You're wrong to think that. Everyone's talents lie in different directions. I’m sure Su Yuxi doesn’t have your abilities. That's why she can only play other people's music here. But we're different—because of you, we can attempt something unprecedented. I can even imagine you using your music to usher in a new era."

Looking into Xia Shamo's sparkling eyes, Cheng Xiaoyu said, "Thank you for your encouragement. I feel much better. Later, let's show them there are even more dazzling notes in this world."

Xia Shamo nodded slightly.

At that moment, a round of applause broke out among the backstage performers—Su Yuxi had returned. Cheng Xiaoyu glanced back and saw her with her hair in a single ponytail, dressed in a pristine white knee-length tulle dress and shimmering silver heels, bowing in thanks to the applauding actors. She wore no makeup at all; for her, this was just another ordinary performance.

Su Yuxi caught sight of Cheng Xiaoyu, hesitated, then walked over. Her voice, cool and light as falling snow, drifted over: "How's your preparation going?"

Cheng Xiaoyu was taken aback—he hadn't expected his normally aloof "little sister" to speak to him. After a moment, he countered, "Are you talking to me?"

Su Yuxi nodded, and the boys around them all held their breath in disbelief—Su Yuxi was actually speaking to a chubby guy! The scene was too beautiful for them to bear.

Cheng Xiaoyu smiled. "Not bad. I don’t think I’ll embarrass myself."

Su Yuxi didn’t offer any encouraging smile, just remarked blandly, "Good luck, then," her tone the epitome of polite indifference. She then walked toward the backstage exit.

She paused before leaving, quietly adding to Cheng Xiaoyu, "Oh, and try not to provoke Xu Qinning anymore. If she gives you trouble, just let her have her way—she won't really do anything to you."

Cheng Xiaoyu felt that this was the crux of their entire exchange—a faint warning that boded ill for him. Cold sweat broke out on his forehead, but he nodded.

Then he thought to himself, What am I, a grown man, afraid of? What could a little girl possibly do to me? His nerves steadied, and he beckoned Xia Shamo closer to help her with her makeup.

For once, Xia Shamo couldn't resist a bit of gossip. "You two know each other?"

Cheng Xiaoyu answered nonchalantly, "Yeah. Her father and my mother know each other, so we know each other."

Xia Shamo asked no more, as Cheng Xiaoyu needed her to close her eyes for her makeup.

In this era, makeup trends still favored heavy, garish looks, and stage makeup was even more so—many actresses caked on thick powder, heavy eye makeup, and bright blush, which to Cheng Xiaoyu looked unbearably tacky.

Back when he performed with his band, Cheng Xiaoyu always did their makeup. People called him "alternative," and in truth, he had dabbled in visual kei for a time. Visual kei, rooted in glam rock, was often confused with heavy metal or punk, but their styles only overlapped visually—musically, visual kei was all-encompassing, while punk was essentially noise. In fact, visual kei was closer to gothic in styling. One should never confuse it with the garish, rural "washed and blown" look—it was as different as night and day, as different as a goddess and a toad. Besides, playing visual kei required both money and advanced makeup skills.

Now, Cheng Xiaoyu had no intention of giving Xia Shamo an exaggerated look. Instead, he chose a 'teardrop' style—since Xia Shamo's features were already exquisite, heavy makeup would only obscure her beauty. A touch of foundation to enhance her skin's radiance, pearlescent eyeshadow applied across the lids for a watery shine, a hint of natural brown shadow at the center to add depth. Dividing the eyelid in thirds, he subtly accentuated the inner corner for that teary-eyed effect. Once the eye makeup—by far the most important part—was finished, he applied false lashes and a soft eyeliner to deepen the eyes, added a touch of blush, and finally shaped her eyebrows with a clip, completing her look.

When he turned to look for a comb, a small group of girls had already gathered behind them. Someone even asked Xia Shamo if she had hired a professional makeup artist, and several looked ready to pay Cheng Xiaoyu on the spot to redo their own makeup. He let out a silent groan.

Borrowing a comb and hairdryer, he styled Xia Shamo's bangs into soft waves, set them with spray, then tied her hair into twin ponytails with a scarlet ribbon—a purely selfish indulgence of his own little fantasy. Fortunately, Xia Shamo, with her peerless beauty, could effortlessly pull off a look that would be overwhelming for ordinary girls.

Cheng Xiaoyu asked her to remove her coat and stand. With her tall, slender figure, Xia Shamo in her pearl-white silk cheongsam shimmered like flowing light, drawing gasps of amazement from those around them. She quickly put her coat back on, afraid of attracting even more attention.

Cheng Xiaoyu stroked his chin, thinking that Xia Shamo in this moment might even threaten Su Yuxi’s place as the school goddess of Fudan. He smiled, filled with the unique satisfaction of having created a flawless work of art with his own hands.

When the crowd finally dispersed, Cheng Xiaoyu finished the last touch: affixing teardrop-shaped crystal stickers beneath Xia Shamo’s eyes. After a careful inspection, he deemed her perfect. He then produced a pair of OO crystal slippers and said, “Put these on, Cinderella. The ball is about to begin—you’ll be the most dazzling star tonight.”

Xia Shamo took the shoes, the dazzling crystals catching her eye. Squinting against the rainbow sparks, she declared, “I’m not the prince’s Cinderella. I’m SR, Xia Shamo.”

Cheng Xiaoyu beamed at her. “An everlasting summer, then?”

But Xia Shamo, busy putting on her shoes, didn’t hear his soft murmur.

At last, Cinderella donned her crystal slippers, and the ball was about to begin.