The reporter impatiently waved, "I have another event to cover."

He finished typing over two hundred words in almost five minutes and showed it to Mrs. Qin.

"This short?" Mrs. Qin felt a bit disheartened about the money she spent.

The envelopes given to the reporters cost several thousand.

Only this few words were published in the newspaper?

The reporter sneered, "You don’t need that many words. The key is your daughter’s beautiful photo."

He threw out a shocking photo of Qin Wenrou playing the piano with her feet.

A close-up shot.

Incredibly clear.

Mrs. Qin didn’t catch the sarcasm in his voice. Seeing the large photo, she couldn’t help but feel a burst of joy: her daughter had finally made a name for herself.

The little bit of worry she had also vanished: This was all for the sake of art, it should be viewed from an artistic perspective.

The news was posted, satisfying Mrs. Qin, and the reporter immediately got up, grabbing his camera and interview bag, and walked out.

"Take care, please write a few more articles for us sometime... oh, why are you in such a hurry? We have a dinner scheduled as a thank you after the event..." Mrs. Qin said softly, trying to keep the reporter a bit longer.

To her surprise, the reporter didn’t even look back, "There’s a big boss performing upstairs, I need to hurry and worship a bit, I’m in a rush."

Mrs. Qin: "..."

Who on earth is performing upstairs that everyone is rushing to see?

She faintly heard people in the audience, whom she paid to attend, discussing:

"Isn’t this Qin Wenrou just playing the piano with her feet? I’ve been listening for a while and there aren’t any variations, damn, I play barefoot at home too, why would I listen to her?"

"Didn’t they introduce her as someone who plays with a lot of power, emotion, and sharpness? They said this style is the only one in the entire empire."

"Oh please, I heard that the pieces from the one upstairs are really impressive."

"How impressive?"

"My friend just went up and said it’s a once-in-a-lifetime experience, they almost cried listening."

"Wow, that impressive? Should we go see too?"

"Yeah, they only gave us a hundred bucks to sit here and watch this lady’s stinking feet, they think we’re fools or something?"

"Let’s go, let’s go!"

The audience finally couldn’t endure Qin Wenrou’s "innovative" style and were eager to go worship the big boss upstairs, so they all stood up and left.

Mrs. Qin couldn’t stop them.

She watched as more than half of the auditorium emptied, continuing to lose audience members at a visible pace.

In the end, only a few rows of relatives were left, awkwardly sitting as they couldn’t bring themselves to leave.

Qin Wenrou finished her first piece.

Finally, she turned towards the audience and bowed in thanks.

But the sparse applause was not what she had anticipated.

What was going on?

When she looked closer, she almost thought she was seeing things: in the vast concert hall, it was nearly empty, with only a few dozen seats in the front row occupied by people whose names she could call out.

Where was the audience?

Where were the people?

Where was the applause?

Where was her moment of glory?!!

Just as she wanted to regroup and start the second piece, even the relatives in the front row couldn’t sit still anymore and bid farewell to Mrs. Qin, "We’ve given enough face by listening to the first piece, goodbye."

Mrs. Qin panicked, "Oh dear, we agreed to listen to the whole thing, there’s a thank-you dinner too..."

Everyone shook their heads:

"No, no, there’s stuff to do at home, we’re heading off first."

"Yes, yes, my son is waiting at home for me to help with his homework, there’s a test at school tomorrow."

"My husband asked me to go home and make soup..."

"I’m sorry, I just remembered there’s work I haven’t finished."

"My boss is calling me back to work overtime!"