Old Mrs. Shi stared incredulously at the liquid filling her hands, dazed for a long time.
Looking up again, she suddenly realized that there were quite a few people around her with the same reaction.
This was a song written by a child for their parents.
It wasn’t as sensational as "Crown" just moments ago, yet as the prelude to "Child" began, it seemed to take control of the mood inside the venue.
The surroundings became quiet and earnest.
This was the influence of the person onstage.
Indeed, it was the Senior Sister.
Old Mrs. Shi looked at the woman on the stage, unable to help herself from clapping her hands together.
In an instant, the venue erupted with thunderous applause.
Granny Tang watched the woman onstage, clutching Tang Jingming’s hand, and said, "Go, get me a microphone."
Tang Jingming was startled, "What are you going to do?"
Tang Jingming immediately nodded and turned to leave.
The sorrowful and deep harmonica gradually ceased, but Shi Mei’s hands were still dancing on the keys, speaking in a softened voice:
"A poem that shocks the world reflects the household, and the tradition of the outsider’s attire.
Thank you for the warmth, a promise of home together, this gratitude is hard to speak.
Today before the birthday feast, all bow in dance, grandchildren lined up below.
May each year from now be stronger than the last, the seasons more abundant."
Old Mrs. Shi felt somewhat proud; hearing this poem made her think that the Senior Sister was just to her liking.
Even sycophancy was done differently than by others.
That’s more like it; the people she liked were meant to stand out from the vulgar tramps outside!
Tang Jingming was quick to find a microphone, handing it over to Granny Tang.
Granny Tang looked somewhat excited, shouting, "Young lady!"
Shi Mei, hearing this voice, tensed up.
Her hands paused, the piano notes momentarily stilled.
Shi Mei’s throat, struggling to keep down her choking sobs, swelled again in that moment.
But soon after, she pursed her lips and while continuing to play, turned her face to look in the direction of the voice.
Three years had passed, yet Granny Tang seemed to have aged a great deal.
She wore an exquisite and beautiful cheongsam that outlined her already tall and erect stature, and a scarf full of charm draped over her shoulders, making her look elegant and noble.
Granny Tang was an artist, and naturally, her demeanor was extraordinary.
At that moment, holding the microphone, her eyes slightly red, she was visibly moved.
She looked at the Senior Sister playing the piano onstage, her voice aged yet hesitant, but still she could not help asking, "Young lady, what is your name?"
Shi Mei almost burst into tears, slightly turning her head away, struggling to suppress the urge to cry, before forcibly calming down and swallowing her sobs to reply softly, "You can call me... Senior Sister."
"Senior Sister, huh?" Granny Tang’s voice carried a sense of disappointment before she smiled politely and elegantly, "Don’t mind me, it’s just that you look a bit like my granddaughter, and you are wearing a mask, so I wanted to ask."
Shi Mei’s tears instantly fell, and her hands trembled as they played the piano.
She wanted to respond to the elderly lady, but she dared not.
She feared that once she opened her mouth, she would lose her composure.
Below the stage, Shi Lingyan, who watched her from afar, clenched the paper in her hand even tighter.
She looked to be in so much distress.
Granny Tang, seeing her not speaking, asked again, "Senior Sister, can you play the lute?"
Shi Mei bit her lip, nodding heavily.
Granny Tang gripped the microphone tighter, "What pieces can you play?"
"I..." her voice was very low, barely audible, "all of them."
As those words fell, the whole audience burst into discussion.
How could that be possible?
Yet Granny Tang couldn’t help her choking up, "Then, could you play one for Granny?"