Chapter 82 The Unfinished Song

Eliza asked, “Mr. Tyson, can I ask why you chose me?”

“Because… you’re clean. And smart.”

With that, Tyson left the conference room.

Julio motioned for Eliza to stand.

+8 bPear /b

Once they were in the car, Eliza learned that Hayes Corp was hosting an important banquet that eveningb, /bwith a very high–profile guest expected to attend.

They hadn’t been able to find a suitable pianist. Most female pianists were elegant and refined, but after attending too many such events, they became tainted by the world of fame and fortune, losing the soul that once connected them to the piano.

A pianist who yed only for money could never produce a pure sound. And without purity, no piece could move someone of that guest’s stature.

That was why someone like Eliza–a high school student–was perfect.

Eliza didn’t quite understand Tyson’s thinking.

Who said that a pianist who made money through music couldn’t y purely?

That kind of notion was nothing more than society’s romanticized delusion about artists.

Still, this worked in her favor.

At least it gave her a chance to stand out.

About half an hourter, Eliza finally got out of the car with Julio.

They had arrived at avish hotel.

Eliza suddenly asked, “What’s the rtionship between Mr. Tyson and Nn?”

“Uncle and nephew.”

That answer made everything clear.

Uncle and nephew….

No wonder–Tyson did look a lot like Nn.

“This way, Ms. Rivers.”

Julio led Eliza into the banquet hall

At the center stood a white piano

Eliza’s eyes darkened.

For a banquet of this scale, anything ced at the very center was always the focal point.

13:55 Sun, b6 /bJu

Chapter 82 The Unfinished Song

The piano…

Could this banquet be centered around a musical coboration?

“Ms. Rivers, what kind of pieces can you y?”

“I-”

+ Pearls

Before Eliza could finish, Julio interrupted her. “Actually, it doesn’t matter what you can yb, /bbas /blong as you can read sheet music.”

He led her over to the piano.

There was already a pieceid out on the stand.

It was unusually long–this piece would take around forty minutes to y.

“Ms. Rivers, if you can y iCrimson /iiRhapsody/ii, /ithen this one will be no problem at all.”

Julio continued, “You have just fifteen minutes to prepare. The banquet starts then, and you’ll begin ying.”

Eliza looked down at the score. It wasn’t particrly difficult. Compared to Crimson Rhapsody, itcked technical challenges. The melody was mournful and bleak, filled with loneliness.

But it felt endless, as if it had no conclusion.

Much of it was repeated.

“This sheet… it doesn’t have an ending?b” /b

“No. It’s iplete.”

Tyson walked over from the corner.

Eliza fell silent.

An unfinished piece?

She asked, “Who’sing?”

Julio frowned beside her. “Ms. Rivers, that’s not your concern.”

“It’s Mr. Cassius. A renowned phnthropist,” Tyson said coolly. “If you can win his favor, your future will be smooth sailing. Just sit here and y quietly.”

Eliza thought back to her past life. Naomi must’ve yed this same pic

But an unfinishedposition… biWhy /i/biwould /iia /iiphnthropist /iibe /iso idrawn /iito /iiit/ii? /i

iCould /iiying /iiit /iireally /iichange /iisomeone’s /iilife/i?

Fifteen minutes passed.

Eliza sat poised at the piano as the banquet guests began entering the hall.

ist as Tyson instructed.

13:55 Sun, 6 JUI

Chapter 82 The Unfinished Song

As they stepped inside, they were greeted by a haunting piano melody,

One by one, the guests paused in their tracks.

+8 Peads

From the corner of her eye, Eliza caught sight of some of the most influential people in the industry–faces that had appeared on television, in financial reports, or even alongside the president.

These were all names thatmanded weight and power.

Eliza had always known the Hayes family was formidable, but she hadn’t realized just how grand Tyson’swork was.

To win the favor of one phnthropist, he had gathered iso /imany giants.

Soon, Eliza saw them all raising sses with a man in his sixties.

He wore a white suit. His beard had turned white, his face etched with unhidden wrinkles.

It was clear that he must have been a striking figure in his youth.

Eliza felt like she’d seen him before.

Then it came to her–she had read about this man in a newspaper in her past life.

The renowned phnthropist had passed away at seventy, donating all his wealth to charity. He had been celebrated worldwide.

At that time, she had just started learning piano, and nearly every musician and industry professional had benefited from the man’s generosity. Her teacher had often mentioned him in ss.

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