Clara stood frozen where she was, her mind completely blank. She had thought that the dilemma she faced was simply whether she was willing to compromise—whether she would go along with the unspoken rules of the finals for the sake of a better ranking.
She had never imagined that even reaching the finals was something her father had already begged for on her behalf. In that instant, her so-called integrity felt laughable. She had been proud of herself for being principled—but the price of that pride had been her father kneeling in places she never saw, sacrificing his dignity behind her back.
In places she didn't know about… how much more had her parents endured for her? How much humiliation had they swallowed in silence? There were no peaceful years. It was just that someone else had been carrying the weight for her. And perhaps, all this time, she had simply been protected too well.
Seeing the expression on Clara's face, Rick hurriedly forced a smile and tried to comfort her. "Clara, don't think too much about it. Socializing like this is normal. It's nothing. If you don't get a good ranking this time, there will be other competitions."
Clara looked at her father's face. He was smiling—trying to appear relaxed, as if tonight were nothing more than an unpleasant dinner. And that was when her tears finally broke free again. They streamed down uncontrollably.
The clearer she saw things, the more ridiculous her past self felt—ignorant, self-righteous, and selfish. Her family background was actually quite similar to Ava's. Both came from middle-class families for whom supporting a music major was a real strain. But their upbringing had been completely different.
Ava's mother often spoke bluntly about sacrifices—about money, effort, pressure—forcing Ava to understand from a young age that the world was harsh and unfair. Ava grew up under constant stress, but she also grew up aware. Clara's parents were the opposite. They almost never talked about hardship. They bore everything silently, shielding her from reality so well that her view of the world remained pure—and naive.
So when the truth finally revealed itself like this, the impact on her soul was devastating.
Just then, a disturbance arose near the entrance. Professor Miller, Professor Jack, and several well-dressed businessmen walked out together. Clara immediately tensed, instinctively pulling her father closer to her side. She didn't know what she should do from here on out. But she knew one thing clearly—at this moment, she would not allow anyone to bully her father again.
Yet Professor Miller and the others merely glanced at them once, without interest, as if they were nothing more than background noise. Instead, they straightened their clothes and lined up near the entrance. Their expressions were tight, their postures stiff. They weren't looking at Clara or Rick. They were waiting. Waiting for someone important to arrive.
Five full minutes later, a black luxury sedan slowly pulled up to the entrance. The driver got out first, walked around, and opened the rear door. A tall, handsome young man stepped out.
The moment Clara saw him, she froze. And what happened next became a scene she would never forget for the rest of her life.
The very people who had just humiliated her father, trampled her beliefs, and made her worldview collapse—those so-called big-shot bosses—all surged forward at once, faces full of eager smiles, their tone instantly transforming into naked flattery.
"Mr. Carter, I've long heard of your reputation. Seeing you today, you truly live up to it—extraordinary presence, like a born leader."
"I've been teaching for decades and have seen countless outstanding young people, but someone as striking as you… honestly, this is the first time in my life."
"Mr. Carter, we invited you earlier, but Secretary Olivia said you were very busy, so we opened the champagne in advance. We hope you don't mind. Everything's ready—drinks, private rooms, even companions. We'll make sure you enjoy yourself tonight."
The obsequiousness was almost nauseating. People who, moments ago, had treated Clara's father like dirt now looked like loyal servants desperate for approval.
In contrast, Jason Carter merely nodded lightly. That was all. He hadn't come here for business. He was simply killing time—and incidentally, letting these people know where they stood.
As the crowd surrounded him and prepared to lead him inside, Jason's gaze suddenly paused. He saw Clara. Her eyes were red, tears still clinging to her lashes. Anyone with eyes could see she'd been wronged. Then he noticed the middle-aged man she was supporting—drunk, exhausted, bearing a faint resemblance to her.
Jason immediately understood the situation. Clara was here for the piano competition. Given her personality, there was no way she'd come to a place like this late at night on her own. It was obvious this had something to do with the judges and sponsors.
Jason didn't ask for details. He simply spoke. "Clara. Want to come sing together?"
That single sentence landed like thunder. Professor Miller, Professor Jack, and the bosses' expressions changed instantly. Their hearts dropped. This girl… is Jason Carter's acquaintance? Cold sweat broke out on their backs. Hadn't their earlier behavior just walked them straight into disaster?
Clara herself was about to refuse. She had no mood to sing—especially not with these people. Rick, however, reacted much faster. As someone who had spent decades navigating society, he instantly realized what this meant. He pulled Clara forward and said hastily, "Thank you for the invitation, Mr. Carter. We'd be honored."
Lily tugged at Clara's sleeve and leaned closer, whispering excitedly, "Clara, he's gotten even more handsome since the last time we met."
Jason smiled faintly and turned toward the entrance. Clara was still conflicted, unwilling to step into the same room as the people who had humiliated her father. She was just about to speak when she noticed something strange.
The once-arrogant professors and bosses did not dare walk ahead of Jason. Instead, they stood aside one by one, forcing polite smiles, bending slightly, and gesturing inward.
"Please, Mr. Carter."
"After you."
"Please go first."
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