The voice carried a dark chuckle, laced with an enticing tone: "Young lady, do you really want to join an orchestra? My Black Eagle Band needs a pianist, will you come?"
Qin Wenrou turned around and saw a skinny old man, seemingly appearing backstage out of nowhere, smiling at her.
She instinctively shuddered.
Perhaps it was the indescribable sinister aura of the old man, as if it could entice one's very bones.
It made her fearful, yet a bit curious.
Mrs. Qin held Qin Wenrou tightly, warily asking, "Who are you?"
The skinny old man handed over a gold-embossed business card: "You can ask around, Black Eagle Band, once the top seat of the Imperial Orchestra. When I was making waves in the music circle, little kids like Lark didn't even know where they were wearing crotchless pants."
Mrs. Qin was skeptical.
But seeing the large, exquisite "Duanmu Heiying" name printed on the card, she couldn't help but ask, "Then why haven't I seen you at the New Year concert?"
