The Waste at the Engagement Cancellation Banquet

When Lin Shen opened his eyes, he was standing in a noisy scene.

Crystal chandeliers. Red wine. Perfume. And a table full of faces that smiled but not sincerely.

In his mind, two memories exploded — one was his own, twenty-six years old, a struggling musician who had just finished an unheard demo late at night and was hit by a truck running a red light while riding an electric scooter home; the other was from the original owner of this body.

Same name, also called Lin Shen.

A parallel world of Huaxia. The abandoned son of the Lin family. Tonight was his engagement cancellation banquet.

"Lin Shen."

A cold female voice. Lin Shen looked up. Across from him stood a woman in a champagne-colored dress. Her features were delicate, but her eyes looked at him like he was defective merchandise.

Su Wanqing. His fiancée.

"I think it's better to make things clear today," Su Wanqing raised her wine glass, her voice not loud but quieting the entire table. "You and I are done."

Someone in the private room snickered.

"Miss Su has finally come to her senses." A slick-haired man swirled his glass. "This young master of the Lin family has neither talent nor money — tsk, someone kicked out of the family, how can he even talk about money?"

"I heard he can't even write a song, but still dreams of music every day."

"Dreaming is better than being a waste; at least in dreams, you can be glamorous."

Laughter.

Three minutes earlier, the original owner would have flushed, stammered, and been driven out with sarcasm. In fact, the original owner's memory went blank here in humiliation — that was exactly how he was driven out, and then he jumped into a river.

But now, standing here was Lin Shen.

The Lin Shen who carried in his mind an entire world's worth of Chinese music, poetry, and literature spanning decades.

He looked down at the glass in his hand, then at the smug face before him, and suddenly smiled.

"Su Wanqing," he said, his voice calm. "We can call off the engagement. But you just said I can't even write a song?"

Su Wanqing frowned. "What are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying," Lin Shen gently set down the glass, "breaking up should have a sense of ceremony. Let me give you a song, as a farewell."

The whole table was stunned for a moment, then laughed even louder.

"Oh, the waste is going to compose on the spot?"

"Young Master Lin, don't force it. It's embarrassing."

In the corner was a piano for guests' entertainment, gleaming black, almost untouched. Lin Shen walked over and lifted the lid.

The laughter hadn't stopped.

He sat down, his fingers landing on the keys.

When the first note rang out, the air in the room seemed to pause.

It was a melody no one in this world had ever heard. Clean, restrained, carrying an indescribable determination to move forward. Lin Shen closed his eyes. The song from his original world was clear in his mind — he was just transferring it here.

Then he began to sing.

"...I once crossed mountains and seas, also passed through crowds of people..."

The laughter stopped.

The slick-haired man's hand froze mid-air holding the glass. The sneer on Su Wanqing's face gradually faded, her eyes slowly widening.

"...Everything I once possessed vanished like smoke in an instant..."

The room was so quiet that every vibration of the piano could be heard. Someone instinctively held their breath. Someone else gently set down their glass. No one dared to make a sound.

This melody, these lyrics, this way of crushing disappointment and resentment and swallowing them down — they had never, ever heard a song like this.

Lin Shen sang the last line and gently lifted his fingers from the keys.

The lingering notes dissipated under the crystal chandelier.

For three full seconds, no one spoke.

Then, someone finally spoke, voice trembling:

"This... whose song is this?"

Lin Shen stood up, straightened his cuffs, and looked at Su Wanqing's face, which was now completely frozen.

"I wrote it," he said calmly. "Didn't someone just say I can't even write a song?"

The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

Su Wanqing's lips moved, but she couldn't utter a word.

Lin Shen picked up his coat and walked toward the door. As he passed her, he paused for half a step.

"Cancelling the engagement is a great move," he said. "Thank you for reminding me tonight who I am."

The door closed behind him.

In the private room, the slick-haired man finally found his voice and murmured, "That song... what was its name?"

No one answered.

Only Su Wanqing stared blankly at the closed door, the wine in her hand having spilled onto her dress long ago.

——

Walking out of the hotel, the night breeze was cool.

Lin Shen looked up at the sky of this unfamiliar yet familiar world and let out a long sigh.

Deep in his mind, the vast treasure trove spanning two worlds lay quietly, waiting for him to draw from. Countless songs, countless poems, countless stories.

And this world hadn't even heard one yet.

He smiled and murmured to himself:

"Then... one by one, I'll sing them for you."