Their relentless quest for sensational stories and intrusive photographs had become a constant presence in her life.

In the Dome Theatre.

The theater's huge space was divided into an opera house, a music hall, and small theatres.

Among them, the opera house was the most splendid. Situated at the heart of the Grand Theatre, it boasted the impressive capability to comfortably seat close to three thousand individuals.

The auditorium was as high as a three-floor building,

Audiences that watched from the farthest end of the auditorium had the best view. They had an unobstructed view of the whole stage from their elevated positions.

As the clock struck half past two in the afternoon, the troupe filed into the venue and began the rehearsal scheduled before the concert.

The news that Mia was coming to watch the rehearsal had spread like wildfire among the performers.

Mia was the original composer of every single melody, so watching the rehearsal was a completely natural thing for her to do.

Among them were some musicians in the early stages of their careers who were loyal followers of Mia. They were delighted to hear that their idol was coming to watch them perform.

The conductor, Atwood Clarkson, was also delighted at the prospect of seeing Mia.

“Her work is a source of inspiration to me and it has always been a dream of mine to have a conversation with her in person."

Hearing this, a delegate of the Musicians' Association smiled and said, “Mr. Clarkson, with all the experience and knowledge you possess, Mia should be the one eager to hold a conversation with you and seek your advice,"

Atwood, however, shook his head in disagreement and said, “Art is a form of knowledge, The one who stands at the highest level, regardless of age, is the real master. Speaking of composing skills, I have to acknowledge that Mia is better than me."

Atwood was one of, if not the most famous conductors and pianists across the country, and throughout his career had occasionally created some music works in his free time, Although there were few, they were all published by the Musicians' Association and all well received.

Even with all his fame, Atwood was gentle and humble.

A feeling of pride spread among Mia's fans as they heard Atwood sing her praises.

“Hey! How dare you! What do you think you are doing, huh?" A sharp scream abruptly drew everyone's attention away.

Clare, dressed in a blue delicate gown, was tongue-lashing a girl of her age.

There was no sign of makeup on the girl's face, and it was dotted with freckles. She was wearing round-frame glasses. At first glance, she looked like she had time-traveled from the past.

“Well, I'm so sorry, Clare. I had no intention to touch your instrument." The girl's voice was low and shaky as she apologized.

“You had no intention? I had just finished adjusting the strings. Thanks to you, I have to adjust them all over again! You seem to have forgotten your place! You are just an ordinary assistant. What do you think gives you the right to mess around at the rehearsal, huh? Do you imagine yourself to be Mia?"

Upon hearing that, everyone frowned. If someone had collided, even just slightly, with the body of the instrument, the strings were indeed likely to come loose and affect its performance.

Nevertheless, adjusting the strings was not a difficult thing to do. Even an ordinary art student could easily get it done, not to mention a skilled player like Clare.