Vincent Grandelle's gaze lingered on Sophia Laurent's face, his eyes misting over.

Sophia shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny. "Is everything alright, sir?" she asked softly.

The elderly man blinked as if waking from a dream and shook his head.

Albert Roscente approached briskly. "Sophia, allow me to introduce Mr. Vincent Grandelle, the foremost expert in antique ceramic restoration."

Sophia's breath caught. She bowed respectfully. "An honor to meet you, Mr. Grandelle."

Vincent gave a slight nod, the redness around his eyes still visible.

"This is Sophia Laurent, Benjamin Laurent's granddaughter," Albert continued proudly. "She's the one who restored Wang Meng's Hermitage Scroll so flawlessly that even we old-timers couldn't spot the repairs."

Vincent's eyes brightened as he studied Sophia with renewed interest.

"Would you like to learn antique ceramic restoration?" he asked abruptly.

Sophia hesitated, then nodded. "Very much so."

"How about becoming my final apprentice?" Vincent stroked his beard.

Albert nudged her urgently. "Say yes! Mr. Grandelle rarely takes students."

Sophia's eyes curved like crescent moons. "It would be my privilege to learn from you."

Vincent laughed heartily. "Excellent! We'll hold the ceremony when we return to New York."

As they exchanged contact information, Sophia noticed the slight tremor in the old man's fingers.

The dead of night.

Sophia jolted awake from a nightmare, her back drenched in cold sweat.

Through the window drifted the mournful notes of a flute, weeping a melancholy tune.

The familiar melody of "Moonlight Carries My Longing" made her heart clench.

Wrapping a robe around herself, she followed the sound.

Moonlight illuminated a tall figure standing on the arched bridge.

His black leather jacket accentuated broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist. Long fingers moved gracefully over the flute's holes.

That silhouette was so achingly familiar it stole her breath.

The flute's lament spoke of longing in every note.

"Though separated by a thousand miles..."

Sophia's eyes burned.

Memory flashed to two silent children playing flute beneath a pear blossom tree.

The same moonlight shone now, but where was that companion of her youth?

A single tear traced her cheek.

"Madam?" A bodyguard spoke softly. "That looks like Mr. Sullivan."