Chapter 1

1

Talent, it just doesn't make sense sometimes.

My mom, a world-class pianist, but my playing sounds like a bag of cotton balls.

My dad, an uncrowned king of opera, but I can't hit a single note in tune.

My older sister, she composed a piece at six and had her solo concert at nine. Meanwhile, I was bawling my eyes out because my music teacher mocked me. Even our pet parrot can belt out La Traviata flawlessly.

Luckily, this tone-deaf mess is still the family's darling.

I've become exceptionally good at just… chilling.

On my eighteenth birthday, a young prodigy, fresh off winning the Junior Piano Gold Prize, publicly demanded a DNA test. He claimed I was a fraud, a cuckoo in the nest, and he was the real son.

I knew it!

I always felt like such an outsider; turns out, there was no blood connection at all!

…

Ever since I could remember, I thought I was the family's balance. Everyone else had perfect pitch, but I was the lone discordant note in a symphony of talent—born with absolute tone-deafness.

My mom, Rosalind, a genius pianist who debuted at six and won awards at sixteen. She could make a broken, out-of-tune piano sound perfect.

My dad, Liam, was revered as a top tenor in both the East and West, once shattering a glass with his voice in a documentary.

My sister, Lyra, a born composer, could instantly replicate anything she heard, then improvise on it.

And me, Leo, truly unworthy of the 'Leo' (meaning 'sound' in a poetic way, though not directly in English) in my name.

Just as I’d grown accustomed to being treated with affectionate pity, like a disabled loved one, a little hero descended upon us.

“Get out! I’m the real Leo! I’m the true son of the Forester family!”

Caleb stood at the side gate of our villa garden, one hand clutching the confession of a recently apprehended kidnapper, the other holding his phone, playing a recording from a competition he’d won last month.

“The National Junior Piano Gold Prize! Vacant for two years, and I won it! I’m the true member of this family!”

He glared, teeth clenched, at me, standing by the fountain, eating cake. For a moment, the cake in my mouth tasted even sweeter.

See? I knew there was something off! I was never a Forester by blood!

The air in the garden thickened. Dad, who was sipping a throat-soothing herbal tea, preparing to sing, set his cup down, his lips pressed into a thin line. Mom, laughing and chatting with students and teachers, turned, her eyes narrowing slightly. Lyra, seated under a tree, immersed in composition, put down her pen and rose, taking a deep breath.

Caleb, assuming everyone was stunned and overjoyed, a smile bloomed on his face: “Dad, Mom, Lyra, that kidnapper snuck into the hospital and stole me away. Then, an unmarried pregnant girl found out, kept quiet, and swapped her own baby in.”

“So, the fake Leo is tone-deaf. He doesn’t have our family’s genes at all! Eighteen years of meticulous education, wasted!”

Meticulous education? I instinctively recalled being forced to listen to music, practice singing, learn notation, and play piano… until, at age ten, I nearly jumped from a window in despair.

Hiss—I sucked in a cold breath. Some meticulousness you just can’t handle.

“Great news!”

I clapped first, loudly exclaiming, “Since the real son is home, can I leave?” I licked my lips, unable to hide my excitement. “I won’t have to memorize Beethoven’s scores anymore!”

“And I won’t have to cry practicing piano every single day!”

Caleb froze. Everyone turned to look at me. Dad’s expression softened as he walked over and patted my back.

“You little rascal, what nonsense are you dreaming up?” He turned to Caleb, his face hardening. “Son, your so-called evidence requires further investigation. Until the truth comes to light, please watch your mouth.”

“Investigation? The confession is right here!” Caleb’s voice was high with emotion, waving his phone, which showed him receiving his award. “I am your son! A musical genius capable of winning a Gold Prize!”

Lyra rolled her eyes subtly. “Who doesn’t know that this year’s Gold Prize was a razor-thin win? It should be called the ‘barely-made-it’ award.”

Caleb’s lips trembled with anger. But Lyra had won that very award at eleven, with the highest score. I sighed internally for Caleb.

Poor kid, do you really think coming to the Forester family is paradise? Everyone here, except me, is a force of nature!

2

Mom immediately arranged for an expedited DNA test.

The next morning, the report was out. Caleb was right.

He was the real Leo, the Forester family’s prodigal son. And I? Just a little stray abandoned by a misguided girl.

Caleb pushed open my bedroom door, triumphantly declaring, “Do you really deserve such a nice room? Get out! It’s mine now!”

I swiftly got up and began packing my suitcase. “Alright, I’m out of here!” On the walls were Lyra’s monthly updated scores. It was almost the end of the month, her inspection time. Great, no need to memorize them anymore, haha.

“Leo, what are you doing?” Mom walked in and gently placed a hand on mine. “The house has plenty of empty rooms, several of them.”

I hesitated. “Uh… the real son wants to live here…”

“I’ve raised you for eighteen years!” Mom said firmly. “Both of you are my children. Leo, just consider it like having a new brother in the house. Get along with Caleb.”

Caleb gritted his teeth slightly, then forced a smile. “I don’t think we’ll get along. A tone-deaf person might infect my perfect pitch!”

I wholeheartedly agreed. Exactly. I knew my own limits perfectly well!

Lunchtime arrived. Caleb changed into a custom-tailored suit, looking incredibly sharp. But he didn’t realize that in the Forester dining room, it wasn’t about clothes; it was about something else.

“This quail soup is quite good, have some more.” Mom elegantly took a sip, then asked, “Lyra, last night, Lady Serena wanted to replace the original triad with a C9. What do you think?”

I nearly choked. Knew it! The music meeting!

Lyra wiped her mouth with a napkin before replying, “While triads are simple and common, they’re also the most versatile. A C9 is more relaxed, so I think a concert-exclusive version would be more suitable.”

Mom smiled. “That’s exactly what I told her. Pop music is fine for a casual diversion, but don’t forget your main craft. Maestro Carlo is asking about your solo recital again. He even suggested your dad could join…”

Dad gave a knowing smile, cleared his throat with a sip of tea, and instantly launched into a segment of a drinking song. I, meanwhile, kept my head down, shoveling food. Ignore me, please, Amen.

The next question, however, was directed at a keenly expectant Caleb. “Caleb.”

Caleb quickly put down his chopsticks, giving Mom a confident look. “Yes, Mom?”

“Since you won a Gold Prize, your musical literacy must be up to par.” Mom tapped the tabletop like piano keys, casually playing a short passage. “How do you think this passage could be improved?”

Caleb’s expression froze. He stared at Mom’s hands and the dining table laden with dishes, sweat beading on his forehead. “This… this isn’t a piano, it’s a dining table. How can I tell?”

Lyra let out a small snort. “I could understand it when I was nine.”

Caleb bit down hard. Mom calmly announced, “It’s not too late to mend the fence. You’ve returned home, so you’ll naturally receive the same education as all Forester children.”

My heart sank, and I quickly took a big gulp of hot soup. The Forester children’s education… that was a one-way ticket to hell! Caleb, you can do it!

3

Caleb was utterly confident. After his initial defeat at lunch, he was even more determined.

“I’ve missed out on so much progress before!” He clenched his fist and shouted, “If it weren’t for that kidnapper, if I’d grown up normally, I’d be a thousand times more successful than Leo!”

“I’ll prove my bloodline!”

His cheeks flushed after the outburst. Just then, applause and laughter echoed from above. Caleb bristled, looking around. “Who?! The parrot? Get down here!”

The parrot cocked its head, observing him from its perch. Seeing this, I quickly called out, “Flyer, don’t mind him. Keep eating!”

Caleb spun around and snapped at me. “Leo! What are you showing off about? I’m the real son of this family! A pet, and I can’t even order it around?”

I sighed. Idiot. Didn’t he know Flyer was like a flying hydraulic system? I was saving him! Besides, Flyer wasn’t just any parrot…

A moment later, Flyer, fed and content, lifted its head and opened its beak. A familiar song filled the living room. It was eerily similar to the drinking song Dad had sung at lunch. Caleb’s jaw dropped. Flyer elegantly flew over his head, dropping a feather. He spat and brushed off the feather, then asked me, flustered and angry, “Can this bird sing opera?”

I shrugged. “Your ears aren’t broken. Dad found Flyer when he was touring in the Southeast. He raised him from a hatchling, and he’s incredibly musical.”

Caleb couldn’t believe it. He looked up at the bird, then down at me, his mouth opening and closing. Finally, he broke. “What the hell is going on?!” He shrieked, “Even a bird is a prodigy here! Leo! How have you managed to live peacefully until today?!”

I sat cross-legged on the plush carpet, starting a game, and spared him a smile. “I just accept reality, accept myself.”

“You’re shameless!” Caleb’s face was beet red, looking utterly disgusted. “You’ve taken my place since childhood, received so much education, yet accomplished nothing! You’re a piece of garbage! I refuse to live under the same roof as garbage and pollute the music!”

He ran upstairs to find Mom and Dad. “Dad! Mom! Are you there? I have something to say!”

Mom and Dad stepped out onto the terrace. “In the middle of the day, so loud. Don’t you worry about disturbing others? What is it?” Mom’s expression was displeased.

Caleb pointed furiously at me. “Mom, now that your real son is home, there’s no reason for him to have privileges that I don’t!”

“I want to go to the Conservatory, I want to become your personal disciple, I want to be the rightful heir of the Forester family!” He spoke with increasing indignation, gritting his teeth. “Also, your energy is limited. With a genius around, why bother with garbage?”

“Leo is tone-deaf, any further training is a waste. All the lessons, instruments, and practice rooms assigned to him should be given to me instead!”

I dropped my game, utterly thrilled. Really? Forester family lessons? For a tone-deaf person, that's eighteen levels of hell! Music practice rooms? My sister's domain. Every time I set foot in there, I'd crash and burn!

“Yes, yes, give it all to him!” I jumped up and shouted. “Mom, Dad, Caleb is so motivated! Listen to him! He’s a genius; he’s the one who can truly absorb the nourishment of the lessons!”

Mom shot me a quick, sarcastic glance. Dad, however, hesitated. “Caleb, are you sure about this? All the courses… they’re quite challenging.”

“It’s not hard for me!” Caleb was resolute. “I’m a true genius, I can definitely meet all the Forester family’s demands!”

4

Caleb’s resolve made Dad nod slightly. Mom also smiled, as if she saw a diligently shining raw gem.

“Alright,” she agreed. “If both you brothers have no objections, then so be it.”

Dad happily said, “He is my son after all, good!”

“Tomorrow, you’ll start your studies according to the Red Standard.”

The Red Standard? My hand went limp, and the game controller dropped onto my leg. Lyra also looked over with a strange expression. That was the Forester family’s highest-tier training program, reserved for once-in-a-generation talents, intended to cultivate music masters who would dominate an era. Among our elders, only Uncle Arthur had endured it to the end; he was currently in a sanatorium, trying to channel music from the beyond, hoping to summon the spirit of Qin Shi Huang.

Caleb knew nothing of this. His heart was brimming with the joy of victory. He lifted his chin high, haughtily telling me, “Do you see? The real thing is real, and a fake is a fake. I am the heir of the Forester family!”

“As for you, just wait to pack your bags and get out!”

I, filled with anticipation, clasped my hands together, bowing slightly. “Good brother, it’s all on you! Go for it!” I was genuinely sincere. If he couldn't hack it, I'd probably go back to that difficult life.

The next day, at 5:30 AM.

The night was still deep when Caleb was woken by the intercom next to his bed: “Caleb! Wake up!”

“Time for physical training! One hundred push-ups, one hundred squats, one hundred pull-ups!”

Caleb’s eyes were blank, and he instinctively retorted, “I’m a musician, not an athlete!”

The intercom replied, “You’ll be performing for several hours in a single concert. How will you manage without good physical stamina? Don’t get ahead of yourself and forget the importance of building a foundation. Hurry up!”

Caleb grudgingly got out of bed and started exercising on the small balcony of his suite.

Breakfast time. Caleb shuffled to his seat, his legs trembling. However, what awaited him was a thick stack of sheet music. Mom, watching his training video, said, “You only completed a third of your workout. Now, memorize the first piece in this large Spanish scorebook.”

“I’ll check before lunch. No food if you can’t recite it.”

Caleb’s fingertips trembled. “The first piece is thirty-two pages long! And what are those markings on it?”

“Spanish,” Mom said nonchalantly. “Translations always miss some nuances. Master multiple languages, and you’ll be able to analyze the truest intentions of great composers as much as possible.”

Caleb held back and held back, but seeing me casually eating steamed buns diagonally across from him, he couldn’t contain himself. “What about him?”

Mom was calm and composed. “He’s tone-deaf, so memorizing is pointless. His requirements are lower.”

“But you are a genius with perfect pitch. Sheet music is more important than food.”

I happily picked up a shrimp dumpling, mumbling, “Delicious! Uh, why are you looking at me? Hurry and memorize it, don’t miss out on lunch!”

Caleb’s face flushed red, but remembering his boastful words from yesterday, he remained silent and lowered his head to memorize the score. Today, time dragged on like years for him. Four hours of memorizing followed by eight hours of piano practice, and in the evening, he had to do music analysis with Lyra. At 1 AM, I finished my game and drifted off to sleep. Caleb, clutching a messy score, was sobbing.

Mom slapped the ruler onto the table, disappointed. “It’s only the first day! Your sister proactively proposed this dual-track analysis method when she was eight, and you’re eighteen and can’t learn it? You still think you’re a genius?”

“No, this is too advanced!” Caleb’s eyes were wide, tears streaming down.

“Too advanced?” Mom crossed her arms, speaking coldly. “Leo is tone-deaf, but he never said learning music or notation was difficult!”

“You look down on him, yet you’re not even as good as he is?”

Caleb’s gaze sharpened. A hypothetical rival was more effective than a ruler. He wiped his face, bitterly saying, “How could I be inferior to him? I’m better than him in every way!”

At this moment, I frowned and pulled the covers tighter. Caleb had no idea how outrageous the Forester family’s training methods were. He also didn't know the greatest use of a slacker like me in the Forester family…