118. Some Jokes Should Not Be Made: The Roll Call at the Morning Meeting

After the afternoon rehearsal concluded, Li An informed everyone to gather at 10:30 the next morning on the second floor of the Huayang Theater.

“Tomorrow, we’ll officially run through our program.”

The children rubbed their hands together eagerly, ready to give it a try. Lately, this stretch of preparation had been far more grueling than when they were preparing for their graded exams.

Even though they only had a vague idea about what a run-through entailed, just hearing the word "stage" was enough to excite them.

They were going on stage.

“Teacher Li, do we need to wear our costumes for the rehearsal tomorrow?” Chen Yutong’s father asked.

Li An was about to respond, “No need, casual clothes will do.”

One after another, the parents waved goodbye to Li An as they took their children away.

Li An called out to Che Lin. He had initially planned to remind her to have her parents take her there tomorrow but decided it was better if he informed her himself.

No need to come to Yudong; the child wasn’t familiar with the place, and any mishap would cause trouble.

“Do you have a black dress? One that goes below the knees,” he asked, gesturing on himself.

Che Lin nodded.

“Do you have black shoes?”

Che Lin shook her head.

“Tell your mom to take you to buy a pair tomorrow, just black ones.”

Little Che Lin hesitated but nodded, then said, “Goodbye, Teacher Li.”

She slung her small backpack over her shoulder and left.

Back in the office, only Ma Tao and Xu Hongxin were present.

The initial program review three days ago had received unanimous praise for Chen Xuan’s segment. After two additional recordings, all issues were resolved. Therefore, Chen Xuan and Wang Panpan, who had no extra classes this afternoon, were politely borrowed by Deng Yingnan to serve as the audience for the string ensemble's run-through at Huayang Theater.

In truth, they were just going to act as stagehands for the string group's rehearsal tomorrow night.

Xu Hongxin and Ma Tao seemed to be hiding some mischief. When Li An entered, they exchanged glances full of playful intent.

“What’s up?” Li An asked, filling half a cup of water at the dispenser and drinking it down in one gulp.

Then, smiling at them, he said, “I’ll give you three chances to ask questions. Time’s ticking.”

Xu Hongxin loved Li An’s straightforwardness and grinned mischievously, “When did you two get together?”

Li An replied, “We’re not together yet.”

Ma Tao raised an eyebrow. Honestly, witnessing Chen Xuan feeding Li An that night had nearly shattered his preconceived notions of her.

So, after all that, “Still not together?”

Li An said earnestly, “No, one more question.”

“Hey, come on, An Ge, this isn’t fun,” they teased.

“Tell us about it,” they urged.

“Alright, last one,” Xu Hongxin thought for a moment. “Do you two have feelings for each other?”

Li An nodded candidly, “Yes.”

“Wow~” Xu Hongxin rubbed his hands together.

“Wow~” Ma Tao did the same.

They weren’t fools—spending so much time together, it was impossible not to notice something was going on, especially since after the Qixi Festival, Li An and Chen Xuan no longer hid their closeness in the office.

What could be more natural than two adults dating? They just happened to work at the same place.

Even Wang Panpan, who had accidentally walked into Chen Xuan’s classroom that noon and saw the two sitting side by side sharing a bowl of spicy hot pot, had covered her eyes, muttered “My bad,” and quietly closed the door before sneaking off.

“But be careful. Don’t joke around when she’s around,” Li An warned politely.

Many enjoyed teasing couples in their circle of semi-serious relationships. Though mostly in good spirits, one had to consider the personalities involved.

While Li An wasn’t fond of having his private love life discussed, as colleagues and friends, he could tolerate the occasional joke.

Chen Xuan, however, was far more introverted and likely uncomfortable with such teasing.

“Understood,” they nodded repeatedly.

Li An sent Chen Xuan a message asking when she would finish. She replied immediately.

“Eighty-one: I’m heading to Blue Whale. What are you having for dinner?”

“Xiaomi: Panpan and I are grabbing fast food at the theater entrance. After eating, I might accompany her for a walk. She invited me on Qixi.”

Just as he was about to say something more, another message arrived.

“Xiaomi: Don’t worry, come back early after you’re done.”

Feeling relieved, he sent Chen Xuan a digital red envelope with 99.99 yuan.

“Xiaomi: What’s this for?”

“Eighty-one: Lunch for yesterday and today.”

Chen Xuan hesitated but accepted; this was reasonable.

“Xiaomi: That’s too much.”

“Eighty-one: Treating you both to bubble tea. Okay, I’m clocking out now.”

Li An pocketed his phone, and the three of them left the office together.

Passing by Hou Cheng’s classroom, they heard piano notes rising and falling—two people playing.

The trio, previously chatting and laughing, fell silent.

Li An smiled and said, “Let’s go.”

Ma Tao and Xu Hongxin, listening to the piano, looked displeased.

Especially Xu Hongxin, who thought that if Li An and Lin Pengfei were playing that piece together, it would surely be far superior to Hou Cheng and Lin Pengfei’s rendition.

What was going on?

It all dated back to the morning meeting two days ago.

—

At the morning meeting following the initial program review, Qin Yong singled out Chen Xuan, Xu Nana, Jia Lu, Lin Pengfei, Xu Hongxin, Zeng Wei, and Li An for praise regarding their teacher-student performances.

This was understandable; young teachers’ concepts for the stage were more in tune with contemporary aesthetics, and they had indeed invested more time and energy.

Qin Yong then invited everyone to brainstorm the sequence of performances for each group’s concert.

Since the final act was fixed, the order of the other pieces mattered little.

After deciding the opening piece for each concert, the rest followed the order from the program review.

Once three program lists were laid out, the focus shifted.

Qin Yong felt the piano group’s total performance time was too short and proposed adding two teacher-performed pieces.

This sudden suggestion reminded many that, at the initial planning, except for the piano group, the other two ensembles had already scheduled teacher performances.

Lin Pengfei had even inquired about this, suspecting Qin Yong had quietly spoken to Tian Yu or Li An, but Qin Yong had consulted no one.

Lin Pengfei had joked that if he and Li An performed a piano duet, it would be fantastic.

But days passed with no news from the office, and everyone assumed the piano group wouldn’t have that segment, so the matter was dropped.

Yet Qin Yong brought it up again at the morning meeting.

As principal, his word was final.

If he said to arrange it, then it had to be arranged.

Still, the piano teachers deserved to discuss this—given an afternoon, they could surely devise a beautiful outcome for two pieces.

Undeniably, even with Tian Yu on medical leave, the piano group’s teaching strength remained the strongest among the three ensembles.

They could easily put together an entire concert performed solely by teachers.

But Qin Yong was adamant.

He immediately called on Lin Pengfei and Hou Cheng to select a piano duet.

Lin Pengfei was pleased to be chosen first but a bit disappointed it was paired with Hou Cheng, whom he looked down upon; within the piano group, he respected only Li An and Tian Yu.

Then came the last piece.

Most expected it would be Li An’s solo—no question.

Firstly, Tian Yu was on sick leave, removing Li An’s main rival.

Secondly, over the past month, Li An had been the most prominent piano teacher at the Yudong campus.

Whether by assessment results or stage presence, even Qin Yong had entrusted the piano group’s final performance to Li An.

Everyone understood this favoritism.

Just as they awaited Qin Yong to call Li An’s name, Qin Yong said instead,

“Leader Huang, you’ll perform a solo.”

The second solo was assigned to Huang Juan.

—