46. Winning Over the Two Sisters

So, the 300 yuan hourly rate Hu Rong paid was absolutely worth it.

Li An's final explanation was that, at this stage, aside from keeping up with the assignments Professor Yu gave, Ji Yang absolutely needed to practice a large number of études on her own initiative.

“It’ll be even more so in college. What you learn from a professional teacher is only about ten percent; the rest all depends on yourself.”

Ji Chenguang wholeheartedly agreed when he heard this. He’d been through it himself—this isn’t just true in music; in any subject, once you reach the intermediate and advanced levels, it all comes down to personal effort.

“Yangyang, did you hear that? You can’t rely on your teacher for everything. You have to develop a spirit of self-motivated learning.”

“Oh, Dad, I know already!”

After class, Hu Rong asked Li An where to buy the étude book.

“Any Xinhua Bookstore will have it.”

Li An found a picture of the cover of Kramer’s Études online and sent it to Hu Rong before taking his leave.

The family of three returned to the living room, where Hu Rong asked Ji Yang, “How did today’s lesson feel?”

“It was awesome~” Ji Yang grabbed her juice and took a big gulp. “Weren’t you watching the whole time?”

There was a hint of dissatisfaction in her tone at her mother’s “supervision.”

Hu Rong understood her daughter’s feelings, but she couldn’t rest easy, so she didn’t respond to that. “I noticed Mr. Li speaks quite fast. If there’s anything you don’t understand, you need to ask right away, understand?”

“What’s wrong with fast? I actually think Mr. Li explains things more clearly than Professor Yu. And it’s not all that stuff about how mountains rise and fall, and how rivers ripple. Now that’s really abstract. Well, not that you’d understand.”

Ji Yang, juice in hand, turned and went upstairs. “I’m going to shower.”

She said it without thinking, but her parents exchanged meaningful glances. Each saw something in the other’s eyes.

Hu Rong whispered, “Do you think Mr. Li can really explain things better than Professor Yu?”

Ji Chenguang smiled but didn’t answer. “Let’s not discuss that now. I think you should take a moment to ask him about Yangyang studying abroad. After all, he’s Professor Wei’s student—he’s definitely more knowledgeable than us. Besides, we can’t just listen to Professor Yu’s side of things.”

...

On his way home, Li An had just taken out his milk tea when the system began to flash.

[Ji Yang’s student-teacher index has increased to 62]

'Ding—'

‘Ji Yang’s student-teacher index has reached 60; she will automatically enter Li An’s piano studio.’

Li An opened the panel, a look of satisfaction on his face.

From today on, finally, someone could practice piano with Yu Xiaobei.

Inside the studio, a cartoon version of Ji Yang with a blue ponytail was wandering around, followed closely by the slightly shorter Yu Xiaobei. Neither of them was practicing.

Beside Cartoon Ji Yang was a line of information—

Student Name: Ji Yang

Student-Teacher Index: (60/100)

Status: Resting

Weekly Practice Hours: 0

Total Practice Hours: 0

Li An glanced at Yu Xiaobei.

Student-Teacher Index: (76/100)

Weekly Practice Hours: 18

Total Practice Hours: 44

Looking at the numbers, it was all very clear. Li An silently gave Xiaobei another point of praise in his heart.

After this period of intensive lessons, Li An had accumulated 28 teaching points.

He decided to unlock the initial strategy for both of his female students, one older, one younger.

He started with the older one.

Ten seconds later.

[Recently, every night, Ji Yang listens to Chopin’s Étude “Winter Wind” to fall asleep.]

Didn’t expect her taste to be so heavy—can you really sleep listening to “Winter Wind”? But that explains why Ji Yang’s student-teacher index had risen to 60 so quickly; it just happened to coincide with the period when he’d been demonstrating black key études to her.

Wasn’t this tip essentially telling him that Ji Yang likes Chopin’s études?

Next, he unlocked Yu Xiaobei’s.

Another ten seconds passed, and then Li An was stunned.

[Yu Xiaobei does not want to take grade exams.]

This was something Li An could never have anticipated.

“Xiaobei doesn’t want to take piano exams?”

He quickly reviewed the content of Xiaobei’s recent lessons and finally noticed something.

It seemed that ever since Xiaobei’s student-teacher index passed 75, it had barely increased.

Could it be that, during the last lesson, he’d mentioned that her progress was a bit slow, hinting that “any slower would delay her exam,” and this had affected her psychologically?

But the child hadn’t shown any emotional reaction when answering questions.

Li An wasn’t certain.

Fortunately, he’d discovered it in time; otherwise, he would’ve kept thinking, like Xiaobei’s mother, that Xiaobei cared about the exams.

The next morning, during Xiaobei’s lesson, Li An paid extra attention to this point.

Sure enough.

Whenever he brought up the exam, Xiaobei would barely respond.

This wasn’t typical for her, so he knew he’d found the problem.

Normally, when they played piano together, her student-teacher index would rise significantly.

But today, after they finished playing hands together from measures 24 to 49, Xiaobei’s index didn’t budge.

The score itself didn’t matter to Li An; what troubled him was how to resolve the underlying conflict between the child and her parents.

If he hadn’t known about Xiaobei’s true feelings, and if she kept them bottled up, in a year or two she’d probably just go along with her parents.

But now that he knew, he couldn’t pretend not to.

He’d have to proceed carefully.

Overall, Xiaobei completed this lesson quite well; he’d assigned her a lot last time, and she’d finished it all.

During the conversation with Xiaobei’s mother after class, Li An learned that ever since he’d advised Xiaobei not to focus solely on perfecting individual measures, her practice efficiency had improved notably over the past two days.

“Mr. Li, did you assign her a lot today?” asked her mother.

Li An shook his head and explained, “I already gave her plenty last lesson. Today, we focused on processing those sections. She’ll need to go home and practice and absorb them before we can move on.”

He paused, then added, “At most, after another two lessons, Xiaobei will have this little sonatina under her belt.”

Her mother pushed her glasses up and nodded. Then, with a hint of confusion, she asked, “By the way, Mr. Li, last night a Ms. Wang called me and said she’ll be in charge of Xiaobei’s post-lesson follow-ups from now on.”

Li An nodded, “Yes, that’s correct. Our post-lesson follow-ups won’t necessarily happen after every class. If she calls, you can just briefly update her on your child’s progress.”

“The teaching itself is still my responsibility; Ms. Wang will handle scheduling and any changes to lesson times, as well as contacting you in advance if the school launches any further educational activities. If you have any questions, you can also reach out to her. It’s a three-way collaboration.”

Just then, Liu Fengrui burst into the hallway.

After seeing out Xiaobei and her mother, Li An checked the time—five minutes till the next lesson—then returned to the classroom but didn’t begin right away.

He took a sip of tea and asked, “Xiao Liu, have you been practicing at home these past few days?”

“Every day,” Liu Fengrui replied.

Li An chuckled, “Practicing ‘The Blue Bird’ or Bach? Don’t lie to me!”

Liu Fengrui let out an awkward laugh, “Both—both of them.”

Yeah, right. That expression wouldn’t even fool Wang Xiaohu.

Li An drew out his words, “Do you want to spend the entire next lesson on ‘The Blue Bird’?”

[Liu Fengrui’s student-teacher index has increased to 38]

At those words, Liu Fengrui instantly put on a look of desperate eagerness and called out, “I do, teacher, I do! Just tell me what you need me to do.”

Li An liked that clever, resourceful attitude. He put down his teacup and said quietly,

“Someone might come to observe today. Our lesson needs to finish Bach’s Two-Part Inventions. Do you understand?”

Liu Fengrui thought it was something serious, stood up, tapped his chest, and replied in an even lower voice,

“Teacher, you picked the right person for the job.”

Just then, there was a knock at the door. The teacher and student exchanged a glance.

Their fists bumped lightly together—one big, one small.

Both broke into sly grins.