53. Teaching in Practice: Learning by Teaching and Practicing Simultaneously

Listening to Li An’s gentle, babbling voice, Wang Xiaohu felt that today’s Teacher Li was especially tender, just like his father had been when he taught him to count.
So he joined in, “One—two—three—four—”
The two of them, one big and one small, played and counted together, as if the whole lesson were a game.
Without even realizing it, as they played, Wang Xiaohu managed to complete his first hands-together practice of the Minuet.
Li An calculated it in his mind: for Duvernoy, it had taken Wang Xiaohu six lessons to play hands together from scratch, but for the Minuet, only two and a half.
Such progress truly deserved praise.
As the lesson drew to a close, Wang Xiaohu started whining, reluctant for it to end.
Faced with his pouting, Li An could only spread his hands; there was simply no way to add another lesson today.
To be in top form for tomorrow evening’s skills assessment, Li An had scheduled Yu Xiaobei’s and Liu Fengrui’s lessons all for this morning, so he could rest and prepare during the day tomorrow.
Seeing this, Wang Xiaohu could only sigh. In fact, he had his reasons for wanting to stay.
“Teacher.”
“Yes?”
“My mom is coming back tomorrow night. I probably won’t be able to watch your performance.”
He’d heard from Xiaohu’s grandmother that the boy’s mother would be coming home; at last, she really was.
Hearing the disappointment in the child’s voice, Li An crouched down and ruffled his hair with a smile. “That’s all right. I’ll send the video to your grandmother tomorrow night.”
Wang Xiaohu was still unhappy. He felt that since Li An always played games with him, not being there for Li An’s performance would be letting him down.
After a few words of comfort, Li An walked him out of the classroom.
As he said goodbye to grandfather and grandson in the hallway and saw Wang Xiaohu still gloomy, Li An called out, “Go home and practice well. You’ll have another chance to see me perform, and next time I’ll play an even more impressive piece for you.”
Wang Xiaohu’s eyes widened. “Really?”
Li An laughed. “Have I ever lied to you?”
“Never!”
At last, Wang Xiaohu was happy. “Goodbye, teacher.”
“Bye-bye.”
As Li An waved, a set of blue text floated before his eyes.
[Wang Xiaohu’s student-teacher bond increased to 45]
This child was truly unpredictable.
“Teacher!”
Just then, Yu Xiaobei broke free from her mother’s hand and ran up to Li An.
“Come on, Xiaobei, today we’re finishing this piece. Are you confident?” Li An asked deliberately loud.

Xiaobei nodded. “Yes!”
Exchanging a glance with Xiaobei’s mother, Li An took her into the classroom.
He had just closed the door when the door of Classroom 4 next door opened.
“Goodbye, Teacher Chen.”
“Goodbye.”
Chen Xuan saw her student off, then stood by the door sipping from her cup for a few seconds before turning back inside.
…
Li An: “Xiaobei, with me: one—two—one—two—”
Yu Xiaobei: “One—two—one—two—”
Li An: “Pay attention, guide it, guide it, Xiaobei.”
Yu Xiaobei: “One—two—one—two—”
Li An: “That’s right. Wrist up—down—up—down—”
Yu Xiaobei: “One—two—one—two—”
According to the teaching plan, this lesson was meant to finish Xiaobei’s final hands-together practice.
So teacher and student kept this steady rhythm throughout the lesson.
Before they finished, he had Xiaobei play once on her own, then messaged her mother the points she needed to focus on while practicing at home.
“Xiaobei, practice a bit more on your own.”
Li An stepped out and said to her mother, “She’s finished this piece. I’ve sent you the things she needs to pay attention to in her practice these next couple of days.”
“Thank you, Teacher Li.” Xiaobei’s mother thanked him, then asked, “What time should we arrive tomorrow evening?”
Li An replied, “Best to get to Huayang Theater before seven. If you’re a bit late, that’s fine. When you arrive at the music hall entrance on the second floor, our staff will be waiting. Just go in with your child.”
Xiaobei’s mother nodded, smiling. “All right. We’re looking forward to your performance, Teacher Li.”
Watching the mother and daughter depart, Li An sighed inwardly; Xiaobei’s student-teacher bond hadn’t changed today.
It seemed he’d have to try something different in the next phase.
Ever since he began her “route,” he had a feeling Xiaobei’s bond was stuck right before eighty.
Maybe when they broke that barrier, something new would happen.
At sixty, he’d unlocked the piano studio.
What about eighty?
He looked forward to it.
Since learning “Blue Bird” last lesson, Liu Fengrui had come to class today with noticeably more enthusiasm.

In the first half of the lesson, Li An listened to Liu Fengrui’s scale exercises; in the second, he guided him through Bach’s Two-Part Inventions from start to finish.
“We’ve now wrapped up everything for the upcoming exam. There are fourteen days left. What’s the most important thing now?”
“Practice!”
Liu Fengrui answered.
Li An gave a thumbs up. “Exactly. Practice well at home. Didn’t you say you liked the theme song from One Punch Man? As long as you keep up with your studies, I’ll teach you to play one of those pieces every month.”
Liu Fengrui nodded vigorously. “Understood!”
After last lesson’s systematic study of “Blue Bird,” he’d realized that to master a piece from an anime, he had to break it down bit by bit, pay attention to every detail, and even rehearse rhythms that don’t often appear in standard repertoire.
It was like discovering a whole new world.
Having heard his teacher perform the complete piece, he was now determined to become a pianist specializing in these kinds of works.
“All right, lesson’s over. You’d better come tomorrow night, understood?”
“Heh, of course! See you, teacher!”
After seeing Liu Fengrui off, Li An returned to the office for a drink of water, then went back to the classroom. Teaching Fengrui was getting easier and easier.
It was as if he and the child had found a perfect balance. Li An no longer forced every student to play this or that piece from the syllabus.
Besides the essential technical exercises, they could play whatever they liked.
As long as you enjoyed it, your teacher would support you.
But the premise was: whatever you choose, you must do it well. Otherwise, all that remains is the parents’ refrain about “broadening interests and cultivating artistic sensibility.”
There are plenty of ways to broaden interests and cultivate sensibility; there’s no need to study music specifically for that.
After a short break, Li An played back the recordings from the three children’s lessons on his phone.
Naturally, he listened to his own playing.
Afterward, he felt more at ease.
Comparing today’s recording to yesterday’s, it was clear his left index finger was no longer striking so heavily.
Given that he’d performed while completely setting aside his own and the student’s muscle memory, it showed that the method he was currently using was effective at this stage.
If he kept up this practice and gradually shifted from scales to arpeggios, he should see concrete results in about two weeks.
Li An set down his phone and walked to the window, his gaze drifting over the crowd to rest far away on the domed roof of Huayang Theater.
Behind that calm look, a trace of passion and longing shone through.