Mapo Tofu with Steamed Rice

When Li An returned, he happened to catch Ji Yang coming downstairs, and the three of them escorted him to the door.

He was supposed to say goodbye and leave, but just before stepping out, he turned back to the couple and mentioned, "Tomorrow night, our school is holding a small teacher skill evaluation on the second floor of Huayang Theatre. If you have time, you could bring your child to watch. There are teachers who graduated from our country's music academies, as well as those who studied in Germany."

...

Having money truly affords one freedom.

On his way home, Li An thought that if his family had even a tenth of Ji Yang’s resources, he would probably have finished his master’s degree by now.

Going abroad—those three words contain the blood and tears of countless art students.

He needed to make money.

After a bout of heavy rain, Rongcheng was plunged into the peak of midsummer.

When Li An returned home, he once again felt as though he was stepping into a giant steamer.

Ba Wan sprawled listlessly on the living room floor, clearly suffering from the heat.

“Come take a bath.”

In no time, Li An stripped off his clothes. Ba Wan struggled as he was dragged into the bathroom.

“Meow—”

“Meow—”

“Meow—”

Three in the morning.

“Ba Wan, are you hot?”

It was a pointless question; Ba Wan’s tongue lolled on his chin, unwilling to pay Li An any attention.

Li An decided that after these busy days, he would buy a secondhand air conditioner for the bedroom.

Otherwise, life would be unbearable.

...

July 29th—today was a milestone for the Yudong campus.

Tonight, eight teachers would gather to measure their skills, vying for superiority.

Usually, within training institutions, teachers seldom compare who’s better or worse; everyone knows where they stand. But this time was different: anyone brave enough to step onto the stage would immediately reveal their true caliber.

It was exhilarating.

Early in the morning, half of the teachers without classes left for Huayang Theatre to help with logistics.

But there wasn’t much to do; the concert hall stage had already been professionally set up by Qin Yong the night before.

Most people were there simply for the excitement.

And rumor had it there’d be boxed lunches at noon.

For Chen Xuan, today was also significant.

It marked exactly three months since she joined Yudong—she was now officially a full-time staff member.

Returning to the office after her noon class, Chen Xuan found a bouquet of flowers on her desk.

Surprised, she walked over and picked it up. The card attached read:

‘Welcome to our family—Yudong Teaching Department’

Immediately, her fatigue melted away. She happily put the card away and placed the bouquet on the left windowsill.

“That’s so stingy,” Wang Panpan complained, putting down her phone. “Just a bouquet for your confirmation?”

Xu Hongxin also set his phone aside. “Be grateful. Before your cousin came, we didn’t even get flowers.”

Ma Tao chimed in with a suggestion, “How about we treat ourselves to a good meal at lunchtime to celebrate Sister Xuan?”

The other two immediately agreed.

But Chen Xuan had a class at one o’clock, so they had to shelve the idea.

“I’ll treat everyone to takeout,” she offered, not wanting to dampen the mood. “What would you like?”

After some discussion, they agreed on Sichuan cuisine.

Wang Panpan wanted twice-cooked pork; Ma Tao craved shredded potatoes; Xu Hongxin wanted stir-fried preserved pork with garlic shoots; Chen Xuan chose mapo tofu.

“What about An?” Xu Hongxin asked, and only then did they realize they hadn’t seen Li An all morning, nor was there any activity in Classroom Three.

“Maybe he went to the concert hall for lunch,” Ma Tao speculated, though it sounded both clueless and highly probable.

Xu Hongxin called Li An, but his phone rang inside his office desk drawer.

“He didn’t take his phone,” Wang Panpan shrugged.

Chen Xuan knew Li An only left his phone in the office when he was in the classroom, so she decided to check in Classroom Three.

It was just a meal, and everyone was included; it felt wrong to leave him out.

Besides, nothing was really going on between them.

Thinking this, she arrived at the door to Li An’s classroom.

She knocked gently twice.

No response.

“Li An.”

She knocked again.

Still no response.

Where was he?

Her first thought was that Li An wasn’t there.

But then she wondered if he had heard her but didn’t want to respond.

The more she thought, the more aggrieved she felt, so she put her hand on the doorknob.

She’d just take a quick look; if he wasn’t there, she’d close the door and leave.

If he was, well, she couldn’t think further. Her mind flashed hot, and she twisted her wrist lightly.

With a click, the door opened.

Through the crack, Li An was sprawled asleep over the piano. She felt an inexplicable relief.

Her gaze drifted to the half-eaten bread beside his hand, and she felt a pang of concern.

Why couldn’t he eat properly?

...

After hesitating for a moment, she decided not to wake him just yet.

Back in the office, she ordered the dishes everyone had asked for, and for Li An, she added a portion of boiled pork slices.

Xu Hongxin and Ma Tao each only wanted rice, while she and Wang Panpan didn’t order a main dish.

So she added four servings of rice.

Forty minutes later, the food arrived. Xu Hongxin went to fetch Li An, and when they returned, Li An rubbed his eyes at the sight of the delicious spread.

In the corridor, Xu Hongxin had only told him that Chen Xuan was celebrating her confirmation with takeout, unaware that she had already gone to call him earlier.

He figured, if she called, he’d eat; they were still good colleagues.

And food was always innocent.

The two sat down. Ma Tao and Wang Panpan had already started eating.

Looking at the mapo tofu, Li An praised, “This is good.”

Chen Xuan muttered quietly, “Eat up.”

It was their first conversation in three days, if it could be called a conversation.

Chen Xuan thought it counted.

Li An was already digging into his rice.

...

Full and rested.

Li An took the initiative to help clear the plates and trash, then returned to the piano room, picking up his scores again.

Before going on stage, his habit was not to practice excessively.

But he always had to study the music.

He emptied his mind and looked through every piece he would play, again and again, then went straight to the stage.

Tonight’s stage was different from competitions or other performances; the repertoire would be drawn at random.

Which meant Li An had to review seventeen pieces.

It was a substantial workload—at his graduation recital, he had only prepared five pieces.

So, from early morning, he had been engrossed in his scores.

He also considered which pieces he could play from memory if they were drawn tonight.

Although the rules didn’t specify extra points for playing from memory, it was always a bonus.

There was also the matter of pairing the pieces.

The rules stated that two pieces would be performed consecutively, without a required order.

Thus, he could choose whichever piece suited him best as the opener.

Li An had participated in several competitions—not major ones, but he had plenty of experience with piano stage performances.

The first piece to be played was crucial.