Xiaomi Didn’t Want to Smile

Achoo!

Li An rubbed his nose and reached up to turn off the air conditioner.

Even public electricity is still electricity.

Two hours later, he finished today’s scale practice.

Then he began reviewing Chopin’s études.

Recently, he’d discovered that, when playing some of Chopin’s swift passages, his fingers would sometimes linger subtly on the keys, almost as if they were dropping onto the keyboard from a lower height. The resulting sound effect reminded him of certain segments in Mozart’s sonatas.

He wasn’t sure if this was due to muscle memory left behind by the instrument’s previous owner. In any case, combining this with his own wrist technique, the effect was rather interesting: gentle, yet retaining a distinct clarity.

Unfortunately, Li An didn’t have a clear perspective from which to analyze this phenomenon. Whenever this happened, he’d fantasize about a devoted teacher descending from the clouds, piano secrets in hand, to solve his mysteries.

Reality, however, was—

Knock knock knock.

At 3:55 p.m., there was a knock at the door.

Li An paused his fingers. “Come in.”

A chubby boy with glasses pushed the door open, bursting with enthusiasm, “Teacher, I’m here!”

From the sound of it, the child must have missed his teacher dearly.

“Come in and take a seat.”

Li An stood, stretched his shoulders, and asked, “How many times did you practice at home this week?”

“Teacher, you have no idea how much homework we had at school this week,” Liu Fengrui complained before even settling into his seat. “I have to write until eleven every night.”

Li An sighed. Compared to his own elementary school days, life was easier then; there was no pressure to advance academically. Unlike today’s children, who start fighting tooth and nail in the transition from primary to middle school.

Especially since Liu Fengrui attended one of Rongcheng’s most prestigious elementary schools.

“All right,” Li An comforted him, “however late you write, most people are writing just as late.”

“That’s not true,” Liu Fengrui muttered, “I actually finish earlier than most.”

Li An gave him a thumbs-up. “Then let’s begin, Liu—the student who finishes homework fastest.”

“Class time.”

Setting aside student-teacher statistics, Liu Fengrui was the most skilled and quickest-thinking of Li An’s three students.

In Li An’s opinion, if Liu Fengrui kept at it and put in some effort at home, he’d likely achieve something in a few years.

For this lesson, Li An gave a detailed technical explanation of Bach’s F minor Two-Part Invention No. 9, which Liu Fengrui would need to play for his summer level-five exam.

Technical lectures always seemed to fly by, since the teacher dominated most of the time.

Given that Liu Fengrui probably wouldn’t practice much at home this week, Li An focused on analyzing the piece, helping him internalize its key points for next time.

Before dismissing the class, Li An made one last emphasis.

“Make sure the right-hand echo and the left hand match perfectly in measure sixteen.”

“This will be the focus of our next lesson.”

“Class dismissed.”

Since last month, Liu Fengrui had been coming to lessons on his own, and Li An always escorted him to the elevator.

“Hurry home, don’t wander. Ask your dad to send me a message when you arrive.”

Once the elevator doors closed, Li An texted Liu Fengrui’s father.

Teachers couldn’t afford to be careless these days.

On his way back to the office, Li An checked his system. With the two teaching points earned from Liu Fengrui’s lesson, he now had nine points in total.

One more, and he could unlock another beginner strategy.

He’d already decided—this time, it would be for Xiaobei... hmm... or Liu Fengrui.

“Where’s Chen Xuan?”

Returning to the office, Li An found Chen Xuan’s desk empty. He was about to enlist the trio’s help for a critical matter—he was short by 0.02 yuan.

Such an important matter, not one could be missing.

“If you don’t know, neither do we,” Xu Hongxin replied matter-of-factly. In the whole office, Li An and Chen Xuan were the closest.

Makes sense.

Two people are enough.

Li An waited for Xu Hongxin and Ma Tao to finish their game, then gently put forward his request.

Without a word, the two forwarded his Pinduoduo link to their private groups, and in no time, Li An was just 0.01 yuan short.

Victory was within sight!

After troubling them for nearly half an hour, the workday was almost over.

Li An glanced at his watch and said, “Breakfast is on me tomorrow.”

Xu Hongxin: “Brother An, you’re too generous. The braised pork bun combo from the convenience store downstairs will do.”

Ma Tao: “Shameless! Brother An, I’m dieting. Just a cup of soy milk for me.”

Li An: “Two cups.”

Xu Hongxin: “Brother An, you’re so magnanimous!”

The three laughed as they stepped into the elevator.

When it comes to work environment, Li An genuinely loved the atmosphere in the west-side office.

Xu Hongxin and Ma Tao always reminded him of his university dorm days.

To find colleagues and friends whose personalities matched even after entering society was truly rare.

“See you tomorrow.”

Leaving the office building, Li An waved goodbye and hurried to the ‘Blue Whale’ Western restaurant.

He’d eaten lunch early today, and teaching Liu Fengrui had left him famished.

Blue Whale had one great feature—eat before starting work.

...

At 10:30 p.m., Chen Xuan dragged her tired body back to her apartment.

She’d just taken off her clothes, ready for a shower, when her phone vibrated behind her.

It was a message alert.

She turned, took a few steps back to the bedroom, and picked up her phone.

It was a sweet voice message: “Xiaomi, are you home yet?”

“I’m home, I’m home, don’t worry. Good night.”

Chen Xuan’s tone carried a hint of disappointment. After replying, she tossed the phone aside and headed toward the bathroom.

But before she’d taken two steps, the phone vibrated again.

Two seconds later, her phone seemed to explode with a barrage of vibrations—

This time, she didn’t even turn her head, just marched straight into the bathroom. She could guess exactly what Sun Yuman was sending.

Sun Yuman, a native of Rongcheng.

She was Chen Xuan’s university classmate and bunkmate, a sworn friend.

When Chen Xuan first arrived in Rongcheng, it was Sun Yuman who helped her with everything, from renting a place to finding a job.

As Sun Yuman put it, the two were sisters separated for eighteen years.

Tonight, Chen Xuan had left work early just to meet Sun Yuman, thinking it was a private get-together.

Only to find another woman and a man—the woman was familiar enough, but the man was the young comic artist Sun Yuman had been mentioning constantly.

She’d made it clear to Sun Yuman that she wasn’t interested in dating right now.

So tonight, she was quite unhappy. Sun Yuman knew her temperament.

But for the sake of her friend, she forced herself to spend the evening glued to her phone.

After her shower, Chen Xuan got back in bed and picked up her phone again.

At the top of her message list, there were two new chats.

Chen Xuan tapped the lower avatar.

Eight Thousand One: “Are you asleep?”

Half a minute later.

Leaf: “No, what’s up?”

Normally, she’d reply with, “Do you think everyone sleeps as early as you?”

But tonight, she was in a bad mood.

Two seconds later.

Eight Thousand One: “Quick, see if you can help me cut the price again.”

A link followed.

Chen Xuan: ......

A moment passed.

She stifled a laugh.