78. The Truth
There were still a few parents and students waiting in the eastern teaching area. Passing through the main hall, Li An heard the notes of a Kuhlau sonatina drifting through the air. His steps quickened as he headed toward the classroom. Pushing open the door, he saw Little Bei sitting at the piano. Beside her, Wang Panpan had already stood up.
“Senior,” Wang Panpan greeted.
“Teacher!” called the little one at the same time.
Li An crouched down in front of Little Bei, smiling. “Well, were you nervous during the exam? Tell me.”
Little Bei grinned, showing her teeth. “I wasn’t nervous at all, and I didn’t make any mistakes.”
Seeing that Little Bei was perfectly fine, Li An relaxed. He patted her head encouragingly. “Excellent. Are you hungry?”
Little Bei nodded. “A little.”
Li An stood, about to fetch some bread from the cupboard, but Chen Xuan had already taken out a beautifully packaged bag of cookies from her purse.
“Go ahead,” she murmured softly as she passed by Li An, then handed the cookies to Little Bei with gentle care. “Here, have some cookies.”
Seeing this, Li An turned and left.
...
On the west side, the office door swung open. Seeing Li An return, Old Dong rose, making no move to linger.
“Mr. Li, listen to Little Bei play again later, see if there are any issues.”
With that, he smiled and departed.
Little Bei’s mother, a bit embarrassed, put down the evaluation form. In truth, after reading Little Bei’s exam comments, her feelings had already settled. She had been about to take Little Bei and leave when Old Dong told her that Mr. Li would arrive shortly.
So she waited here, just as well since she had something she wanted to clarify with Li An. She had planned to speak to him after the grading was over.
“Mr. Li.”
“Please, have a seat,” Li An said, motioning for her not to stand as he took Wang Panpan’s seat. “I’ve already heard about the situation from Ms. Wang.”
“Here’s what I’ll do: I’ll personally give Little Bei two extra lessons, and I won’t deduct them from her class hours.”
Little Bei’s mother waved her hand. “That’s not necessary…”
Li An interrupted her. “Let me explain. Recent graduates often don’t know much; I’ve already given her a stern talking to. There’s no need to be offended.”
“These two lessons are simply a little token of fate between teacher and student.”
“Please, go on.”
After a moment, Little Bei’s mother spoke. “Thank you for your kindness, Mr. Li. I didn’t intend to make a fuss over Ms. Wang. We spoke twice on the phone, and I could tell she’s responsible. It’s just a difference in perspective. It’s you who teaches the class, so as long as we’re in sync, that’s all that matters, isn’t it?”
Though her voice was gentle, Li An felt a vague sense of foreboding.
“Mr. Li, do you support Little Bei taking the music exams?”
“Yes,” Li An replied.
She asked again, “Do you think Little Bei has musical talent?”
Li An hesitated.
Little Bei’s mother smiled. “I’m a teacher too.”
Li An was surprised. “You are?”
She nodded. “So I understand students, especially my own child.” She paused. “Little Bei doesn’t have musical talent.”
“I think you must be even more aware of this than I am.”
Faced with Little Bei’s mother’s candor, Li An found himself at a loss for words. He wanted to defend Little Bei, but on what grounds?
She was right.
...Little Bei had no musical gift.
He had reached this conclusion the first time he taught her. But as the teacher-student index appeared, he began to pay more attention to her and gradually discovered her shining qualities: seriousness, obedience, diligence, perseverance.
Most precious of all, he could feel that Little Bei genuinely loved playing the piano, purely and without a trace of ulterior motive. It was as if, the moment she sat before the keys and pressed down, joy blossomed from within her.
So he wanted this child to always be happy. Was the purpose of learning music truly to achieve something?
“My husband is a teacher too. He teaches art at the university.”
Li An was stunned as she dropped another revelation.
With a university art teacher at home, how could they not understand the realities behind art exams? Why send their child here, then?
“My husband and I were high school classmates. I was with him through the art exam process.”
Li An: ...
“You must be curious why we sent Little Bei here.”
He truly didn’t understand.
“It’s because of her nature.” Little Bei’s mother shook her head. “She’s been introverted since she was little—perhaps because of moving to a new place. Once we relocated, she became even less willing to go out, stopped interacting with others. We tried many approaches, but nothing worked until one day she saw a piano on TV and told us she wanted to learn.”
“So we seized this opportunity and brought her here.”
Li An nodded. So that was it.
“It takes Little Bei two lessons to learn what other children grasp in one, sometimes even three.”
“We realized then that she had no innate gift for music.”
“But it doesn’t matter. Through piano lessons, we saw changes in her. She started going out, began to talk more.”
“At that point, I felt that whether she succeeded or not, I’d support her learning.”
Li An frowned. “Did your feelings change later?”
“No,” she replied. “But Little Bei starts middle school next year. She must get into Provincial Experimental.”
She sighed. “Some things only parents can understand.”
“I’m not sure how much longer she can continue—maybe a little while after starting middle school, but she can’t go on forever.”
“That’s why I hope, in the limited time she has with the piano, to leave her with some record of it. So that, when she’s grown and looks back, she’ll have memories of this childhood experience.”
“Some parents think studying music is to cultivate artistic temperament. I won’t deny it has some effect. But does artistic temperament really require only music?”
In the end, Little Bei’s mother looked at Li An earnestly.
“It’s not easy to find a good teacher, and even harder to find the right one. I hope you can be the one to see Little Bei through her piano journey. Is that all right?”
“Mr. Li.”
After a long while, Li An finally spoke.
....
....
At eight-thirty in the evening, Li An finished Little Bei’s lesson. It was a class originally scheduled for the next morning.
That day, instead of knocking to signal the end of the lesson, he walked out of the classroom side by side with Little Bei.
In the corridor, their shadows stretched side by side, and for a moment, Li An felt as if Little Bei had grown into a big girl.
“Teacher, now that the exam is over, can I start playing those two red-covered books?” Little Bei asked.
Li An smiled. “I talked with your mother. From next lesson on, we’ll begin!”
Little Bei could hardly believe it, waving her little fists excitedly.
As soon as they entered the lobby, she rushed over to her mother and asked eagerly, “Mom, teacher said I can start the red books next class—is it true?”
Her mother smiled and wiped the sweat from her brow. “Of course. Whatever teacher says, that’s what you’ll do.”
“Yeah!”
A little later, Li An escorted mother and daughter to the elevator. Through the closing doors, Little Bei’s mother gave him one last grateful look.
“Goodbye, teacher!”
“Goodbye, Little Bei!”
With a soft click, the elevator doors closed.
Li An let out a long breath.
Whether reconciled or not, he was only an ordinary piano teacher.
No matter how much he cared for this child, he was still only an ordinary piano teacher.
Doctors cannot heal the unhealable; the Buddha saves only those with affinity.
He had done all he could for Little Bei as her teacher.
Perhaps next year, Little Bei would stop.
Perhaps next year, he himself would no longer be at Yudong.
This bond between teacher and student would, in the end, reach its conclusion in some way.
Thinking of this, Li An felt he was becoming more sentimental lately. Perhaps he had truly absorbed someone else’s temperament.
He shook his head, about to return to the office, when suddenly a line of small words floated before his eyes.
[Teacher-student affinity with Yu Xiaobei has increased to 86]