The Two Titans of the Piano Teaching Department

I’m still two points short myself!

Somehow, her mood lightened a little. Chen Xuan tapped open the message from Sun Yuman.

A string of voice messages.

“Don’t be angry, okay?”
“It won’t happen again, I promise.”
“Come on, Xiaomi, let me treat you to dinner tomorrow night, how about that?”
“If you don’t reply, I’ll take it as a yes.”
“So, you’re not mad anymore, right?”
“Mwah!”

Chen Xuan hadn’t been angry to begin with, and now she was even less so.

A sudden smile touched her lips. She forwarded the link Li An had sent her.

Yezi: I’m not mad, so dinner isn’t necessary. Help me take care of this.

On the other side of Rong City.

After messaging Chen Xuan, Li An went on to pester Wang Meili and Lin Pengfei.

Just one or two more tries!

He finally understood the addictive charm of this little game, but in the end, he drifted off to sleep with the regret of being one cent short.

By the time he went to bed, he had no expectations left, since the deadline for claiming the red envelope was six thirty the next morning.

But when he woke up, he found the hundred yuan had arrived.

He had a hunch it might have been Lin Pengfei, repaying a favor.

In any case, it was a new week, off to a perfect start.

“If you don’t pee for three more days, I’ll buy you sausage.”

Eight Thousand stretched out his front paw in a lazy yawn, then leaped from the bedside to the windowsill to bask in the sun.

Bathed in the warm morning light, Li An boarded the bus behind a group of elderly men and women.

Beep—

Today he’d set out thirty minutes early, and stopped at the shop downstairs from work to buy four sets of soy-braised pork buns.

Each set included a tea egg, a cup of soy milk, and a big pork bun.

Xu Hongxin loved tea eggs, so Li An added an extra one for him.

Chen Xuan didn’t like meat, so he swapped her pork bun for a shrimp and egg bun.

Ma Tao’s diet was all talk, so now the pork bun from Chen Xuan’s set became Ma Tao’s.

“Mr. Li, that’s twenty-six yuan,” the cashier said with a sweet smile.

Li An scanned the code and paid. “Thank you.”

The elevator stopped at the ninth floor. He stepped out with his left foot, the small echo of his footsteps trailing down the corridor.

Every Monday, Li An was always the first to arrive at Yudong.

Passing the front desk, he left a breakfast portion under the counter for the receptionist.

Back in the office, he placed the other three breakfasts on each colleague’s desk.

He swept the floor, mopped the entrance, wiped the windowsill of Piano Room 3. Time slipped by unnoticed.

“Li, cleaning again?”

Li An was wringing out the mop in the public restroom when a well-dressed middle-aged woman appeared at his side, holding a cucumber.

Her name was Huang Juan, his direct supervisor and head of the piano faculty at Yudong.

Eight years at the job, a strong teacher, trusted by parents, and currently overseeing nearly a quarter of all piano students at Yudong.

Her reputation within the company was average—she wasn’t harsh with younger teachers, but she liked to put on airs and enjoyed flattery.

“Just keeping busy,” Li An replied modestly, turning off the tap with a smile.

He glanced at the cucumber. “No wonder you’re so slim, Group Leader Huang, eating just this every morning.”

Huang Juan knew she was at best not overweight; calling her slim was a stretch. Still, she liked the compliment, and her tone softened. “How’s Yu Xiaobei doing lately? Communication with her mother going well?”

Li An had only found out about the issue with Xiaobei’s mother later. When Xiaobei had to change teachers, the others all found her mother troublesome, so the girl ended up with him.

But Li An didn’t mind. “It’s going well. Next week, Xiaobei will start practicing a Kuhlau sonatina for her exam.”

Huang Juan’s voice was tinged with doubt. “Why choose that one?”

The Kuhlau sonatina was one of the longer pieces in the level three repertoire—not the most suitable for the exam. Especially for this child.

Because of Xiaobei’s mother, Huang Juan paid special attention to her as a group leader. She knew Xiaobei was a slow learner.

Li An agreed with that, but after a few lessons, he’d also noticed Xiaobei’s strength—her memory.

“She memorizes music quickly,” Li An explained. “I’ve already discussed it with her mother. They’ll add extra lessons during the holidays. There’s still over a month before the exam, so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

Seeing Li An so confident, Huang Juan didn’t press further. She trusted him and just reminded, “Just keep an eye on her.”

Li An knew what she meant. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it.”

Truth be told, Li An owed Huang Juan a debt of gratitude. When he came for his interview, a female teacher had just left due to pregnancy, but Old Dong was reluctant to hire him—he wasn’t local and had no work experience. In the end, it was Huang Juan, after hearing his demo lesson, who insisted he stay.

By then, they’d reached the door of the east office. This time, Huang Juan said nothing. Li An lifted the mop and followed her in to clean the floor, just as he did last week.

As the clock ticked closer to the start of the workday, the teachers of the east office arrived one after another.

Most greeted Li An warmly as they saw him busy at work.

Just as he finished mopping, a sharp-looking male teacher stepped through the door.

Tian Yu, thirty-four, a graduate from a top domestic conservatory, strong in his field.

In less than three years, he’d outpaced other piano teachers to become the second-in-command of the piano faculty at Yudong, with only six fewer students than Huang Juan.

He didn’t get along with her.

“Thanks for your hard work, Mr. Li,” Tian Yu greeted him.

“Good morning, Mr. Tian.” Li An shook out the mop with a smile. “Careful, the floor’s slippery.”

With that, he stepped aside and slipped out past Tian Yu.

Ever since Li An learned that Tian Yu had called Liu Fengrui’s father behind his back, the man was as good as dead to him at Yudong.

Liu Fengrui, like Xiaobei and Wang Xiaohu, had also been a student of the pregnant teacher.

The group had initially assigned Liu Fengrui to Tian Yu, but because Tian Yu’s schedule was full, the boy’s lessons were delayed half a month.

It just so happened that Li An came job-hunting at that time, and Huang Juan gave him the student.

By all rights, Huang Juan had done nothing wrong.

But when Tian Yu later freed up his schedule, he privately reached out to Liu Fengrui’s father to say he could now take the boy.

Tian Yu already knew Liu Fengrui was taking lessons with Li An, but he still went ahead.

Liu Fengrui’s father never mentioned it to Li An; it was Liu himself who told Li An about it during a break.

That sort of person was best kept at arm’s length.

One patron was enough.

When Li An returned to the office, the others were already eating breakfast.

“Thanks, Brother An.”

Xu Hongxin raised his egg in greeting. “Where’ve you been? Did Old Huang have you cleaning again?”

Ma Tao, seeing this, spoke up for Li An. “An, you shouldn’t always do whatever they ask. You’re just spoiling them.”

Li An smiled and let it pass. Ma Tao still had that laid-back college attitude—focused only on his own affairs, not caring about anything else.

When you’ve just entered the workforce, especially as a young person, a little diligence won’t hurt you.

At his desk, Li An’s eyes met Chen Xuan’s.

He couldn’t say who looked up first.

All he knew was, their eyes met—just like that.