94. Gamble
A moment later, Qin Yong's smile faded as he asked Director Dong a question with gravity, “Director Dong, what do you think of Li An as a person?”
Director Dong pondered before answering, “His work ability is unquestionable, he’s an excellent employee.”
Qin Yong shook his head, “I’m asking about him as a person.”
Director Dong considered again, “He’s a good man, I quite admire him.”
“Then I’ll hand all of Tian Yu’s students over to him.”
Qin Yong leaned back in his executive chair, gazing at Director Dong’s thoughtful expression from this angle, reminiscent of a genial Buddha.
“What do you think? Is that feasible?”
Director Dong, to be honest, felt it was somewhat inappropriate, “All of them—wouldn’t that be too many?”
“How many students do you think is suitable for him this time?” Qin Yong pressed.
Director Dong had calculated—after a month of communication with the parents of Tian Yu’s students, he was confident at least thirteen of them would survive this ordeal.
These thirteen children needed to be reassigned, since Huang Juan couldn’t take on any more, so the remaining three teachers would share them.
Divided evenly, each teacher should receive four.
“Five,” Director Dong thought Li An deserved an extra student.
“Five,” Qin Yong repeated, his gaze narrowing, and then he moved his lips, “I’ll give him eight.”
Director Dong was surprised, “You mean the eight children participating in the rehearsal?”
Tian Yu had already helped select the best, so Qin Yong had no reason to hold back.
Director Dong hesitated, “But two of these children might not stay.”
Qin Yong smiled, “That depends on Li An’s ability.”
“All right, Director Dong, go about your business. This afternoon, pay attention to what Li An says to the students. As for the issue of switching Tian Yu’s students to a new teacher, communicate slowly with the parents, don’t rush. We can offer a couple of extra lessons as compensation if needed, but avoid making promises unless absolutely necessary.”
Director Dong accepted the instructions and left.
—
He had extended the olive branch.
Qin Yong rose and walked to the window, looking outside.
After more than a month of observation, Li An hadn’t quite met his original expectations.
It wasn’t that Li An’s performance was lacking; on the contrary, Li An had exceeded his expectations in every aspect of work.
It was just that he was too silent, and too diligent.
Lately, Li An’s practice of the Czerny 299 reminded Qin Yong of a roommate from his student days in Germany.
Sometimes, Qin Yong even wondered if Li An came to Yudong merely to find a place that provided meals, quietly gathering strength.
Why gather strength, Qin Yong didn’t know.
But he had a premonition—Li An wouldn’t stay at Yudong forever.
—
Previously, he worried Li An might leave Rong City and return home. At the time, he thought Rong City, a major second-tier city, with Blue Sky as the leader in music education, ought to retain him.
Now, he wondered if this reputation meant anything to Li An.
Sigh.
A long exhale as Qin Yong rubbed his brow.
He was torn. Even when he decided to entrust Tian Yu’s best students to Li An, he felt conflicted.
As work progressed, after the concert and assessment, his next step would be to build his own team of teachers.
This team would follow him in the next two years as he campaigned across Yudong’s various primary and middle schools.
Could Li An serve as the core pillar of his piano group?
He had no answer.
He needed steadfast strength, not a ticking time bomb.
But right now, he had no better choice.
Tian Yu had to leave at this juncture.
And someone with both ability and character must take Tian Yu’s place.
He had extended the olive branch.
From now on, he would wait for a response.
Just then, the sound of Czerny 299 echoed from the hallway.
—
Classroom 4.
Cheerful phrases darted through the bright melody, like a playful child running across endless wheat fields.
The piano reflected the heart.
It was refreshing.
Music was perhaps the best portrait of the performer’s mood at this moment.
Li An hadn’t expected Qin Yong’s next move to come so quickly.
To have him take over Tian Yu’s upcoming rehearsals—that was something he hadn’t anticipated.
He thought for sure it would be Huang Juan.
Now he could make a bold wager.
Tian Yu was about to be ousted.
His bet was a strenuous effort.
If he lost, so be it—he would simply help pave the way for another.
If he won, he would become a premium teacher with eight students.
He would accept it gladly.
—
At exactly two in the afternoon, Li An escorted Chen Xuan to the door of the flute rehearsal classroom and apologized, “I’ll come find you once I’m finished here.”
His plan to assist with her rehearsal had to be canceled.
—
“Take care of your own matters,” Chen Xuan replied with an understanding smile. “I’ll record a video for you.”
Mentioning the video, Li An nodded awkwardly, “Good luck.”
Chen Xuan turned to push the door open. Inside, Chen Zitong seemed to have been caught eavesdropping, her little face flustered as she greeted Chen Xuan.
She then skipped Chen Xuan and looked outside at Li An, immediately switching to a mischievous grin, “Teacher Li, aren’t you coming in?”
Li An smiled coldly and strode away.
Liu Fengrui, just wait.
—
To prepare in advance, Li An arrived forty minutes early at Tian Yu’s classroom.
He pushed the door open, and as expected, it felt different.
Four black pianos lined up in a row, exuding a sense of grandeur.
Li An walked over to the teacher’s piano, picked up the full piano score of “My Homeland” from the music stand, and sat down to review it.
Upon reading through, the difficulty wasn’t high—the key lay in the coordination between the parts.
From what he’d heard outside the door yesterday, the kids sounded decent, but he’d need to finish today’s rehearsal to judge each one’s situation.
About ten minutes later, the classroom door was gently pushed open.
A little boy in a yellow cartoon tracksuit entered, meeting Li An’s gentle gaze and walking in timidly.
“Hel…hello, teacher.”
“Hello. What’s your name?”
“I’m Chi Yu.”
“Chi Yu, how many parts do you play?”
“Three parts.”
Chi Yu took a sheet of music from his plastic bag and sat at the second piano, eyes fixed nervously on the music stand.
He looked like a well-behaved child.
Li An smiled and stepped back a bit, “Practice on your own for a while.”
Outside, Director Dong finished negotiating with Chi Yu’s parent. Hearing the piano, Chi Yu’s father peeked through the glass in the doorframe, just as Li An looked over.
Their eyes met. Li An smiled and nodded at him through the glass.
This was the teacher he’d seen on stage last time. He responded with a smile.
—
The children arrived one after another, each curious about Li An’s presence in the classroom.
Some recognized Li An and greeted him.
The bolder ones asked directly where Teacher Tian was.
“Teacher Tian is sick,” Li An said with genuine regret.