Chapter 69 Part 3

Though not young, Professor Lin was well-maintained, every move exuding scholarly grace—like Jiangnan spring waters over bluestone, undiminished in elegance.

And crucially, he was super nice.

Gu Yuan glanced at the admiration on Zhou Chiyu’s face and said softly, “Little Fish, I’ll go with you.”

“It’s fine if you can, but I’m not sure about tickets. Professor said it’s super popular.”

Gu Yuan focused on the road. “No worries. I’ll figure it out.”

For three straight days, Zhou Chiyu went to Professor Lin’s after class. The professor selected three songs for him, including one called Trust Me for the auditions.

When Chen Qixuan learned Zhou Chiyu had hired a Music Academy professor, he joked exaggeratedly, “Not bad for the Eldest Young Master. That prof must cost a fortune.”

Zhou Chiyu munched a meat bun. “Teacher didn’t charge me.”

Chen Qixuan raised a brow, unsurprised by the professor’s “generosity.”

Networking with someone like Zhou Chiyu was valuable; for a professor, it was a fair trade.

“You’re way too diligent.” Bai Zhiqi teased. “Most fear a rich young master who’s ambitious too. Why not spend on votes? Lessons every night must be exhausting.”

Zhou Chiyu disagreed. Paying for votes felt cheap and unearned.

Plus, he wanted to learn a new skill. He was picking up guitar from Professor Lin and planned to play for Gu Yuan after mastering it.

After a couple bites, Zhou Chiyu cabbed to Professor Lin’s.

It was Friday, and Gu Yuan’s project kept him tied up, so he went alone.

Bai Zhiqi watched his back and griped to the roommates, “Only three finalist spots per department. With Little Fish’s effort, he should make it. You think he’s in it for the scholarship?”

“Of course not.”

Chen Qixuan knew Bai Zhiqi loved music and had signed up too, so he reassured, “Don’t stress. Your opponent might not be the young master.”

Top three in the department got 2000 yuan and Bluetooth earphones. Bai Zhiqi had been confident, but now he felt uneasy. “So jealous of the well-off. They get Central Conservatory of Music teachers personally.”

Chen Qixuan patted his shoulder sympathetically. “No worries. We’ve got talent.”

—

November rain carried a biting chill, seeping into one’s bones.

Zhou Chiyu wrapped his scarf tight and jogged to Professor Lin’s door.

Gu Yuan had insisted on the driver bringing him for company, but the driver’s child had sudden pneumonia. Not wanting to bother Butler Chen further, he came alone.

He was not a kid; he could handle a lesson by himself.

Professor Lin opened the door and frowned at Zhou Chiyu’s shivers. “How’d you get so cold?”

Zhou Chiyu smiled, shaking off the damp at the entrance. “Sudden cold snap. I’m sensitive to it.”

“Come in quick.”

Professor Lin shrugged off his wool sweater and draped it over Zhou Chiyu, leading him to the sofa to warm up. “Want some hot water?”

“Thanks, Teacher.”

Zhou Chiyu’s nose tip reddened, his clear eyes misted—like a drenched puppy begging for a hug.

Professor Lin fetched a dry towel, gazing at him steadily. “Need help drying your hair?”

“No thanks.”

Zhou Chiyu gulped hot water and roughly toweled his hair. “Professor, let’s start the lesson.”

Professor Lin tilted his head, his scent of cedar and lime mingling around him. “You look like a little lion.”

Zhou Chiyu flushed, fixing his messy hair. “That exaggerated?”

Professor Lin draped the cashmere blanket from the sofa over Zhou Chiyu’s legs, his touch gentle as stroking a fine piano. “Just teasing. Not much today—rest first.”

This relaxed pace was perfect for Zhou Chiyu. Professor Lin’s lessons packed few points per session but advanced his skills rapidly.

“Eaten yet?” Professor Lin checked his wristwatch. “If not, shall I order food?”

“A bit hungry.”

But Zhou Chiyu felt awkward. Learning for free was imposition enough; eating at the teacher’s too?

“I’ll eat at home after.”

Professor Lin leaned to pour water, his light brown curls falling over his forehead, movements graceful. “No need to stand on ceremony. The restaurant’s great—my friend’s place. No delivery usually.”

Zhou Chiyu said “oh” and surrendered to hunger. “Thanks, Teacher.”

Food arrived an hour later. Today focused on pitch correction. They skipped the practice room, chatting on the rug like friends while practicing.

Zhou Chiyu started chilly, but the thick wool sweater and blanket warmed him. His cheeks flushed, palms heating as he sang.

The food was indeed tasty. Zhou Chiyu promised to invite Professor Lin to his performance someday.

Professor Lin picked him a glutinous rice rib, eyes deep with amusement behind his glasses.

Then the doorbell rang.

Professor Lin answered to find Gu Yuan outside.

“Young Master Gu.”

Professor Lin gestured him in. “Here for your brother?”

“Mm.” Gu Yuan had learned the driver was not with Zhou Chiyu and rushed over after finishing his tasks.

He did not even know why he worried so much about Zhou Chiyu alone at Professor Lin’s. The professor was a friend of his advisor—not a bad guy.

“Little Fish is eating. Join him?”

“No, wouldn’t trouble you.”

Gu Yuan entered the living room and immediately spotted that familiar figure.

Zhou Chiyu curled up in the chair, his cheeks puffed out full like a gluttonous kitten, his eyes sparkling as if studded with stars, the whole of him radiating satisfaction and contentment.

“Sorry, my little brother taking lessons here has already been enough trouble for you, and now we’ve made you handle his dinner too.”

Gu Yuan’s gaze fell on the sweater Zhou Chiyu had rolled up to his elbows, and his expression slowly cooled.

This sweater must be Professor Lin’s.

“We’ll head out first.”

He avoided the light from the living room, fixing his stare on Professor Lin, his eyelashes casting sharp shadows beneath his eyes.