98. A Promising Future, with a Fresh New Idea

A six-and-a-half-minute flute rehearsal video arrived.

Li An put on his headphones and listened carefully.

Compared to yesterday, today’s rehearsal showed clear progress.

Although the accompaniment parts still needed strengthening, the entire melody section was noticeably clearer.

However, after some further discussion, he realized that Chen Xuan might still be stuck in a state of assumption.

Chen Xuan believed they could simply continue collective rehearsals at this pace.

Li An, on the other hand, held a different view. He thought it was crucial to isolate each part for individual practice at this stage.

If they persisted with group rehearsals like this, he predicted their progress would stall within three days.

Just like rehearsing a piano ensemble, perfecting each part is essential for a successful collaboration.

This principle is an unshakable rule in any rehearsal context.

Li An understood Chen Xuan’s mindset; she must have been well aware of this too.

Chen Xuan had once said she was the principal flutist of the student symphony orchestra for two years during university.

Naturally, she had amassed extensive experience in wind instrument rehearsals, which likely led to a preconceived notion—her method had to be the right one.

It was only human; he could understand that.

But in this process, she overlooked the most important point.

They started from different places.

Chen Xuan failed to realize her starting point had been far too advanced.

The rehearsals now were a completely different matter from those in her university days.

How could a handful of children still at the graded exam stage compare to those elite art students who had emerged from countless contenders?

Ninety-nine percent of these children lacked the ability to identify and resolve problems on their own.

He wanted to suggest that Chen Xuan pull out the accompaniment parts for separate practice.

Because the accompaniment sections he had focused on yesterday showed almost no improvement in today’s video, indicating the children’s solo practice was ineffective.

At this point, a teacher’s individual guidance was necessary.

Not just a few words during rehearsal, but dedicated explanations akin to coaching for graded pieces.

But how could he say this?

From Bach to Mozart, from fugues to “Spring Has Come,” they seemed perfectly in sync, yet conflicts always arose over how to approach the music.

He knew Chen Xuan had high standards, so he felt it was inappropriate to advise her rashly.

On such issues, even if the other person were his wife, he couldn’t be too direct.

Though he was helping with the rehearsal, at most he was just giving feedback; the actual implementation still depended on individuals.

It was like if Chen Xuan suddenly told him, “Your piece should be rehearsed this way,” he probably wouldn’t accept it immediately.

Even if she were his wife... well... even if she were his wife...

No, still no!

That’s just how firm he was.

After some thought, Li An sent Chen Xuan the first and last takes of today’s piano rehearsal video, but in reverse order.

Message: “Chen, if you have a moment, could you give me some pointers? :D”

As the bus came to a stop, Li An put away his headphones and stood up.

A stream of red text appeared before his eyes:

[Teaching Point +1 from Zheng Bowen]

So that’s how it is.

He squinted thoughtfully, a grin spreading across his face as he got off the bus.

During the afternoon rehearsal, he had noticed that even students not on the potential candidate list could still provide him with teaching points.

At the time, he had considered the possibility that teaching points could be earned without face-to-face instruction.

Now it seemed that was indeed possible.

The video he had just recorded contained a spoken explanation, and besides the video, there was also a written commentary.

Probably, Zheng Bowen had gained something from watching either the video or the text explanation, triggering the teaching point.

During the intermission, he took out his phone to review his chat history with Ji Yang, trying to confirm this discovery further.

It turned out he hadn’t really taught Ji Yang anything beyond urging him to practice, nor had he recorded demonstration videos.

That explained why no teaching points had appeared remotely during the time with Ji Yang.

Wait.

He suddenly recalled that the first time he visited Ji Yang’s home, the latter had recorded a performance of the Black Key Exercise.

But that was just a performance, with no explanation.

Hmm—

Li An had roughly grasped how to earn teaching points without direct instruction.

Either through written explanations or videos with commentary.

Or maybe both?

Countless ideas bubbled up in his mind.

What if he recorded a full piano online course... if enough people watched it...

What if he published a book on piano pedagogy... if enough people studied from it...

In an instant, he envisioned countless teaching points floating before his eyes.

With the unlocking of advanced student strategies and the introduction of orchestration methods, he had already noticed that teaching points were becoming increasingly versatile.

Li An had no doubt that one day in the future, a scene like this would unfold:

He would receive a ridiculously advanced cookbook as a reward for reaching level 107, but mastering one dish would require spending 1,000 teaching points.

He had every reason to believe teaching points would play a vital role going forward.

“An Ge, here’s the iced water you asked for.”

A waiter appeared by Li An’s side, placing a tall glass from his tray in front of him.

The presentation made the glass seem like it contained some fine vintage wine.

“Wait a moment, Xiao Liang.”

Li An called after the waiter, who turned back.

Li An asked with concern, “How’s your guitar practice going lately?”

About a month ago, Xiao Liang had asked Li An for guitar lessons. Since Xiao Liang was reluctant to spend money on a teacher, Li An hadn’t offered much advice.

Later, Xiao Liang said he found a set of free tutorial videos on Bilibili and bought a guitar.

“Pretty good,” Xiao Liang grinned, “I can play ‘Sunny Day’ now.”

Li An gave him a thumbs-up. “Impressive.”

Xiao Liang smiled shyly at the compliment.

Then Li An shifted the conversation. “Do you find learning online difficult?”

“Not really,” Xiao Liang pondered, “I think it mainly depends on the teacher. There are many online courses, and I compared several before choosing this teacher’s videos.”

“I started from scratch with his lessons, and now I can play simple pieces, albeit slowly.”

Li An nodded and encouraged him again. “That’s already very good. Keep it up.”

“Thanks, An Ge.”

—

After the second half ended, Li An left Blue Whale under Song Sheng’s watchful eye.

On the way home, he received a message from Chen Xuan.

She said the first video’s outcome was clearly better than the second.

Li An smiled, thinking that was to be expected, and didn’t say much else.

His octet and Chen Xuan’s octet were now roughly on the same level.

He planned to compare their rehearsal footage in two days, letting Chen Xuan see the differences herself.

Heh.

—

Back home, Li An opened his computer and browsed Bilibili for a while before closing it in frustration.

He had looked through various music tutorial videos.

Setting aside style and content...

Just considering the competitiveness.

He knew what competition was.

But he hadn’t expected it to be this intense.

There were all sorts of video styles and teaching approaches.

Among them were some highly skilled individuals with very few followers and little viewer engagement.

There were also all kinds of tricksters masquerading as teachers, selling false promises.

In short, there was nothing he hadn’t seen, only what he hadn’t imagined.

No wonder many friends and classmates involved in this field had complained about its difficulty.

Still, he couldn’t deny it was a promising avenue, especially after seeing the barrage of comments on videos with hundreds of thousands of views.

If those views translated into teaching points at a certain ratio, how many would that be?

He would take it step by step, beginning by exploring and familiarizing himself.

Who knew what the future might hold?

He placed an order for lipstick on Taobao, said goodnight to Chen Xuan, and went to sleep.

He was utterly exhausted today.