121. A Crawfish Review: A Revolution? And Bells!?

Of course, of course. The stage appearance is just a small side act with Wang Xiaohu.

In the evening, Little Ji received praise from Li An.

"Hehe."
"Thank you, teacher."

Ever since she was criticized last time, she could feel a significant change in her state of mind over this recent period. The shift from "I really want to play well" to "I must play well" made her practice much more efficient. Furthermore, with Li An there to provide full guidance, the progress was clear.

After a week, the most intuitive change was that her right hand's bridge, during the performance of the Etude on Black Keys, could now remain stable and undeformed even during fast runs.

"You can take a break tomorrow."

Balancing work and rest is the only way to sustain good practice habits. Based on Ji Yang's routine, Li An suggested she do some outdoor activities tomorrow, go for a walk, and stay away from the piano. Give her brain and body some time to digest.

"Come, have some fruit."

Ji Yang got up and sat next to Li An, picked up a toothpick, speared a small piece of watermelon from the fruit platter, fed it into her mouth, and crunched it down.

"Teacher, how many hours a day did you practice on average in the six months before your art entrance exam?"
"It varied, depending on my state. On average, about ten hours a day."
"Ten hours!"

Ji Yang opened her mouth wide, the melon juice almost spilling out. "Doesn't that mean that besides eating, sleeping, and going to the bathroom, you spent almost all your time practicing?"

Li An recalled, "Sometimes my fingers would move even in my dreams. It felt like the music I practiced during the day was playing right in my ears. Then, when I would kick my foot to press the pedal, I’d wake up."

The look in Ji Yang's eyes as she watched Li An was no longer just admiration. "Teacher, you were too intense."

Li An smiled, a touch of melancholy seeping into his tone. "What else could I do?"

What the art entrance exam meant to a single-income family in an obscure, small county town was something a child from a background like Ji Yang's would never fully understand.

"Back then, I only thought about one thing: practicing. As long as I knew I could still practice that day, I wouldn't do anything else."

There is no rule stating that children from poor families cannot pursue art. With that stubborn, never-say-die spirit deep in his bones, he eventually received the admission letter for the piano performance major at the conservatory as he had hoped. Back then, he didn't know about all the under-the-table complexities behind the art exams. Looking back now, he felt he was still lucky.

The original owner of this body was the same; both of them had risked everything for their artistic dreams before the entrance exams.

Ji Yang was deeply moved. "Teacher, I don't want to rest tomorrow."

Li An roughly guessed what Little Ji was thinking and corrected her: "Practicing the piano isn't measured purely by time. It doesn't mean that the longer you practice, the better the results. It varies from person to person."

He told her a little story about the original owner: "The year I took my exam, the top student in my major was a girl from the South. She only practiced three hours a day. You would never see her stuck in the practice room all day, but by the time we graduated, she was still the top of our class."

"Wow." Ji Yang exclaimed, "That's so cool. What is she doing now? Did she go to graduate school?"
"She went to Vienna right after graduating."

Li An cut to the point: "She is a classic example of someone who has her own method of practicing. Practicing is a matter of method and efficiency."

He actually didn't advocate for the "time-war" tactic. If he could do it all over again, he would never have practiced that way during the exam phase. He would have spent more time contemplating the music instead of mindlessly repeating notes on the keyboard. Notes are just one component of music; music should not be a mechanical exercise.

"Ji Yang, you are smart and willing to put in the effort. I hope you will reflect and summarize more in your future practice. It will benefit you for a lifetime."

Ji Yang nodded earnestly: "Thank you, teacher. I will remember: summarize more, think more."

Li An sighed with satisfaction. As he stood up, the [Ji Yang Student-Teacher Index increased to 93].

The index, which hadn't budged for a long time, had moved again today. With only 7 points left to reach the 100-mark milestone, Li An felt a sense of anticipation.

"Teacher, can I ask you a question?" Ji Yang asked on the way downstairs.
"Ask."
"Why didn't you go abroad after you graduated?"
Li An: "No money."
Ji Yang: ...

She had thought there might be some dramatic story, but it turned out to be just a financial issue.

"Then, teacher, do you still want to go abroad now?"
Li An smiled and said nothing.

Declining Ji Chengguang's invitation to stay, Li An waved goodbye to the family of three at the door and headed home.

***

On the way home, Li An got a rough sense of the concert from his social media feed. Judging by the short videos filmed from different angles, the overall atmosphere was quite good. The stage setup was far superior to that of the classroom skill assessment. It was clear that Lan Tian had really invested in this.

When the bus arrived, he got off and strolled to the meeting point near the east gate of the residential complex. He stopped and looked around, but not seeing Chen Xuan, he put his hands on his hips and watched the elderly people dancing nearby.

Suddenly, a pair of warm little hands covered his eyes from behind. Then, he felt a gentle nudge on his back.

A moment later.
"Chen Xuan, how much do you weigh?"
"50 kilograms."
"So."
"So what?"
"How... big are you?"
"?"

The next second, a scream echoed through the street. The second after that, he was walking forward, one hand clutching his ear and the other being held by Chen Xuan. Feeling his left earlobe still throbbing and the soft hand in his right, he thought: *A carrot and a stick?*

Ever since holding hands in the elevator, Li An had been missing the feeling of Chen Xuan's hand, but he hadn't had a chance to try again.

"Let's go eat crawfish," Chen Xuan said. She had found a highly-rated restaurant on an app today.
Li An really didn't see the appeal of that stuff. "It's hard to peel and there's so little meat."
Chen Xuan giggled. "It's fine. I'll peel them for you."

Hearing that, Li An felt both touched and afraid to move.

***

The next morning, the wind ensemble held their stage rehearsal. As a special guest, Li An accompanied Chen Xuan to the site early. The process was the same as the piano group's rehearsal the day before: go through the program one by one, with the teachers identifying and solving problems together.

Midway through, Qin Yong arrived with his team. Taking advantage of a break, he directed workers to move a grand piano onto the stage. Li An glanced at it from time to time. He estimated it to be about 6.5 feet—a larger size for a mid-sized grand piano.

*An entry-level concert grand piano,* Li An concluded. It was perfectly suited for a venue like the Huayang Theater. Qin Yong naturally brought it in for the piano concert that evening. A piano concert without a proper concert grand would be hard to justify. As the leader of the Rongcheng music scene, Lan Tian had to maintain a certain level of prestige. He just wondered how the touch would feel.

After the flute octet's performance of *Kiki's Delivery Service* finished, it was time for his and Chen Xuan's program. There was no real need for a rehearsal; they had spent the two days after the Qixi Festival hiding in the practice room, already reaching a consensus on how to handle the piece. They were just waiting for the formal performance the next night. After a quick discussion, they decided to skip the rehearsal. He Yiming didn't mind; he was confident in their performance anyway. Qin Yong also felt it wasn't necessary, even for the official rehearsal the following afternoon—they could just go up and find their marks. He knew they wanted to keep their performance fresh for the actual show.

He agreed.

However. "Li An."

Qin Yong waved at him from the stage; he needed a favor. Li An asked Chen Xuan for a couple of wet wipes, then wove through the busy parents and children and walked up to the right side of the stage.

"Principal Qin."
"Come," Qin Yong gestured toward the grand piano in the center of the stage. "Try it out."

Li An nodded, wiping his hands as he walked over to the piano, inspecting it from all sides. Except for the golden logo next to the music stand, it was a perfect replica of a Yamaha C5L.

"It looks so much like it," he said, leaning over to inspect the soundboard, tuning pins, and the action. "The craftsmanship is good."

Qin Yong smiled without a word.

Li An sat down, lifted his hands, and began a run from the bass register upward. A sudden, rapid stream of notes burst from the center of the stage, drawing everyone's attention. As he reached the top of the scale, his wrist flicked, and his ten fingers cascaded back down.

The tonal uniformity was decent. Halfway down, his right hand suddenly flew into the air. The next moment, he spread his fingers wide!

"BANG!!!"

The sound seemed faster than his forceful strike. A set of chords, played with his powerful touch, rang out like a thunderclap, the massive volume resonating throughout the entire hall.

Chopin's *Revolutionary Etude*, Op. 10, No. 12.

His left hand followed rapidly, flying across the black and white keys from right to left. Li An handled the dancing notes with extreme delicacy, using appropriate tempo, clear phrasing, and a perfect outline of the small motifs to provide a unique interpretation of the piece.

Qin Yong was the closest person to the piano; he could clearly feel that Li An, at the center of this storm of notes, was brewing a specific musical emotion. This was definitely not an improvised performance. He could conclude that Li An must have practiced this piece countless times to achieve such an effortless effect.

The teachers from the wind ensemble were even more struck by the explosive power of the piece. Even though they knew Li An was talented, the effect of his performance in this concert hall, right here and now, was simply incredible.

Chen Xuan watched the figure at the piano from afar, her heart filled with pride. It was as if, as long as Li An sat at the piano, he could always create a surprise.

Just as everyone's emotions were being swept along by the piano, Li An suddenly shifted his technique again after a powerful chord. *Mechanical performance is okay, resonance is average.*

His right hand stretched out with an exaggerated flourish, his thumb hooked slightly, pausing for a half-beat just as he reached the distance for an octave. Then, he let it fall lightly, his right foot pressing the sustain pedal. Instantly, his left hand mimicked the movement, and after three clear, reverberating, bell-like pings, it fell silent.

"Ding, ding, ding."
"Da, da, da."
"Ding, ding, ding."

It was like a dialogue between left and right hands, drawing back the curtain from Chopin to Liszt.

*La Campanella.*

The music had shifted to Liszt's *La Campanella*. Qin Yong's interrupted emotions were immediately reconnected. He realized now that Li An was testing the piano's high register. He thought to himself that if Li An and Tian Yu were to compete on the same stage again just one month later, he wouldn't be able to say for sure who would earn a higher score from him.