Chapter 8: Summer

"I'm not just showing off; I want to spar with Teacher Huang. Whenever I meet someone who claims to know music, I always challenge them to this," Zhao Jing said, as if she were about to test Huang Guolun's abilities.

Holding a tray of water glasses, Zhao Jing returned to her seat and arranged the cups in a row on the dining table. She then poured varying amounts of mineral water into each glass, creating different pitches through resonance.

Zhao Yan laughed and remarked, "Teacher Huang, please don't laugh at her. She picked up these half-baked tricks from who knows where."

"My half-baked tricks are better than those of many so-called music experts!" Zhao Jing shot Zhao Yan a look, then turned to Huang Guolun and issued her challenge, "Teacher Huang, let's compete by playing the water glasses. I don't think you're necessarily better than me."

The more Huang Guolun interacted with young Zhao Jing, the more he noticed her sharp personality—she actually dared to challenge him in his own field of expertise.

Well then, he would just put this young lady in her place.

He smiled and watched in silence as Zhao Yan filled all seven glasses with water.

Huang Guolun expected Zhao Jing to attempt something sophisticated—using the pads of her fingers to rub the rim and produce beautiful resonant tones, a skill many street performers have mastered and which, when done well, is quite impressive.

But instead, Zhao Jing grabbed a wooden chopstick and tapped the sides of the glasses to test the sound.

She was simply playing the most basic form of glass percussion!

Huang Guolun inwardly chuckled; even Huang Tao could do this. Was Zhao Jing really planning to use such a trivial skill to compete with him?

Zhao Jing earnestly tested the notes, listening to several pitches and finding them off. She adjusted the water, taking nearly five minutes to get the seven glasses to the pitches she wanted.

During this time, Zhao Yan slipped into the back kitchen, removed her apron, and returned with two cups of latte.

Zhao Jing snatched one, took a large sip of the creamy foam atop the coffee, and her face displayed utter satisfaction.

Clearly, she relished Zhao Yan's coffee.

Zhao Yan's coffee-making was indeed exceptional.

Zhao Jing licked the foam from her upper lip and prepared to show off, asking Huang Guolun with a boastful air, "Teacher Huang, do you know how to play this?"

Without waiting for a reply, she used two chopsticks to tap out the simple melody of "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star," singing along in clear voice to the rhythm: "Twinkle, twinkle, little star, how I wonder what you are, up above the world so high, like a diamond in the sky..."

Listening to Zhao Jing sing, Zhao Yan felt embarrassed.

Most people watching her perform this little talent would probably applaud, thinking her quite impressive.

But to a professional like Huang Guolun, Zhao Jing's performance was truly childish and full of flaws.

The pitches of the seven glasses Zhao Jing had tuned were all inaccurate. The notes she aimed for, from left to right, should have been flat Sol, Do, Re, Mi, Fa, Sol, La.

But the flat Sol and La were each off by half a tone, and the other notes weren't precise either.

Her singing, on the other hand, was quite accurate; she was simply masking the inaccuracies of the glasses with her voice. If Huang Guolun were a judge on a talent show, he'd have eliminated her immediately.

Zhao Jing, however, believed her idle skill was impressive; typically, when she competed with others, she played better than most. Even some friends in the music circle couldn't match her. So she felt she had a unique edge.

Those born to seek attention simply love to show off—it's unavoidable.

After "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star," Zhao Jing, still unsatisfied, played and sang "Two Little Tigers," an even simpler tune.

Her singing was indeed adorable, but her playing, in the ears of the masterful Huang Guolun, was increasingly unbearable.

"...One has no eyes, one has no ears, isn't that strange, isn't that strange, hey!"

Finishing, Zhao Jing smiled with satisfaction.

She raised her beautiful eyes to Huang Guolun and asked, "Teacher Huang, what do you think? Do I have a bit of musical talent?"

"Ahem, your singing is decent—could compete with the kids in my son's kindergarten—but your playing... I can't compliment it; many notes are off."

"Ha!" Zhao Yan, sipping her coffee, was amused by Huang Guolun's honest assessment.

Zhao Jing retorted, "Then your son's kindergarten must be full of musical prodigies. Many people can't play as well as I do."

From a music teacher's perspective, Huang Guolun explained, "Most people could reach your level with a little practice. Those who don't play well simply haven't put in the effort."

Before Zhao Jing could respond, Huang Guolun pressed further, "You didn't have systematic music training as a child, did you? You can't even judge pitch accurately now. Anyone who's trained in instruments can tell from the sound of these glasses that your tuning is almost all wrong."

Zhao Jing frowned and insisted, "I think my tuning is pretty good; it sounds lovely when played."

"That's just your opinion. Let me adjust them for you—hand me the chopsticks."

Huang Guolun took the chopsticks from Zhao Jing, pulled the seven glasses closer, and began to recalibrate them—adding water where needed, pouring out where too much, swiftly tuning all seven to the correct notes.

With two chopsticks, Huang Guolun gently played "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" and "Two Little Tigers" for Zhao Jing and Zhao Yan.

Unlike Zhao Jing, who needed her singing to cover the glasses' sound, Huang Guolun used only the melody produced by the glasses, making the tune instantly recognizable.

His playing was far more graceful and gentle than Zhao Jing's; every note flowed smoothly, as if the pure sounds leapt from a music box, seamless and full of the innocence of childhood.

"Impressive," Zhao Jing couldn't help but praise Huang Guolun.

Zhao Yan teased Zhao Jing, "Now that's a real master. You should learn from him."

"You've practiced this before?" Zhao Jing asked Huang Guolun.

"This needs practice? For someone who's studied music for over twenty years, this is mere child's play—something you can pick up instantly."

Zhao Yan laughed at Zhao Jing, "See, now who's showing off? You've made a spectacle of yourself."

"It's not a spectacle; I said I was sparring with Teacher Huang," Zhao Jing insisted as Huang Guolun's melody lingered. She asked, "Can you play anything else?"

"Of course. What do you want to hear?"

Zhao Yan suggested, "'Little Swallow'?"

Zhao Jing countered, "'Little Swallow' is too easy; I can play it myself. Teacher Huang is so confident—let's try something difficult. Can you play Joe Hisaishi's 'Summer'? It's one of my sister's favorite instrumental pieces."

"I can give it a try," Huang Guolun replied gently, surprising both Zhao Jing and Zhao Yan.

Zhao Jing had intended to stump Huang Guolun with such a challenging piece, doubting anyone could play "Summer" on water glasses.

Yet he agreed!

Zhao Yan's soft gaze sparkled with delight. She had never seen anyone attempt "Summer" on water glasses and eagerly awaited this miracle.

Zhao Jing tucked her stray hair behind her ear and questioned, "Are you bluffing, Teacher Huang? Can you really play 'Summer' on water glasses?"

"These few glasses aren't enough. Bring me more, and I'll set up several sets of notes. I can attempt a simple C major version of 'Summer.'"

Zhao Yan hugged a plush pillow from the sofa, her sweet dimples showing as she curiously asked Huang Guolun, "Have you played 'Summer' this way before?"

"No, I've only played it on the piano—never on water glasses. But I can try."

Hearing this, Zhao Jing immediately got up to fetch more glasses. "If you can really play 'Summer' on glasses, I will... Oh!"

She was speaking to Huang Guolun, but before finishing, her left foot—wearing white high heels—got caught in a gap in the floor, causing her to stumble forward.

Fortunately, her yoga training made her agile. In a flash, she steadied herself against the wall, avoiding a humiliating fall.

Zhao Yan quickly asked, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Hearing that Teacher Huang can play 'Summer' got me excited, ha."

Feeling embarrassed, her face blushed pink, but Zhao Jing composed herself and continued her challenge, "Teacher Huang, if you really can play 'Summer,' I will absolutely concede!"

Huang Guolun smiled silently, thinking, "Why concede to me? You should thank the wall."

She quickly went to the kitchen and brought back a pile of water glasses.

Returning to her seat, Zhao Jing stared as Huang Guolun poured water into over twenty glasses, calibrating each to the correct pitch.

"Can you handle this many glasses?" Zhao Jing still doubted him, suspecting he was showing off by preparing so many glasses.

Huang Guolun replied, "I can handle the eighty-eight keys of a piano; what's a few glasses?"

Zhao Jing argued, "On a piano, you can use ten fingers, but with this many glasses, you only have two chopsticks. It's not the same. I've never seen a drummer hit so many drums at once."

Huang Guolun thought, "That just shows your lack of experience." But he refrained from retorting, lest this young woman take offense.

With meticulous care, he spent over ten minutes tuning all twenty-one glasses.

Zhao Yan turned off the sound system in the café.

The atmosphere instantly became quiet and intimate.

Zhao Yan, hugging a round, cute pillow that matched her figure, sat opposite Huang Guolun on the sofa, full of anticipation for his performance.

Zhao Jing crossed her arms, somewhat as a spectator, curious to see what this teacher—whose character she found questionable—could really do.

Huang Guolun removed his black jacket, which felt tight on his shoulders. That night, to look stylish, he wore a dark plaid shirt—BURBERRY, very fashionable.

He unbuttoned the cuffs, rolled them up twice, and picked up two "chopstick drumsticks." Starting from the low notes, he tapped gently: "ding... ding... ding..."

The glasses produced crisp sounds, reminiscent of piano notes but with no lingering resonance—just short tones.

After playing a few melodic fragments, Huang Guolun found his rhythm and confidence.

He told the two girls, "I'm going to try playing now."

"Mm," Zhao Yan nodded gently, her warm gaze filled with expectation.

Zhao Jing, seeing the beautiful melodies Huang Guolun played while testing the glasses, no longer dared to doubt him, but wondered inwardly, "Is he really this skilled?"

Yet, Huang Guolun was far more skilled than she imagined!

From the very first bar of "Summer," Huang Guolun used the natural tones of the glasses to weave a fresh, warm dreamscape in the café.

He had only played a short segment when Zhao Yan already held her breath, unable to believe her eyes—someone could play such an exquisite, moving melody with nothing but water glasses and chopsticks! This Teacher Huang was incredible!

As Huang Guolun's flawless performance continued, Joe Hisaishi's classic "Summer" took on new vitality within the café.

Summer had already passed, but the romantic tune created by the collision of glasses and chopsticks swept the two girls into the gentle, refreshing atmosphere of the film "Kikujiro's Summer," leaving them utterly enchanted.

Since his hearing improved, Huang Guolun himself hadn't anticipated such a dramatic enhancement of his musical sensitivity, imagination, and interpretive ability.

Before he began, he wasn't confident he could play "Summer" perfectly on the first try.

But once he started, he realized he had a deeper, more harmonious connection with the glasses than he had imagined. Though the interaction wasn't quite as rich as with piano or guitar, it still felt like meeting an old friend—full of tacit understanding.

Midway through, he even closed his eyes, relying solely on touch to find the glasses, immersing himself completely in the performance.

His aura rivaled that of any renowned music master!

Eyes closed, Huang Guolun made the music ever more captivating, leaving Zhao Jing's jaw nearly dropped to her chest!

Against the backdrop of pastoral bookshelves and luxurious sofas, the café's warm, mellow lighting bathed Huang Guolun, creating a cozy, delightful ambiance. His effortless playing seemed to weave the most beautiful musical tapestry for the world—truly dazzling!

This summery musical tableau gradually enveloped both Zhao Yan and Zhao Jing, two girls with contrasting personalities.

Awed by the extraordinary performance, Zhao Yan barely dared to breathe, her warm eyes flitting between the glasses and Huang Guolun's face. She marveled, "Are high school music teachers really this talented? I've truly been enlightened today!"

Zhao Jing, who had harbored prejudice against Huang Guolun, found her heart stirred by his phenomenal glass performance.

With one rendition of "Summer," he completely reversed his image in her mind.

Though Zhao Jing still resented Huang Guolun's matchmaking schemes involving his son, setting aside his character, this teacher's skill with water glasses was simply stunning!

So stunning that Zhao Jing was tempted to become his disciple on the spot!

As Huang Guolun neared the end of "Summer"—

"Jingle, jingle."

The wind chime above the café door rang.

A couple pushed the door open and entered.