Chapter 9: A Little Love Song

This was a young couple of university students who had just finished strolling through Houhai. The boy was named Wang Peng, and the girl was Jiang Lili. They were regular patrons of SalomeCAFE. Previously, they had purchased a coffee set from the café through an online group deal. After tasting it in person, they became enamored with the little shop’s romantic atmosphere, the owner’s kindness and enthusiasm, and, of course, the delicious coffee. Thus, they became some of the rare few willing to spend real money as returning customers.

Business had been quiet that evening, so when Zhao Yan saw customers walk in, she leapt to her feet, genuine joy lighting up her face. Huang Guolun was still playing the enchanting tune “Summer.” Zhao Yan suddenly felt it would be impolite to linger listening, torn between staying to enjoy Huang Guolun’s performance and rushing to greet the guests.

Sensing her hesitation, Huang Guolun quickly drew “Summer” to a close and smiled, telling her, “Go on, greet your guests. Don’t mind me.” Zhao Yan called to Zhao Jing, “Help me look after Mr. Huang, will you? I’ll be right back!”

With the lingering warmth of “Summer” still echoing in her mind, Zhao Yan left their table in high spirits and hurried over to welcome the young couple at the door.

Zhao Jing unconsciously edged closer to the table, her face full of admiration as she exclaimed to Huang Guolun, “Mr. Huang, I’m truly impressed! You can play ‘Summer’ even with a water glass—you’re a real master of music!”

“I’m just a music teacher, nothing so grand as a master,” he replied.

“No, no, you’re much more impressive than any music teacher I’ve ever had. If I’d had someone like you at school, I would have loved music for sure!”

Huang Guolun smiled faintly, letting her words of admiration pass without further comment. Zhao Jing’s sudden change in attitude took him a little by surprise. Just moments ago, she’d been full of doubts, and now she was practically worshipping him. Wasn’t this girl a bit too fickle? But then, plenty of young people these days were like that: liking what they liked, disliking what they disliked, never hiding their true feelings or playing at insincerity.

“Can you play ‘See You Again’?” Zhao Jing asked expectantly, surreptitiously twisting her ankle under the table where she’d just given it a slight sprain.

“The theme song from Fast & Furious 8?”

“That’s the one! The water-drop notes at the beginning are so beautiful—perfect for playing with a glass. I’ve tried practicing, but I just can’t get it right.”

“That’s an easy one. How could you not manage it?” Huang Guolun’s words stung a little, though he hadn’t meant them that way; it was just how he usually spoke with his students.

Without further ado, he tapped out the water-drop introduction to “See You Again.”

It sounded like droplets of emotion breaking free from the depths of the heart. The melody awakened a tide of memories in Zhao Jing and instantly elevated the atmosphere of the café.

The couple, who’d just ordered coffee and settled by the window, hadn’t yet taken off their coats when they heard the familiar strains of “See You Again.” Both turned to look. When they saw that this beautiful melody was being played by an unremarkable middle-aged man tapping water glasses with chopsticks, they were both amazed.

“Incredible!” Wang Peng, thin and dark, couldn’t help but exclaim.

Jiang Lili was equally stunned, whispering in awe, “That uncle is amazing.”

Across the table, Zhao Jing’s favorite English song in recent years was precisely “See You Again.”

Watching as Huang Guolun played the introduction without hesitation, Zhao Jing was instantly won over. She nodded emphatically, raising her two perfectly manicured thumbs in enthusiastic approval of Huang Guolun’s musical skills.

In Huang Guolun’s hands, the chopsticks and glasses seemed imbued with soul, the tune they produced carrying an irresistible magic that drew everyone in.

Zhao Jing closed her eyes, savoring the melody he played. When the verse arrived, she couldn’t help but sing softly:

“It’s been a long day without you, my friend,
And I’ll tell you all about it when I see you again…”

Her singing, unexpectedly harmonious with Huang Guolun’s accompaniment, seemed to breathe new life into the song. Though her voice was not especially trained nor as distinctive as Bai Yao’s, its clear, pleasant quality, coupled with the water-glass melody, made the performance lovely.

The first line Zhao Jing sang brought an involuntary surge of memory to Huang Guolun—he thought of his wife, Chen Jia. Without her by his side, the past few years truly had been endless. If only he could see her again…

But his hands did not pause; the melody continued as Zhao Jing sang on:

“We’ve come a long way from where we began,
Oh I’ll tell you all about it when I see you again,
When I see you again…”

Her singing made Huang Guolun miss Chen Jia all the more. It wasn’t that Zhao Jing’s voice was so moving, but rather that the atmosphere of “See You Again” itself stirred his longing.

Zhao Jing opened her eyes and met Huang Guolun’s gaze, filled with yearning for his wife. It was as if she’d been shocked by electricity; suddenly bashful, she broke into a playful smile and joked, “I think we could form a duo—we’d sweep every karaoke bar in town!”

Huang Guolun only smiled. If all he wanted was to sweep karaoke bars, there’d be no need to form a duo.

By the window, Wang Peng and Jiang Lili were dazzled by Huang Guolun and Zhao Jing’s tender, water-glass rendition of “See You Again.” They’d visited countless bars and live music venues, seen all sorts of performances, but never something so pure and natural as this—accompaniment with just glasses and chopsticks, yet sounding so good. Their interest was piqued.

Zhao Yan brought over the freshly made lattes. Wang Peng quickly asked, “Sister Yan, did you hire singers for your café? They’re incredible!”

Jiang Lili added excitedly, “Can we request a song?”

Before Zhao Yan could reply, Zhao Jing jumped up, exclaiming, “Of course you can! But there’s a fee—you have to order a tiramisu!”

Jiang Lili laughed, “Sure! I was just about to order tiramisu. Sister Yan, could you bring us the one you served last time, with the two hearts drawn on top?”

Zhao Yan looked a little embarrassed. “That version isn’t available today—it takes several hours to make from scratch. Let me bring you the bear design instead, it’s the same price but even bigger, and just as delicious.”

Hearing it was a larger portion, Wang Peng quickly agreed, “Great, the bear one it is. Thanks, Sister Yan.”

Jiang Lili asked Zhao Jing in a sweet voice, “Pretty lady, can we request our song now?”

Zhao Jing was secretly delighted. “Of course! What would you like to hear?”

Zhao Yan shot Zhao Jing a slight reproachful glance, silently telling her not to be so presumptuous—she hadn’t even checked with Mr. Huang. But Huang Guolun had no objections; he was enjoying this new-found entertainment, tapping on the glasses.

Jiang Lili made her request: “Could you do ‘Little Love Song’ by Sodagreen? I absolutely adore that song!”

Wang Peng, affectionately stroking Jiang Lili’s hand on the tabletop, teased, “I knew you’d pick ‘Little Love Song.’”

Suddenly, Zhao Jing grew a bit nervous and whispered to Huang Guolun, “Can you play ‘Little Love Song’?”

“Of course! The piano intro to that song is beautiful—perfect for glasses.”

As he spoke, the melody was already playing in his mind.

Zhao Jing turned her back to the students, grimacing as she confessed to Huang Guolun, “But I don’t really know how to sing it.”

“You don’t?” he asked in surprise.

“I’ve heard it but never sung it. I’m not really into these ultra-sweet songs.”

Huang Guolun was a little nonplussed.

Jiang Lili caught on and asked, “What’s wrong? Can’t you sing it?”

Zhao Jing made a pleading face at Huang Guolun, gesturing for help. They’d already ordered tiramisu—if they didn’t perform, it’d look bad.

Understanding her predicament, Huang Guolun nodded to her, then said to Jiang Lili and Wang Peng, “We can do it. But is it all right if I sing?”

Jiang Lili grinned, “Uncle, your voice isn’t as gentle as Qingfeng’s.”

Wang Peng egged him on, “That just means Uncle’s version will have a touch of seasoned tenderness—totally different vibe!”

Behind the students, Zhao Jing secretly gave Huang Guolun a big thumbs-up, sticking out her tongue in a playful show of support.

Hearing that Huang Guolun was about to sing “Little Love Song,” Zhao Yan hurriedly brought out the tiramisu she’d made earlier for the students, then quickly sat down opposite Huang Guolun, ready to play the role of an eager fan, sipping her coffee in anticipation.

“Ahem.”

He hadn’t recorded much that day, so Huang Guolun cleared his throat before tapping out the piano prelude to “Little Love Song.”

The glasses instantly resonated with a charming melody, pure and captivating like a music box, imbuing the song’s introduction with a unique, romantic vitality.

At the sound, Jiang Lili felt like bowing before him—she’d never imagined that someone could play such a lovely tune using only glasses and chopsticks!

Goosebumps rose on Wang Peng’s arms. With his musical background, he couldn’t help but marvel at the unassuming man in the BURBERRY shirt—his skill was extraordinary!

The fluidity and beauty of the melody played on the glasses surpassed what most could achieve on a piano. Who was this man? How could he be so talented?

Though Zhao Jing and Zhao Yan had already heard several of Huang Guolun’s water-glass performances, they were still struck by a fresh wave of awe—the glasses and chopsticks before them seemed to have been enchanted by him, producing such melodious, enchanting music that it left them speechless.

And when Huang Guolun’s rugged yet gentle singing voice joined in, the four in the café were instantly swept up in a wave of emotion, as if intoxicated by the heady aroma of aged wine.