Chapter 170: Tattling

（1）

Half the winter break passed, and life in Jing Shi and An Shi was no different—just as ordinary and warm.

Another morning.

"I'm off."

Pei Muyin slung her violin case over her shoulder, changed her shoes, and headed out to the grand theater.

In the living room.

Shu Shu and Shu Lingchen were doing their winter break homework.

Shu Shu glanced at her son beside her for the fifth time, her expression hard to put into words—because of his ugly handwriting.

It was all crooked and twisted, as if scratched by a chick's claws.

It was too ugly to look at.

Moreover, the stroke order of many characters was wrong, enough to trigger anyone's OCD.

Shu Shu wanted to remind him many times but held back.

Then she heard—

"Mom, can we just do our own work? Stop copying mine all the time."

Shu Lingchen put down his pen, sighed, and said helplessly, "As the saying goes, you can do something once or twice, but not a third time—but you're my mom, and I've already let you copy me five times."

"But there can't be a sixth time—my answers have dignity too."

Saying this, the teenager seriously stretched out his arm and firmly blocked his own homework book.

"..."

Shu Shu stared in bewilderment, then snorted angrily and questioned, "Is it necessary for the top student to copy the nineteenth-place student's homework?"

Shu Lingchen sighed again: "That's a stereotype about the nineteenth-place student. Isn't their homework worthy of being copied by the first-place student? Conversely, does that mean the first-place student can openly copy the nineteenth-place student's work?"

"How domineering."

"........"

Sometimes Shu Shu felt that the saying 'talking too much is useless' really made sense.

So.

She chose to raise her hand and give her son a loving big thumbs-up.

…

In the spacious meeting room, the light was clear and bright.

The marketing department manager was orderly reporting last week's chart trends.

Before the host's seat.

The phone on the smooth tabletop lit up its screen.

Pei Du glanced slightly aside, then picked up his phone and unlocked it.

Lingchen:

"Lao Pei, someone's bullying me!"

"?? ……"

Pei Du's brows furrowed, his long fingers about to press the voice call button straightaway, but he glanced at that crying cute emoticon.

"..."

He withdrew his finger, Pei Du's brows and eyes relaxed, he pulled up the keyboard and typed a few words: "Who's bullying you."

On the other end, he took a while to reply.

Lingchen:

"If I tell you who's bullying me, will you go get justice for me?"

"?? 3??"

Pei Du answered without hesitation:

"Yeah, I will."

Just as Shu Lingchen was about to smile in front of his phone screen, the next second a message that seemed to read his mind popped up:

"Except Mom."

Shu Lingchen's face fell instantly, and he uttered a question from the depths of his soul:

"Why!"

Lao Pei: "I don't dare."

Shu Lingchen: "Damn!"

Even just the two simple words "I don't dare" on the screen conveyed an honest sincerity.

Shu Lingchen felt as if his mouth were stuffed with something, giving him a sense of fullness.

He seemed to have a vague idea of how, when he and his sister weren't around, his mom and dad's statuses weighed out.

On this side,

Pei Du then received another message from his son.

"Lao Pei, um, I have a question for you."

It seemed like a fairly serious question; Pei Du's expression turned slightly more solemn as he began to wait quietly.

"Well, suppose I and my mom both fall into the water at the same time and only one can be saved—who would you save?"

"Friendly reminder: if you don't choose my mom, I'll deduct points from you—big points!"

"But if you also don't choose me, I'll deduct points too."

"So, Lao Pei, who would you choose to save?"

"???"

Pei Du: "……"

Only at this moment did Pei Du realize his son had come not to vent his grievances.

It was just because he had been 'bullied' by his mom and couldn't fight back, so he turned and came to 'bully' him instead.

As Pei Du had expected, Shu Lingchen stared at the message interface that hadn't replied for a long time and laughed like a big fool.

After bothering his dad, he went to bother his sister, but this time she had no free time to look at her phone.

…

Grand Theatre.

The violinists' training took place in the auditorium, with neat, uplifting strains of music drifting from time to time.

Just as all the violinists were earnestly playing their pieces, several men and women in formal attire entered from the audience entrance, bearing the unique extraordinary air of artists.

Daisy walked at the front, smiling as she introduced something to the people behind her.

A woman asked jokingly, 'Everything that needed to be known is known; I'm mainly curious now—who is the child that Teacher Daisy has been sending invitation after invitation to?'

Before Daisy could speak.

That woman playfully blinked and said, 'Let me guess.'

She said.

Her gaze swept over each violinist below, then lingered on a girl with a fluffy bun.

'Is it her?'

Daisy exclaimed in surprise, 'Shi'er, your eyes are still as sharp as ever.'

'No, no, I should say you have an even keener eye for talent.' Shi'er didn't withdraw his gaze, nodding in agreement: 'Indeed, she's a child with spiritual aura; no wonder Mr. Mingzhuo left her file.'

'Right.'

Shi'er recalled something.

'I heard that when Berlin Su recruited pianists last year, there was also a particularly outstanding contestant; I've seen the video, her fingering is extraordinarily delicate—Teacher Daisy, you must have taken her under your wing, right?'

'No.' Daisy said regretfully, 'That contestant filled out all false information, and besides, she was wearing a mask and hat at the time, making it impossible to contact her afterward.'

'Normally, pianists like this wouldn't go through the open audition; they'd submit materials directly for an official interview.'

'She probably isn't interested in Berlin Su, so her reason for coming to the open audition must be something else.'

…

A week later, the Berlin Su Orchestra issued an internal announcement.

The roster for Mr. Mingzhuo's performance ensemble was posted, and the line for the opening violinist bore Pei Muyin's name.

That afternoon.

Daisy's office door was knocked on.

'Please come in.'

'Teacher Daisy.'

Daisy, wearing glasses, looked up from her computer screen at the girl who pushed the door open, her expression puzzled: 'Shi Yao? What do you need?'

Shi Yao whispered, 'It's about Mr. Mingzhuo's performance ensemble roster.'

Daisy smiled, her voice gentle: 'Oh, this—have you seen your own name? You're in the strings section, and among the violinists there you're the youngest—are you nervous?'

'No.' Shi Yao shook her head: 'Teacher Daisy, I mean, could I get a chance to try the opening violin performance?'

'What?' Daisy's smile faltered: 'The opening violinist has already been set as Pei Muyin—didn't you see that on the roster?'

'Teacher Daisy, I mean, could you give me a chance to compete for the opening spot?'

Shi Yao looked at Daisy with an almost pleading gaze.

'Teacher, you know that since joining the orchestra I've been practicing hard, never slacking even during school, all so I could perform Teacher Mingzhuo's opening piece.'

'Shi Yao, I know your effort.' Daisy's expression turned stern: 'But the opening violinist was personally chosen by Mr. Mingzhuo; I have no authority to interfere.'

Shi Yao still wouldn't give up: 'Could you take me to see Mr. Mingzhuo? He could test me on any piece, and I—I can prove I'm absolutely no worse than Pei Muyin, really! Even my teacher said I can.'

The girl before them spoke rather radically.

Daisy is usually not a strict instructor, especially with children she's always extra affable, but now she furrowed her brows, her tone full of severity.

Shi Yao, first of all, not discussing whether you can truly prove yourself, but first you need to learn a word: respect. Respect Teacher Mingzhuo's decision, and also respect Pei Muyin chosen by Teacher Mingzhuo.

Having said that much, Shi Yao still refused to give up: 'Teacher I—'

'All right, no need to say more.' Daisy made a gesture of invitation: 'Please go out, I'm busy.'

(2)