Amateur talent show? Top mentors are my students.

Only when the three of them finally squeezed out of the crowd and turned into a passage leading to the underground parking garage did the woman release He Xu's wrist.

Her movements were decisive; she turned to look at Jiang Yanbai, and spoke with a hint of helplessness in her voice:

"I told you not to take a red-eye flight. You're too recognizable on the morning arrival."

Jiang Yanbai pulled his mask down to his chin and took a breath:

"Jen, I was trying to get him here as fast as possible."

The woman—Jen—then turned her gaze to He Xu.

Her gaze swept over him from head to toe, as if assessing a newly acquired item:

"So you're the dancer. The one he wouldn't shut up about for two years."

He Xu choked up at the phrase "two years".

He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but the two English sentences in his mind couldn't be organized properly after a long time.

When he finally found a word—"I'm..."—Jen turned to Jiang Yanbai and added in fluent, slightly Beijing-accented Chinese:

"Your boyfriend's English isn't good. You should have told me earlier so I could have someone prepare a translator in advance."

...?

He Xu: "...I'm not his boyfriend."

Jen glanced at him, her expression completely flat: "I know, but people will think that way if you two stand together. Don't get too close when you get in the car later, watch out for the dogs outside the window."

After saying that, she turned and walked away, her high heels clicking as she went deeper into the garage, her steps so fast it was as if she had wheels on her feet.

He Xu stood there, processing the perfectly pronounced Chinese sentence for a moment, then turned to look at Jiang Yanbai: "...She can speak Chinese?"

"She spent seven years in China, working at the embassy in China." Jiang Yanbai patted He Xu on the back. "Your 'I'm...' was pretty standard just now. At least you pronounced it correctly."

"...If you say another word, I'll take a taxi home by myself today."

"You can't even make an Uber call without a SIM card."

He Xu was silent for three seconds, then quietly followed Jen's steps.

He hated Jiang Yanbai.

And the rich.

-

Jen's assistant retrieved her luggage with lightning speed, almost like a special forces soldier.

He Xu didn't even see the person's face clearly. He only saw a pair of feet wearing black sneakers stop in front of him, bend down, pick up two suitcases, turn around and leave. The whole process took less than ten seconds.

Before He Xu could say "I'll do it myself," the person had already disappeared.

"Don't worry, his name is Marco, my assistant, he's very efficient," Jen said as she walked, without turning her head. "Just follow me, your luggage will be delivered directly to your room."

He Xu followed her out of the elevator in the underground parking garage, and his view suddenly opened up—

Sunlight.

The sunlight in Los Angeles is different from that in China.

Brighter and drier, with an unreserved, overwhelming sense of transparency, it poured straight down from above, creating a dazzling white light on the asphalt road.

There was a faint citrus scent in the air, mixed with the aroma of some tropical plants.

He Xu narrowed his eyes and pulled his hat brim down further.

A completely black SUV was parked at the ground exit, its engine still running, humming softly.

Jen opened the back door and tilted her head towards He Xu: "Get in."

He Xu bent down and sat down. The air conditioning inside the car hit him, the seats were light gray leather, and the space was so spacious that he could stretch his legs out—it was a whole size bigger than he had expected.

Jiang Yanbai climbed in through the other door, sat next to He Xu, and naturally pulled on the seatbelt.

Jen sat in the passenger seat, Marco stepped on the gas, and the car smoothly merged into the traffic on the airport expressway.

"Is this your first time in LA?" Jen turned around from the passenger seat and asked him in a businesslike tone.

"Um."

"How many days will you stay?" Jen asked.

He Xu glanced at Jiang Yanbai: "...At least six months."

Jen raised an eyebrow and glanced at Jiang Yanbai, her eyes conveying the message, "You really didn't tell me the truth."

But she didn't say anything, only turned back and said, "Okay, then we'll have to arrange accommodations for a longer period."

The car drove on the highway for about forty minutes.

The view outside the window gradually transitioned from the drab industrial area around the airport to low white buildings and rows of palm trees.

After passing through a section of road lined with towering "GG" signs on both sides, we turned into a residential area where the terrain gradually rose.

The road narrowed, and neatly trimmed hedges and walls of indeterminate height began to appear on both sides.

Occasionally, a large wrought iron gate is open, offering a glimpse of the white exterior walls and a corner of the swimming pool.

The car stopped in front of a black wrought iron gate.

Marco pressed a button on the remote control, and the gate slowly slid open to both sides, revealing the driveway inside—winding upwards and lined with white-flowering trees on both sides.

The car drove up the driveway, made two more turns, and finally stopped in front of a house.

He Xu looked out the car window and remained silent for a long while.

He got out of the car, looked up at the white-walled, glass-fronted building that seemed to melt into the sky under the California sun, and after several seconds spoke: "...You're telling me it's 'a place to live'?"

"It's a place to live." Jiang Yanbai walked ahead of him, carrying a backpack. "I bought it several years ago, and no one lives there usually, so it's perfect for you to stay in."

He Xu opened his mouth, but only managed to squeeze out four words: "...It's good to be rich."

Jen smiled behind him: "You'll find out later that when he says 'It's perfect for you to stay here,' he's actually been planning it for a long time."

He Xu turned his head and glanced at her.

"I'm just stating the facts," Jen said, raising her hands. "He's been saying your name for two years now; I'm sick of it."

"Jen! Shut up!" Jiang Yanbai's voice came from the porch, carrying a hint of obvious guilt.

Jen completely ignored Jiang Yanbai's threat: "I'll have someone put your luggage in the room on the second floor facing east. It's well-lit and quiet. Settle in first, then go see the doctor tomorrow afternoon. Try to adjust to the time difference today."

He Xu nodded and dragged his feet into the open door.

The space inside the door appears larger than it does from the outside.

A full-length window faces the swimming pool in the backyard and the undulating mountain ridge in the distance.

Sunlight streamed through the glass, casting a warm golden glow on the light-colored wooden floor.

In the living room, there was a set of sofas that looked very expensive, and next to it stood a black grand piano with its lid closed, on which lay a sheet of music that was half-open.

He was standing in the middle of the living room, looking at the mountain ridgeline outside the floor-to-ceiling window, when suddenly something soft hit him on the back of the head.

He turned his head away.

Jiang Yanbai stood two steps away, holding another cushion in his hand, a mischievous smile on his face: "Stop spacing out. Your room is on the second floor, let me show you."

He Xu bent down, picked up the cushion, and threw it back onto the sofa: "Why did you hit me?"

"You stood there motionless, as if you were in a meditative state. I was afraid your soul would leave your body."

"...You're the one whose soul has left my body," He Xu said, but his foot had already started walking towards the stairs.

The room at the end of the second-floor corridor, facing east, was more than twice the size of He Xu's dormitory at the base.

The windows, covering an entire wall, face the backyard pool and the distant mountains, with sunlight streaming in at an angle from the side.

The bed is a standard king-size, the duvet cover is dark gray, and on the bedside table there is a warm yellow table lamp and a box of unopened throat lozenges.

His two suitcases were already neatly arranged next to the wardrobe.

The zipper was unzipped, and the clothes were neatly hung in the closet, the shoes were stacked on the shoe rack, and even the charging cable was rolled up and placed in the bedside table drawer.

He Xu stood at the door for several seconds before speaking, "...Your assistant is also responsible for packing luggage?"

"Marco is an all-rounder." Jiang Yanbai peeked out from behind him. "He used to be a butler at a five-star hotel, and then I poached him."

He Xu opened his mouth as if to say something, but then closed it again.

He went into the room and sat on the edge of the bed. The mattress was softer than he had expected, and he sank in a little.

"You're jet-lagged, so don't think about anything today. Just get some sleep." Jiang Yanbai leaned against the doorframe, looking at him. "I'll have someone bring dinner over, so you don't need to come downstairs."

"And you?"

"I have an appointment with the producer to discuss the arrangement of the new song, so I won't be back for dinner," Jiang Yanbai said. "But Jen will be downstairs; you can contact her if you need anything."

He Xu nodded.

Jiang Yanbai looked at him for a few seconds, making sure he really had nothing more to say, before straightening up from the door frame: "Then I'm leaving."

"Um."

The door was gently closed, and the sound of footsteps gradually faded into the distance in the corridor.

He Xu sat on the edge of the bed, turned his head to look at the outline of the mountains outside the window that were shining in the sunlight, and then lay back on the bed.

The mattress was just the right amount of soft, and the blankets had a clean, slightly soapy scent.

He stared at the ceiling for about two minutes, then closed his eyes.

He didn't know how to define that feeling.

It's neither good nor bad, it just feels very unfamiliar.

It felt like someone had taken me off my original track and put me into a completely different world.

Sunlight, palm trees, swimming pool, and unfamiliar language—everything reminded him that he was far from where he used to be.

This is a completely new world.

No one recognized him as "Teacher He," no one called him choreographer or mentor; he was just a dancer that Jiang Yanbai brought from China.

He turned over, pulling the blanket tighter around himself. The outline of the distant mountains outside the window appeared blurry and gentle in the afternoon light.

Forget it, come here.

What's there to be afraid of?