Amateur talent show? Top mentors are my students.

The days He Xu spent in the hospital were longer and quieter than expected—the latter being in a physical sense, since he couldn't speak.

He leaned against the hospital bed, holding the pen and the notebook Jen had specially bought, slowly writing and drawing on them.

The afternoon sun in Los Angeles streamed through the gaps in the blinds, casting parallel streaks of light on the white sheets.

Jiang Yanbai sat on the chair next to him, a laptop on his lap, processing work emails.

He would occasionally look up at He Xu to see what he was doing, then look down again and continue typing.

After writing a line, He Xu held up the paper and tapped it on the edge of the bed.

Jiang Yanbai looked up and glanced at the line of text on the paper—"How much longer are you going to stay here?"

"You want to kick me out?" Jiang Yanbai leaned back in his chair.

He Xu shook his head and wrote another line: "No. You seem very busy."

Jiang Yanbai glanced at his laptop, then closed the screen: "I'm not busy anymore."

He Xu looked at him, remained silent for a few seconds, and then lowered his head to write on the paper: "You don't need to stay here. I'm not going to run away."

"Of course you won't run away," Jiang Yanbai said. "But you just had surgery. What if you want a drink of water but can't get it? What if you need to go to the toilet but no one helps you? What if you feel unwell but can't express it—what are you going to do?"

He Xu pointed to the call bell on the bedside table.

Jiang Yanbai glanced at the bell, then at He Xu, and said in a very serious tone, "That bell is for nurses—I'm for you."

He Xu paused on the paper with his pen, then wrote one word: "Get out!!!"

Jiang Yanbai glanced at the word, laughed, and said in a smug tone, "You can only write insults like that, how pathetic~"

He Xu turned a page expressionlessly and wrote a few words on the new page: "You wait. When I get better, the first person I'll scold is you."

Jiang Yanbai looked at the line of text and nodded: "Then I must cherish these peaceful days."

He Xu kicked him.

-

On the evening of the third day of He Xu's hospitalization, the door to his ward was suddenly pushed open.

It was so powerful, it felt like someone had kicked it.

He Xu was leaning against the headboard, holding the pen in his hand, with a sentence half-written in his notebook—his suggestions for revising the choreography of NOVA's new song.

He looked up when he heard the noise, and then paused for a moment.

Emiko stood in the doorway.

She was wearing a bright orange short jacket over a black tank top, her hair was tied up in a messy bun, and she had sunglasses on.

She looked like she had just been parachuted in from a fashion week film set, completely out of place in the quiet, soft off-white tones of the hospital room.

She took off her sunglasses, her gaze precisely locking onto He Xu, and strode in.

"Hey! You're awake! And you're not dead! That's good!"

He Xu paused for three seconds, then picked up his pen and wrote six dots on his notebook: "..."

Ellipsis.

Speechless.

Emiko stood by his bedside, hands on her hips, completely ignoring what he was writing, and continued speaking to herself: "River told me you were having surgery. He said you couldn't talk, and that I should wait until you were better before coming. I said no."

As she spoke, she gestured to her chin: "So here I am. How's your throat? Does it hurt? Can you breathe?"

He Xu shook his head, picked up his pen, hesitated for a moment, and continued writing: "No pain, can breathe, can't speak."

Emiko leaned closer to read the text, then frowned: "This is so inconvenient. I want to hear your voice. It's sexy."

He Xu wrote on the paper: "You've already said that."

"It doesn't matter. I'll say it again."

A series of unhurried footsteps came from the door of the ward.

Jiang Yanbai walked in carrying two glasses of water, and the moment he saw Emiko, his steps visibly faltered.

He paused for about a second, then continued walking in, placed one of the glasses of water on He Xu's bedside table, turned around, and said to Emiko in English, his tone full of helplessness, "I told you to wait until he was discharged."

"I heard you. I just didn't listen," Emiko answered frankly, without a hint of guilt.

She gestured towards He Xu with her chin. "Look at him. He's fine. He's sitting up, he's writing, he's—" She squinted and leaned closer to examine He Xu's features, her tone appreciative. "—still very good-looking. What's the problem?"

Jiang Yanbai stood two steps away, without replying.

But his gaze swept back and forth between Emiko and He Xu, as if he were confirming something.

A moment later, he placed another glass of water on the bedside table, pulled up a chair and sat down on the other side of the bed, his posture somewhere between "accompanying" and "supervising".

Emiko glanced at him and raised an eyebrow: "River, you look like you're guarding something."

"I am guarding something," Jiang Yanbai said, his tone unchanged. "Is there a problem?"

"No. Just making an observation."

He Xu sat between two chairs, holding the pen in his hand, watching the two people forming a subtle standoff on either side of his hospital bed, feeling a sense of déjà vu about the scene.

He sighed, picked up his notebook, turned to a new page, wrote two lines, and held it up.

The first line: "I'm fine."

The second line: "Stop arguing."

Emiko saw the two lines of text first. She chuckled, her voice clear and crisp: "I'm not fighting. I'm just stating facts."

Jiang Yanbai also saw the two lines of text, but he didn't laugh. He just leaned back in his chair, his posture a little more relaxed than before.

He turned to He Xu and switched back to Chinese: "Did you take painkillers?"

He Xu shook his head and made a "it doesn't hurt" gesture.

"Don't push yourself too hard. The doctor said to eat what you should eat." Jiang Yanbai's tone was filled with natural concern, as if it were a habitual remark.

Emiko noticed the tone of voice.

She didn't say anything, but her expression was more unsettling than anything she could say.

She turned to He Xu, changed the subject, and resumed her bright, rhythmic tone: "[English] Listen. About the dance I mentioned earlier. The performance is about two months away, the choreography is still in its early stages, and we haven't finalized the dancers yet. I've met three dancers, and none of them feel right."

She paused, her gaze fixed on He Xu's face: "[English] I know you're in recovery and can't dance at full strength for now. But once you're ready—I hope you'll at least come to the studio to take a look. If you don't like it, you don't have to dance. But you need to see it for yourself."

After listening to the string of English, He Xu took two seconds to process it, then looked down at his notebook and wrote: "Can I take a look at the arrangement? I can imagine it just by listening."

Emiko leaned closer for a look, then smiled and said, "Of course, don't be shy."

He Xu wrote: "Do I look like someone who would be polite?"

Emiko chuckled at the message, then stood up and took a half-step back. "Alright. That's enough for today. I'll let you rest. But I'll be back. This isn't a goodbye."

She paused at the door, turning her head to look at Jiang Yanbai: "River, you're cute when you're protective. It's a good look on you."

Jiang Yanbai's expression remained unchanged, but his ears turned a strange red for a moment: "...Get out of here!"