Amateur talent show? Top mentors are my students.

Jiang Yanbai did not answer that question.

He looked at He Xu with a complex, indescribable look in his eyes.

"...Say one more word to me," he said.

He Xu looked at him, paused for a moment, and then said, "...Are you sick?"

"Say one more curse."

"You fucking—"

"Keep cursing."

He Xu took a deep breath: "You're crazy."

After hearing the last word, Jiang Yanbai slowly buried his face in his hands, his shoulders trembling.

He Xu looked at him, unsure how to react. He hesitated for a moment, then nudged Jiang Yanbai's knee with his foot: "...Are you serious? My throat's better now, you don't need to cry."

Jiang Yanbai raised his head; his eyes were indeed red, but his mouth was stretched into a wide grin.

He sniffed hard and then said something that stunned He Xu.

"You are never allowed to sing in front of anyone for the rest of your life!"

He Xu paused for a moment in his water glass: "...What do you mean?"

"I'm telling you, you're never allowed to sing again in your life." Jiang Yanbai's voice carried an unreasonable stubbornness. "You're already good enough at speaking. If you sing again, other people will try to take your voice from me."

He Xu stared at him for three seconds, then put the water glass back on the coffee table: "...Is there something in your recording studio that could drive someone crazy?"

"I'm serious. You can sing, but only when there's no one else around. I don't agree with you standing on stage and singing for other people."

"What gives you the right—"

"Because I'm your best friend!"

He Xu opened his mouth, then closed it, reached for an apple on the coffee table, and pretended to throw it at him.

"Try saying that again?"

Jiang Yanbai looked at him, and those illogical and unreasonable words finally stopped.

His lips were still upturned and his eyes were still red, but his expression had indeed relaxed.

He cleared his throat: "Okay, okay, I won't say anymore." Then he stood up, went to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water, and said in a very low voice with his back to He Xu.

"...It just feels like, after waiting for so long, it's finally done."

He Xu sat on the sofa, watching Jiang Yanbai's back without saying a word.

But the corners of his mouth couldn't help but curl up slightly.

-

He Xu began practicing his voice every day under the guidance of a doctor.

At seven in the morning, after returning from my run, I took a shower, changed into a dry T-shirt, stood in front of the window, looked at the morning sky over Los Angeles, and started rambling.

On the first day, he hesitated a bit when he spoke.

His Adam's apple bobbed up and down, and air flowed over the surface of his vocal cords, producing a very soft, tentative sound: "...Ah."

After the sound came out, he was stunned for a moment.

Because that "ah" was more stable and cleaner than he had expected.

There were no stutters or irritations; the airflow passed smoothly through the throat without any bumps.

He spoke a few more words to the window: "...Ah...Oh...Uh..."

After he finished speaking, he found it funny, like a child learning to speak.

He stood by the window and said a few more words, the content of which was meaningless: "The weather is nice today. The sun is shining. The temperature shouldn't be too high. Dancing should be very comfortable."

He laughed after saying the last sentence, his voice muffled in his throat, taking a turn, carrying a hint of newly regained clarity.

Then he stopped, took a sip of warm water, and felt the reaction of his vocal cords—it didn't hurt, it wasn't tight, and it didn't have that rough feeling of being sanded.

Okay, that's a wrap.

Over the next few days, his vocal exercises gradually evolved from monosyllables to complete sentences, but the content remained utterly devoid of substance.

Looking out the window this morning, I said, "It's another sunny day. Doesn't it rain in Los Angeles? It's been like this for days."

While washing up, look in the mirror and say, "Your hair has grown too long; it needs a trim."

Standing in the kitchen waiting for the water to boil, he looked at the white steam rising from the kettle and said, "...This water is boiling way too slowly."

The first time Jiang Yanbai heard him talking to himself in the kitchen was on the morning of the third day after He Xu regained his voice.

He came downstairs in his pajamas, still half asleep, to pour himself a cup of coffee.

As soon as I reached the kitchen doorway, I heard a very serious, emotionless comment from inside: "This kettle is no good. It boils water too slowly, the design is flawed, it should be replaced."

Jiang Yanbai stood at the door, holding an empty cup, his expression blank for three seconds.

He Xu turned his head and glanced at him: "What are you doing standing there?"

Jiang Yanbai did not answer that question.

He walked into the kitchen, put down the cup, rested his hands on the edge of the counter, and looked at He Xu: "You were... talking to the kettle just now?"

"I didn't talk to the kettle," He Xu said flatly. "I'm not a Disney princess who can talk to a kettle spirit—but it does boil slowly."

"Talking to yourself?" Jiang Yanbai looked at him, remained silent for a while, and then his smile began to falter. "You've never done this before, have you?"

He Xu rolled his eyes, too lazy to continue talking to him, and turned to leave without even pouring water, leaving Jiang Yanbai behind laughing to death.

After that, Jiang Yanbai began to collect He Xu's "meaningless remarks" intentionally or unintentionally.

On the first day, he overheard He Xu saying to the TV in the living room, "This movie is terrible. The pacing is too slow."

The next day, as he passed He Xu's room in the corridor, he heard someone inside say, "Why are these cuffs a little tight? Did they shrink after washing?"

On the third day, He Xu stood by the pool in the backyard, looked at the water, and said, "Won't this water get cold?"

Jiang Yanbai sat behind the floor-to-ceiling window in the living room, and heard the words clearly through a glass door.

He put down his phone and shouted, "You've been standing there talking for ages, why don't you go swim instead?"

He Xu turned his head to look at him: "What I say is none of your business!"

"You say things so others can hear them. I heard it, so how is it none of my business?"

He Xu glared at him and retorted directly, "If you're so free, you can go to work. I'll talk to Jen and get you more work scheduled."

Jiang Yanbai was speechless, and could only show a hurt and abstract expression.

(ಥ_ಥ)

"...I can't argue with you," he finally managed to say.

He Xu leaned back on the armrest of a poolside lounge chair, arms crossed, his posture as languid as a cat basking in the sun: "When have you ever been able to out-argue me?"

"When you can't speak."

"But you never said anything about me."

"You used to need paper to curse people, but at least I didn't lose in terms of momentum."

He Xu looked at him, a slight smile playing on his lips: "Then why aren't you as imposing as you are now?"

Jiang Yanbai opened his mouth, then closed it again.

He found himself truly speechless.

Because He Xu's voice sounds so good now.

That voice, paired with that "Are you done yet?" expression, was more than three times more offensive.

"...Xiao Xu, I suddenly realized...it's actually quite nice when you can't speak..."

He Xu: (╯°Д°)╯︵┴┴

The cat was furious.

The cat flipped the table.