Amateur talent show? Top mentors are my students.

His voice wasn't loud, but it was clear enough in the quiet cafeteria.

He Xu, biting into a steamed bun, looked up at them.

His gaze swept across Shen Yiheng's face, lingered for a moment on Zhou Wei's face, then returned to his mouth and continued chewing his bun.

His expression was as indifferent as if he were looking at a group of ordinary passersby.

Shen Yiheng sighed inwardly.

He knows He Xu too well—that expression means "Don't bother me."

But Jung Jae-won clearly didn't understand.

"He Xu!" He walked straight over, his face beaming with the enthusiasm of someone discovering a new continent. "I was just looking for you! Did you compose the instrumental version of your theme song arrangement?"

He Xu swallowed the bun in his mouth, took a sip of porridge, and then slowly said, "Mmm."

"What is it made of?"

"That crappy software the production team provided."

Jung Jae-won was amused by the word "broken" in his speech, pulled over a chair and sat down, showing no intention of leaving.

"Have you studied music production before?"

"no."

"So how did you change it? The chord progression—the original key is C major, you lowered it by two octaves, but the underlying harmonic progression was completely changed, it wasn't a simple overall transposition."

He Xu glanced at him.

"I'll change it as instructed."

Jung Jae-won paused for a moment, then burst out laughing: "You changed it by listening? Are your ears a tuner?"

He Xu didn't reply, and lowered his head to continue drinking his porridge.

Jung Jae-won, however, showed no sign of stopping, leaning forward slightly: "Your handling of the bass register is particularly interesting. Normally, when you lower the pitch, the kick drum and bass should also lower, but you retained the high-frequency percussion of the original piece and only lowered the low frequencies."

"Did you figure this out on your own, or did someone teach you?"

"Nobody taught me."

"So how did you come up with that idea?"

He Xu looked up at him, her eyes filled with an impatience that seemed to say, "Can't you let me eat in peace?"

"I figured it out by trying," he said, then picked up the bowl of porridge and took a big gulp, the action clearly signaling, "I don't want to talk about this anymore."

But Jung Jae-won clearly did not receive this signal.

Or rather, it was received but chosen to be ignored.

"You figured it out through trial and error? How many times did you try?" he pressed, his voice carrying the excitement typical of a professional encountering a promising talent.

He Xu put down the bowl of porridge, placed the chopsticks on the rim of the bowl, and made a soft, moderate sound.

"Teacher Zheng," his voice was hoarse and low, his tone as calm as a still lake, "Have you eaten?"

Jung Jae-won was taken aback by this unexpected question.

"No, not yet..."

"Then please eat first." He Xu stood up, picked up his plate, and said, "We can talk after you finish eating. I won't bother you any longer."

After saying that, he turned and left.

There was still half a bowl of porridge left on the plate, the steamed bun had been taken a couple of times, and the pickled vegetables were barely touched.

Jung Jae-won sat in the chair, his expression changing from enthusiasm to bewilderment, and then from bewilderment to a mixture of amusement and exasperation.

"This kid..." He shook his head, then turned to look at the instructors behind him. "He's got quite a temper, isn't he?"

Shen Yiheng stood three steps away, his lips twitching slightly.

He certainly couldn't say, "He used to be even more temperamental towards me."

Xu Shutong lowered her head, pretending to study the score sheet in her hand, her shoulders trembling slightly.

Jin Xian remained calm, picked up a cup of coffee, and sat down next to Zheng Zaiyuan, saying in a nonchalant tone, "They're having a meal, and you're disturbing them. If I were in their shoes, I would have left too."

Jung Jae-won was speechless for a moment, touched his nose, and awkwardly shut his mouth.

Taking advantage of this moment, Shen Yiheng quietly took half a step back.

"I'm going to the restroom," he said casually, as if he were recounting a trivial matter.

Xu Shutong looked up at him, a hint of understanding flashing in her eyes, but she said nothing and looked down at the score sheet again.

Shen Yiheng turned and walked out of the cafeteria, his steps unhurried but his direction precise—the corner of the corridor where He Xu had disappeared.

There was no one else in the corridor.

He Xu did not go far.

He leaned against the windowsill at the end of the corridor, still holding the half-eaten bun in his hand, slowly chewing it.

Sunlight streamed in through the window, illuminating half of his face while the other half remained in shadow.

When Shen Yiheng walked over, He Xu didn't even look up.

"Why did you follow me?" His voice was muffled by the filling of the steamed bun. "Are you worried I'll starve?"

Shen Yiheng stood next to him, his hands in his pockets, looking relaxed.

"Whether you starve or not is none of my business," he said, his tone carrying a casualness cultivated over many years. "But if you don't give Teacher Zheng face, that's none of my business."

"I didn't curse him." He Xu stuffed the last bite of the steamed bun into his mouth, chewed it twice, and swallowed it. "I just came out to eat."

"What's the difference between eating in the cafeteria and eating in the hallway?"

"Quiet."

"You think it's too noisy?" He leaned against the other side of the windowsill, turning his head to look at He Xu. "You think you can avoid Teacher Zheng but you can avoid me?"

"I wasn't trying to hide," He Xu said, wiping his hands with a tissue. "I just came out for some fresh air."

A few seconds later, He Xu suddenly coughed twice—the sound was not loud, but muffled in his chest, as if there was something stuck in his throat.

Shen Yiheng's gaze immediately fell on him.

He waited until He Xu finished coughing before speaking, his voice a little softer than before: "Does your throat still hurt?"

"It doesn't hurt," He Xu said.

"Then why are you coughing?"

"itch."

"Isn't an itchy throat a precursor to pain?"

He Xu turned his head and glanced at him, his eyes filled with a scrutinizing look that seemed to say, "When did you become so long-winded?"

"Yiheng," his voice was hoarse and deep, but his tone carried a familiar, nonchalant laziness, "you used to be my student, now you're my PD, but you can't be my babysitter."

Shen Yiheng smiled.

"Fine, I'm not your babysitter." He shifted his crossed legs, "but I need to ask you about that theme song."

He Xu leaned back in his chair, neither responding nor refusing.

"Did you change the accompaniment yourself?" Shen Yiheng asked, his tone much more casual than Zheng Zaiyuan's, without any probing questions, more like gossiping.

"Didn't Zheng Zaiyuan just ask that?" He Xu said.

"He asked his questions, and I asked mine." Shen Yiheng tilted his head to look at him. "He asked you because he was curious, and I asked you because of the version you changed. The rhythm of the chorus is different from the original version—you moved the downbeat half a beat back."

He Xu glanced at him, and there was something different in his eyes.

It's a kind of recognition that says, "You actually recognized it, kid."

"Hmm," he said.

Why?

"The original version had too many repetitive beats," He Xu said in a low, husky voice. "After lowering the pitch, the low frequencies were already heavy, and with such a dense array of repetitive beats, everything just became a mess. We moved it back half a beat to give the low frequencies some space."

After listening, Shen Yiheng remained silent for a while.

Then he laughed.

"What's with that expression?" He Xu glanced at him with disdain.

"It's nothing." Shen Yiheng shook his head, a smile still playing on his lips. "I just felt—you said you came because you were bored, but you even changed the accompaniment yourself. If you were serious, would you take on all the work for the entire production team?"

He Xu ignored him.

Shen Yiheng didn't seem to mind and continued, "However, Professor Zhou Wei doesn't quite approve of your version. You know that, right?"

"I know." He Xu's voice was flat. "He probably didn't give me a high score when he was giving me the evaluation."

How did you know?

"If he had given you a high score, you wouldn't have come to talk to me about this today." He Xu turned his head and glanced at him. "You would have just congratulated me directly."

Shen Yiheng was stunned by those words, then burst out laughing.

The laughter wasn't loud, but it could be heard clearly in the quiet corridor.

"Teacher," he smiled and shook his head, "you really—"

Footsteps interrupted him.

He Xu and Shen Yiheng turned their heads at the same time.

A figure emerged from around the corner.

Zhou Wei.

He was holding a folder in his hand, walking at a leisurely pace, clearly not just passing by.

His steps faltered when his gaze fell upon the two people at the end of the corridor.

He Xu leaned against the windowsill, and Shen Yiheng stood next to him. The two were very close, and their posture was as casual as that of old friends who had known each other for a long time.

Shen Yiheng's expression stiffened for a moment.

He Xu didn't change much; he didn't even straighten up from the windowsill, just lazily watching Zhou Wei walk over.

"PD." Zhou Wei nodded, his voice calm.

"Teacher Zhou." Shen Yiheng's voice returned to PD mode, steady and appropriate, without any flaws.

Zhou Wei's gaze lingered between the two for a second before settling on He Xu.

"Perfect timing, that's exactly what I was looking for."