Yan Ruanning was taken aback upon hearing this.
She simply wanted to show Cheng Che her beloved treasure.
This is the recording studio.
She put so much effort into decorating and furnishing the place; not to show off, but at least to let him see what she had accumulated over the years.
He then said he wanted to study music.
She glanced down at the textbook in her hand.
The cover was frayed from being turned over so many times, there were several creases on the spine, and the corners of the pages were curled up badly.
It's clearly not something that was just put on a temporary show.
Moreover, Teacher Yan...
Yan Ruanning was startled by this title.
She fanned herself with her hand, pursed her lips, and cleared her throat.
"Sure," she said. "Let me test you first."
The two sat down next to the control panel.
Yan Ruanning opened the textbook and started asking questions from the very basics.
From the staff, note values, and interval relationships, to chord formation, mode changes, and rhythmic patterns.
She asked questions slowly, one after another, allowing ample time for reflection in between.
Cheng Che answered fluently.
Occasionally, when he encounters a situation that requires deduction, he will go through it in his mind and then give the answer.
On several occasions, when Yan Ruanning deliberately asked a slightly off-topic question, he would first correct her premise before answering the question.
A moment later, Yan Ruanning closed the book, her expression changing from tentative to surprised.
How long have you been studying?
Cheng Che thought for a moment, "It started on the day I registered at school."
Yan Ruanning remained silent for two seconds.
It's been less than ten days since I reported for duty.
She stared at him for a long time, her mind racing with only one thought: What kind of monster are you?!
In less than ten days, I learned the basics of music theory to this extent.
It's important to know that most music students spend one or two months just mastering the staff notation and basic music theory, let alone chord progressions and mode conversions.
There are no shortcuts to these things; you can only hone them through repeated mental practice.
But he doesn't seem to need grinding.
Yan Ruanning sighed inwardly.
She couldn't think of any other explanation besides talent.
However, she was also somewhat happy.
If both people understand music, they'll have more in common.
In the past, her conversations with Cheng Che mostly revolved around work, life, and everyday trivia.
Those are fine, of course, but if we can talk about music, that's a completely different story.
She looked down and flipped through the textbook, then looked up:
"Then go and call Xiao Zhou, tell her to bring me some food upstairs. Hmm... and also bring a whiteboard upstairs."
Cheng Che's expression turned strange.
"You want a cane? Can't you just say so directly?"
Yan Ruanning glanced at him matter-of-factly. "What's wrong? How can a teacher explain a problem without a whiteboard?"
Cheng Che thought for a moment.
Her father, Old Xu, was a teacher for decades; there's probably a family tradition of this.
He nodded, stood up, and left the recording studio.
Yan Ruanning watched his figure disappear through the door, then lowered her head and opened the textbook.
She turned the pages slowly, starting from the first page and reading them one by one.
Cheng Che's notes were very detailed, with his own annotations and deductions next to each knowledge point.
The handwriting is neat and the organization is clear.
She stopped when she turned to page forty-seven.
There is a line of text in the margin of the page.
The handwriting is elegant, with fine strokes, conveying a sense of deliberate neatness.
It's clearly a woman's handwriting.
Yan Ruanning narrowed her eyes.
She stared at the line of text for two seconds, then calmly closed the book and placed it aside.
She didn't go back to read it a second time, nor did she intend to ask Cheng Che who wrote it.
But she remembered it in her heart.
The handwriting is delicate, with fine strokes, and neat but not very skillful; the person is probably not very old.
A slight smile played at the corners of her lips.
Yan Ruanning is not afraid of any opponent.
Cheng Che led two staff members upstairs.
They carried a portable whiteboard, placed it in a corner of the recording studio, and then left.
As they went downstairs, the two staff members couldn't help but start whispering among themselves.
"Wasn't that the top Zhuangyuan in the college entrance exam who had a rumored affair with the boss?" The first person lowered their voice, "Wow, it wasn't a rumor after all."
The second person shook their head:
"Don't talk nonsense. Besides, if they really did talk, she'd be our boss's wife. How dare you gossip like that?"
The first one disagreed:
"What boss lady? They're just dating, not married."
The second one analyzed with a smile:
"Heh, young, strong, and handsome—the female employees in the studio are still talking about him. Their computer desktop wallpapers are all of Cheng Che. And it's rumored that Cheng Che is the boss's father's favorite student. With that kind of relationship, heh, how could they not be together?"
"Don't you understand the power of parents, young man?"
The two were about to continue their conversation when they reached the corner on the first floor and saw Xiao Zhou.
Xiao Zhou leaned against the wall, holding a cup of coffee, watching them.
Both of them shut up at the same time.
Although Xiao Zhou is an assistant, she will soon be replacing Yan Ruanning's original manager and becoming her new manager.
The news had already spread within the studio, and no one dared to offend her.
"Are you done talking?"
Xiao Zhou took a sip of coffee, his tone calm, but it made the two of them feel very serious.
" Sister Zhou, we..."
"Don't talk nonsense," Xiao Zhou interrupted them. "You all know what kind of person the boss is. If this gets out and damages his reputation, we'll have to spend money to refute it. That money will be deducted from your wages."
The two of them were startled.
Workers fear nothing but making mistakes and not getting paid.
"Don't worry, Sister Zhou, we'll absolutely keep it a secret!"
"Not a single word will be uttered!"
The two men gave their assurances repeatedly and then left in a hurry.
Xiao Zhou watched them walk away and sighed.
She put down her coffee, took out her phone, and scrolled through her recent schedule and public opinion monitoring data.
Yan Ruanning has always been very popular, especially after the rumors about her and Cheng Che spread, her studio has been receiving non-stop calls.
Some were legitimate business dealings, some were media probes, and some were pure gossip.
If paparazzi were to photograph them entering and leaving together, the topic would trend on social media for at least three days.
Xiao Zhou paused his finger on the screen for a moment, then muttered to himself, "Should I rent another place? A cunning rabbit needs three burrows, just in case the paparazzi find out."
She put her phone away and went upstairs.
In the recording studio, Yan Ruanning had already put the textbook back in its original place.
She sat at the control panel, with several musical notes and chord markings written on the whiteboard in front of her.
Cheng Che sat next to her, holding a pen and taking notes.
Xiao Zhou pushed the door open, put the food on the table, glanced at the two of them, said nothing, and left.
Yan Ruanning picked up a cookie, took a bite, and then tapped the whiteboard with her pen.
"Starting today," she said, "I'll be your music teacher. Two lessons a week, two hours each time. Homework must be done on time; no slacking off is allowed."
Cheng Che nodded. "Okay."
"And one more thing," Yan Ruanning took another bite of her cookie, her gaze falling on the textbook, her tone casual, "If there's anything you don't understand in that book, just ask me. Different people have different teaching methods; too many different approaches can hinder absorption."
Cheng Che was taken aback.
Although he didn't understand what it meant, he nodded anyway. "Okay."
Yan Ruanning finished the biscuit with satisfaction, picked up a pen, and wrote the first lesson of the day on the whiteboard.
"Let's start with chords."