Mu Yuting gazed at her reflection in the mirror—her twenty-five-year-old self, with a new hairstyle and attire, a completely renewed version of herself.
How wonderful it is to be young. How wonderful it is to be single. To be able to take control of her own destiny, do what she loves, and strive for her future—it truly felt great.
Teacher Wang had gifted her a beautiful pair of tortoiseshell plectrums, seemingly reminiscing about something, and said slowly, "No matter when, remember your identity—not just as an ordinary guzheng teacher, but also as a bearer of aesthetics and art."
"Maintaining a proper appearance and demeanor at all times is also the greatest respect for the art of the guzheng."
"What our music school needs is a guzheng teacher, yet not just a guzheng teacher."
Teacher Wang had said these words to every candidate, but only Mu Yuting took them to heart.
Mu Yuting thought she would always remember this lesson, and she would remember this beautiful and principled woman.
She knew that Teacher Wang ran a guzheng school, taught aesthetics and art, enjoyed life, and fulfilled dreams—not merely to make money.
After school, students from the nearby elementary school came one after another to practice the guzheng. It had been over three months since the semester started, and after a period of training, they were all very well-behaved. They entered, chose their instruments, sat down, wrapped their plectrums on their own, and began to practice.
There were over a dozen students, all girls. Most were beginners, only able to play simple études like "Little Lamb," "Gentle Rain," and "One Cent." The music was initially a bit chaotic, but after a few rounds of practice, it gradually took on the feel of an ensemble, quite endearing.
Weekday evenings were for practice, with students mainly reviewing the pieces learned in the previous Saturday's new lesson, guided by the teacher to correct mistakes. The teacher occasionally led them in ensemble playing to cultivate their musical sense.
Teacher Wang introduced Mu Yuting to the students, handed over the progress records, then excused herself for an errand and hurried off.
Mu Yuting supervised their practice, occasionally correcting their fingering errors and demonstrating the proper techniques. She used the tortoiseshell plectrums given by Teacher Wang—the finest material for guzheng plectrums, producing a bright, clear, and pleasant tone when plucking the strings.
She thought Teacher Wang was probably a Virgo, meticulous in everything she did, with an extreme pursuit of perfection. Even her standards for guzheng plectrums were exceptionally high.
As she was leading the students in reviewing last Saturday's lesson and playing a few études together, a male parent pushed open the transparent glass door, strode over to Mu Yuting.
The male parent appeared to be in his early thirties, dressed in a suit and tie, wearing gold-rimmed glasses, looking quite refined.
"Hello, is Teacher Wang here? I'm here to get a refund for my child's registration fee," the male parent interrupted the ensemble, looking Mu Yuting up and down. "Are you the new teacher? What's your surname? Can you make decisions?"
Of course, Mu Yuting couldn't make decisions. It was her first day on the job, and she wasn't familiar with the specifics of fees and refunds. But she knew what she should do.
She asked the students to continue practicing on their own, invited the male parent to take a seat on a small sofa to the side, and offered him a cup of hot tea.
"Teacher Wang has stepped out for an errand. I'm the new teacher, surnamed Mu. May I ask your surname, sir?"
"My surname is Wu, Wu as in the character with 'mouth' and 'heaven.' My daughter is Wu Yin. She's been learning for over a year but doesn't want to continue now, so I'd like a refund." The male parent sat casually, crossing his legs, speaking assertively and raising his voice. "Yinyin, stop practicing and come here."
A short-haired girl who had been practicing the zither stood up reluctantly, leaving the guzheng behind, and moved to stand beside the man. She looked no older than ten, her pretty, delicate down jacket appearing unwashed for days, slightly soiled, and she seemed somewhat timid and withdrawn.
Mu Yuting remembered that this girl had been playing "Evening Song of the Fishing Boat," a Level 4 piece. In the music school, she was currently the highest-graded student and played the best.
Gently pulling the girl closer, Mu Yuting asked, "Yinyin, do you enjoy learning the guzheng?"
Wu Yin glanced furtively at the man and whispered, "I do. But Dad doesn’t like it."
"Mr. Wu, your daughter enjoys learning the guzheng, she has talent, and she’s doing exceptionally well. Why won’t you let her continue?" Mu Yuting asked earnestly.
Mr. Wu sneered, "Hah, what’s the use of learning this? Just a waste of money. A girl only needs to finish nine years of compulsory education. There’s no need to learn all this nonsense—it’s just throwing money away."
So, it was a case of a father favoring sons over daughters. Such situations were all too common, and teachers often couldn’t intervene.
"Can you make the decision to refund the money directly? The child’s mother paid a five-year enrollment fee upfront, and she’s only been learning for a year and three months. The remaining amount must be fully refunded." Mr. Wu’s expression grew impatient. "You training institutions are all just out to scam money."
Wu Yin lowered her eyes, unconsciously clutching the hem of her jacket, looking utterly pitiful.
Suddenly, Mu Yuting thought of a question and asked, "Since it was Wu Yin’s mother who paid the enrollment fee, why didn’t she come to request the refund?"
Hearing this, Mr. Wu adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, his expression turning strange. "The child’s mother died a few months ago. Are you asking a dead person to come refund the money? I’m her father—is there a problem with me coming to get the refund?"
Wu Yin began to cry, large tears rolling down her cheeks without a sound, only soft sobs. "Mom died, and Dad found me a new mom. Dad took all of Mom’s money and won’t let me study or learn the guzheng anymore."
Mu Yuting’s expression instantly turned cold. Another scumbag. And by the looks of it, a "phoenix man" at that.
People always say children are innocent and that mothers should sacrifice everything for them, but was the child created by the mother alone? If the mother dies, is the child left with no one to care for them? Some people simply don’t deserve to be fathers.
"You’re the teacher here. Since Teacher Wang isn’t around, I’m dealing with you! Hurry up and refund the money!" Mr. Wu glared fiercely at his child and pressed impatiently. He thought Mu Yuting looked like an obedient young girl and deliberately kept urging her, trying to force a refund.
"If you want a refund, could you show me the receipt?" Mu Yuting extended her hand.
Mr. Wu’s face darkened considerably—he didn’t have the receipt. After his wife died, he had been busy handling her bank cards and property assets, paying no attention to things like enrollment receipts. He only remembered the training fee because his daughter came here daily for guzheng lessons.
"So you won’t refund without a receipt? Such a big music school, and you’re scamming people! If you don’t refund the money today, no one here will be playing any instruments!" Mr. Wu argued unreasonably, his voice growing louder as he stood up, drawing the attention of all the students practicing nearby.
Wu Yin trembled with fear, afraid her father would hit her.
The students’ music faltered for a moment before coming to a complete stop.
Mu Yuting's expression grew even colder. She walked over and gently said to the students, "Keep practicing; I'll check on you in a moment."
Once the sound of piano playing resumed, she returned, wrapped her arms around the trembling Wu Yin, and said coolly, "Please keep your voice down, Mr. Wu. Do not disrupt our teaching order. The police station isn’t far from here."
At the mention of "police station," Mr. Wu’s expression flickered with panic, and his voice involuntarily softened. "Just refund the money. Once I get it, I’ll leave immediately."
Mu Yuting stared at him intently. "Without a receipt, how can you prove you paid five years of tuition? How about we set a time to discuss this after Teacher Wang returns?"
"No, I want my refund today!"
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