Close Enough To Pluck the Stars” (GL) - Chapter 28

Chapter 28

“Stop pretending! If you aren’t honest, you’ll get a spanking,” Liang Jiyue said. “I just arrived at the hotel today, and my old colleagues have been calling one after another. Everyone is quite riled up—they’re all calling to file complaints against you.”

“What did I do? I’m an employee of the Research Institute. If I skip work, it’s Dr. Shu’s call to make. What does it have to do with those old fossils at your Conservatory?” Liang Ke argued.

“Oh, so you did skip work?” Liang Jiyue became serious.

“It was a leave of absence,” Liang Ke corrected her hastily.

“Why aren’t you going to work? Did you have a falling out with your leader?”

Liang Ke admitted there was some friction, but that wasn’t why she took leave.

“What did you do to Dr. Shu?”

“Me? Considering her beauty and wisdom, and her absolute, invincible status in our lab, what could I possibly do to her? It’s more like, what did she do to me.”

“Mmh. So you’re longing for it?”

“I am not!” Liang Ke roared.

“It’s normal to have longings.”

“Is it? Heh, your way of thinking is quite progressive for an ‘old fossil’.”

“Of course. I’ve taught at an arts college for forty years; what haven’t I seen?” Liang Jiyue paused for a few seconds, then said dismissively, “But you’re dreaming.”

“Are you my biological grandmother?” Liang Ke asked.

“Your adoptive grand-aunt. But don’t call me that; it sounds old.”

“Right. So, in the midst of your busy schedule, did you call specifically to crush my spirit?”

Liang Jiyue smiled on the other end of the line. She said, “Liang Ke, I like to think I have an eye for talent. I’ve trained countless outstanding young musicians for this country over the decades. Now that I’m about to retire, I’ve discovered that a true talent has been right in my own home, lurking by my side for twenty years.”

“Talent? Me? Do you have a fever? Are you delirious from a high temperature?” Liang Ke asked in rapid succession.

“Alright, alright, I know everything. You went to our school to practice today, and even the Principal was alerted. They called me to ask me to persuade you to quit your current job, say goodbye to ‘CPUs,’ pick up your bow, and step onto a broader stage.”

“You certainly know a lot. But my job isn’t just ‘CPUs’.”

“Oh? What else is there?”

“There are also ‘GPUs’ and ‘FPGAs.’ Besides, is a violin bow even something I’m allowed to touch? Every time I picked it up, you’d hit me.”

“Oh, that was in the past. They played me a clip of you practicing, and I was deeply shocked. I shouldn’t have sent you to school; I should have locked you at home to practice twenty hours a day…”

“Grandma, forget it,” Liang Ke interrupted Liang Jiyue’s grand fantasy with a calm, deep voice. “Every step of your plan is illegal. You absolutely cannot implement it, lest you cause trouble for the nation’s judicial system. Besides, you should know better than anyone what my playing level is. They’re scamming you.”

But what would be their motive? To deceive a soon-to-be-retired old professor?

Liang Ke frowned in thought. Suddenly, a spark of realization lit up between her brows. She looked firmly at Little B: “I know where Little A is!”

“Where?”

“At your school, committing fraud under my name!” Liang Ke said.

The two of them quickly ran to Fengming Building. Since Little B was a star lecturer at the school, many people recognized her. Along the way, students kept greeting her.

“Hello, Teacher.”

“Hello.”

“Teacher, your style of dress is very special today.”

“Yes! It’s not your usual style. It’s so fresh, sunny, and youthful!”

“Thank you,” Little B said, before pulling off the coat, tossing it back to Liang Ke (covering her face in the process), and pointing. “It’s hers.”

An exceptionally brave girl blocked her path: “Teacher, who is the beautiful girl next to you? I’d like her contact info.”

Liang Ke gave a shy smile.

Little B didn’t speak. Instead, she looked urgently at the monitor in the practice room security booth. Every room had a name and student ID registered.

“Liang Ke. Room 23, 5th Floor,” she said.

“Yes, that’s it. That’s my name,” Liang Ke replied with a determined look.

The girl’s pupils dilated instantly. she cried out, “You—you’re the Liang Ke everyone’s talking about!”

“I used to be,” Liang Ke said, moving the girl’s pointing finger away and smiling. “But I’m afraid I’ll have to change my name from now on.”

Suddenly, they were surrounded. Several teachers were in the booth, listening to the audio-only monitor of Room 23 as if they were drinking divine nectar. They all turned to look.

One of them even praised: “Liang Jiyue is truly too modest. She always told me Liang Ke’s playing sounded like an orangutan. What kind of species of orangutan must that be?”

“An alien orangutan.”

“I’d say a violin that’s achieved sentience.”

The Principal had a more long-term vision. She said, “Regardless, we must find someone to talk to Liang Jiyue. Have her convince Liang Ke to resign. Our music education needs such talent. It doesn’t matter if the Institute won’t let her go; I can talk to Zhang Zhang. Let’s see if he’ll give his old comrade-in-arms some face.” With that, she stood up to make a call.

As everyone chatted and walked out, an old professor who often visited Liang Jiyue’s home naturally recognized Liang Ke. He greeted her warmly: “You’ve come out! Young people have potential; don’t be shackled by scientific research. With your strength, you can choose a new direction in life.”

Another chimed in, “Exactly. Set sail and head forward; any path can lead to the stars and the sea.”

Liang Ke remained silent, her face darkened with frustration.

Yet, the music from Practice Room 23 continued—soaring, passionate, and relentless.

The teachers fell silent too.

The little cat Liang Ke is right here. Then who is playing the violin? An alien orangutan?

Little B and Liang Ke transformed into a blur of motion, bursting through the crowd.

The elevator was too slow; they took the fire stairs.

Running up five floors was a grueling physical task. The “Calico Cat” won, lunging at the door of Room 23 and pounding on it.

“Open up! Open the door!” The Cat was so exhausted she could barely lift her paws. At this moment, she felt like she was in a classic tragic drama.

Just then, a piano teacher walked by. She disdainfully peeled Liang Ke off the door and pointed to a red button. “There’s an emergency release right here. Can’t you read? How did you get into college?”

“Th… thank you,” Liang Ke whispered. She had never taken the National College Entrance Exam (Gaokao), not even a mock one, so she couldn’t argue with the last part.

“You aren’t from our school,” the teacher noted warily.

“I… I am. A faculty family member.”

“Oh.” The teacher softened. “Whose family? Which department?”

But by then, Little B had caught up. Her eyes flashed with a murderous glint behind her glasses. The teacher didn’t dare say another word and instead helped them open the door.

As the door opened, the music stopped abruptly on a soaring high note.

Little A stood with her back to them, holding the bow.

Liang Ke had played for twenty years—and although her skill was that of an “orangutan”—she could tell a string had snapped.

Little B was speechless; her journey of worry was replaced by a different emotion.

Little A set down the violin with the broken string and curled into a ball on the floor, hugging her knees.

“Go on, comfort her,” Liang Ke nudged the stunned Little B. She continued in a whisper, “She needs you.”

The piano teacher was dumbfounded.

“Teacher,” Liang Ke took her arm.

“Mmh?”

“I suddenly feel like you look very familiar and kind,” Liang Ke said, leading her out and closing the door behind them.

“Is that so? Have we met?”

“It doesn’t matter if we haven’t. ‘Why must we have met before to be friends?’ right? Come, let’s find another place to chat and get to know each other, okay?”

The teacher wanted to ask who wants to be friends with you? She hesitated for a second, but her resolve was weak and she was quickly dazed by Liang Ke’s looks. While comparing Liang Ke to the photos being circulated by students in her group chats, the teacher kindly warned her, “You’re Liang Ke, right? The Violin Department has put out a ‘wanted’ notice for you.”

“Why are they looking for me?” Liang Ke pulled her further away.

“They say you stole their love and heartlessly kidnapped their cool and handsome Teacher Little B. This… what is all this?” The innocent piano teacher was a bit confused.

At that moment, Liang Ke’s phone rang. She shushed the teacher and answered.

Ye Tianze was ecstatic: “Liang Ke! Where the [expletive] are you? Something [expletive] happened!”

Liang Ke said, “What happened? Do you need me to come back?”

Ye Tianze said, “[Expletive]!”

Liang Ke said, “Put Luo Han on the phone.”

Luo Han indeed appeared quickly. She was much more civilized than Ye Tianze. She said, “Senior, it’s no big deal. If you get fired, I—I’ll leave with you.”

“HUH?!”

“I’m just afraid… afraid you won’t be able to bear leaving Dr. Shu,” Luo Han said, before putting the phone down and running away.

“HUH?!” Liang Ke said.