Chapter 20: Making Connections

As the final note faded, the hall erupted in enthusiastic applause. Jiang Zheng was startled from his reverie by the clapping, still enraptured by the lingering sensation of the music. At the entrance, Cheng Yingdong clenched his fists with excitement, barely restraining himself from jumping for joy in the crowded room. To be able to play like that—he was on par with some renowned pianists. The teacher he’d hired before, one with a modest reputation in musical circles, was already impressive, yet this young man surpassed him.

There were plenty of connoisseurs at the banquet. Many had attended concerts and enjoyed them, and while they might not play themselves, their appreciation was keen. When the applause died down, all eyes turned to Jiang Zheng, their gazes intense with curiosity.

Under so much attention, Jiang Zheng felt a pang of nervousness. He considered ignoring the stares to focus on his playing; after all, completing the system’s task was paramount. In an instant, he immersed himself in a state of total concentration, shutting out all distractions and losing himself in his own world.

Soon, the piano’s melody began anew. The dishes had all been served, and guests dined leisurely, savoring the music as much as the food. Most of their attention, in fact, was drawn to the performance. Jiang Zheng’s appearance at this teacher appreciation banquet had stolen the spotlight, transforming the event into his own private recital.

Yet no one voiced a complaint. To witness such a performance was, in itself, a rare delight. As piece after piece flowed from the piano, the audience gradually accustomed themselves to the music’s presence. Slowly, their focus drifted back to the banquet.

By the time the meal concluded, so had Jiang Zheng’s playing, and the voice of “task completed” resounded in his mind. He let out a quiet sigh of relief—thank goodness, the task was done.

Just as he stood to leave, someone approached him. “May I ask your name, sir?” A woman of elegant bearing, her face alight with a warm smile, stepped forward.

“My surname is Jiang,” he replied politely.

“Mr. Jiang,” she addressed him, then continued, “I wonder if you might have some free time? I would like to invite you to my home to teach my daughter piano. As for the tuition, I believe you’ll find it satisfactory.”

Jiang Zheng looked troubled at her words. “I’m sorry, but it’s not convenient for me at the moment.”

She seemed disappointed, but her smile returned. “Then perhaps another time, when it suits you. Here’s my card.” With that, she handed him her business card, which Jiang Zheng accepted and slipped into his pocket without a glance.

After she left, Jiang Zheng sighed softly. He wasn’t averse to tutoring—he’d even set up a tutoring stand on the street before. Judging by her attire and demeanor, she was clearly someone of means; teaching in such a household would surely be lucrative. The trouble was, though tempted, he dared not accept.

He had never truly learned piano; his entire performance had relied on the system’s skill. To teach others would only mislead them. Today’s task had revealed a problem: he was too dependent on the system. He’d scraped by this time by “learning and selling” on the spot, but what if he came across a task that couldn’t be handled that way? The system’s skills weren’t omnipotent. Without his own foundation, even the best system abilities would be useless.

Clearly, he needed to study and accumulate knowledge for himself to handle whatever the system threw at him. This thought lingered as he left the banquet hall.

Outside, Cheng Yingdong greeted him with a broad smile. “Mr. Jiang, your performance was outstanding.”

Jiang Zheng smiled back. “You flatter me.”

“Not at all,” Cheng replied sincerely. “I mean every word.”

They exchanged pleasantries, and Jiang Zheng didn’t notice the group of security guards in the corner of the hall, one of whom was Du Yu. Du Yu watched Jiang Zheng’s retreating figure with a complicated expression. He hadn’t expected Jiang Zheng to play so well. Though he didn’t know much about piano, it was easy to tell good from bad—and the thunderous applause said everything. Watching Jiang Zheng chatting amiably with the hotel manager, Du Yu’s feelings grew even more tangled.

After a few more words with the manager, Cheng Yingdong invited, “Mr. Jiang, you haven’t eaten yet. Come, let’s eat and talk.”

Following Cheng to his office, Jiang Zheng found dishes brought in soon after Cheng made a quick phone call. These were not the usual cafeteria fare, but restaurant-quality dishes. The boxed meals had been replaced with something far more refined, which Jiang Zheng welcomed—anything was better than canteen food, and he was genuinely hungry.

Over the meal, their conversation remained light, the topics mostly superficial and filled with polite small talk. Jiang Zheng was no match for Cheng Yingdong’s social prowess; his repertoire of pleasantries was limited, while Cheng had a hundred ways to keep the conversation lively, leaving Jiang Zheng feeling rather pleased.

When the meal ended, even before Jiang Zheng could broach the subject, Cheng said, “Let’s add each other on WeChat, Mr. Jiang, and I’ll transfer your performance fee right away.”

Jiang Zheng took out his phone and accepted the friend request. Cheng wasted no time; he promptly transferred the payment. But when Jiang Zheng saw the amount, his brows furrowed.

“Manager Cheng, did you add an extra zero by mistake?” he asked. They had agreed on a fee of one thousand, but Cheng had sent him ten thousand.

Cheng grinned, “No mistake. With your skill, a thousand would be an insult. I personally made up the difference—it’s only fitting.”

Jiang Zheng fell silent. Ten thousand was a considerable sum for him—his total savings didn’t even add up to that much.

“There’s no need for this, Manager Cheng. We agreed on one thousand, so I’ll return the extra,” Jiang Zheng insisted. Though the extra nine thousand was tempting, he didn’t feel right accepting Cheng’s generosity.

Cheng hurried to dissuade him. “Please, Mr. Jiang, if you insist on returning it, I’ll think you don’t want to be friends. You’ve helped me tremendously today, and I’d feel guilty if you didn’t accept it.”

Jiang Zheng hesitated. Sensing his uncertainty, Cheng pressed his advantage, speaking as if he couldn’t go on living if Jiang Zheng refused the money. Left with no choice, Jiang Zheng finally accepted.

Cheng beamed with satisfaction. Soon after, he excused himself, saying he had matters to attend to. Though it had taken up a good deal of his time, Cheng was pleased, not finding the time wasted at all.

Initially, Cheng Yingdong had hoped to befriend Jiang Zheng simply because of his piano talent—having more friends meant more options in a time of need. But when Jiang Zheng tried to refuse the extra payment, Cheng’s impression changed. He sensed that Jiang Zheng was destined for greater things and found himself genuinely wanting to cultivate the connection.