10 The Tenor's Vocal Coaching Challenge (3)

You arrived at the villa gate just as you did in the previous round, but this time, you didn’t park your bike far away. Instead, you rode straight up and greeted the friendly security guard on your right. As before, he asked, “You’re the tutor, right?”

It felt like conversing with a game NPC. You nodded calmly and replied, “Mr. Fu’s people must have informed you already, haven’t they?”

When he heard the name “Mr. Fu,” the last trace of his suspicion visibly eased. Without a word, he opened the gate for you. You pedaled in, entering the villa complex even faster than before.

Familiar with the path, you made your way to Villa Number Six. Parking your bike, you approached the black lacquered gate, which still had a gap about a fist wide. This time, you didn’t carefully pull out a pen to gently nudge the door open, nor did you check if anyone was inside, knowing well no one would respond.

You boldly pushed the door open to its fullest extent and stepped inside. Unlike last time, you didn’t quietly close the door behind you; instead, you closed it with a firm push, and clearly saw the golden retriever bounding down the steps, eagerly running toward you.

You didn’t step back or stoop down. Standing upright, you quietly reached into the canvas bag slung over your right shoulder with your left hand. From inside, you pulled out a milk tea, stylishly inserted a pre-unwrapped straw, and punctured the plastic seal with a crisp pop. Clutching the cup tightly with both hands, you aimed it at the golden retriever dashing toward you.

Perhaps dazzled by your smooth move, the dog noticeably slowed down, possibly assessing your intent. You fixed your gaze on it as it approached cautiously, which made its final steps even more deliberate.

Judging the distance right, you squeezed the cup hard, spraying a crimson splash of tea into the air. The dog stopped in its tracks, eyes following the arc of the tea above its head.

Taking advantage of the moment, you squeezed again several times, alternating directions to catch its attention. You splashed to the left, sprayed to the right, varying the streams in length and height.

The golden retriever happily pawed left and right at the falling droplets, much like a shower of stars. Your anxious heart gradually relaxed.

Sure enough, the dog understood your friendly intentions and abandoned its “scary” game of jumping on your shoulder.

Your idea came from a Thai drama you watched years ago, where the heroine disguised as a man worked as a servant in the male lead’s home. The golden retriever she raised always accompanied her with household chores.

Back then, you could only admire the dog’s cuteness from behind the screen. But now, seeing the complete milk tea and straw again, a sudden spark of inspiration struck you—like the dog holding a long hose to water the lawn, playing as it went.

Clever as you are, no drama is ever watched in vain!

Under the bright, radiant sun, you played with the golden retriever with a milk tea in hand, gradually hitting your stride.

The milk tea’s volume was limited, and soon no more beautiful red tea could be squeezed out. The dog panted eagerly at the cup, clearly wanting more.

But your props were limited, and you couldn’t satisfy its wish.

Regretfully, you thought that if only your roommate had bought you a large cup. Alas, there’s no “if only” in this world...

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Just as you were pondering how to refuse the dog’s sparkling, adorable gaze, a voice rang out from the direction of the steps—a tone neither happy nor angry: “Hugo!”

You looked up, squinting against the sunlight.

Atop the steps stood a man, tall and upright, casting a long, slender shadow on the gray stone stairs. He wore a short T-shirt and shorts, showing healthy wheat-colored arms. His neatly cropped short hair framed his face, but from this distance, his features were indistinct.

You were surprised—when did he get there? Was he standing there when you first arrived, or did he follow the dog out after noticing it had escaped?

Frowning, you realized you had no clue. Neither in the first round nor just now had you noticed anyone standing there. Even though you couldn’t clearly see his face against the light, you felt he was the kind of person with outstanding bone structure, impossible to overlook in a crowd.

You stood cautiously without speaking. Then, he raised his arm and waved toward you, repeating, “Hugo.”

Looking down, you saw the golden retriever—no, Hugo—who had been happily playing with you moments ago, now slowly and somewhat dejectedly trotting toward the steps, ears drooping.

You stared at Hugo’s swaying rear end and nearly burst into laughter. But quickly recovering, you followed several steps behind, heading toward the stairs.

Dog and man walked leisurely to the foot of the steps.

You looked up and finally saw his face clearly.

He was even more handsome than you expected—thick, deep brows slanting rebelliously, his gaze fierce yet alluring, with boldly defined eyes, lips, and nose.

He looked genuinely young—more boy than man.

You faced each other across the steps, exchanging glances.

You thought if he were a few years older and not so youthful, you might have been intimidated by his silent presence.

Unfortunately, you had already guessed most of his identity.

“Student Fu,” you said firmly, though it was a gamble; even if you lost, you had nothing to lose.

He mimicked your tone: “Teacher Su.”

Teacher Su?

His address startled you momentarily, reminding you of the game ID you had entered when you first started playing: “Mary Su.”

At that moment, you were glad he hadn’t called you “Mary Teacher,” or your carefully composed expression would have instantly crumbled.

Expressionless, you nodded, accepting the identity of Teacher Su.

You could see him soften the sharpness in his brows and eyes and gave you a polite smile. “Teacher Su, I’ve been waiting here for quite some time.”

You blinked, then blinked again, suspecting you had just witnessed an operatic face change.

He waved to the golden retriever standing between you. The dog obediently moved to his side. He bent down gently to stroke the dog’s head, then looked up at you again.

“Teacher, see? I wasn’t wrong. My ‘Hugo’ couldn’t wait to come and greet you as soon as he saw you.”

Strangely, in less than a minute, it felt as if your positions had reversed, not just your standing places.

From looking up at him, now he looked up at you. From this angle, you noticed his long curled lashes and the slight upward curve of his mouth when he spoke.

Though the same person, he seemed to wear a different face—or rather, a different personality. The rebellious youth you had imagined moments ago now seemed like a mere illusion. Suddenly, he appeared quite...

Well-behaved.

Seeing your silence, he turned to speak to “Hugo,” sitting by his leg, gently patting the dog’s head. You instinctively followed his gaze.

He deliberately lowered his clear youthful voice, saying, “See? I told you to behave. You scared Teacher Su. Now apologize to Teacher Su.”

Perhaps out of the friendship you had just shared with Hugo or simply polite social manners, you waved him off and said to the pair, “It’s alright, it’s not Hugo’s fault.”

“Teacher Su, you’re really magnanimous,” he said, looking up at you with a bright smile that made his lips look even redder in the sunlight. “If I happen to upset you later, you can’t be biased—you have to forgive me once too.”

You couldn’t quite put your feelings into words.

You knew he was just an 18-year-old senior high school student, but there was something inscrutable about him. You didn’t quite know how to address him.

You had intended to be a strict teacher, but his youthful, blossoming smile disarmed your stern demeanor.

Moreover, you’d never encountered such an attractive member of the opposite sex speaking to you so affectionately and coquettishly. Your usually inarticulate self was completely flustered.

Your frozen mind stiffly nodded, the last shred of reason urging you to start the lesson. “Student Fu, right?”

“Right.” He smiled, eyes crinkling happily, as if delighted you knew his name.

Avoiding his brilliant gaze, you cleared your throat. “Let’s start the lesson.”

“Okay.”

You stared at the gray stone steps beneath your feet and asked, “Where will the lesson be?”

“Seeing Teacher Su got me so excited, I almost forgot that.” He stood and stepped aside, pointing behind him. “My study is on the second floor.”

You glanced in the direction he indicated, seeing a door.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught him winking at you before he lowered his voice slightly: “Of course, if the teacher wants to have class in my room, that’s fine too.”

Surprised, you turned to look at him.

So the real challenge in this stage was male charm.

A test of your teacher’s ethics?

For other tests, you might have worried, but you were confident in your own morality.

“Punctual attendance, no early departures, attentive in class, diligent homework, kindness and unity with classmates...” These had been the consistent remarks in your elementary school teacher evaluations over six years.

You had always been a model student—morally upright in every way. Although this was your first experience testing your “teacher ethics,” you believed you could handle it.

Besides, he was just a high school boy, not a man in your eyes. When you were in middle school, he was still in elementary school; middle schoolers never looked at elementary school kids!

With that thought, you stepped forward confidently, pushing past him standing in the middle of the path, striding toward the front door.

Head held high, you ordered without looking back, “Student Fu, keep up.”

“Okay, Teacher Su,” he replied obediently.

You heard footsteps behind you—one human, one dog—following closely. You placed your hand on the doorknob, pressed down hard, and opened the door, stepping over the threshold.

Unexpectedly, a bucket of cold water suddenly poured over your head, drenching you completely.