School lets out at six, and evening self-study runs from eight to ten. But attendance isn’t mandatory—it’s totally voluntary. Ian Song used to skip it out of laziness, but now he simply doesn’t need it.
So, why not make use of these two free hours? At fifty yuan an hour, that’s three thousand yuan a month.
There are three months until the college entrance exam. If he lands the job, he’ll earn nine thousand yuan—enough to cover university expenses. That way, he won’t have to endure his aunt’s attitude anymore.
With that thought, Ian headed toward the café.
“Welcome back, sir.”
A waitress in a maid uniform bowed to him politely.
“Hello, I saw your job ad for a pianist outside. I’m here to apply.”
As he spoke, Ian took in the café’s decor. The place was cozy and stylish, with only a handful of customers—three or five small groups. In the center stood a small stage with a pure white piano, soft piano music playing through the speakers. It was the kind of spot urban white-collar workers with a taste for the finer things would love.
The waitress hesitated slightly and said, “Please wait a moment. I’ll go report to the boss.”
In less than three minutes, the waitress returned, smiling as she said, “Our boss is available right now. Please come with me.”
Ian followed the waitress to an office with its door open. She pointed inside and whispered, “Go on in.”
“Thank you,” Ian said to the waitress. He glanced into the office, which was spacious and filled with a faint, pleasant fragrance.
A white laptop sat on the desk, and a stunning woman was typing away in front of it.
Is this woman really the boss? She’s actually even prettier than Miss Hannah Han. Ian was a little surprised and raised his hand to knock.
But just as he lifted his hand, the woman stopped what she was doing, looked up, and said, “Come in.” After Ian stepped inside, she gestured to the sofa: “Please, have a seat.”
“Thank you.”
After sitting down, Ian got straight to the point: “Hello, I’m here to apply for the pianist job.”
“I know. Ying already told me.” As she spoke, the woman’s gaze swept over Ian, and then her sexy lips curled into a slight smile. “You’re still a student, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I’m a student at Saint Night High School.” Ian nodded.
“Saint Night High School!” The woman looked surprised. “That’s the best school in the province.”
Hearing the woman say that, Ian suddenly felt like he was showing off on purpose. He got a little embarrassed and said, “My grades aren’t that good.”
“You’re very honest.” The woman chuckled softly. The moment she smiled, a wave of mature allure radiated from her—deadly for a teenage boy like Ian. For a second, he was totally dazed.
But Ian quickly realized he was making a fool of himself and hurriedly looked away, not daring to stare.
"Hehe!"
The woman let out a gentle laugh, clearly not bothered at all by Ian’s awkwardness. With interest, she asked, “What’s your name?”
“Ian Song.”
“Alright, Ian Song, can you tell me why you want to apply for the job here?”
With no interview experience, Ian hesitated slightly and said, “In three months, I’ll be starting university. I want to earn my tuition during this time.”
“Such a cute little brother—I’m starting to like you already.” The woman chuckled again. “But my clientele are mostly urban white-collar workers, so my standards for a pianist are pretty high.”
Her tone was tactful, but Ian could tell she was turning him down.
He wasn’t upset by this. Instead, he lifted his head, looked her in the eye, and said confidently, “I think I can do it.”
The woman was stunned for a moment, then her brows furrowed slightly. After hesitating a bit, she said, “I’ll give you a chance. Go play a piece in the main hall. If at least half the customers applaud, I’ll hire you.”
“Alright.”
Ian got up and headed for the main hall. With the Piano Master skill, he was sure he could handle a café pianist’s job.
“Pretty confident, aren’t you?” The woman laughed again.
Ian walked straight to the white piano, lifted the lid, and sat down. Though he’d never touched the black-and-white keys before, they felt strangely familiar.
Just then, the beautiful boss Mira Su spoke up: “Everyone, this student named Ian Song is going to play a piece for you. If you enjoy it, please give him a round of applause.”
“As long as it sounds good, we won’t be stingy with applause.” a male customer replied. He was really just giving Mira Su face—he didn’t expect much from Ian.
“Go for it, kid!” another female customer said with a smile.
“Thank you.” Ian stood and bowed to the tables. “The piece I’m about to play is called ‘Refrain.’ I hope you’ll like it.”
After speaking, he took a deep breath, sat back down, and placed his hands on the black-and-white keys.
Hearing the name of the piece, Mira Su was puzzled. She’d loved piano music since childhood and had heard nearly every famous, beautiful composition, but this was the first time she’d ever heard of ‘Refrain.’
Is it his own original work? For a moment, she became genuinely interested in Ian.
Without any warning, Ian’s fingers began to dance nimbly over the keys, and a stream of gently sorrowful notes flowed out from beneath his hands.
At that moment, Mira Su froze, then gently closed her eyes and listened to the music with just her ears.
The customers who hadn’t expected Ian to play anything beautiful all stopped talking as soon as they heard the sorrowful melody, quietly enjoying the music.
‘Refrain’ means restraint or holding back. It’s one of the ten bonus compositions Ian received with the Piano Master skill.
The theme of the piece is ‘missing out,’ which gives it an indescribable sadness.
At first, Ian was shocked that he could play something so beautiful and moving, but soon he was completely immersed in the piece’s artistic conception:
Love is truly precious only in a heart that knows how to restrain itself and wait. A life that can’t endure the winter doesn’t deserve the spring sunlight. Sometimes, being a stubborn fool who waits for happiness is exactly what leads to it; only by clinging to belief can you avoid missing out.
Was it sorrow? Or was it something moving?
Ian couldn’t deny that he was moved by his own playing, his heart filled with a gentle sadness, as if he’d missed out on something important in life.
As for Mira Su, who listened with her eyes closed, she was completely immersed in the music’s artistic conception. No one knew what memories the piece stirred in her, but a clear tear slipped down her cheek.
Finally, the piece ended.
Ian emerged from the sadness, exhaled deeply, but what worried him was that no applause came.
Did the piece not suit their taste? Instinctively, he turned and saw Mira Su wiping her eyes.
Just then, a burst of loud but scattered applause rang out.
A faint smile appeared on Ian’s lips—he knew he’d succeeded. Every customer in the café was applauding, even the waitstaff. He’d won them over with his music. At that moment, pride surged in his heart, and he was truly grateful he’d drawn this skill.