Taoist priest goes to America

"Why don't you come to my room? It's the large south-facing bedroom on the second floor. It's sunny and well-ventilated."

Looking at her face, Ang Lee saw an almost innocent and open expression, as if the invitation were nothing out of the ordinary.

"Alright," said Ang Lee. "Then I'll gladly accept your offer. Sorry to bother you."

He answered readily, and Fineria was clearly surprised that he would agree so readily. She was stunned for a moment before she reacted, and a smile bloomed on her face like fireworks.

She took a few steps forward, almost touching his arm: "This way, the stairs are at the end of the corridor."

The two of them, one on the left and one on the right, almost touching each other, stepped out of the room. The stairwell was quiet, and sunlight shone in through the small window at the corner, casting a bright beam of light on the wall, in which dust motes floated slowly.

Ang Lee walked behind Finelia, his gaze sweeping over her slender back, her fluffy hair, and a small patch of bare, snow-white skin on the back of her neck.

It's really pleasing to the eye, but it's a pity that it's a symbol of sexual repression whenever Asian faces are seen.

Upon reaching the second floor, Fineria pushed open the light gray door, stepped aside, and gestured for them to proceed.

Ang Lee's first impression upon entering was its brightness.

This bedroom was much more spacious than the apartment upstairs, with large windows on two walls, half-drawn by white gauze curtains, letting in the early summer breeze, carrying the moist and fresh scent of the grass and trees in the yard.

The floor is light oak, spotless, and there's a beige leather sofa in the living room with pillows neatly arranged.

What surprised Li Andang the most was the large bookcase against the wall, a dark wooden bookshelf that was as tall as an entire wall, stretching from the floor to the ceiling, with each shelf crammed full.

The bookshelves were filled with modern Asian literature, including an English version of "The Legend of the Condor Heroes," a thread-bound copy of "Six Records of a Floating Life," and further on, "Love in a Fallen City," "Border Town," and several rows of Japanese and Korean books, all packed together like a reading room in a university library.

"Sit wherever you like," Fineria's voice came from behind.

"My place is small, but it has really good natural light, and it's very comfortable to breathe in during the summer."

Ang Lee responded and looked towards the other corner of the room.

There were piles of black violin cases of all sizes, square and round stacked together, with a guitar and a ukulele leaning against them, and a silver flute on the windowsill, reflecting colorful light in the sunlight.

Before he could take a closer look, he felt a warm breath approaching from behind.

Fineria had already pressed herself against him, her arms seemingly casually encircling his waist, her fingers resting on his forearm, and her chin gently resting on his shoulder.

"Mr. Li..." Her voice was soft and gentle, like a cat nuzzling someone with the tip of its tail.

Ang Lee subtly took half a step forward, pointed to the pile of musical instruments in the corner, and tried to distract her with a question: "So many instruments, are they all yours?"

Fineria stopped her malicious actions, followed his gaze, and then burst out laughing. She let go of his hand, turned around, and walked to the pile of violin cases. She bent down and patted one of the black leather cases, her tone full of smugness.

"Of course they're all mine."

She straightened up, put her hands on her hips, and showed off her collection.

"I've been learning these things since I was little, so I know a little bit about everything."

"Piano, violin, guitar, flute, ukulele—and this," she kicked an inconspicuous flat box in the corner, "an accordion, which I played for two years during my undergraduate years."

"Don't let my aristocratic appearance fool you, I'm very self-reliant."

"Every weekday afternoon from 3 to 5 pm, I teach students at home. The title of graduate student at the music academy is quite useful. I charge $120 per hour."

"Two students take the course back-to-back, which costs four hundred and eighty dollars a day." She raised her chin like a proud cat. "I'm not like those rich kids who only know how to ask their parents for money."

Li An listened quietly, his gaze fixed on her face. When she talked about musical instruments, her expression had a childlike, natural sense of self-satisfaction.

Okay, now we've found a tool to perfectly change the subject, which can buy time and subtly reveal information about Ischus's family.

Li An glanced around and saw a violin case lying horizontally at his feet. The lacquer was smooth and it was clear that it had been well maintained.

"What a coincidence," he said, crouching down and gently tapping the clasp of the violin case with his fingers. "I know a little about this too."

Fineria's eyes lit up immediately: "Really? You can play the violin?"

"I wouldn't call myself an expert, but I can understand it just barely." Li An looked up at her, a polite smile on his lips. "Would you mind if I gave it a try?"

"Of course I don't mind! Use it as you like!" Fineria quickly walked over, opened the violin case in a few quick movements, carefully took out the dark brown violin and handed it over, also stuffing the bow into Ang Lee's hand.

"I found this in an old shop in Boston last year; it has a very warm sound."

Li Andang took the violin, gently stroked its smooth lacquer surface, weighed it in his hand, then rested the base against his chin and placed the bow on the strings.

When Ang Lee played the first note, it did indeed feel as she described: the violin's tone was clear and mellow, with a warm and gentle quality.

He closed his eyes, his hands slowly pushing and pulling the bow, and the melody flowed from the strings. It was a simple "Air on the G String," with a relaxed rhythm and gentle undulations, occasionally slipping out a wrong note.

The morning light streamed in through the window, illuminating his eyelashes and slightly lowered profile, outlining a quiet and focused silhouette.

Fineria stood to the side, mouth agape and drooling, watching the dark brown violin held securely between Li An's shoulder and chin, watching his slender fingers, watching the frown that appeared when he played a wrong note.

Light and shadow danced across Ang Lee's face, revealing his wrist through his sleeve, his half-closed eyelids, and his lips pressed into a thin line, as if everything had frozen in the sound of the violin.

As the last note faded into the air, Li An put down his bow, opened his eyes, and looked at her.

"How was it? How was my technique?"

Fineria snapped back to reality, her ears burning as if she had been caught red-handed doing something shady.

She wiped her drool and blinked several times: "Wow, that sounds amazing! It really sounds amazing! You played it... so well!"

Her praise and enthusiasm were exaggerated; her voice was much more excited than before, and she nodded vigorously as she spoke.

Actually, this guy wasn't listening to what Li Anla was saying at all; he was just focused on watching Li Anla's violin playing.

Ang Lee smiled and carefully placed the violin back into its case. He knew his own skill level; it was only slightly above average, good enough to fool laymen, but a true professional could immediately detect his lack of basic technique.

Fineria's praise was probably mostly directed at him.

"Phinelia," he said, closing the violin case, standing up, brushing the dust off his hands, his tone becoming serious, the smile gone, "Actually, there's something I'd like to ask you for help with."

"Tell me!" The landlady was still immersed in the scene from just now, her tone light and airy.

Li Andang turned around to face her directly: "You mentioned the Carter family earlier. Actually... I've always admired the Carter family. Many of them are true military strategists who serve the country, with generations dedicating themselves to the military and silently protecting this nation."

"I read a lot of reports and biographies about them when I was in China, and I have always admired them."

"Especially since their family has many rising stars, such as the young and promising Carter Ishers, Carter Ishers..."

He paused, then adopted a pleading tone: "If your father and the Carter family have another family gathering or something like that next time... could you take me with you?"

"If possible, I would like to use my poor piano skills to put on a performance in front of important people."

"This has been my dream since I was a child..." Ang Lee's eyes reddened. He took a breath and rubbed the tears in his eyes with his fingers.

"When I was a child, I fell in love with the violin as soon as I started learning it. I dreamed that one day I would become a great violinist and everyone would come to see my performances."

"When I grew up, I realized that this kind of thing is unrealistic, and dreams can't put food on the table."

"So I gave up practicing the violin and devoted myself to studying and working, but I still ended up achieving nothing."

"Now that I'm here, I don't ask for anything more. I just want to perform my last violin piece under the watchful eyes of someone I admire..." Ang Lee looked at her with hopeful eyes, his eyes shining brightly after he had just finished crying.

Fineria was stunned, blinking twice, not expecting him to say something like that after all that buildup.

But her expression quickly changed from surprise to affection, even with a touch of maternal tenderness.

She stepped forward, raised her hand and gently patted Ang Lee's shoulder, her smile carrying a touch of genuine warmth.

"Of course, it's not difficult at all." She tilted her head, her tone light and cheerful, as if she had agreed to a trivial favor.

"I'll talk to my father about the next gathering and bring you along. But don't be too nervous, they're just ordinary people, they just happen to have the surname Carter."

Ang Lee slowly revealed a grateful smile: "Then... thank you very much."

Sunlight streamed in through the window, casting long shadows of the two people on the floor. One leaned forward, while the other remained straight and still, and the distance between them gradually shortened.

Just then, with a loud "bang," the door was suddenly pushed open without warning.