Nathalie Quinlan had already decided on her major before she arrived and didn’t hide it from him: "Traditional Chinese dicine Departnt."
Shawn Norton, however, reacted dramatically, shooting up from his seat with a darkened face, "You’re going to apply for the Traditional Chinese dicine Departnt?"
He saw that Nathalie’s expression was still casual, as if she didn’t take applying to the Traditional Chinese dicine Departnt seriously, and he frowned anxiously, "Qing University’s Traditional Chinese dicine Departnt is one of the worst departnts at Qing University. With your grades, why would you choose Traditional Chinese dicine."
He didn’t know Nathalie’s grades; he simply believed in her capabilities, that her grades couldn’t have been that bad.
After all, for soone who had managed to learn a significant portion of the konghou in just three months, a skill he himself had taken decades to master, how bad could she be at academics?
Shawn Norton took a deep breath, not wanting her to take the wrong path, and sat down massaging his temples, "You haven’t been to Beijing, so you probably don’t understand the situation at Qing University. The best departnts are the dical Departnt and the Finance Departnt, followed by the Music Departnt. Traditional Chinese dicine is a part of the dical Departnt, but it’s far inferior to the elite Clinical Departnt, and you know the dostic attitude—everyone is skeptical about Chinese dicine. Why don’t you choose the Music Departnt if you want to apply to Qing University? If you choose the Music Departnt, I can go back and be your tutor."
Qing University had repeatedly invited him to teach, but he was used to his freedom.
The university promised him maximum freedom, but what could be freer than not being a teacher?
He was just a figurehead at Qing University.
Actually, he had never spent a day there.
But if Nathalie were to study in the Music Departnt, he would go back and teach at Qing University. That is, if Nathalie was willing to apply to the Music Departnt.
Shawn Norton looked at the calm girl opposite him and showed a wry smile.
Technically, even though he had taught her the konghou for a few months, their relationship as teacher and student wasn’t exactly conventional; it was more like he unilaterally saw Nathalie as his successor.
For years, he had been searching for soone who could carry on and enhance the art of the konghou. He saw many candidates and even had many who offered themselves to him, but after screening them, he couldn’t find anyone suitable.
It wasn’t until one day at Owen Yapiter’s ho that he t Nathalie Quinlan.
Initially, he found it strange that Owen Yapiter, a significant figure in his own right, would treat a young girl with such kindness and even respect.
It wasn’t until one ti, when he was tuning his own konghou at Owen’s house and Nathalie happened to pass by, pointing out the problems with the scale he had tuned, that he realized the girl staying at Owen’s place had remarkable musical talent.
Afterwards, he taught her the konghou without charge.
And Nathalie learned.
In just three months, she absorbed decades of his knowledge like a sponge, only lacking the refinent that cos with ti.
The strength of Nathalie’s musical gift was sothing he had never seen before.
Having witnessed such a prodigy, he had no interest in any other successors, which is why he had no interest when Caryn Zachmann and Ivy Wilmar asked him to take on disciples.
Whether it was Caryn Zachmann or Ivy Wilmar’s niece, he believed no one could be more impressive than Nathalie Quinlan.
Moreover, Nathalie had another identity, known to very few; as far as he was aware, only he was in the loop—not even Owen Yapiter knew—Lighten Chaser!
"With your ability to combine the konghou with Western music, using instrunts like synthesizers and drum sets to accompany it and emphasize its lody, why not consider a musical path? With your talent, you could make a na for yourself in the rock scene, and just as well in classy music circles. As long as you want to, your future achievents will only exceed mine, not fall short..."
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