Chapter 63
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 63
Chapter Title: VS.
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‘Why?’
Julia was wondering.
‘Really, why?’
Normally, she didn’t dwell on things like this.
Life was too short to waste time on such matters, and her talents were too limited anyway—that had always been her philosophy.
Even so, there were two reasons she’d come here.
‘Why did the department head ask me of all people?’
One was her mentor’s request.
Her mentor rarely asked for favors, so turning down this one hadn’t been easy.
‘And why offer such an insane amount for just a month’s lessons?’
The other was the reward she’d heard about alongside the story.
It was a sum that made even Julia—who’d lived quite comfortably—doubt her ears. Enough to hire not just a top violinist, but an entire orchestra.
That outrageous amount had piqued her curiosity, and that was the real reason she’d accepted.
“You seem to have a lot of questions, Julia.”
“Was it that obvious?”
“I’m pretty good at reading people.”
From her neatly pinned-up black hair to her silk dress, and that oddly mature air contrasting her youthful face.
Li Chingwei was a beautiful girl who embodied the mystique unique to the East. She smiled faintly and added,
“The previous visitors were curious too, though.”
“So I’m not the first, huh.”
“You guessed.”
“There’s usually a standard reason for offering this much money for something like this.”
Julia said it plainly.
Then, with genuine curiosity, she turned to Li Chingwei.
“Out of curiosity, how many people have come before me?”
“You’re the third.”
“That’s unexpected.”
“Too few, or too many?”
“Too few. The terms were so generous, I figured I was like the hundredth person they’d called in.”
Julia’s half-joking remark was also half-serious. Nothing less would explain this kind of pay.
As if understanding her feelings,
Li Chingwei smiled faintly and spoke.
“Were the conditions a bit much?”
“A bit? More like way over the top. I was wondering if it was something illegal.”
‘Her identity’s just as mysterious, though.’
East Asians often looked young, but Li Chingwei seemed no older than her late teens, no matter how you sliced it.
Yet this girl had not only invited her but rented out an entire top-floor cafe at Hotel Leviathan to host her.
How could Julia not wonder who she was?
Reading Julia’s suspicion, Li Chingwei smiled again and continued.
“No dangerous or illegal requests, I promise. It’s just that you’re the only one who can do this job, so the pay reflects that.”
“There are plenty of top violinists besides me.”
“But superstars? Not so many.”
Julia didn’t bother denying it.
She might not be the absolute best performer, but she was always in the conversation for top violinist—and that was objective fact.
And among violinists, her reputation stood out for reasons beyond skill.
“No music or performance skills, and even rarer for non-players to reach that level.”
After the Iron Age dawned,
Most so-called “top” experts had fallen by the wayside.
Composers, singers, directors, finance pros, professors, doctors, lawyers—you name it. Players had snatched their spots.
Players could surpass experts just by using skills.
Yet even in this era, some held their ground through raw talent alone.
Julia Francke, the Witch of the Violin, was one such exception.
She matched top player performers without relying on skills.
“That’s a surprising reason.”
“Is it?”
“Usually, people prefer non-player performers. Learning from players is faster and more precise.”
“Yes, normally.”
Li Chingwei readily agreed.
A typical instructor might spend months gauging a student’s aptitude or potential. Players could do it with a skill.
Plus skills like <Teaching> or [Growth Boost] multiplied learning speed.
Any normal performer would want a player mentor.
“But the one who invited you this time is a bit... no, quite special.”
“Huh? Aren’t you the one who invited me?”
“If you mean who sent the invite and paid the fee, yes. But the one who wants your lessons? No.”
“I see...”
Li Chingwei’s calm reply only fueled Julia’s curiosity.
She’d met plenty of high-society types, and Li Chingwei didn’t strike her as someone who took orders—she gave them.
So naturally, Julia assumed she was the student. Turns out she was just a proxy.
Unexpected, in more ways than one.
‘Maybe asking for lessons for a sibling or friend?’
Julia didn’t pry for details. Instead, she focused on the actual student.
“Special how? Talent? Personality?”
“Both.”
“Sounds like a handful.”
Julia smirked.
Talent without temperament, or vice versa—either way, teachers pulled their hair out.
Both? No wonder the previous two bailed.
Watching her, Li Chingwei wore an odd expression.
“Well... it’ll be tricky in a way you probably aren’t imagining.”
“What do you mean?”
“Hard to explain. You won’t get it—or accept it—without experiencing it yourself.”
“...?”
“So, I’m asking this upfront.”
Julia looked puzzled at the cryptic words, but Li Chingwei spoke calmly.
“If possible, don’t listen to his playing. At least for a while.”
Julia thought it was a joke at first.
Teach without hearing a performance? Absurder than teaching a deaf person.
But Li Chingwei’s eyes were dead serious, smile gone.
Julia realized she meant it.
“...Why?”
“You’ll want to run.”
A touch of doubt, heavy skepticism, and curiosity in Julia’s gaze.
Li Chingwei gave a wry smile.
“The two who came before you did.”
In the end,
Julia accepted the request.
Li Chingwei’s sincerity played a part, but mostly, she had to meet this person the girl hyped so much.
Even if signing the secrecy oath made her hesitate.
Only after that did Li Chingwei finally guide her to the student.
“Is this it? Where my student’s waiting?”
“Yes, inside this practice room.”
“Just to confirm—usage restrictions on this room?”
“Unlimited.”
“...Practice hours?”
“No, all instruments and equipment in this room, plus every facility at Hotel Leviathan.”
Including an executive suite already prepared.
Julia stared blankly at Li Chingwei’s beaming smile, blinked a few times, then asked dumbly,
“You trying to bankrupt me?”
“Don’t worry. All costs during your lessons will be covered as lesson fees.”
“Who the hell am I teaching to justify this?”
Julia was genuinely curious now.
But Li Chingwei didn’t answer. She just smiled and glanced inside.
“You’ll see for yourself.”
With those loaded words, she left, saying she didn’t want to intrude.
Julia stared at the empty space for a moment, sighed softly, steeled herself, and opened the practice room door.
“Hallo, schön dich zu treffen.”
And there he was.
Sitting with legs crossed,
A blue baby bird perched on his head,
Raising one hand lightly in greeting.
The black-haired young man who would become the most unique student of Julia’s life.
“Student Ri.”
“Ri.”
“Hm?”
“Hearing ‘student’ at my age feels awkward. Just call me ‘Ri.’”
“...Fine, Ri.”
As if graciously permitting it,
Julia watched the young man casually decide his own title, her expression subtle.
Even for her, with plenty of young students under her belt, this was a first—bold familiarity right after introductions.
‘Some chaebol heir who missed out on manners training?’
That would explain it. The arrogance, the funds to treat Hotel Leviathan like home.
But something didn’t fit.
‘Still, his demeanor has this weird refinement...’
Arrogant speech and all,
Julia, who’d mingled with elites, sensed an odd dignity in his utterly informal attitude.
Not showy self-importance, but the quiet confidence of someone who believed he deserved it.
Plus that faintly archaic, elegant German accent...
‘Yeah, like nobility.’
Back during her studies in the British Empire,
She’d met old nobles there.
Especially retired soldiers from martial noble houses—their vibe matched perfectly.
Gruff old men offering tea and cookies without fuss, no stiff protocol.
Age gap aside, maybe he’d grown up under a grandfather like that.
‘Could be some noble family’s young master.’
Julia stopped speculating there.
They’d made her sign a secrecy oath, so they had their reasons. No need to dig.
Besides, more pressing than Ri’s background: what she needed to learn first.
“I didn’t get much info beforehand, so... mind sharing your background first?”
“Background?”
“Yeah. Competitions you entered, awards you won, that sort of thing.”
Truth be told, she didn’t put much stock in resumes.
Fancy schools and trophies meant little. Only performance proved a performer.
Still, per Li Chingwei’s request, she’d settle for credentials now.
“Don’t have any.”
“...What do you mean, none?”
“Never entered a competition or anything.”
“Pardon?”
Julia’s shock was involuntary.
Unlike the ageless Li Chingwei, Ri was clearly in his twenties.
A typical violinist starting young would have competition experience by now.
No awards was one thing—no participation at all?
“Just to be sure, Ri... where did you... who did you learn violin from?”
“Regrettably, the previous teachers ran off before teaching me anything. If I had to say, you’ll be my first violin instructor.”
As long as you don’t run, too—he grinned mischievously.
Julia felt her lips twitch.
But she held it in.
Instead, she clung to one last hope.
“Then, when did you first play the violin?”
“About a month ago?”
His brazen answer hit.
Julia laughed hollowly and finally let slip two words.
“Verdammt Scheiße.”