Chapter 4: Chapter 4 The door to Professor Tran's office — Rebellious Symphony

A week later, the midterm transcript was announced.

The classroom of class 11A1 was filled with whispers when the homeroom teacher read the name Trần Nhật Minh. His average score in all subjects, which had been bad since the beginning of the year, dropped even lower this time, especially in Chemistry and Biology - two foundation subjects for the Medical major that everyone knew his family expected.

"Trần Nhật Minh," the homeroom teacher looked at him through her glasses, her voice stern. "I called to inform your parents. Professor Tran will come to school this afternoon to discuss directly." Minh didn't have any special reaction, just nodded briefly and continued to lean on the table. But Linh, sitting on the podium as class president, clearly noticed that his hand was clenching the edge of the desk until it turned white.

She knew, because during the past two weeks working together in warehouse number 4, she had learned to read the smallest signs on Minh's fake calm face.

That afternoon, after school, Linh had to stay at school to submit paperwork to the administrative office related to the exam application. On the way past the teacher's office, she heard a deep, authoritative male voice coming from the student counseling room.

"I don't understand," the voice said, cold and sharp as a knife. "I am a student at one of the best schools in the city. I have all the conditions that many other children cannot dream of having. Yet my Chemistry score is four point two. Biology score is three point eight. Where do I plan to get into with this score? What do I plan to do with my life?"

Linh stopped right outside the door, not daring to continue. Through the frosted glass door, she saw the silhouette of a tall, middle-aged man, wearing a neat suit, standing opposite Nhật Minh, who was sitting with his head bowed on a chair.

"I'm sorry," Minh said, his voice quieter, different from his usual carelessness. "I will try harder."

"Try harder?" Professor Trần Quang Vũ - Linh immediately guessed that it was Minh's father from the way the homeroom teacher called his name - sneered, a laugh without any warmth. "How many times have you said that? Since tenth grade, you promised me you would try harder. But your grades have only gone down. I'm starting to wonder what you spend all your time and energy on other than studying."

Minh was silent and did not answer.

"All four generations of the Tran family worked in the medical field," Professor Vũ continued, his voice sharp. "Your grandfather was the best surgeon in the provincial hospital at that time. Dad was the head of the Cardiology Department. Your mother was also a doctor. You are the only hope to continue that tradition. I don't ask you to be as excellent as me right away, but at least you have to show that you have the will to try, rather than just sink into laziness like this."

"I'm not lazy," Minh raised his head, his voice showing a bit of resistance for the first time. "I just..."

"Just what?" Professor Vũ raised his voice.

Minh lowered his eyes and fell silent. Linh stood outside the door, her heart pounding, almost holding her breath. She knew he wanted to say something about music, about Z, about those hard nights in storage room number 4 — but he held it back, swallowing it all inside.

"If your grades don't improve next semester," Professor Vũ said, his voice cold and decisive, like a verdict, "I will have someone supervise your studies twenty-four out of twenty-four hours. No cell phones. No personal computers. You will only be allowed to study and sleep until the university entrance exam is over. I can do what I say, do you understand?"

A long silence passed before Minh quietly replied, "Yes."

The sound of chairs dragging on the floor rang out. Linh quickly backed away, hiding in a corner of the hallway out of sight, just as the consulting room door opened. Professor Trần Quang Vũ stepped forward, walking straight and majestic, never looking back at his son. Minh followed, his head bowed low, his shoulders drooping under an invisible weight.

Linh stood there for a long time after their shadows disappeared, her heart heavy with a feeling she had never felt with Minh before: grief.

***

"You're absent-minded again," Bảo Châu sat down at her table during recess, holding a box of yogurt in his hand, looking at Linh with a questioning look that had become familiar in recent weeks. "For the past three weeks, you've been feeling like you've lost your soul. Is the scholarship thing causing you too much pressure?"

"Not really," Linh replied, trying to keep her voice normal, her eyes still looking at the back of the classroom where Minh was sitting unusually quiet, no longer slumped over his desk sleeping like usual.

Bảo Châu followed your eyes, then frowned slightly. "Are you looking at Trần Nhật Minh? I heard his father came to school this afternoon and gave him a good scolding in the counseling room. The whole eleventh grade whispered all morning."

"Do rumors spread so quickly?" Linh frowned, unable to hide her discomfort.

"It's our school, things don't spread quickly," Bảo Châu shrugged, then looked at his friend with eyes much more delicate than a seventeen year old. "But strangely, you have never cared about Nhật Minh's affairs before. You once said he was 'not worthy of your concern'. Why is it different now?"

Linh paused, unable to find a reasonable answer right away. "I just... feel sorry for him. Not everyone is born able to meet all their family's expectations."

Bảo Châu stared at her for a long time, then smiled softly, did not say anything more, just quietly pushed the intact yogurt box towards Linh as an implicit gesture of comfort. "Eat up. You missed breakfast again, right?"

Linh took it, her heart was both warm because she had a delicate friend like Châu, and also anxious that the secret she was keeping would soon no longer be kept.

***

That evening, when Linh went to storage room number 4 as usual, she saw Minh was there, but not sitting in front of the laptop like usual. He sat on the floor, his back against the wall, his knees pulled up, holding an old headset in his hand, twirling it in his hand without putting it on.

"Are you okay?" Linh asked, her voice softer than she thought she could.

Minh looked up, a bit surprised to see a rare look of concern in her eyes. "Fine. Why do you ask?"

"Nothing." Linh put down the violin case and sat on the floor next to him, a sufficient distance, not too close but not too far. "It's just...you don't seem to be happy today." Minh was silent for a moment, then laughed lightly. "Did you hear that? About my dad scolding me."

Linh did not deny it. "I happened to be passing by. I didn't mean to eavesdrop."

"No problem." Minh shrugged, trying to appear indifferent but his voice still cracked a bit. "You'll hear it, sooner or later. The whole school knows who my father is, knows how bad my grades are. This is no secret."

"But you're not bad," Linh said, her voice suddenly becoming determined. "You're just good at something different than what your dad wants to see."

Minh looked at her with complicated eyes. "You know, there are times when I wonder if my dad was right. That music is just a childish pastime, and Medicine is the real path worth pursuing. He saved hundreds of lives with those hands. As for me, I just make sounds to make people dance for a few minutes and then forget about it."

"It's not like that," Linh objected immediately, her voice hard. "Your music makes people feel something real. Me too. I listened to Z's music for months before I knew it was you, and it got me through so many stressful nights where I couldn't sleep. That's no small thing."

Minh was silent, seemingly surprised by her sudden assertion.

"Your father is right about one thing," Linh continued, her voice slowing. "That you have all the conditions that other people dream of. But he was wrong in thinking that there was only one right way to use those conditions. I used to think the same thing about myself, until I met you."

There was a long silence between the two, only the sound of the laptop's cooling fan softly echoing in the corner of the room.

"Thank you," Minh said finally, his voice small but with rare sincerity. "No one has ever said such things to me, not even my mother, even though she truly loves me."

"Isn't your mother on your side?" Linh asked.

"My mother loves me," Minh said, his voice complicated. "But she is just as afraid of my father as I am. She can only quietly hide a few things, not daring to openly take my side." Linh nodded, understanding somewhat the complicated family picture behind the "famous family" appearance that the whole school still admired.

“So we have to make this mix really great,” she said, her voice regaining its familiar assertiveness, but this time with a new warmth. "Excellent enough that one day, when you're ready, the whole world will know who Z is, and no one can deny your talent, not even your father."

Minh looked at her, the corners of his lips curled up into a slight smile, for the first time there was no longer any bitterness. "Okay. Then stand up, class president. We still have a lot of work to do."

The two of them stood up and returned to the machine table, but this time, the distance between them was a little shorter, not only in space but also in each person's heart.