Otaku Translation: My Girlfriend Is a Cello Player C117

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Chapter 117: The

Back at ’s place, ’s phone buzzed with a notification.

Sure enough, there it was—. Not a penny more, not a penny less.

When Gan Yanyu showed him the message, Lin Tian felt something snap inside.

What the hell? 100,000?

Was this really pocket money for a high school student?

He thought back to his own first big payday—the one he’d earned after weeks of grinding. Negotiating sponsorships, composing music, crafting viral videos. Every cent had been hard-won, clawed out of sheer determination and sleepless nights.

And here was Gan Yanyu, casually sitting on a goldmine she didn’t even have to ask for.

All she’d done was stay silent—and boom, six figures dropped into her account like it was nothing. Worse yet, she’d somehow managed to charm her dad in the process.

Lin Tian couldn’t help but feel a pang of self-doubt. All those times they’d sat together, carefully budgeting every expense, squeezing value out of every coin—it suddenly hit him how absurd it must’ve looked from her perspective.

It was like some fairy-tale princess running away from home, only to team up with a penniless adventurer. And when the adventurer finally dug up a measly potato and proudly declared, “We’ve got food!” the princess clapped her hands and cheered as if he’d struck gold.

Except… now it seemed the princess was just along for moral support. She could’ve summoned an entire feast anytime she wanted.

Lin Tian sighed. It reminded him of someone else—a singer who once joked about inheriting a fortune if singing didn’t pan out.

“…”

“Lin Tian, check your ,” Gan Yanyu said suddenly.

He blinked, pulling out his phone.

A transfer notification popped up on her screen.

"100,000."

“What…?” Lin Tian stared at the amount, momentarily stunned. “Why are you sending me this?”

“I can’t use that much anyway,” Gan Yanyu replied, looking up at the ceiling. “You’re the one buying everything we need. Just think of it as splitting expenses.”

“That’s different,” Lin Tian protested. Every dollar he'd made—through sponsorships, system rewards, or ad revenue—had been earned through their combined efforts. Those funds were shared spoils, fair game for both of them to spend.

But this? This was her father’s gift to her. Her personal allowance. He couldn’t take it.

“No way. Keep it.”

This was serious money. Lin Tian started tapping away to return the transfer.

But before he could finish, Gan Yanyu grabbed his arm.

“We still need to buy , right?”

“Well, yeah…”

“So let’s use this for that. Once we make more money later, you can pay me back.”

“But this is from your dad!”

“You’re not just anyone, Lin Tian. I trust you.” She clasped her hands together, smiling softly. “Think of it as me letting you hold onto it for safekeeping. In return, maybe treat me to some good food now and then?”

“…”

“Alright,” Lin Tian relented, clicking ‘Accept.’

“There’s one thing…” Gan Yanyu’s eyes lit up mischievously. “Now that we’re rich, can we get two puddings tonight?”

Lin Tian chuckled. “Idiot, it’s your money. Of course we can.”

She could’ve kept some of it herself, splurged guilt-free. Instead, she handed over the full amount and asked permission to spend even a fraction of it. Did she enjoy making him feel like the provider? Or did she simply find joy in sharing?

“Later, we’ll order delivery. Anything you want,” he offered.

Most desserts tasted better fresh from a shop, but pudding wasn’t too bad either.

“Great!” Gan Yanyu beamed.

Still, Lin Tian couldn’t shake off his curiosity. What had gone down between Gan Yanyu and her parents while he was in the restroom? When they returned, Gan Dad’s gaze had been oddly intense, and Gan Yanyu herself had avoided meeting his eyes.

Speaking of which…

“How’s the piece coming along?” Lin Tian asked.

The smile froze on Gan Yanyu’s face.

“I’m… still practicing.”

“Did you submit the entry form already?”

“Yes.”

“Then you’d better hurry. Time’s running out.”

Lin Tian tried to keep his tone light. Filming videos was secondary; failing to master the piece by competition day would be catastrophic. But pressuring her too much wouldn’t help either.

Since he had time to spare, he settled down beside her.

“Let me hear where you’re at. I’ll give you feedback.”

“I didn’t bring my . Maybe next time.” As she spoke, Gan Yanyu slipped toward the door unnoticed.

“I’m heading home to practice.”

She slipped on her shoes and stepped outside, poking her head back in briefly.

“Don’t worry, Lin Tian. I won’t hold you back. You keep working hard, okay?”

With that, she disappeared—but not before popping her head back in one last time.

“Oh, and remember to send dessert to my place tonight!”

The door clicked shut, leaving Lin Tian blinking in confusion.

Something told him she wasn’t progressing as smoothly as she claimed.

But for now, he had no choice but to focus elsewhere.

---

Wednesday

Seventeen days until the arts exam. Twelve days until the .

In an empty piano room, elegant notes filled the air.

Finally, the melody faded.

Lin Tian lifted his hands and turned to , who stood watching thoughtfully.

“Hmm…” Gao Zhenyang stroked his chin. “It feels… lacking in spirit.”

“Spirit?” Lin Tian echoed, confused.

“Yes.” Gao Zhenyang nodded. “Your technical skill is impeccable. If we’re talking pure accuracy, you’re already at a professional level. But to truly stand out in the arts exam, you need something more—imagination, perhaps?”

“Imagination?” Lin Tian repeated, feeling lost. These artistic types always spoke in riddles.

Last week, he’d memorized every scrap of theoretical knowledge required for the exam. Memorization came naturally to him, so that part hadn’t been a problem.

But performing? That was another story entirely.

His musical journey was unconventional. His skills came from a system upgrade, not years of practice. Most of his experience revolved around accompanying Gan Yanyu, supporting her cello performances.

Now, being asked to take center stage and interpret a solo piece left him feeling strangely unprepared.

“Mr. Lin,” Gao Zhenyang ventured, “have you mostly played your own compositions? And spent most of your time accompanying Miss Gan?”

“Yes.”

Lin Tian had acquired this skill specifically to accompany Gan Yanyu. He’d never learned to play independently—it had all been instantaneous, no trial and error involved.

“Perhaps,” Gao Zhenyang suggested gently, “You should study Miss Gan’s approach.”

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