Jian Jiadong was certain he hadn't seen this so-called "Teacher Xu" before; he had been busy for the past six months.
Having seen how young the other party was, he never thought to associate him with any noteworthy lyricists or composers. In fact, the composers he knew of were still the ones from ten years ago.
The few words that often came up in his conversations were humanity, art films, dialects, and madam.
"Teacher Xu, my apologies," Jian Jiadong changed his face with exceptional speed, without the slightest hint of discomfort, "It seems I have failed to recognize Mount Tai."
There was nothing wrong with that remark. It was just a way to smooth over having overlooked someone. He could simply ask about the other person's accomplishments, offer a few compliments following their lead, and apologize to move on.
But after saying that, Jian Jiadong offered no follow-up and fell silent. A smile still graced his face as if he had already moved on.