To win over a man, you must understand him thoroughly.
This was Lin Yiqiao’s hard-earned wisdom.
She hadn’t been idle these past few days, discreetly gathering information around the military compound and piecing together some useful details.
What shocked her was Qi Jun’s grandfather—Qi Wanli!
A figure she had only ever heard of before, and now she had actually met his grandson!
Life’s encounters were truly miraculous.
If she had stayed holed up in that small town, she probably would never have crossed paths with people from such lofty circles in this lifetime.
The small building at the center of the compound was where Qi Jun lived alone, but he spent most of his time in the military. Someone only came by occasionally to clean and tidy up.
As for his fiancée, Zhao Hui, they had been introduced through a matchmaker and hadn’t been together long before Zhao Hui sacrificed her life.
Lin Yiqiao pinched her fingers. A deceased white moonlight was like a cinnabar mole—forever etched in memory.
But she wasn’t afraid. The more challenging a man was, the more he excited her.
Soon after, she heard news that Zhao Hui’s brother had secured a job at a textile factory, and the factory had allocated housing for their family of three.
It was said to be part of Zhao Hui’s martyr compensation.
Lin Yiqiao didn’t know much about such matters, but even if Zhao Hui’s compensation was truly that generous, she doubted a family like the Zhaos, who had just arrived in the capital, could have handled everything so smoothly. Her intuition told her Qi Jun had a hand in it.
Still, she was curious: Was Qi Jun helping Zhao Hui’s family out of guilt alone?
If so, his guilt was certainly valuable.
But love would be even more precious.
While Lin Yiqiao was still pondering her next move, her aunt handed her the perfect opportunity.
Qian Ru had previously been a member of the Northern Capital Military District’s Song and Dance Troupe but had retired early due to poor health.
The troupe was now conducting an internal recruitment for just two positions. Applicants needed to prepare a dance or solo performance, and their overall qualities—such as figure and demeanor—would also be assessed.
Lin Yiqiao had never learned to dance, but she had to give it a try.
Joining the troupe would give her a chance to get closer to Qi Jun, and she could even enlist in the military, opening up numerous future opportunities.
After sweetly thanking Qian Ru, Lin Yiqiao begged her to teach her.
Flattered and pleased, Qian Ru readily agreed.
She chose for Lin Yiqiao a dance she had choreographed herself, “The Laundry Girl.” The graceful, flowing water sleeves of Jiangnan dance were the most eye-catching, but instead of sticking to the usual soft and gentle style, Qian Ru had boldly incorporated elements of Dai ethnic dance, making it cleverly charming and coquettish—truly captivating.
Though Lin Yiqiao had no formal dance training, she was naturally flexible with excellent body extension, allowing her to dance with grace and poise.
While most dancers aimed for extreme slimness, Lin Yiqiao’s fuller figure was just right.
Qian Ru gave Lin Yiqiao the water sleeves she had used in her own performances and even bought several bolts of bright, beautiful fabric for her.
Lin Yiqiao had a knack for dressing well. She made several fashionable outfits for herself and Qian Ru, who was overjoyed when she tried them on.
Lin Yiqiao practiced diligently every day, often stretching on the small balcony on the second floor.
One day during practice, she sensed someone watching her.
Without looking up directly, she glanced subtly out of the corner of her eye while adjusting her sleeves.
She felt a gaze coming from the small building diagonally above, where a tall, broad-shouldered figure stood faintly visible.
Qi Jun had returned to collect Zhao Hui’s belongings. After her sacrifice, the military district had been unable to contact her family, so they had left the items with him.
The so-called keepsakes were merely two pieces of clothing and a notebook, which Qi Jun had stored in the attic’s storage room. Now that Zhao Xinxin had asked for them, he retrieved and returned them to her.
Qi Jun had always admired Zhao Hui’s simple and frugal lifestyle. She would indeed make an excellent comrade in the revolutionary cause, but alas…
Before he could dwell on it further, a graceful figure caught his attention.
Though he couldn’t clearly see the woman’s face, he recognized her as Lin Yiqiao, the one who had brought Zhang Guoqiang his meal that day.
Despite wearing elegant and gentle water sleeves, she moved with bold, sweeping motions—stretching her legs and loosening her muscles—swift yet still graceful.
She paused for a moment, seemingly recognizing him, and a smile spread across her lips as she waved at him.
Qi Jun gave her a deep, thoughtful glance, then shifted his steps and descended the stairs with long strides.
Lin Yiqiao believed she had performed perfectly. Regardless of whether he liked her or not, the first step was to make him remember her.
Men like him carried an air of arrogance.
Wearing a mask of calmness while hiding pride deep within was a necessary skill for those in power.
It didn’t matter how he saw her now—Lin Yiqiao had plenty of ways to make people like her.