Zhao Nige couldn’t sleep.
All night, her mind drifted back to Lu Yanling. She had never doubted her beauty or her power over men. In her previous life, after a performance at the Royal Swedish Opera, a Prince Richard had fallen so hard for her that he pursued her relentlessly.
Vain as it sounded, she truly believed she could win over any man she set her sights on.
When the system first dropped her here and told her she needed to conquer a target, she hadn’t taken it seriously. Just one man—how hard could it be?
Yet she kept tripping up with this one.
Fine. The man actually has some backbone.
Lying in bed, Zhao Nige reviewed the day’s events. Playing hard to get had worked wonders at the hospital, so why had it backfired so completely today? Something must have gone wrong.
She had clearly sensed a shift in his mood, catching the undercurrent of anger beneath his calm exterior. In short, he was furious.
The question was: who was he mad at? Her, or his friend?
If he was upset because she had accepted his friend’s invitation, it proved he wasn’t as indifferent as he pretended. But if his anger stemmed from seeing his friend used as a pawn…
Then her clever little scheme had backfired.
Zhao Nige let out a soft, frustrated hiss. She had found her mistake.
Lu Yanling came from a military family and practiced strict self-discipline. Men like him were often proud to their bones, guided by principles others might see as bordering on obsessive.
First she had flirted with him, then she had used his friend. In his eyes, was she already two-timing them?
He probably saw her as frivolous and had revoked every ounce of goodwill he’d previously held toward her. That had to be why she had earned a flat zero despite his emotional turbulence today.
It was the only explanation. Otherwise, she couldn’t have walked away without a single point.
Zhao Nige tossed her throw pillow aside.
She had rushed things, pushed too hard, and overplayed her hand.
No matter. The incident also proved something else: Lu Yanling responded to a soft touch, not force. Capturing him would be like flying a kite—a matter of knowing when to pull and when to let go. When he grew too rigid, she would ease the tension; once he relaxed, she would reel him back in.
The game was finally getting interesting.
She lay on her side, resting her cheek against one hand. A single thin strap barely held up her nightgown, leaving her fair shoulders and collarbones bare under the soft glow of the bedside lamp. Beneath the thin blanket, her slender curves and long, bare calves caught the light with a jade-like sheen.
Resting her head back against her arm, Zhao Nige smiled, her lips curving with amused anticipation.
Her troupe’s performance for the military was the day after tomorrow.
Lu Yanling, let’s see what happens when we meet again.
***
Two days later, the autumn sun shone bright in the afternoon sky. The lingering gloom and rain of the past few days had vanished, leaving behind a clear, cloudless blue.
A convoy of Art Troupe buses rolled out, merging into the city traffic. Festive red banners hung along the sides of the vehicles, which carried all the performers headed to the military base, along with the accompanying department leaders.
Two cadre members on each bus stood at the front, reciting standard reminders about discipline. Nobody was really listening. The passengers, mostly young women, were buzzing with excitement as they talked about the unit they were visiting and the potential romantic prospects they might meet.
Even Yu Qian, sitting beside Zhao Nige, could barely contain her thrill. She hadn’t made the cut initially, but a dancer had sprained her ankle the day before, opening up a spot for her as a substitute. Convinced that luck was on her side, she was brimming with anticipation.
“Nige, I heard that after the performance tonight, we’re having a mixer dance with the soldiers and officers!”
The so-called mixer was, in plain terms, a mass blind date between the military unit and the Art Troupe.
With the soldiers and officers cut off from the outside world during closed training year-round, opportunities to meet women were virtually nonexistent. To help these young men find wives, the base arranged a mixer dance whenever the Art Troupe came to perform.
If a spark ignited between a pair, it could lead to marriage; if not, it was simply an ordinary social gathering.
It was a surprisingly thoughtful arrangement.
Naturally, the bus was buzzing with chatter as the girls traded gossip about which officers were handsome or came from prominent families, each daydreaming about catching one’s eye.
While Yu Qian chattered away in her ear like a squirrel, Zhao Nige kept her ears open for any mention of the man named Lu.
Sure enough, she caught something.
“Zhao Lanxin, you turned down that blind date with the young master of the Lu family last time. If he asks you to dance tonight, you won’t say no again, will you?”
It was Li Ting, the dancer who had challenged her earlier and lost.
“Men always want what they can’t have. Rejecting him once probably turned you into his unattainable ideal!” Zhao Lanxin’s devoted sidekick chimed in.
“You know I have to perform such a major ballet all on my own. How could I possibly have any energy left for social dancing afterward?” Zhao Lanxin’s voice drifted over, dripping with false innocence.
Zhao Nige curled her lip and stopped eavesdropping.
Clearly, Zhao Lanxin had never gotten over having her blind date with Eldest Young Master Lu snatched away, even lying to her two best friends that she had turned down the match herself. She would definitely be looking for an opportunity during this performance.
Yet Zhao Nige didn’t take her seriously in the slightest.
For one, she had plenty of confidence in herself. For another, she refused to believe Lu Yanling’s taste was poor enough to fancy Zhao Lanxin.
“Zhao Nige, I brought a pretty dress. Look.” Yu Qian discreetly revealed a corner of floral fabric from her bag, her cheeks flushing.
“I—I just don’t know if anyone will ask me to dance…”
Though Zhao Nige was the same age, seeing the girl’s innocent bashfulness brought an indulgent, fond smile to her face. “You’re so cute. There’ll be plenty of officers lining up to dance with you.”
Yu Qian glanced at Zhao Nige, suddenly curious. “By the way, you mentioned last time that your boyfriend is in the military. Which unit is he with?”
Zhao Nige thought for a moment. “Special forces.”
As for the specific unit designation, she honestly had no idea.
***
After an hour’s drive, the bus arrived at a Military Region Headquarters on the outskirts of the city.
Today was National Day, and the base was holding a grand celebration. Alongside the joint Art Troupe performance, various internal events were underway.
Stepping off the bus, Zhao Nige saw banners hanging across the grounds. Red flags fluttered before the monument in the central square, and neat columns of soldiers marched past from time to time, singing in unison.
The stern, disciplined atmosphere, filled with the sharp vigor of the troops, washed over the sheltered young women of the troupe.
Flushed with excitement, their eyes clung to the handsome soldiers. Knowing the buses carried the young performers for the day’s show, the soldiers stole glances right back.
The girls nudged each other, blushing.
Zhao Nige began to feel a twinge of regret. She didn’t even know which company Lu Yanling belonged to, so how was she supposed to find him? She should have asked Guan Chu earlier.
It was too late for that now, but the performance was set for the afternoon. All the officers and soldiers would gather in the auditorium to watch. If she spotted him from the stage, she could easily find out his unit.
Following the group into the auditorium, Zhao Nige began preparing for the show.
***
Brigade Headquarters.
The chief of staff walked into the administrative office and, sure enough, found Lu Yanling there.
Sitting straight-backed in his military uniform before a long ebony desk, set against a massive military map, he was studying a document. His brow furrowed slightly with concentration, his lips pressed into a precise, uncompromising line.
Looking at him, it was hard to believe the man was turning thirty soon.
The chief of staff knocked on the door.
Without looking up, Lu Yanling said, “Come in.”
Stepping inside, the chief of staff asked, “The performance is about to start. Aren’t you going?”
“No.”
“You’re the brigade commander.” The chief of staff gave a helpless look. “Skipping the celebration performance every single year doesn’t look good. We’re supposed to be fostering unity with the people.”
“Hardly every year.” Lu Yanling glanced up. “I was only transferred here last year.”
“Exactly. You’ve been brigade commander for barely two years and haven’t shown up once. What are the troops under you supposed to think?”
“Let them think whatever they want.” Lu Yanling put away the exercise schedule without a hint of expression. “I have a mountain of work to do. Go in my place.”
He had attended the military’s annual arts celebration back when he first enlisted. It had meant sitting through two or three hours of dull performances followed by an awkward mixer—miserable memories from start to finish. He would much rather pore over paperwork for two hours than suffer through that again.
“Come on, Eldest Young Master Lu, higher-ups will be there today. There’s a speech scheduled right after the show. How could I possibly go in your place?”
Lu Yanling snapped his head up, fixing him with a cold stare. “Don’t call me that.”
The chief of staff caught himself and lightly slapped his own cheek. “My bad, my bad. Force of habit.”
Lu Yanling’s brow furrowed. “Get out. I’ll show up once the performance is over.”
A moment later, he set down the files and rubbed the bridge of his nose. For some reason, the image of that woman smiling, claiming to be a dancer from the Art Troupe, flitted across his mind.
***
Meanwhile, in the grand military auditorium, the variety show was about to begin.
Troops filed in one after another, packing the venue to capacity. A sea of identical buzz cuts and green uniforms sat ramrod straight in their seats, as if copy-pasted across the rows.
Zhao Nige peeked out from behind the curtain, but a single glance was enough to make her dizzy.
How was she supposed to find him in this?
There had to be thousands of soldiers out there. Even if she stared until her eyes went blind, picking out Lu Yanling from such a massive crowd would be impossible. He might have had the kind of presence that naturally stood out, but scanning an audience just wasn’t a skill she had ever practiced.
She was used to being the dazzling center of attention on stage, basking in the gaze of everyone else. She had never once bothered searching for someone in a crowd. She had zero experience with this sort of thing and no idea where to start.
Still, if she couldn’t find him from backstage, she would just have to make sure he was looking up at her once she was under the spotlight.