Soon, the day of the official exchange performance arrived.
Whenever foreign guests were involved, the higher-ups always took things very seriously. This time, the stage was moved from the troupe’s usual pavilion to the grand auditorium at Jingbei Square.
This was a place countless art soldiers dreamed of stepping onto.
The deep red carpet, the bright lights, and the neat rows of dignified seats below all symbolized an honor that was rare and precious.
This wasn’t the first time Wang Dongyun had come here, but she was more excited than ever before.
After her leg injury, she had never returned to a real stage—especially not one as important as this, an international exchange performance.
Afraid she might cry again, Shi Man reminded her softly, “No tears. Or your makeup will smudge.”
“I know, Manman. I’m just too excited.” Wang Dongyun fanned her eyes and smiled at Shi Man with deep gratitude. “Manman, thank you.”
“What’s there to thank me for?” Shi Man curled her lips casually and went backstage with Wang Dongyun to rest.
Cui Xia was there too, but she couldn’t sit still. After the opening solo performance, she kept running between the stage front and backstage, helping the stage crew pass props and occasionally stopping by to chat.
“Don’t be nervous. There aren’t that many people in front—mostly senior leaders and the foreign guests from Lunsakesi.”
“Want a bagel? Cook Li is really thoughtful. He was afraid we’d get hungry after performing or while waiting, so he brought these for us.”
“But bagels are best right out of the oil. If you say a few nice things to Cook Li, he’ll sprinkle white sugar on them—super fragrant and sweet.”
Cui Xia talked to herself the whole time, but in truth, her eyes were glued to the bagel in Shi Man’s hand.
Shi Man didn’t like sweets much to begin with. After learning in her dreams that sugar was the enemy of beauty, she felt even more grateful for her natural aversion to it.
She casually handed it over. “I’m not hungry. You eat it.”
Cui Xia immediately beamed, leaning in to whisper by Shi Man’s ear. “Thanks for the bagel, Sister Manman. I’ll tell you a secret in return.”
“What?”
“The one chasing you is here too.”
Cui Xia was mischievous to the bone. She ran off laughing like silver bells the moment she finished speaking.
Shi Man froze. “So many people chase me—who is she talking about?”
Wang Dongyun, who was chewing on her bagel, paused and thought seriously. “I think she means Ling Zhen.”
Shi Man: “…”
Knowing Ling Zhen was sitting outside, Shi Man’s mood became complicated.
In her dream, the stunning puppet dance she’d seen had been watched together with Ling Zhen.
Back then, a foreign dance troupe had come to China for an exchange performance. Several leaders were invited to watch, and Ling Zhen—already of high rank—could bring family members along. Shi Man happened to be in a good mood and came to the auditorium.
The puppet dance left a deep impression on her. It was her first time seeing something like it. Combined with the lighting and atmosphere, it was incredibly powerful. The applause thundered endlessly.
After returning home, Shi Man couldn’t stop talking about it with Ling Zhen.
She said that since foreign countries had puppet dances, China had puppet theater—so if they choreographed a puppet dance with Chinese characteristics, wouldn’t it amaze the foreigners too?
She enthusiastically worked on it for a long time. At the time, the troupe leader was Zhang Zhixin, who supported her and gave her a lot of help.
The puppet dance she’d now choreographed for Wang Dongyun was based on the one from her dream, modified specifically for Wang Dongyun. That was why it had come together so quickly and smoothly.
Shi Man only regretted that in her dream, she hadn’t found someone as suitable as Wang Dongyun to perform it. As for herself, she lacked patience and gave up not long after.
She had always been impatient—toward Ling Zhen too.
At first, she thought she could tolerate his cold, intimidating aura and taciturn nature. But she quickly couldn’t anymore. Just days after marrying him, she grew weary.
Now it was 1975. The widespread introduction of puppet dance from abroad was still years away.
Shi Man was certain that puppet dance hadn’t yet become popular overseas, so Wang Dongyun’s performance would definitely stun the audience.
She looked forward to it deeply—hoping Wang Dongyun would regain her confidence and smile brightly every day under the spotlight.
Absolutely, absolutely never again would she fall into depression like in the dream… never again jump to her death.
…
Finally, it was time for the finale dance.
Shi Man was only supporting—Wang Dongyun was the true core of the performance.
With the auditorium’s lighting, atmosphere, and days of hard practice, Wang Dongyun performed even better than she had during the evaluation.
The puppet she portrayed seemed to walk out from a rainy day beneath the green-tiled eaves of an ancient Jiangnan alley—weathered by a thousand years, its body decayed, yet still dancing with all its strength to present the most elegant steps.
That was Wang Dongyun herself.
Her legs were uncoordinated. She had suffered countless blows. Yet she had struggled her way here to offer this dance.
Perhaps because of this deep resonance, the dance performed by Wang Dongyun and Shi Man moved everyone.
Even with language barriers and cultural differences, dance transcended borders.
The foreign guests from Lunsakesi discreetly wiped their eyes with tissues.
“So beautiful. So dreamlike.” They repeated the same praise to the accompanying interpreters.
The leaders wore satisfied, proud smiles—it reflected well on them.
Zhang Zhixin, the troupe leader, was nearly moved to tears. The effect of the performance exceeded his expectations.
A senior leader beside him asked, “What are the names of the two comrades who danced?”
Zhang Zhixin replied promptly, “Wang Dongyun and Shi Man.”
“Very good,” the leader nodded. “They deserve commendation and reward.”
“Absolutely! I’ll put in a merit report for them when I get back!” Zhang Zhixin laughed so hard the wrinkles at his eyes showed. He felt proud too.
Ling Zhen happened to be seated behind the senior leader.
Hearing Shi Man’s name, he looked at her radiant smile on stage. The puppet dance overlapped with a memory deep within him, making him frown slightly as he tried to recall it.
At that moment, the interpreter approached the senior leader and whispered something.
The leader nodded and gestured to Zhang Zhixin. “Go talk to them.”
“Yes, right away.” Zhang Zhixin stood up. Ling Zhen quietly followed.
In the backstage dressing room, the performers surrounded Shi Man and Wang Dongyun, still in awe of Wang Dongyun’s performance.
Zhang Zhixin knocked and entered. “Everyone step out for a moment. I need to speak with Comrades Shi Man and Wang Dongyun.”
After the room cleared, Zhang Zhixin could no longer hold back. Grinning broadly, he gave a thumbs-up. “Excellent! Truly excellent! You really brought honor to me—and to our country.”
Wang Dongyun had never received such high praise. She grew restless, her nose stinging with long-unfelt validation.
“There’s one more thing,” Zhang Zhixin continued.
“The foreign guests loved your dance and want to invite it over.”
“But you know the Quyi team’s Wang Hong and the others were already decided long ago. Their opera performance is also a cultural treasure, so they’re definitely going.”
“Slots are limited. Between you, only one person can go.”
Without hesitation, Wang Dongyun said, “Let Manman go.”
Shi Man patted her. “Nonsense. Of course you should go. You’re the core of the puppet dance. Whether I’m there or not doesn’t matter.”
Zhang Zhixin nearly jumped. He’d been saying this partly to comfort Shi Man, and her maturity eased his worry.
He turned back to Wang Dongyun. “Dongyun, I know you’re close, but honors aren’t something to give away. This dance was your idea, and you performed it beautifully. If not you, then who?”
“As for Shi Man—we wanted her to go too, but it’s impossible. So the troupe decided to give you fifty yuan, two cloth coupons, and a set of face cream as rewards. You two can split it.”
Shi Man thought that sounded great—money, cloth coupons for fashionable clothes, and face cream others couldn’t even get.
But Wang Dongyun bit her lip stubbornly. “Leader Zhang, I still want Manman to go.”
She knew everything she had now was thanks to Shi Man.
The praise had already made her feel guilty—as if she’d stolen Shi Man’s credit.
If she also took this overseas opportunity, wouldn’t that make her worse than a thief?
Her nose burned as she bowed deeply. “Leader Zhang, I’m sorry.”
“This puppet dance… I didn’t choreograph it. Manman did.”
Zhang Zhixin stared at Shi Man in shock.
Shi Man helplessly pulled Wang Dongyun up and handed her a handkerchief. Then she said calmly, “Leader Zhang, I asked Dongyun to keep it secret. Could you help me keep it confidential too?”
“Yes… yes.” Zhang Zhixin replied dazedly.
He’d always thought Shi Man was like a peacock—too beautiful, always drawing attention.
He hadn’t expected her to dislike the spotlight.
“I won’t tell anyone,” he said solemnly.
Shi Man knew he would agree. In her dream, Zhang Zhixin had always been a good leader.
Wang Dongyun finally felt relieved.
Looking at Shi Man, she said earnestly, “Manman, now that everything’s clear, you can go abroad with peace of mind.”
Shi Man blinked. “Then how do we split the rewards?”
Wang Dongyun brightened. “All of it goes to you.”
Shi Man laughed. “I was teasing. I’ll take the rewards. You go abroad.”
That way, it was fair.
Material rewards for Shi Man. Honor and recognition for Wang Dongyun.
Zhang Zhixin quickly agreed to submit the list and slipped away before anyone could change their mind.
But outside, he ran into someone even more troublesome.
Ling Zhen.
Standing tall in the corridor like a poplar in uniform, he asked calmly, “Leader Zhang, was the puppet dance choreographed by Shi Man?”
Zhang Zhixin blurted out a blank “Uh” in acknowledgment.
Only after Ling Zhen nodded, said “Good, thank you,” and turned to leave did Zhang Zhixin snap out of his daze.
Damn it! Why did I just blurt that out?!
He had promised Shi Man not to tell anyone!
Zhang Zhixin felt guilty for a moment, but then he thought, given Commander Ling’s relentless pursuit of Shi Man, she’d likely stop being just “someone else” soon enough.
As one of Shi Man’s top leaders in the troupe, Zhang Zhixin knew exactly what Ling Zhen had done for her.
So he quickly found a way to reassure himself: It’s fine, I said it. He’s not an outsider anymore.
Meanwhile, Ling Zhen had already positioned himself on the other side, waiting patiently like a hunter lying in wait for his prey, anticipating Shi Man’s emergence.
He wasn’t surprised at all that Shi Man had choreographed the Puppet Dance.
His thoughts drifted back to his previous life, to the times he’d seen Shi Man practicing similar dances at home.
She’d been so enthusiastic, researching tirelessly and even treating him with unusual gentleness, perhaps because she was so excited. She had even promised to let him be the first to see her finished Puppet Dance.
She danced everything beautifully, but he couldn’t understand why she insisted on stiffening her naturally supple limbs—limbs that could stretch like blooming willow branches in spring—into the rigid, jerky movements of a decaying puppet.
Without realizing it, he frowned.
Shi Man noticed his expression and flew into a rage, accusing him of disrespecting her dance and lacking any appreciation for art. How dare he dislike her Puppet Dance!
He tried to explain that he didn’t dislike it…
But before he could speak, her machine-gun barrage of complaints and accusations blocked him.
When Shi Man got angry, she wouldn’t listen to a word he said.
He had no choice but to remain silent, carefully controlling his expression to avoid frowning or betraying any emotion she might misinterpret.
From that day on, Shi Man never danced for him again.
“…Compared to the Shi Man she’d become later, the Shi Man before, even when she rejected him and spoke with cold politeness, even when her words carried a hint of impatience and resistance, Ling Zhen still felt a sliver of relief.
At least, it wasn’t all bad.
What puzzled him now was why Shi Man had suddenly rejected him and why she had created the Puppet Dance so early.
Could it be that she…
Just as this thought surfaced, Sister Mei’s booming voice echoed nearby.
“Xiao Man! I’m so sorry I misjudged things and took on that scumbag Dong Qingguo’s request!”
Sister Mei never held back when she cursed, spitting curses with fiery abandon.
After spitting at Dong Qingguo several times, Sister Mei switched her tone, smiling sweetly as she said, “Xiao Man, I’ve got some good ones lined up for you—guaranteed to have been thoroughly vetted. Want to pick someone to meet?”
Shi Man’s sweet, gentle voice replied, “Sister Mei, I—”
Ling Zhen strode forward, cutting off Shi Man’s reply and grabbing her arm again.
Enraged again by the mention of her going on a date, Ling Zhen momentarily lost his usual composure.
By the time he regained his composure, he had already dragged Shi Man to the secluded lakeside.
This time, he quickly released her arm, no longer holding her.
Shi Man was utterly bewildered. Her long, curled eyelashes flicked upward in anger.
“Ling Zhen! What are you doing?!” For the first time, she dropped the polite formalities and addressed him by his full name, demanding an explanation.
“You’re going on another blind date,” Ling Zhen stated flatly, his tone much calmer now.
Only he knew the period at the end of that sentence concealed emotions far deeper and more intense than Shi Man’s visible anger.
Rubbing her wrist, Shi Man couldn’t help but raise her voice. “I told you it’s none of your business! What does it matter to you if I go on blind dates?”
She genuinely believed she had no ties to him anymore.
Ling Zhen could hear the desperation in her voice—a desperate urge to escape and sever all ties with him.
Restraining himself to the breaking point, he blurted out, “I’ve been promoted to regimental commander! Who else would you marry?”
Shi Man stared at him in stunned silence for a long moment.
First, no one had told her about Ling Zhen’s promotion. It must have happened recently, another deviation from the dream.
Second, what did his promotion have to do with who she married?
Then she remembered their last meeting by the lake, where she had deliberately called him “Commander Ling” at every turn to avoid any rumors.
Could he think I rejected him because of his rank?
…Knowing his stubbornness, that was the only explanation.
After a long silence, Shi Man spoke, deciding to continue finding fault with him. “So what if you’re the regimental commander now? You never even courted me properly.”
Courted?
Ling Zhen fell silent. The word felt foreign to him.
Isn’t it enough that I came to see her every chance I got? That I kept trying to talk about getting married?
Seeing his silence, Shi Man boldly praised herself, “I’m the prettiest girl in the art troupe! Everyone calls me its ‘flower.’ I not only got an A-plus before, but I also did great at the Exchange Performance. Do you really think I’d just casually marry someone without being properly courted?”
Ling Zhen grew even quieter.
Shi Man pressed her advantage, “Commander Ling, you’re so old-fashioned!”
“…” Ling Zhen’s dark eyes narrowed slightly. The word “old-fashioned” felt like a sharp blade piercing his heart.
After all, Ling Zhen was the army’s model young man—a stickler for military rules, discipline, and proper thinking. He shouted the slogan “Resolutely oppose feudal superstitions” every day.
How could Shi Man call him old-fashioned?
Yet, despite his anger, Ling Zhen couldn’t muster a single counterargument. Shi Man was too quick-witted and logical, leaving him utterly unable to refute her points.
But that was fine. Ling Zhen had always been a man of few words and many actions.
He decided to prove to Shi Man through his actions that he wasn’t old-fashioned.
He was willing to court her—as long as she agreed to marry him.
***
Ling Zhen was a man of action, moving quickly to carry out his plans.
The very next day, Shi Man spotted him waiting by the art troupe’s cafeteria entrance.
He held a metal lunchbox—the kind others needed both hands to carry—effortlessly with just two fingers.
Shi Man really didn’t want to talk to him. He was strikingly handsome and tall; even standing behind the tree by the entrance, he was impossible to miss.
She knew it wouldn’t take half a meal for the entire cafeteria to realize he was waiting for her outside.
Left with no choice, Shi Man approached him and told him to leave at once.
She couldn’t understand how someone so proud in her dream could suddenly act like he had no shame at all.
He had actually lowered himself to pursue her, holding out the lunchbox as if he were secretly giving a girl soldier a treat, just like the other men did.
When Shi Man didn’t take it, Ling Zhen shoved the lunchbox into her arms. “Remember to eat,” he said curtly before turning and striding away with long, hurried steps.
Shi Man guessed this was probably the first time he’d ever tried to woo someone, judging by the awkwardness practically radiating from his retreating figure.
Raising an eyebrow, she decided to open the lunchbox and see what Ling Zhen had sent.
The moment she lifted the lid, Shi Man screamed and dropped the box in fright.
It was filled with stiff, dead bugs!
Shi Man was terrified of bugs!
The “bugs” from the lunchbox scattered all over the ground, and several female soldiers passing by joined Shi Man in her screams, all horrified by the terrifying “corpses” strewn across the floor.
But Shi Man quickly realized they weren’t bugs at all. She’d seen them in her dream—a rare and precious tonic called… dongchongxiacao, she recalled.
Sure enough, Wang Dongyun, who knew their value, rushed out when she heard Shi Man’s cries. She immediately crouched down and began scooping the “bugs” back into the lunchbox.
“Manman, don’t be scared,” Wang Dongyun said reassuringly, quickly scooping up the cordyceps and sealing the lid.
She cradled the lunchbox in her arms, making sure Shi Man couldn’t see even a corner of it. “These are good for you, they just look a little scary.”
“…” Shi Man had already stopped being afraid once she realized what they were. She’d just been caught off guard for a moment.
Of course, Ling Zhen is still the same stoic, uncommunicative jerk he’d been in her dream, she thought, biting her lip in frustration. Does opening his mouth to say a few more words take all his energy?
Shi Man bit her lip in frustration, secretly holding a grudge.
Good job, Ling Zhen. Great courting skills.