Ling Zhen seemed not to hear Shi Man’s question. His lips were pressed into a thin line, his slender fingers gripping the steering wheel, his gaze fixed on the road ahead—his entire world narrowed to that strip of asphalt.
Shi Man had only been willing to be civil to him because he had helped her with her motion sickness. But he was acting like he had no ears, completely ignoring her.
She knew this stubborn side of him all too well: whenever he didn’t want to answer a question, he would simply remain silent.
It wasn’t that he hadn’t heard her; he just refused to lie, so he avoided answering altogether.
Shi Man couldn’t understand why something as simple as a battle cry was off-limits. Was it some kind of secret mission?
She wasn’t particularly interested anyway. If Ling Zhen wanted to keep it a secret, she wouldn’t pry.
She glanced back at the road behind them. The air was thick with dust and sand, kicked up by the tires of their vehicle. The yellow earth road meant that the rolling wheels had stirred up so much sand that it obscured most of their vision.
Shi Man couldn’t see if Zhong Lin was still there, so she turned to Ling Zhen and asked, “Why did you make Zhong Lin get out? How’s he supposed to get to the Quarry from here?”
Ling Zhen remained silent, focused on driving, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.
Shi Man clicked her tongue, on the verge of losing her temper.
Finally, as if he’d just noticed her, he glanced her way and tossed over three curt words: “He likes it.”
Then he fell silent again.
Shi Man hated this sullen demeanor of his, which seemed to merge with the suffocating gloom of her dreams, leaving her breathless.
Thank goodness that was just a dream, she thought. Thank goodness I didn’t marry Ling Zhen.
Settling into the jeep, she decided to ignore him completely, treating him like air. She leaned back against the seat, closed her eyes, and drifted off to sleep.
His only redeeming quality was his excellent driving skills. Shi Man gradually fell into a deep, peaceful slumber, as if floating in a cozy cloud bubble.
***
Back at the art troupe, which now felt like a distant memory, everyone found out about Shi Man’s solo dance performance at the quarry only after she’d already left.
“Why didn’t Manman tell us?”
“Yeah, we wouldn’t have known there was a performance at the quarry if we hadn’t noticed she was gone.”
“So what if she had told us? Would you have gone to suffer in her place?”
“…Why are you being so harsh? At least we could have seen her off and offered some comfort.”
Many of the female soldiers who were close to Shi Man were worried about her. Everyone knew the quarry’s conditions were rough. Shi Man was too delicate, like a fragile flower suddenly transplanted into barren, rocky soil. Even just two days in such a place would surely wither her.
Jiang Lanfang cleared her throat, reminding everyone, “Alright, instead of dwelling on this, let’s focus on perfecting our performance at the Great Hall of the People.”
Jiang Lanfang didn’t care where Shi Man performed or what hardships she endured. All that mattered was ensuring their performance went flawlessly, leaving the deepest and best impression on the commanders.
As the leader of First Squad, Jiang Lanfang was the oldest and most respected member. Everyone followed her lead.
So, naturally, everyone tried to be friendly with people she liked, while instinctively keeping their distance from those she didn’t approve of, like Shi Man and Wang Dongyun. No one dared say too much for fear of upsetting Jiang Lanfang.
After all, Jiang Lanfang had considerable say in many decisions.
For example, even though Yao Wenjing had managed to get Shi Man sent away, she still didn’t get to perform in the Great Hall of the People. As the squad leader, Jiang Lanfang could decide who made the cut, and she made it clear she didn’t want Yao Wenjing.
Frustrated, Yao Wenjing could only stretch her legs under the grapevines in the courtyard, watching enviously as Jiang Lanfang discussed formations with the other dancers. She longed to join them but could only sigh wistfully.
Still, the thought of Shi Man suffering even worse conditions at the Quarry brought Yao Wenjing a sliver of consolation.
***
Meanwhile, Ling Zhen and his team finally arrived at the Quarry after driving all morning.
They had set out at dawn and arrived just in time for lunch.
Shi Man woke up when she smelled the savory aroma of meat broth wafting from the cook’s giant pot.
She realized the jeep had been parked for quite some time, and she had been asleep the whole time. Ling Zhen was nowhere to be seen, but he had left his military jacket draped over her.
Beneath the savory meat scent, she could still catch the faint, clean scent of Ling Zhen’s clothes—a subtle hint of soap.
Unlike some of the other men in the military who reeked of sweat and rarely bothered to bathe or change, Ling Zhen was meticulous about cleanliness.
Perhaps it was because he had spent his childhood living among wolves, never experiencing the routines of human society. As a result, he performed tasks like bathing, brushing his teeth, and washing clothes with clockwork precision.
During their marriage, Ling Zhen had always taken care of Shi Man’s laundry as well.
Shi Man suddenly remembered the first time he had washed her underwear and shorts. Having never washed such delicate items before, and newly married, his usually stern face had shown a rare flicker of awkwardness and confusion.
That was the moment Shi Man had found him utterly endearing.
She had told him to scrub each corner of his shorts and underwear nine times, front and back, with extra care.
He had asked, quite seriously, “How many times?”
“Uh… nine times,” Shi Man had said casually, never expecting him to actually follow through. But from that day on, Ling Zhen scrubbed every corner exactly nine times—no more, no less, never deviating from the count.
It was ridiculous.
Shi Man found herself occasionally observing these details out of sheer boredom, which she admitted was equally dull.
She tossed aside Ling Zhen’s clothes, opened the car door, and stepped out.
The backseat was empty; she wondered where Ling Zhen had put all the luggage.
Rubbing her stiff neck, Shi Man walked toward the crowd.
The soldiers, having been on the road for so long, were hungry. They stood in line with their bowls around the large pot set up by the cooks, taking turns getting their meals.
For some reason, Shi Man sensed the soldiers were giving her odd, knowing glances. Just then, Zhong Lin ran over, eagerly saying, “Sister Manman, I’ll take you to your quarters. Commander Ling already got your food—it’s over there.”
The soldiers camped outside the quarry because the area was covered in jagged rocks. Inside the quarry, there were only two single-story buildings, barely cleared from the rocky terrain. The rest remained an inhospitable expanse of jagged stone, utterly uninhabitable.
One of the buildings served as the quarry’s office, while the other contained a bed, a table, and chairs, making it habitable.
Originally intended for Ling Zhen, he insisted Shi Man take it instead, choosing to share a tent with the other soldiers outside.
Shi Man, being a woman, would find camping inconvenient, and a solid building offered far more convenience.
However, the building was dilapidated, providing little comfort beyond basic shelter from the wind and rain.
The table wobbled precariously; even placing a lunchbox on it felt risky, as if the weight might collapse it.
Despite the long drive, Shi Man wasn’t hungry at all.
After checking that her luggage was safe inside, she grabbed a washbasin, intending to fetch water and wash her face. But after searching everywhere, she couldn’t find any water source.
“Sister Manman, the quarry’s water has to be carried from a distant stream,” Zhong Lin explained, noticing her search. “There’s no well here.”
“How far is it?” Shi Man asked.
“About half an hour’s walk,” Zhong Lin replied after a quick calculation.
Only then did Shi Man realize how precious water was at the quarry. She silently put away her basin, enduring the sticky discomfort on her face.
Suddenly, she saw Ling Zhen approaching across the rocky ground, carrying two buckets of water in each hand with effortless ease. While others struggled to navigate the treacherous crevices, he moved as if walking on flat ground.
His strength was terrifying. He set down the four brimming buckets without spilling a drop.
Shi Man glanced at his bulging arm muscles as he bent to place the buckets, impressed by their sheer power.
It was clear these four buckets were for her. He knew she was meticulous about cleanliness and used water generously.
Seeing the clear stream water sloshing in the buckets lifted Shi Man’s spirits. Her anger toward Ling Zhen softened, and she managed a grudging, “Thank you.”
Ling Zhen brushed off the water droplets on his uniform and walked away in silence.
Growing anxious, Zhong Lin chased after him. “Commander Ling, didn’t you say you were going to pursue Sister Manman?”
Ling Zhen paused, recalling that he had already delivered the Cordyceps to her.
Ling Zhen replied casually, “I already pursued her.”
Zhong Lin stared at him, his face a mask of confusion. Seeing Ling Zhen about to walk away again, he hurried after him. “Director, you can’t think pursuing someone only takes one try, can you?”
Now it was Ling Zhen’s turn to slowly float a question mark. “How many times should I do it?”
Zhong Lin was speechless. It seemed his commander was a master of everything—a true jack-of-all-trades—except when it came to romance. He was completely clueless.
But no matter, Zhong Lin thought. I’m here to help.
Remembering the rousing slogans the men had shouted in the truck earlier, Zhong Lin puffed out his chest and declared, “Director, you can trust me with this! I’ll tell you exactly what to do!”
Ling Zhen sized him up, his gaze lingering with the same cautious intensity he reserved for hunting.
Zhong Lin pressed his case even more earnestly. “Director, you absolutely must trust me! Put your mind at ease! I have five older sisters at home—no one understands women’s hearts better than I do!”
That afternoon, Ling Zhen visited the senior commander deep within the quarry to report on his mission and resolve a series of handover issues with the soldiers.
After a quick cleanup, Shi Man explored the quarry, looking for a natural stone stage for her performance tomorrow.
Walking around, she fully realized how harsh the quarry environment was.
She simply wanted a large, flat rock where she could do a few somersaults, but there wasn’t one to be found.
Instead, there were vast stretches of jagged, unstable rocks, perfect for quarrying but extremely dangerous.
Workers risked scraping their skin, tripping, and even suffering fatal head injuries from falls.
The quarry wasn’t just rocky and chaotic; it was also terribly dry and water-scarce, despite being located in the capital outskirts, only a few hours’ drive from Jingbei City.
Yet it felt like a completely different world.
Apart from the garrisoned soldiers, almost everyone here was undergoing labor reform.
Some had families, while others were alone, all forced to perform heavy manual labor: hauling rocks, cutting stones, and grinding them smooth.
Their diet consisted mainly of steamed buns and thin porridge, and they were grateful simply to have enough to eat.
The harsh winds and sand roughened their skin, and malnutrition left them pale and gaunt—none of them looked well.
During her wanderings, Shi Man encountered a middle-aged woman carrying a heavy basket of rocks on her back. The woman kindly offered to show her around.
During a casual conversation with the woman, Shi Man learned about life at the quarry.
In passing, she discovered the woman wasn’t middle-aged at all, but had just turned twenty.
I can’t believe it, Shi Man thought, suppressing her shock. For a long moment, she didn’t know how to respond.
The quarry was vast, with workers scattered across its expanse. Yet they all looked tired and old, their faces weathered and rough.
Seeing them reminded Shi Man of her parents. If conditions were this harsh at a quarry near the capital, she wondered how much harder life must be for her parents in the frontier regions.
I wonder if they ever get visits from art soldiers who perform dances for them.
Probably not.
Even the quarry workers here were only getting a performance because of the senior commander’s impending departure.
To honor his retirement, the quarry leaders had requested a dance team from the art troupe for a farewell ceremony.
As Shi Man walked around the quarry, many couldn’t help but stare at her.
Her skin was so pale and delicate, like a sandstorm could cut it to ribbons. She seemed completely out of place in this rugged, dusty environment.
If she hadn’t been wearing a military uniform, and everyone knew she was an art soldier sent to perform, they would have rushed over to ask where she was from and called the police to report a lost young woman.
The crowd gazed at Shi Man with awe and anticipation.
It had been so long since they’d seen a dance performance. In this place, there was no entertainment—just rocks and more rocks. Even the people seemed to have been stained stone-colored, hardly different from the rocks themselves.
Shi Man’s arrival was like a splash of vibrant color.
Her green military uniform was so vibrant, her pale skin seemed to glow, her eyes sparkled like dark jewels, and her lips, painted red, resembled ripe cherries.
They were all eagerly waiting for nightfall, eager to see what kind of dance this beautiful young woman would perform.
But Shi Man was worried.
After wandering around all afternoon, her legs aching, she still hadn’t found a suitable natural stage.
Some places were too rocky, others too dusty, the wind whipping sand into her eyes.
The few flat spots she found were either too small or surrounded by jagged stones.
The quarry workshop was out of the question—it couldn’t accommodate everyone, and it was cluttered with equipment, leaving no room for her to move.
The more Shi Man wandered, the more she wondered how Yao Wenjing had managed it in the dream.
How had she found a place in the quarry to perform her acrobatic routines?
***
Ling Zhen knew what Shi Man didn’t. His deepest impression of Yao Wenjing also came from his memories of the quarry.
Yao Wenjing was truly someone who could endure hardship.
Unable to find a proper stage, she simply danced on the rocky ground.
She carefully chose her landing spots on the largest, flattest stones, flipping from one to the next.
Of course, this was incredibly dangerous, leaving no room for error.
That’s why Yao Wenjing began practicing relentlessly from her very first day there. She practiced in the afternoons, at night under the moonlight, and even with a flashlight.
Inevitably, she suffered injuries during her practice. Once, she lost her footing on a stone and fell, her foot pierced by a sharp rock edge.
Blood gushed out, but she acted as if nothing had happened, gritting her teeth as she bandaged the wound and stubbornly continued practicing.
Her explanation was that she wanted to dedicate her most perfect dance to the people who had sacrificed so much at the quarry.
So she kept practicing, and the next day, she delivered an extraordinary performance. Her flips were breathtakingly daring, yet she landed each one flawlessly.
The audience held their breath in suspense, then erupted in thunderous applause, shouting “Bravo!”
That day, the senior commander learned of Yao Wenjing’s dedication and was deeply moved. Upon returning to the art troupe, he wrote a glowing letter of commendation to the director. Before long, Yao Wenjing was promoted to officer.
Ling Zhen knew Yao Wenjing’s desperate efforts weren’t for the good of the quarry workers, but for her own advancement. Still, he had to admit, she was incredibly ruthless when it came to herself.
If only he had understood human nature better back then, he would have seen through her sooner and prevented Shi Man from becoming her best friend.
Back in the present, Ling Zhen knew Shi Man couldn’t endure Yao Wenjing’s kind of hardship. That’s why he’d told her from the start not to come here.
She couldn’t dance, so coming was pointless.
Even if she dared to tumble between the rocks and perform dance steps like Yao Wenjing, he would stop her. It was too dangerous.
Seeing Shi Man still fretting, Ling Zhen brought her dinner.
Fresh supplies had arrived today, and since they were the quarry’s “special guests,” the cook had prepared a separate meal for them: stir-fried beef with tender shoots of mountain delicacy greens, a unique wild vegetable that grew in the rocky terrain.
The stir-fry was fragrant and delicious.
Ling Zhen served everything to Shi Man and stood guard outside her door, waiting for her to finish.
Once she was full, Shi Man inevitably wanted to wander outside again, still stubbornly searching for a rock platform suitable for her performance.
Ling Zhen blocked her path, his iron-like arms forming an unyielding barrier. “You won’t find it,” he said, repeating words she hated to hear.
Frustrated, Shi Man looked up at him. “Even if I can’t find one, I still need to look! What else can I do? The performance is tomorrow afternoon, and everyone’s so excited. I can’t just tell them it’s canceled at the last minute.”
“It’s too dark and dangerous outside,” Ling Zhen said stiffly, his tone just as rigid.
Shi Man was in no mood to rest. She tried to push him aside. “Move aside! I have a flashlight, so I’m not afraid of the dark. I’m going to keep looking.”
Ling Zhen acted as if he hadn’t heard her. Instead, he closed her door.
“Go to sleep,” he called through the door. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”
Shi Man’s brow twitched as she paced her room, hands on her hips.
Ling Zhen was so stubborn. He thought it was too dark outside, with too many rocks and easy to trip, so he wouldn’t let her wander around. If she insisted on going out, he’d stand guard at her door until she gave up.
Her experiences in the dream had taught her that she couldn’t win against Ling Zhen.
Sighing, she lay down on the bed and began to empty her mind to think.
Was a spacious, flat stage really necessary? What kind of dance could she perform without one?
When Shi Man first came here, she’d just wanted better opportunities for herself.
But after seeing the hardworking, weathered laborers here, all she wanted now was to dance for them—not for anyone else, just to soothe their weary, wounded spirits, to let them breathe for a moment in this chaotic, rocky land.
***
Lost in thought, Shi Man drifted off to sleep.
The bumpy journey and her long afternoon of wandering had truly exhausted her, pushing her body to its limits.
But Shi Man was a light sleeper, especially in unfamiliar places. Despite her fatigue, she slept uneasily and woke up easily.
So, before dawn, while the sky was still a hazy gray, before the sun had even risen, Shi Man heard some sounds and woke up.
She could hear voices and the clanging of shovels and small stones not far away.
Sensing something was up, Shi Man threw on her coat, opened the door, and stepped outside.
The scene was a flurry of activity: Ling Zhen was leading a group of soldiers in moving stones.
They were talking and laughing as they worked, rising before dawn. The sky was just beginning to lighten, and the wind whistling through the rocky terrain occasionally carried words like “help” and “Sister-in-law.”
Shi Man’s long lashes fluttered as she watched Ling Zhen working shirtless, lifting massive boulders that required two hands to hold and moving them to the side.
The veins on his arms bulged, and the sweat dripping down his body made him look like a glistening wax statue.
Zhong Lin spotted Shi Man and yawned as he approached. “Sister Manman, you’re up so early?”
Shi Man countered, “Didn’t you guys sleep at all? You’ve been moving stones all night?”
“We all just woke up,” Zhong Lin said, yawning. “Only Commander Ling didn’t sleep all night. Some guys on night watch saw him moving rocks, so they woke us up to help.”
He grinned knowingly.
Shi Man felt a little awkward as she looked at the cleared and leveled ground. It wasn’t huge, but it was a world apart from how it had looked yesterday afternoon.
This was all thanks to Ling Zhen’s all-night work, with extra hands joining in near dawn.
“Don’t worry, Sister Manman,” Zhong Lin assured her. “We’ve calculated it—we’ll definitely have the stage built before your performance this afternoon.”
Shi Man bit her lip and walked over to Ling Zhen.
He was still bent over, moving rocks, sweat dripping from his chin, with beads of sweat clinging stubbornly to the corners of his eyes. His skin wasn’t pale; it had a distinctly masculine tan and rugged texture.
“Ling Zhen,” Shi Man called out.
The other soldiers erupted in teasing, shoving each other to clear the area.
Ling Zhen looked up. “Thank you,” Shi Man said. “This is plenty big enough.”
He gestured with his hand. “Not enough.”
“I said it’s enough,” Shi Man insisted, trying to push him aside. “Go get some sleep.”
She couldn’t budge him.
Ling Zhen stood like a mountain, like a tree—immovable. Unless he decided to move, Shi Man couldn’t budge him, no matter how hard she tried.
Shi Man had originally been quite grateful to Ling Zhen, but now his stubborn refusal to listen had infuriated her.
He always had his own ideas, unyielding as an iron wall.
Even now, with bloodshot eyes from exhaustion, he stood firmly rooted to the spot, showing no sign of needing sleep.
Remembering all he had done for her, Shi Man suppressed her temper and tried to reason with him gently. “If you don’t rest, you’ll have to go straight back after the afternoon performance. Can you really stay awake for an entire day and night?”
“I can,” Ling Zhen replied after a moment’s thought.
“……” Shi Man finally lost her patience. “Fine, I can’t be bothered with you anymore. Sleep or don’t, whatever.”
She went to inform Zhong Lin that the group didn’t need to work so hard. The stage was already sufficient, and everyone should rest.
Zhong Lin and the other soldiers obeyed immediately, withdrawing as instructed.
This stark contrast made Shi Man glare fiercely at Ling Zhen again.
Ling Zhen was utterly baffled. He had seen Shi Man dance in so many vast spaces, and this small clearing was clearly inadequate.
He was simply afraid she would push herself too hard, like Yao Wenjing had done.
Yet she was inexplicably angry at him, and he had no idea what he had done to provoke her.
Even after being reborn, this remained one of Ling Zhen’s persistent mysteries—
What’s wrong with her?