It had to be said—most of the cultural soldiers in the dance troupe were extremely perceptive, probably because of their artistic background.
The moment they caught the word “again” in what Director Zhang and Wang Dongyun said, their imaginations immediately ran wild.
“Besides the chair dance, what other dances has Manman choreographed?”
“How come we’ve never seen them? I really want to!”
“Manman, you can’t keep all your talent to yourself. Since you can choreograph, make more dances! We’re already tired of performing the same old ones—and so is the audience.”
“……”
The female soldiers who were closer to Shi Man surrounded her, chattering nonstop with questions.
Only then did Zhang Zhixin and Wang Dongyun realize that, in their moment of happiness, they had let something slip.
Neither of them dared to look at the helpless glance Shi Man shot their way. They clamped their mouths shut, afraid of saying anything else wrong.
Some of the sharper girls had already connected the dots.
“Manman… don’t tell me the puppet dance was also choreographed by you?”
“That makes sense! Dongyun’s leg had been injured for so long and she never came up with it—yet once you arrived, everything changed.”
“I always felt the puppet dance didn’t seem like Dongyun’s style. She’s never choreographed anything before.”
“It suits Wang Dongyun perfectly, but somehow it just doesn’t feel like it belongs to her.”
Everyone kept mentioning Wang Dongyun.
Her eyes looked like those of a damp little puppy. She hesitated to speak, biting her lip lightly.
Seeing that there was no way to hide it anymore, Shi Man pressed her fingers to her brow and sighed.
“Sorry. I was the one who asked Dongyun to keep it from everyone,” she said helplessly. “Her puppet dance was indeed choreographed by me. But it looks best only when she performs it, so I fully supported her dancing this solo.”
Everyone suddenly understood.
So it wasn’t that Wang Dongyun had stolen credit—it was simply deep sisterly affection. It didn’t matter who got the honor.
The looks the female soldiers gave Shi Man became even more starry-eyed.
“Manman, what do you think of me? What kind of dance would suit me? Could you choreograph one for me?”
“Manman, if you choreograph a dance for me, I’ll pay you! Whatever you want—as long as I have it.”
“Manman, you’re so amazing. Please help me too! If I ever did anything wrong before, I apologize. I hope you won’t take it to heart.”
Once they learned that the puppet dance—now exclusive to Wang Dongyun—came from Shi Man, their enthusiasm toward her burned even hotter.
Many of them regretted not getting close to Shi Man earlier, like Wang Dongyun had.
Being best friends with Shi Man was an absolute win.
A tide of enthusiasm quietly flowed toward Shi Man in the courtyard, making both Jiang Lanfang and Yao Wenjing look unpleasant.
Yao Wenjing was purely jealous.
Jiang Lanfang, however, felt something closer to loss.
In the past, she had been the absolute authority in the courtyard. As troupe leader of the first squad, who didn’t flatter her, admire her, and obey her? Everyone sought her approval and the benefits that came with it.
But now, watching everyone gather around Shi Man instead, Jiang Lanfang felt as though something was slipping through her fingers.
“Alright, everyone, quiet down. Continue listening.” Zhang Zhixin, in a particularly good mood today, let everyone make noise for a while before restoring order. “Next, I’ll read another commendation letter and a letter of thanks.”
“First, this letter of thanks was jointly sent by the quarry’s leadership and the working masses, addressed to Shi Man.”
The letter poured all of their gratitude for Shi Man into words. Between the lines were simple yet heartfelt blessings.
Many female soldiers felt their noses sting as they listened, sensing that Shi Man had done something truly remarkable.
Yao Wenjing, however, sneered inwardly. A bunch of country folk with no worldly experience—getting this enthusiastic just from watching Shi Man dance. Was it really necessary?
She would never understand that the spiritual support Shi Man brought them had helped many endure the darkest period of their lives, emerge from the gloom, and discover spring once more.
The next commendation letter Zhang Zhixin read left Yao Wenjing utterly stunned, and Jiang Lanfang’s expression turned subtle as well.
It was written by an old senior leader to the troupe, lavishly praising Shi Man’s artistic ability and ideological awareness.
Everyone was shaken.
Who could have imagined that the quarry housed such a high-ranking senior leader? And none of them had known!
Shi Man had truly struck gold.
As they listened to the old leader’s glowing praise, some felt envious, while others’ expressions grew darker.
Zhang Zhixin’s voice only grew louder and louder as he read. A leader of that rank personally writing a letter to commend Shi Man felt almost like praise directed at him, it filled him with pride.
Sure enough, once he finished reading, Zhang Zhixin’s face flushed with excitement.
“Comrade Shi Man has done exceptionally well. This time, she’s brought great honor to our entire cultural troupe.”
Yao Wenjing thought bitterly: I almost went to the quarry. Why didn’t I go?
At that moment, Zhang Zhixin announced another bombshell.
“In consideration of the recent contributions and outstanding performance of Comrades Shi Man and Wang Dongyun, effective immediately, they will both serve as deputy squad leaders of Squad One. The official documents will be issued tomorrow, and I’ll read them then.”
The announcement sent shockwaves through the crowd.
Everyone, no matter what they were doing, looked up in astonishment.
Deputy squad leader!
Wasn’t that a promotion?
Wang Dongyun aside—she had been in First Squad for a long time and had the seniority.
But Shi Man… she hadn’t even joined the troupe for that long, let alone Squad One.
At the instant they heard about Shi Man’s promotion, everyone had to admit they felt a fierce mix of envy and jealousy.
Each squad could only have one leader, but two or three deputy leaders.
The deputy leader position in Squad One had been vacant for a long time. Everyone had worked hard—training relentlessly, performing tirelessly, even taking the stage while injured—all while harboring a bit of ambition for that spot.
No one expected that, in a single day, both positions would be filled.
A sense of loss inevitably followed.
But after the initial shock, they gradually accepted it.
They were completely convinced by Shi Man.
She could choreograph such incredible dances, had received letters of praise from a senior leader and letters of gratitude from the masses—she fully deserved it.
She was even qualified to be Squad One’s leader.
Jiang Lanfang’s face stiffened for a moment, but seeing that the regiment commander, deputy commander, and the troupe members all quickly accepted the decision, she smiled and walked over.
“Congratulations, Manman. And Dongyun too,” she said gently. “From now on, you’re both cadres of Squad One. I hope you’ll keep up the good work and help me manage the team well, bringing us even more wonderful performances.”
Zhang Zhixin was very satisfied with her words and nodded with a smile.
“See? Comrade Lanfang truly lives up to her years as captain—such eloquence.”
Everyone else chimed in with laughter.
“Please rest assured, leaders! We’ll follow Leader Jiang, Deputy Squad Leader Shi, and Deputy Squad Leader Wang’s instructions! Train well! Perform well!”
The courtyard was filled with laughter and cheer.
Only Yao Wenjing stood in an inconspicuous corner, trembling with rage, her face ashen.
No one paid her any attention.
She was utterly useless.
She hadn’t gone to the quarry because she wanted to perform at the People’s Grand Hall.
But she hadn’t made it onto that stage either.
Everything had come to nothing.
She had wanted a promotion so badly, worked herself to the bone—yet Shi Man simply went to the quarry once and returned with an easy promotion.
And that chance to go to the quarry… she herself had given it away.
Yao Wenjing’s regret twisted her guts until she felt like vomiting blood.
If she’d known there was such a high-ranking leader at the quarry, would she have skipped it?
She suddenly recalled how readily Shi Man had agreed at the time—it had felt strange even then.
Sure enough, Shi Man must have known in advance.
That’s right—Ling Zhen had gone too. He probably told Shi Man early on, letting her pick up such a huge windfall.
The more Yao Wenjing thought about it, the worse she felt—like a treasure that had been in her hands was snatched away by someone else.
She was certain Qin Junbao knew as well, yet didn’t tell her. If only he’d said the quarry performance was for a senior leader!
They’re all in this together, bullying me!
***
The news of Shi Man’s promotion quickly spread through the art troupe—bringing joy to some and fury to others.
Not long after, Ling Zhen’s unit had practically all heard about it too.
Zhong Lin secretly observed his own commander.
No expression. No reaction.
It made Zhong Lin anxious.
If the commander wouldn’t take the hint, he’d have to do it himself.
So Zhong Lin deliberately beat around the bush, dropping hints.
“Commander, Sister Manman’s been promoted to deputy captain.”
“I know.” Ling Zhen’s expression was calm.
Zhong Lin had no choice but to be more obvious.
“Aren’t you going to congratulate her?”
Ling Zhen, who had been doing push-ups in a smooth, steady rhythm, lifted his head. After a three-second pause, he said, “She doesn’t need it.”
Then he lowered himself again, arms flexing, muscles taut.
Ling Zhen understood Shi Man well.
She truly didn’t care about ranks or titles, nor did she show much interest in the benefits that came with promotion.
For Shi Man, it was always about doing what she wanted, following her own heart.
Zhong Lin didn’t know all this—but he didn’t need to.
He only knew that whether the girl cared or not, this was a perfect chance to give a gift, show affection, and pursue her!
Zhong Lin practically shouted these thoughts out loud.
Ling Zhen froze.
This time, Zhong Lin felt a little regretful—maybe his attitude toward the commander had gone too far.
It was just that Ling Zhen had no airs, exuded such a strong sense of security and masculine presence. Zhong Lin had grown up without an older brother and always longed for one, so he subconsciously treated Ling Zhen like a brother, worrying endlessly on his behalf.
While Zhong Lin was feeling uneasy, he suddenly heard Ling Zhen ask, “That’s reasonable. What should I give her?”
In that instant, Zhong Lin felt as if an iron tree had finally bloomed. He was so moved he nearly cried.
“I asked Sister Manman before,” he said eagerly. “She likes pretty dresses the most.”
Ling Zhen stood up, pulled off his sweat-soaked white undershirt, the moisture on his face making his eyes look even sharper.
He stared at Zhong Lin. “When did you ask?”
Zhong Lin felt a chill down his spine.
“That time we rode the military jeep to the quarry.”
“Don’t remember.” Ling Zhen grabbed a towel and wiped himself casually, sweat dripping from his jaw onto the floor.
“……”
Zhong Lin was helpless. The commander was too serious—when he drove, he only drove, actually not listening to anything Sister Manman said.
He repeated himself.
“Commander, if you give Sister Manman a dress to congratulate her, she’ll definitely be happy.”
Ling Zhen neither confirmed nor denied it.
He recalled that in his past life, Shi Man had indeed loved buying pretty clothes and jewelry. In the beginning, she even liked asking him which color looked better or whether something should be hemmed—only for his answers to make her angry every time.
He didn’t quite understand it.
To him, a crisp, well-fitted green military uniform was the best-looking outfit there was. The colors and styles of dresses all seemed the same to him—none could compare to a uniform.
Ling Zhen wore only military uniforms.
But that didn’t stop him from thinking Zhong Lin’s suggestion was a good one.
Imagining Shi Man smiling in a new dress, his lips pressed together slightly.
As the autumn glow of dusk faded, the sky was clear and the moon bright.
Over at the pavilion of the cultural troupe, it was First Squad’s turn to perform again.
Ling Zhen sat in the front row, posture straight and proper. Not a single extra crease marred the hem of his uniform.
Yet the bundle resting on his legs was completely at odds with his cold, imposing aura.
Many people couldn’t help glancing at it.
It was wrapped in floral cloth—vivid, eye-searing red. Paired with Ling Zhen’s uniform, it was impossible not to notice.
Shi Man saw it even while she was still dancing onstage.
She refused to admit that the thing was meant for her. Once the performance ended, she planned to slip away through the back.
Who knew Ling Zhen seemed to read her mind—he was already blocking the back door.
With no choice, Shi Man walked over.
Sure enough, he handed her the floral bundle.
“Congratulations,” he said simply.
Even at the back entrance, there were many performers coming and going. They all secretly paid attention, thinking: Commander Ling really is relentless—bringing gifts all the way here.
Shi Man’s eye twitched.
She really wanted to say she couldn’t bear this kind of “pursuit.”
The closer the bundle got, the stronger her sense of impending doom became.
It looked like clothes inside—soft and bulky—but just the rustic fabric already made her reluctant to touch it.
Seeing she wouldn’t take it, Ling Zhen simply stuffed it into her arms, telling her it was a dress.
But the moment she heard the word “dress,” Shi Man’s brow jumped even harder.
She shoved it back forcefully.
“I don’t want it.”
Ling Zhen insisted on giving it to her.
As they pushed it back and forth, the bundle suddenly fell to the ground and burst open.
In full view of everyone—
A dress spilled out.
A countryside-green dress covered in large, bright red flowers. The empty spaces were studded with blinding sequins, topped off with a layer of shiny pink tulle.
It lay right at Shi Man’s feet.
The surroundings seemed to fall silent.
Shi Man wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole in the ground.
…Help.
…It was hideously tacky!!!