Ling Zhen had to train his soldiers that evening, leaving him with only one hour of free time.
The camp was a fifty-minute round trip from Shi Man’s art troupe, so he ran there and back, cutting the travel time to just twenty minutes and leaving him over half an hour to spare.
But he didn’t even get to see Shi Man.
Teacher Wu, the leader of the dance team, came out apologetically, saying, “Comrade Shi Man is practicing very diligently and can’t be spared right now. She won’t be free until after tonight’s rehearsal ends.”
Ling Zhen nodded and sprinted back to resume training his troops within ten minutes.
After the day’s drills were finished, he ran back again.
He stood silently outside the main rehearsal hall, as straight as a towering tree under the moonlight, unmoving and more rigidly upright than a soldier standing at attention.
Many female soldiers curiously opened their windows and peeked out at him.
Their gazes landed on him one after another, but he remained completely unaffected.
Ling Zhen had always been like this, deaf to worldly distractions, focused solely on the task at hand.
And now, he stood there, conspicuously and silently waiting for Shi Man.
Shi Man had just finished rehearsing when she saw a crowd of female soldiers gathered at the windows, chattering and peering outside.
A sudden premonition struck her, and she grabbed Wang Dongyun’s arm. “What are they all looking at?”
Wang Dongyun, always eager for gossip, peered out the window and then rushed back. “Commander Ling is still waiting for you outside.”
“Oh no!” Shi Man exclaimed, reacting quickly. “I haven’t perfected a move yet. I need to practice upstairs.”
Wang Dongyun watched, puzzled, as Shi Man hurried away.
Shi Man quickly made her way to the small practice room on the second-floor corridor, avoiding both the envious glances of the other female soldiers and Ling Zhen himself.
She couldn’t understand why Ling Zhen insisted on seeing her, just as she couldn’t explain her own desperate reluctance to face him.
Ling Zhen, standing nearly six feet three inches tall beneath the locust tree by the main gate, was a strikingly handsome and imposing figure.
As the female soldiers filed out, one after another, they couldn’t resist stealing glances at him.
Even those who had never met Ling Zhen knew who he was. There were only a handful of men in the entire military region who stood over six feet two inches tall, and his sharply tailored woolen uniform with four pockets clearly marked him as an officer of battalion level or higher, making his identity obvious.
The female soldiers watched with envy. One of the bolder ones walked up and asked, “Commander Ling, who are you looking for?”
Ling Zhen rarely answered, but this time he replied, “Waiting for Shi Man.” The three words dropped like icy rocks, chilling the questioner’s cheeks until they ached and stiffened.
No one dared approach him again.
As more female soldiers left their evening practices—not just from the dance team, but also from the choir, folk arts team, creative team, and stagecraft team—everyone knew: because Shi Man had rejected Commander Ling, he might be bitter and had come to the art troupe to settle the score.
Ling Zhen’s stern expression looked downright menacing. No one imagined he was trying to win her back; they quietly mourned for Shi Man.
The crowd lingered, unwilling to leave. Some strolled nearby, others watched the moon, all waiting for the drama to unfold.
But as the lights-out bugle neared, Shi Man still hadn’t emerged.
Only a faint light remained in the second-floor practice room—Shi Man was likely there.
Ling Zhen glanced at the window, his eyes darkening slightly. Without another word, he turned and disappeared into the night.
Everyone was disappointed they hadn’t witnessed the dramatic scene, but that didn’t stop them from gossiping about it.
The stories spread like wildfire: how the art troupe’s “most beautiful flower” had haughtily rejected Commander Ling, a handsome officer with a promising future. How Commander Ling had waited forlornly beneath the locust tree outside the main rehearsal hall.
Whether they’d seen it firsthand or just heard about it, everyone told the story with conviction, each retelling adding fuel to the rumor mill.
In just a day and a night, the gossip had spread throughout the entire military region.
Some were envious, some jealous, some green with envy, and others offered their blessings—none of this needs to be said.
But what truly stunned everyone were the reactions of the female soldiers secretly in love with Ling Zhen and the men in his unit.
They were dumbfounded. Not only had Ling Zhen, who seemed destined to remain single forever, actually gone on a date, but he’d been rejected!
Then they learned that Shi Man had only recently joined the art troupe and been assigned to the First Squad of the dance members. With a performance scheduled for tonight, many decided they had to see her for themselves—to see just what kind of otherworldly beauty she possessed!
***
Shi Man had a feeling she was about to become famous.
After all, Ling Zhen had made quite a scene last night. Just standing there, even without saying a word, had set everyone’s imaginations running wild.
After thinking about it all day, Shi Man figured Ling Zhen was simply upset at being rejected. He’d never been refused before, and his pride couldn’t take it. That’s why he’d come to confront her.
He must have been furious to lose his composure like that. Otherwise, with his rigid and old-fashioned nature, he would never have stormed her door, stood there under everyone’s gawking eyes, and stayed for so long.
This thought made Shi Man feel a surge of satisfaction. In her nightmares, no matter how she struggled, Ling Zhen remained immovable as a mountain. Now that she had finally thrown him off balance, she felt like she’d won a round.
However, her good mood quickly soured when she realized she’d be treated like a circus act on stage that night.
The afternoon was spent rehearsing for the evening’s performance.
Everyone was already familiar with the dance routine. But since Shi Man had just joined, the formations needed adjustments. Jiang Lanfang, ever the perfectionist, insisted on extra practice to avoid any mishaps on stage.
Suddenly, Teacher Wu was called out by a messenger. He returned a few minutes later, his face beaming, and announced, “Everyone, let’s put our best foot forward tonight! Practice hard!”
Jiang Lanfang immediately understood. “Is the Senior Commander coming to watch our performance tonight?”
Teacher Wu, clutching his large tea mug, took a mysterious sip. “Focus on practicing hard.”
Jiang Lanfang was instantly energized, clapping her hands. “Did you all hear that? Everyone, work extra hard! Let’s make First Squad shine and earn some glory!”
Shi Man didn’t care much about impressing the senior commander, but Jiang Lanfang’s perfectionist spirit inspired her. The other female soldiers in Squad One were also working diligently. Though she was delicate and easily tired, she refused to hold the team back, focusing intently on the movements.
Wang Dongyun practiced with fierce determination, cherishing every chance to perform on stage. Though her legs had a slight coordination issue, she danced without difficulty as long as the moves weren’t overly complex. Her years of dance training gave her a graceful, professional style that stood out among the others.
Sweat poured as the dancers moved. Jiang Lanfang pushed them harder than usual, scrutinizing every detail, even the direction of their hair flicks. Yet no one complained. They silently repeated the same movements, again and again.
By the time they went to the cafeteria for dinner, everyone looked like they’d just been pulled from the water, drenched in sweat.
The hot, dry summer wind slapped their faces, making their hair and underwear stick uncomfortably to their bodies.
Jiang Lanfang told them to grab steamed buns to eat on the way and gave everyone twenty minutes to shower and wash their hair. Then they were to change into their performance uniforms, braid their hair into pigtails, and gather at the pavilion to wait for their cue.
But she called Shi Man and Wang Dongyun aside.
“Manman, Dongyun,” Jiang Lanfang said, biting her lip as if embarrassed, “you two don’t need to perform tonight.”
Wang Dongyun looked disappointed, but she seemed used to this and had probably guessed it would happen. She quickly accepted it, nodding obediently. “Okay, Leader Jiang.”
Shi Man, however, didn’t take it so easily. They had overcome their own difficulties and practiced so hard for so long. Now she was being told they didn’t need to go?
“Why not, Leader Jiang?” Shi Man asked directly. “We’re part of Squad One too. The Director always said each squad is a team, and we should all perform together, come what may.”
Jiang Lanfang hadn’t expected Shi Man, who looked so delicate, to be so stubborn, even quoting the Director’s words.
Her tone hardened as she emphasized, “This is an order.”
Shi Man persisted, “Whose order is it—Leader Jiang’s or someone else’s? If we can’t perform, at least tell us why. We deserve to know why we’re being sidelined.”
Shi Man wasn’t someone to be pushed around. She’d even stood up to the intimidating Ling Zhen, let alone anyone else.
Jiang Lanfang had never encountered such a rebellious member before. Her willow-leaf eyebrows furrowed as she forced herself to explain calmly, “Shi Man, you’re new to Squad One and haven’t performed in any formal shows yet. Today, the Senior Commander is visiting, and your lack of experience makes you unsuitable for the stage.”
In other words, they were worried Shi Man’s lack of experience might cause a mishap that would ruin Squad One’s impression on the senior commander.
“What about Wang Dongyun?” Shi Man countered, even more indignant for her friend. “Dongyun has plenty of performance experience, doesn’t she?”
“Dongyun’s legs aren’t up to it,” Jiang Lanfang said, trotting out her usual excuse.
“But she doesn’t need to do any fancy flips today,” Shi Man retorted, sticking up for Wang Dongyun. “Besides, she dances so well. Why not let her perform?”
Wang Dongyun, wanting to avoid a conflict between Shi Man and Jiang Lanfang, quietly tugged at Shi Man’s sleeve.
Shi Man, stubborn as ever, refused to back down, especially since she felt she was completely in the right this time. She’d always thought Jiang Lanfang was kind, letting Wang Dongyun rest more out of concern.
But seeing Wang Dongyun’s legs trembling with exhaustion as she gritted her teeth, refusing to lower her pointed toes, Shi Man realized how much Wang Dongyun loved to dance—and how much she was being denied.
Jiang Lanfang, equally unwilling to argue, shrugged, her stubborn expression shattering the usual softness of her face. “I’m the squad leader. I’m ordering you both to rest tonight. Please obey.”
With that, Jiang Lanfang left, leaving Shi Man to roll her eyes in frustration.
Wang Dongyun, ever patient, patted Shi Man’s back. “It’s okay, Manman. Don’t be mad. I’ll treat you to red shrimp crisps, okay?”
“It’s been a while since I’ve been on stage, so I’m bound to be a bit rusty. Leader Jiang is just thinking about what’s best for the whole team,” Wang Dongyun said, always quick to reassure herself and find excuses for others.
Shi Man scoffed, “The whole team is a group. Why are they leaving us out?”
Suddenly, she realized, “Wait, you haven’t been on stage in a while?”
Wang Dongyun lowered her head, looking dejected. “Yeah… I might not get another chance.”
She didn’t mention Jiang Lanfang’s deliberate attempts to undermine her, only saying, “If I don’t get an A Grade in the quarterly assessment for three times in a row, I’ll be demoted to Third Squad or lower.”
Wang Dongyun had gotten B Grades in the previous two assessments.
Due to lingering effects from a leg injury, her tumbling routines were always a bit clumsy, costing her points.
If she failed to get an A Grade in the upcoming autumn assessment, she…
Shi Man suddenly put her arm around Wang Dongyun’s shoulder. “Don’t give up! You can do it!”
“Really?” Wang Dongyun didn’t have much confidence, but as she stared at Shi Man’s upturned, beautiful eyes and heard her reply, “Of course! You’re my sister, after all,” a flicker of hope seemed to reignite within her.
***
Behind the curtain, the announcer was calling out the dance programs for First Squad’s performance tonight. Jiang Lanfang peeked through the curtains at the audience.
What she saw startled her.
Tonight’s crowd was exceptionally large!
Every long bench was packed, and many more people were standing, waiting for the show to start. Their eager, serious expressions were a stark contrast to the usual casual atmosphere.
Moreover, the front row was filled with officers in four-pocket military uniforms!
So the “Commanders” Teacher Wu had mentioned weren’t just one person!
Jiang Lanfang suddenly felt both nervous and excited, her head swimming with that familiar dizziness that only came with important performances.
Unsure why there were so many people tonight, she turned and reminded her teammates behind her to dance their best.
Then, chest puffed out and head held high, she led Squad One onto the stage with confident strides.
The announcer had just finished reading the long list of Squad One’s performances.
Jiang Lanfang stood still, tugging at the hem of her uniform, when she noticed the audience’s chatter grew louder.
People were whispering, pointing at the stage, as if looking for someone.
The music’s intro slowly drifted from the double-cassette recorder through the loudspeakers, yet it couldn’t drown out the audience’s voices.
Jiang Lanfang struck her starting pose, ready to kick her leg, but the audience’s strange behavior puzzled her.
Standing close to the front row, she suddenly overheard the senior commander asking a passing officer, “What’s going on? Why isn’t Comrade Shi Man on stage?”
Jiang Lanfang stumbled, finally realizing—
Everyone had come to see Shi Man?!