“I’m sure she used some kind of trick,” Jiang Miao asserted.
Just then, Fan Xue returned and overheard her. “What trick? Who are you talking about?”
Jiang Miao naturally didn’t dare admit she was talking about Ye Zhiqiu. “No one in particular.”
Sure, she had no problem slinging mud at Ye Zhiqiu behind her back, but if those words ever got back to her, she was genuinely afraid Ye Zhiqiu would confront her face to face.
Wen Shengnan spoke up, “Fan Xue, Miao Miao and I were sitting here listening to you laughing it up next door. What were you all talking about?”
Fan Xue answered honestly, “We were looking at Zhiqiu’s family portrait. Her daughter is absolutely adorable.”
“With the one-child policy now, you’re only allowed to have one. Even if Zhiqiu had a daughter, no matter how pretty she is, wouldn’t the grandparents be disappointed?”
Fan Xue frowned at Wen Shengnan. “Shengnan, is it because you’re a girl that your grandparents didn’t like you?”
Wen Shengnan shook her head. “No, not at all. My grandfather actually gave me the name ‘Shengnan’—which means ‘surpassing men.’ He said I was better than any boy.”
“Then that’s strange. If you were loved by your grandparents, why would you assume a girl wouldn’t be?”
“From what I’ve heard, General Yue and Mr. Wan absolutely adore Yaya.”
Fan Xue watched Wen Shengnan as she spoke, and a flicker of embarrassment crossed her face. “Oh, look at me—I misspoke. What I meant was, a family like General Yue’s would probably prefer a grandson.”
“General Yue and Mr. Wan are both revolutionary pioneers. They don’t have that kind of feudal mindset.”
“Grandson or granddaughter—they’re still their own flesh and blood.”
Fan Xue could tell exactly what Wen Shengnan was implying and found it ridiculous. “Shengnan, I never would’ve guessed. You’re so young, but you’re pretty feudal yourself—and sexist to boot!”
“This is the first time I’ve met such an old-fashioned person like you. Truly rare.”
Han Shengnan put on a hurt expression, and Jiang Miao rushed to defend her. “Fan Xue, why are you talking to Shengnan like that? She was just making a casual comment. Look at you, making a federal case out of it.”
“We know you’re close with Ye Zhiqiu, but we didn’t expect you to defend her daughter too.”
“From now on, we’ll keep our distance, so you don’t have to ‘educate’ us.”
“Good—that’s for the best.”
Fan Xue wasn’t about to tolerate Jiang Miao and Han Shengnan.
She could tell they were trying to threaten her with isolation.
Not that it mattered—she had Ye Zhiqiu and Han Siyang, two people she got along with perfectly. Even if she didn’t, she still wouldn’t want to associate with the likes of them.
A week before New Year’s, Jiangning had three straight days of rain, and the temperature plummeted.
Neither Ye Zhiqiu nor Fan Xue had ever experienced the damp cold of the south before, and they were struggling.
“Siyang, why don’t you guys have heating here?” Fan Xue asked through chattering teeth.
Han Siyang was shivering just as much. “I don’t know—we never had it growing up.”
“So what do you do in winter? Just tough it out?”
“Yep. We rely on shivering.”
Fan Xue was so cold she wanted to curse.
Ye Zhiqiu forced herself to focus. “Let’s rehearse. Once we start moving, it won’t feel as cold.”
Their bodies were stiff from the cold, and it took them a while to warm up.
And they had to keep moving constantly—the moment they stopped, the cold hit even harder.
Tang Xuejun watched the girls’ performance from the side. She knew this was harsh, but they would face all kinds of conditions in the future.
Right now they had it good—performing in grand auditoriums. Back in her day, they performed on the battlefield, where anything could happen.
Ye Zhiqiu’s performance pleased her. They were dancers, yes, but they were also soldiers. They had to endure these small trials.
If they couldn’t overcome even this, how would they ever have the perseverance to keep going?
Little did they know, she hadn’t gathered so many people just for that one dance drama—she was also scouting for a disciple.
Over the years, many had urged her to take on an apprentice, but she never had.
First, because she was young back then and focused entirely on her own career. She didn’t have the time or energy to mentor someone.
And if she did take on a disciple, she had a responsibility—she couldn’t betray their trust.
Second, she used to believe dance was a matter of personal interpretation, something that couldn’t be taught.
She still held that belief to some extent. But what she really wanted now wasn’t just a student—it was a successor.
She had so many ideas left, but her age and body no longer allowed her to realize them all.
She wanted to find a dancer who shared her vision, someone who could bring those ideas to life.
She’d only ever mentioned this to Wu Qingyun. And Wu Qingyun had told her she had the perfect candidate—Ye Zhiqiu.
Tang Xuejun had organized this training program specifically to assess Ye Zhiqiu’s skill and character.
Her performance had been more than satisfactory, but she still wanted to observe a little longer.
After training ended, they all hurriedly threw on their military overcoats, but they still felt freezing.
The cold here was different from the north. In the north, layering up worked. But in Jiangning, no matter how many layers you wore, it didn’t help—you were cold either way.
“Ye Zhiqiu, someone’s here to see you.”
Ye Zhiqiu, Han Siyang, and Fan Xue were about to head to the cafeteria when the guard called out to her.
She froze for a moment, wondering who it could be.
A certain figure flashed through her mind, but she dismissed it as impossible.
“Zhiqiu, we’ll grab food for you.”
“Okay, thanks.”
Ye Zhiqiu waved to Han Siyang and Fan Xue and turned toward the front gate.
From a distance, she saw that familiar figure—and her pace quickened, until she broke into a run.
Yue Mingyuan opened his arms wide and caught her as she threw herself at him.
“What are you doing in Jiangning?” Ye Zhiqiu’s eyes sparkled with delight.
“Official business. I figured I’d swing by and see you. I have to leave soon.” Yue Mingyuan wrapped his hands around hers. “I knew you wouldn’t be used to the climate here.”
“I got you this.”
Following his gaze, she saw a cardboard box by his feet with the words “Electric Heater” printed on it.
“Isn’t this going to use a lot of electricity?” Ye Zhiqiu guessed.
“If they won’t let you use it, just tell them you’ll pay for the electricity yourself. We can’t have you freezing.”
“This kind of weather can really do some damage.”
“Oh, and here’s this too.”
Yue Mingyuan handed her a hot water bottle. “You didn’t bring one, did you?”
Ye Zhiqiu bit her lip and nodded sheepishly. “Mm.”
He’d told her to bring a hot water bottle, but she’d figured it wouldn’t be that cold down south—after all, everyone said the south was warm. So she hadn’t listened.
And reality had taught her a lesson.
Afraid he’d scold her, Ye Zhiqiu quickly promised, “From now on, I’ll listen to everything you say.”
“Since you’re admitting your mistake so sincerely, I’ll let it slide this time.” Yue Mingyuan tapped her nose. “But don’t let it happen again.”
“Got it.” Ye Zhiqiu’s eyes were bright as she looked up at him, filled with longing and affection.
