Zhou Yuxin had always wanted to become Teacher Yuan’s student, but Teacher Yuan refused to accept her—not even giving face when her uncle personally intervened.  

And here I thought she was so noble! Turns out she’s just a bootlicker!

She only took Xia Anran to curry favor with General Huo! 

Teacher Yuan had no idea Zhou Yuxin thought of her this way, and even if she did, she wouldn’t care. After introducing Xia Anran, she immediately announced the competition:  

“Due to Zhou Yuxin’s personal mistakes, our troupe placed last in the provincial military district’s cultural performance competition. This is a disgrace and absolutely unacceptable.  

Zhou Yuxin is no longer qualified to remain the lead singer of the troupe. After discussing with Regimental Commander Zhou, we’ve decided to select a new lead singer through an open competition.  

The competition will be held tomorrow morning. Everyone, prepare your best songs and submit them shortly. I’ll send them to the band for rehearsal. Cherish this opportunity and give it your all.”  

Being publicly criticized made Zhou Yuxin feel as if she had been stripped naked in front of everyone. She hated Teacher Yuan for humiliating her.  

Hearing that Teacher Yuan intended to strip her of her lead singer position, her face flushed with anger. And when she learned that her uncle had actually agreed to an open competition to replace her, she couldn’t take it anymore. Sobbing, she ran out of the rehearsal hall.  

Seeing Zhou Yuxin flee, Teacher Yuan shouted furiously after her:  

“Zhou Yuxin! Who said you could leave?”  

Zhou Yuxin pretended not to hear and ran even faster. She needed to confront her uncle—why would he do this to her?  

Teacher Yuan was livid at Zhou Yuxin’s defiance. “Zhou Yuxin has no regard for discipline. Scorekeeper, deduct two points from her record.”  

The scorekeeper noted the deduction in the logbook. Zhou Yuxin had been so arrogant in the singing team before—now that she was in trouble, everyone was thrilled.  

Clapping her hands to regain everyone’s attention, Teacher Yuan declared:  

“Everyone, start preparing. Regardless of seniority, all of you can participate. This is a rare opportunity—don’t waste it.”  

*Who doesn’t want to be the lead singer?* There were talented singers in the team, but without a powerful uncle like Zhou Yuxin’s, they had no choice but to watch her—who sang worse than them—take the spotlight and endure her arrogance.  

Now, with this chance, everyone was fired up.  

Winning the competition meant becoming the lead singer. Being the lead singer meant performing in provincial and national military competitions. And excelling there could land them a spot in the General Political Department’s Song and Dance Ensemble—everyone’s dream.  

After Teacher Yuan’s announcement, the girls scattered to prepare their best songs.  

“Xiao Xia, come with me. I have a few songs for you to choose from. Pick one, sing it, and I’ll point out where you need improvement. Even last-minute practice can help. Work on your weaknesses, and you’ll have a real shot at winning tomorrow.”  

Teacher Yuan didn’t consider this favoritism. Xia Anran was new to the troupe and lacked experience—giving her extra guidance wasn’t unfair.  

Xia Anran quickly followed. As they walked, Teacher Yuan pointed out the flaws in her earlier performance of *“On the Golden Mountain of Beijing”* and what she needed to improve.  

Listening, Xia Anran realized just how skilled Teacher Yuan was—she had pinpointed every weakness after just one listen. Her respect for the teacher grew even deeper.  

Xia Anran was a diligent and eager learner. No matter what she studied or did, she approached it with intense focus and dedication.  

She absorbed new material quickly—understanding after just one demonstration—and could integrate it with her own ideas, elevating her performance beyond mere imitation. This was the key to her success as a top-tier star in her past life.  

She chose *“Beat the Drum and Strike the Gong”* as her competition piece. Teacher Yuan worried the song was too difficult for a beginner like her.  

But if Xia Anran could master it, her chances of winning would skyrocket.  

Teacher Yuan was torn. She only had time to teach Xia Anran once—no room for extra practice. She feared the song might be too much for her.

Xia Anran noticed the teacher’s hesitation and took the initiative to say:  

“Teacher, I’ll practice both songs. During the competition, I’ll decide based on the situation. If everyone else is really strong, I’ll go with *’Beat the Drum and Strike the Gong’* and give it my all!”  

Teacher Yuan looked at Xia Anran with appreciation—the girl had a good mindset. She nodded:  

“Alright, that might be the best approach. This song once helped me win first place in a national competition. Listen carefully—I can only teach you once, as I still have to prepare for the competition.”  

Teacher Yuan was a mezzo-soprano, her tone reminiscent of Guan Mucun. The song was lively and delightful but also highly demanding in terms of vocal technique—those rapid *”lai lai lai”* refrains were nearly impossible to nail without solid fundamentals.  

Xia Anran listened intently. After Teacher Yuan finished singing, she explained the key points:  

“Xiao Xia, when singing, you must control the rhythm and follow the music. Never rush the beat. As a beginner, if you miss a beat, you’ll panic, and once you panic, the whole rhythm falls apart.  

Also, don’t just strain your voice and shout. Put real emotion into it. This is a joyful, celebratory song—think of something happy while singing, and the right mood will come naturally.”  

Xia Anran nodded. “I understand, Teacher.”  

‘Something happy? First on the list—calling off the engagement with Huo Ruiyang, disrupting the plot, and sending the female lead to prison so she can’t stir up trouble anymore!’

Who wouldn’t love a diligent and eager student? Seeing Xia Anran’s focus, Teacher Yuan patted her shoulder.  

“Xiao Xia, I might be pushing you too hard. You have no foundation, yet I’m making you sing such a difficult song. Do what you can—I won’t pressure you.”  

…

While Teacher Yuan coached Xia Anran, Zhou Yuxin rushed to her uncle’s office in tears:  

“Uncle! Yuan Xiumei humiliated me in front of the entire singing team! She said she’s replacing me as lead singer—and that you agreed to hold a competition to choose a new one!”  

Regimental Commander Zhou was already fuming after being publicly berated by Yuan Xiumei earlier. Seeing his niece sobbing only made him both angrier and more sympathetic. He scowled as he scolded her:  

“And whose fault is that? Who told you to eat spicy food before the competition? Staying up late instead of resting properly? Your voice was hoarse, and you went off-key during the performance! Yuan Xiumei is fiercely competitive—you made the troupe place last and embarrassed her. Did you really think she’d let that slide? Now she’s got leverage. If I don’t comply, she’ll report me to higher-ups!”  

Zhou Yuxin cursed in frustration:  

“Yuan Xiumei is just riding on her husband’s coattails! Just because he’s a director in the Political Department, she thinks she can disrespect you! She lost the position of troupe leader to you, so now she takes it out on me! Uncle, *you’re* the leader here—how can you let her boss you around?”  

Her words were deliberately provocative, pulling her uncle into the same trench to unite against their common “enemy.” Only then would he help her deal with Yuan Xiumei.  

Regimental Commander Zhou’s expression darkened. His niece’s words struck a nerve—despite being the troupe leader, Yuan Xiumei never treated him with respect. She even dared to slam the table and defy him!  

But what could he do? Her husband outranked him. He had no choice but to swallow his pride.  

Seeing his niece still crying, Regimental Commander Zhou handed her a handkerchief and reassured her:  

“Don’t worry. I have a way to ensure you win this competition. Once you do, Yuan Xiumei will have nothing to say.”

Zhou Yuxin’s eyes lit up. “Uncle, what’s your plan?”  

Captain Zhou narrowed his eyes. “You’ll find out tomorrow.”