“Wow, so handsome!”

The female soldiers’ eyes lit up as they all turned their gazes in unison toward the tall man emerging from the sunlight.  

Xia Anran recognized him—he was Huo Ruifeng, the second son of the Huo family, even more striking in person than in photographs. His carefree and unrestrained demeanor reminded her of Linghu Chong, portrayed by Lü Songxian.  

The two Huo brothers were both exceptional among men. The elder was stern and reserved, cold and ascetic, exuding an icy aura that kept others at a distance—like a natural-born ruler, commanding both awe and admiration.  

The younger, however, was charming and debonair, unrestrained and exuding raw masculine allure, akin to a leopard in the forest—dangerous yet captivating.  

Huo Ruifeng also noticed the line of female soldiers. His eyes swept across the group, seemingly casual, but when they landed on Wen Fangfang, the smile on his lips deepened. He strode toward her with long, confident steps.  

Wen Fangfang waved excitedly, her eyes sparkling, her voice sweet and filled with joy:  

“Brother Ruifeng! Brother Ruifeng!”

Wearing a captivating smile, Huo Ruifeng walked up to her and instinctively raised his hand, as if to tousle her hair like he used to when they were children. But his hand stopped just an inch away.  

‘She’s grown up now—must be mindful of boundaries.’

He withdrew his hand and teased her lightly, “Hey there, little girl, you came!”

Four years apart, and the little girl who used to follow him around had grown up. The only thing unchanged was the joy and affection in her eyes when she looked at him, which brightened Huo Ruifeng’s mood even more.  

Wen Fangfang protested in a small voice:  

“I’m not a little girl anymore—don’t call me that.”

Huo Ruifeng chuckled, amusement dancing in his eyes as he deliberately teased her:  

“Then… how about ‘big girl’?”

The laughter in his voice successfully made Wen Fangfang blush. Watching her flushed cheeks, a faint, unreadable emotion flickered in his dark eyes.  

He then composed himself and said earnestly:  

“Fangfang, I wish you a successful performance.”

Seeing him about to leave, Wen Fangfang asked anxiously:  

“I wrote you letters—why didn’t you reply?”

For four years, she had written him a letter every month, yet she had never received a single response.  

Huo Ruifeng froze, a trace of regret flashing in his eyes. *She wrote to me?*  

He received so many love letters that they had become a nuisance—every time the mailroom delivered them, he would tear them up and throw them in the trash.  

*Missed them… missed them all!*  

Seeing his reaction, Wen Fangfang’s expression dimmed. In the end, it had been her own one-sided devotion. Her head drooped in dejection, tears welling in her eyes.  

Noticing her sadness, Huo Ruifeng hurriedly apologized:  

“Hey, I’m sorry, little girl. I didn’t know it was you who wrote. After the performance, how about I treat you to dinner to make it up to you?”

Wen Fangfang was easy to cheer up—just one sentence was enough to make her forget her sorrow, and she immediately brightened:  

“Really?”

Watching Wen Fangfang’s radiant smile, Huo Ruifeng’s eyes softened with affection. He nodded with a grin, his voice carrying an indescribable gentleness:  

“Really.”

Xia Anran had been observing the two of them. It seemed Wen Fangfang’s feelings weren’t one-sided—Huo Ruifeng didn’t just see her as a little sister, contrary to what she had claimed.  

The other girls noticed Huo Ruifeng’s demeanor toward Wen Fangfang, and the stars in their eyes dimmed. From the moment he laid eyes on Wen Fangfang, it was as if no one else existed in his world.  

The line had to keep moving, and there was no time for lengthy reminiscing. Wen Fangfang glanced back repeatedly as she walked away, while Huo Ruifeng waved at her reassuringly:  

“I’ll be watching your performance from the audience. Do your best.”

Once all the female soldiers had entered the auditorium, Huo Ruifeng’s friend sidled up and nudged him teasingly:  

“Ruifeng, so that’s the ‘little girl’ you’ve mentioned? She’s quite pretty. You’d better keep a close eye on her—if you let go, she might slip away. I just saw several pilots from our team trying to charm her.”

Huo Ruifeng punched him lightly. “Get lost.” 

…

After speaking with Huo Ruifeng, Wen Fangfang was as giddy as a happy little sparrow, unable to stop smiling.  

Xia Anran couldn’t resist teasing her: “Did you take some kind of laughing potion? Why are you so happy?”

Wen Fangfang beamed. “Brother Ruifeng is taking me out to eat!”

Li Yanqiu smirked. “Oho~ Look at you, so pleased with yourself. Are you about to float away from happiness?”

Wen Fangfang lifted her chin proudly. “I’m ignoring you! I need to be in top form for the performance—Brother Ruifeng is watching me from the audience!”

Xia Anran laughed. “Yanqiu, don’t distract Fangfang from her warm-up. She’s got a dance to perform for her dear ‘Feng-gege (Brother Feng)’!”

Li Yanqiu grinned. “No wonder she’s so eager to warm up. Turns out she’s dancing for her… *Feng-gege*.”

She deliberately emphasized the “Feng”, making Wen Fangfang blush furiously. Stomping her foot in embarrassment, Wen Fangfang huffed, “I’m not talking to you two anymore!”

Xia Anran chuckled softly, feeling a pang of envy. Love that was reciprocated was truly sweet. Her own love life, however, might as well be trapped in the Arctic Ocean—unless the ice melted, there was no hope in sight.  

But then…  

The only time Huo Ruifeng’s name was mentioned in the book was when news of his sacrifice reached the Huo family. Uncle Huo’s hair turned white overnight, and Aunt Liang fell gravely ill.  

At the thought of this plot point, Xia Anran’s smile faded. When she looked at Huo Ruifeng again, there was a trace of pity in her gaze. *Such a fine young man—how could he be destined for sacrifice?*  

If her presence could alter the course of events, she hoped Huo Ruifeng would survive and grow old with Wen Fangfang.  

Uncle Huo and Aunt Liang had been so kind to her—she truly didn’t want them to suffer the pain of losing a child.  

…

The performance began. Xia Anran was the first to take the stage, bearing the crucial responsibility of energizing the crowd.  

Chen Yu stood by the side curtains, offering her encouragement before she went on:  

“Don’t be nervous.”

Xia Anran nodded. “Thank you, Instructor.” 

With her head held high, she strode onto the stage to enthusiastic applause. Standing confidently before the microphone, she waited for the music to start.  

Down in the audience, Huo Ruifeng suddenly turned to Wang Bin, seated to his left, and asked:  

“Did the announcer just say her name is Xia Anran?”