Chapter 49: A Telegram from Nan Fangjue

“Hello, is there something you need?”

Wen Yanyan recognized the soldier; he was the one who had delivered Nan Fangjue’s military allowance last time.

“You’re Wen Yanyan, right? A telegram arrived at the unit from Nan Tuan’s hometown, but he’s away on field training, so I brought it to you. Please keep it safe.”

The soldier was polite and courteous.

“Okay, thank you.”

Wen Yanyan took the telegram.

“You’re welcome.”

The soldier closed the door and left.

Wen Yanyan quickly opened the telegram and read it, her brow furrowing.

The telegram, charged by the word, read: “Haven’t sent money for over three months, dying of poverty.”

The address was Baishi Village, Gutong Township, Jiangxi Province.

Jiangxi?

Wen Yanyan pondered for a moment, and a window of the original owner’s memories opened.

Although Nan Fangjue’s grandfather had passed away, his family still lived in his hometown.

His parents, younger brother, and a younger sister.

Strangely, in her memories, Nan Fangjue had never sent money home.

She hadn’t known before, but definitely not after their marriage, because the original owner had spent all of Nan Fangjue’s military allowance.

The telegram also mentioned “over three months,” meaning the three months after their marriage, he hadn’t sent money home.

The last two words, “dying of poverty.”

What did it mean?

If Nan Fangjue didn’t send money home again, would they starve to death?

Telegrams were charged per word; they used as few words as possible, without even punctuation.

However, the meaning was clear enough.

Oh dear, this was serious.

If, heaven forbid, someone in his hometown died, she couldn’t bear the responsibility, and Nan Fangjue would be furious.

No, she had to send money to that address.

But not now, this afternoon. She had a job interview this morning.

Wen Yanyan went back to her room, put away the telegram, then washed her face, brushed her teeth, and made breakfast.

Because she was still dieting, she ate only half a steamed bun and a plate of cucumber salad—half a meal was enough.

She couldn’t run now, and she couldn’t do business anymore.

So she would do one hundred sit-ups; she couldn’t reduce her exercise.

But Nan Fangjue wasn’t home; there was no one to hold her legs down during sit-ups.

She would do push-ups first, then sit-ups when he returned.

Comparing the two exercises, she preferred sit-ups, because of the handsome man holding her legs.

Hee hee.

Wen Yanyan had been a face-value enthusiast in her past life, and she had carried that over into this life.

…

After breakfast, she went to her wardrobe and took out a dress.

This dress was specially bought for her interview in town by Sister Huang.

She had fallen in love with it at first sight in the department store: yellow and blue plaid, a large skirt, a cinched waist, short sleeves, and a round neck.

Wen Yanyan also bought a pair of matching yellow and blue plaid cloth shoes.

She changed into the dress and twirled in front of the mirror.

It felt great; the large skirt concealed the excess fat on her belly.

She was also wearing a corset and slimming underwear, giving her a curvy figure.

Except for her slightly thick waist, there were no other flaws.

She didn’t want to lose this interview; she wanted to present her best self to the leaders of the art troupe.

Just as Wen Yanyan finished dressing, she heard someone calling her outside.

“Yanzi! Yanzi!”

“Coming!”

She quickly put on her shoes and ran out; it was Sister Huang calling her. They had agreed to go to the interview together yesterday.

“Sister!”

Seeing her, Huang Shuying couldn’t stop smiling, “Yanzi, you look so beautiful, like a fairy descended from heaven.”

“Oh, Sister, you’re teasing me again. I’m still fat.”

Wen Yanyan blushed.

“This isn’t fat. Do you have to be as thin as a bamboo pole? Men don’t like that. This is called being full-figured; women should have some meat on them.”

Huang Shuying glanced at her chest, wanting to say something but hesitating.

…

They arrived at the art troupe, but Huang Shuying couldn’t enter.

The gatekeeper wouldn’t let her in; only the interviewees were allowed inside.

She had to wait outside.

“Yanzi, don’t be nervous. I’ll wait for you outside.”

Wen Yanyan noticed that several other people were standing outside the art troupe’s gate.

“Okay, Sister.”

She entered the art troupe and realized that she wasn’t the only one being interviewed; five other girls were also participating.

No wonder there were so many people outside; they were also waiting like Huang Shuying.

…

Second-floor interview room.

Yu Jingyuan, the head of the military art troupe; Wei Guochang, the secretary; Li Xiaoliang, the artistic director; Zhu Yanliang, the head of the vocal music department; Song Guoyun, the head of the dance department; and Zhang Fengye, the head of the instrumental music team.

A total of six judges.

They sat in a row on the stage, all burly men.

Only one young female soldier possessed both beauty and temperament: Song Guoyun, the head of the dance department.

The six female interviewees sat on chairs downstairs.

The host called out names one by one; whoever was called would go on stage to perform.

Wen Yanyan quietly compared herself to the others and felt that her appearance was quite acceptable among the six.

She felt a little more at ease.

She wasn’t affected by Huang Shuying; she didn’t think she was pretty, because she hadn’t really slimmed down yet. She would think about that later.

The first to perform was a girl with a high ponytail.

Her name was Wei Shuhua. She was slender and pretty. She sang a folk song, “Running Horses on the Rolling Hills.”

Wen Yanyan shook her head slightly.

Although Wei Shuhua had a pleasant voice, her high notes were off-key, and it was quite noticeable.

After a brief discussion, the judges asked her to wait for notification.

The second girl was Zhao Fangfang; she performed a dance.

Wen Yanyan was stunned; it seemed to be…the “Loyalty” dance.

Huh?

Was…that acceptable?

Sure enough, she also had to wait for notification after her performance.

The third girl was Li Lingling; she sang, “Selling Newspapers.”

The song immediately evoked her childhood memories.

When Wen Yanyan was in first grade, this song was in her music textbook.

She still remembered it; the melody was catchy, and the lyrics were simple and easy to understand.

But singing this song at an art troupe audition…was a bit inappropriate.

While Wen Yanyan was watching the performance on stage, she suddenly heard a familiar voice.

“Why are you here?”

She sighed inwardly, Oh, why did she meet her again? Was this fate?

Wen Yanyan turned to look at Yu Linglong beside her and said expressionlessly, “I came to watch the fun.”

“Watch the fun? Is this the place to watch the fun?”

Yu Linglong looked her up and down, becoming increasingly surprised.

Was this woman still Wen Yanyan?

Wearing a dress, she was like a completely different person!

Where was her triple chin?

Where did all the fat go?

And her chest…what was going on?

So big?

So exaggerated.

Yu Linglong looked down at her own chest, three black lines sliding down her forehead.

The difference was huge.

She couldn’t have imagined it.

Wen Yanyan’s belly fat was hidden by her slimming underwear, and her chest was lifted by the corset.

“I applied, and I’m here specifically to watch the fun,” Wen Yanyan said solemnly, spouting nonsense.