Chapter 6: Making the First Move

To win a man over, you had to understand him inside and out.

That was Lin Yiqiao’s tried-and-true belief.

She hadn’t been idle these past few days. Through subtle questions and quiet probing around the military compound, she pieced together some useful information.

What shocked her the most was Qi Jun’s grandfather — Qi Wanli!

A man she had only ever heard about before… and now, she’d met his grandson in person.

Life’s twists of fate were truly astonishing.

If she had stayed cooped up in that small town, she probably would’ve lived her whole life without ever brushing shoulders with anyone from these elite circles.

The central building in the compound — that small villa — was where Qi Jun lived alone. But he was rarely home, usually off at the barracks, with someone only coming in now and then to clean up.

As for the late fiancée, Zhao Hui — they were introduced through a matchmaker and hadn’t been together long before Zhao Hui was killed in action.

Lin Yiqiao pinched her fingers. A deceased white moonlight could easily become a lasting red stain on a man’s heart.

But she wasn’t afraid. The more difficult and challenging a man was, the more exciting the conquest.

Then she heard new gossip: Zhao Hui’s older brother had landed a job at the textile factory, and the family had even been allocated a new apartment.

They said it was part of Zhao Hui’s martyr’s pension benefits.

Lin Yiqiao didn’t know much about these things, but even if the compensation was that generous, a family that had just arrived in the capital wouldn’t have been able to navigate all the red tape so smoothly. Her instincts told her Qi Jun had helped them.

Still, she was curious — did Qi Jun help simply out of guilt?

If so, that guilt sure was expensive.

And if it was out of love — then it was even more valuable.

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Just as Lin Yiqiao was pondering her next step, her aunt brought her a surprise opportunity.

Qian Ru, her aunt, had once been part of the Northern Military Region’s cultural troupe but had retired early due to health issues.

Now, the cultural troupe was holding an internal recruitment for two spots. Applicants needed to perform either a dance or a solo instrumental piece, with overall qualities like figure and poise also taken into account.

Lin Yiqiao had never formally studied dance, but she had to give it a try.

Getting into the troupe would mean regular contact with Qi Jun — and possibly joining the military herself. That path opened endless future possibilities.

Lin Yiqiao sweet-talked Qian Ru into teaching her.

Flattered and amused, Qian Ru happily agreed.

She selected for Lin Yiqiao a dance she once choreographed herself — “The Laundry Girl.” Flowing southern sleeves gave the dance a graceful, poetic beauty. But instead of sticking to gentle, demure movements, Qian Ru had boldly mixed in elements of Dai ethnic dance, making it charming and flirtatious — even more captivating.

Lin Yiqiao didn’t have formal training, but she was naturally flexible, with excellent physical coordination. Her movements were fluid and elegant.

Though most dancers were expected to be waif-like, Lin Yiqiao’s curves struck a perfect balance — lush, but never overdone.

Qian Ru even gave her the performance sleeves from her old routine and bought several yards of bright, vivid fabric for her costume.

Lin Yiqiao, skilled in dressing herself up, made several stylish outfits — both for herself and Qian Ru. The latter was so thrilled with the results, she couldn’t stop smiling.

Yiqiao trained diligently, stretching and practicing every day on the little second-floor balcony.

One day while dancing, she suddenly sensed someone watching her.

She didn’t look up immediately, but as she straightened her sleeves, she glanced out of the corner of her eye.

There it was — a tall, upright figure standing by the window of the villa’s top floor. She couldn’t see clearly, but she could feel his gaze.

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Qi Jun had returned to retrieve Zhao Hui’s belongings. After her death, the military hadn’t been able to contact her family, so her things had been kept with him.

There wasn’t much: two articles of clothing and a journal. He had stored them in the attic. Now that Zhao Xinxin had come to claim them, he was returning them.

Qi Jun had always admired Zhao Hui’s simplicity and dedication. She would’ve made a great revolutionary comrade. But…

His thoughts were interrupted by a movement outside.

A delicate figure caught his eye.

Though he didn’t see her face clearly, he recognized her — the young woman who had brought food to Zhang Guoqiang the other day. Lin Yiqiao.

The dance was soft and graceful, yet her version of it was anything but passive. She stretched and moved boldly, with energy and confidence that still retained beauty.

She seemed to pause — as if she’d noticed him. Then, she smiled and waved.

Qi Jun looked at her deeply, his gaze unreadable, then turned and strode downstairs.

Lin Yiqiao felt she’d performed perfectly. Whether he liked her or not didn’t matter — as long as he remembered her.

Men like him were always proud.

Wearing a mask of calm and hiding their arrogance deep inside — that was the nature of power.

Let him see me however he wants.

I, Lin Yiqiao, have no shortage of ways to make someone fall for me.