CHAPTER 6 

Sang Miao stood in front of the mirror, refining her movements. Spins, jumps—each motion seemed to flow effortlessly from her feet. Again and again, she immersed herself in the perspective of Qionghua, the peasant girl abused by tyrants, trying to fully experience the despair and helplessness of the character.

Once she slipped into that emotional space, the entire performance seemed to come alive.

After two full-group rehearsals and resolving stage coordination issues, everyone dispersed again—some went to rest, others continued practicing their own parts.

Sang Miao remained in front of the mirror, continuing to rehearse. Sweat streamed down her fair, radiant cheeks, but she still looked dissatisfied, repeating the moves over and over.

Her dance partner, Liu Feng, stayed by her side to assist. Normally, Sang Miao merely standing there would draw many admiring glances, but when she danced, she became even more dazzling. No one could look away easily.

Not even Lu Xiao.

Having been left alone earlier, Lu Xiao now leaned casually against the wall behind him, looking relaxed. His head tilted slightly downward, but due to his tall height, he could easily see over the crowd and spot Sang Miao at the center.

She was beautiful—like a sorrowful little swan. Even in a plain servant-style dance costume, her fragile and pitiful beauty shone through.

She was nothing like the casually dismissive girl he’d interacted with earlier. When she danced, she was fully immersed, her eyes glowing with a light he’d never seen in her before. It was captivating.

Sang Miao repeated the routine over and over until she reached her limit, finally stopping and panting as she clutched her chest.

Leaning against the mirror, she furrowed her brows, seeming dissatisfied as she stared at her reflection. Even though others already thought her dancing was excellent, Sang Miao herself wasn’t content. It still felt like something was missing. But what?

Liu Feng, her partner, stood beside her. Sang Miao turned to him and asked, “I still don’t think it’s quite right. What do you think, Liu Feng?”

Liu Feng looked at her with thinly veiled affection. “Sang Miao, I think it’s already amazing! The new part you choreographed is especially good—way better than before.” As he spoke, he moved a little closer to her.

Sang Miao noticed his enthusiasm and subtly leaned back, putting some distance between them. Was he getting a little too excited?

Since she wasn’t getting the answer she wanted from Liu Feng, she didn’t press further. Tilting her head back, she leaned against the barre, deep in thought about what exactly her dance was lacking.

So close… but what was that final missing piece?

Since she couldn’t find the key point, Sang Miao didn’t continue practicing mechanically. Instead, she started observing the others dancing in the rehearsal hall, hoping to find inspiration from their movements. Her gaze wandered aimlessly around the room.

Something’s missing…

What exactly is missing?

Suddenly!

Sang Miao’s eyes locked onto someone. He stood tall and straight. Even though he was leaning lazily against the wall, the sharp and resolute aura of a soldier couldn’t be hidden.

A spark lit up in Sang Miao’s mind—yes, this was what she was missing!

A glimmer of joy flashed in her eyes. She had finally grasped the crux of it. After the maid Qionghua joined the women’s militia, she couldn’t behave as softly as she did before. She needed to exude a clear and firm military bearing. There was even a battle scene on stage later—she had to portray the heroic spirit of a female warrior.

Sang Miao’s gaze drifted upward to land on Lu Xiao’s face, silently contemplating how she could emulate that feeling.

Just as she was staring blankly at Lu Xiao’s face, their eyes suddenly met. She found herself looking into the deep, dark pupils of his eyes. His gaze was calm and indifferent. Realizing she had been staring for far too long, Sang Miao quickly looked away in embarrassment.

They were all art troupe members. Aside from the three-month basic training they received when they first joined the army, they hadn’t undergone any further training. Most of their time was spent composing songs and rehearsing performances.

They had no contact with actual combat units, let alone real battlefields. When it came to military aura, they all lacked the true edge.

Sang Miao even more so. She had been a dancer her whole life and had never been a soldier. Ever since arriving in this world, she had only been here for a few short months.

There was nothing about her that felt like a real soldier.

But the Qionghua she was portraying was a genuine battlefield heroine, someone who had fought seriously on the front lines. Leading her women’s militia, she had built a reputation that rivaled the men’s. In the midst of war, she had written a red legend, making the female troops famous across the land.

In the stage performance, her heroic spirit needed to be magnified. That was the highlight of the second half of the routine.

Thinking of the fact that Lu Xiao would be staying in their art troupe for another month, Sang Miao came up with an idea. After all, supporting the performance was part of Lu Xiao’s duty too.

The morning rehearsal flew by quickly. Soon, the loudspeaker in the rehearsal hall played the mealtime bugle call, signaling everyone that it was time for lunch.

Everyone in the hall had been rehearsing all morning. Hungry and exhausted, they quickly packed up and rushed to the canteen the moment they heard the bugle.

But Sang Miao didn’t leave right away. Instead, she glanced in Lu Xiao’s direction. Seeing that he was about to walk out of the rehearsal hall, she hurriedly jogged a few steps to catch up with him.

Standing in front of him, she tilted her head up, immediately plastering a sweet smile on her face and softly said, “Captain Lu, you’re probably not familiar with our art troupe yet. Let me take you to the canteen.”

But her attempt to curry favor was a bit too obvious—completely different from the cold and indifferent demeanor she had shown in the morning. Lu Xiao, being as sharp as he was, naturally noticed.

Besides, Lu Xiao already knew the layout of the art troupe like the back of his hand. And with the lunch bugle just sounding, everyone in the rehearsal hall was heading to the canteen. All he had to do was follow the crowd—there was no chance of getting lost.

Lu Xiao lowered his head slightly, looking at Sang Miao, whose head barely reached his shoulder. The girl was smiling brightly with curved eyes, trying to please him. Two small dimples appeared on her cheeks—she looked a little pitiful and a bit adorable.

She was nothing like the cool and aloof girl from earlier.

Sang Miao stood her ground under Lu Xiao’s scrutiny, even though her confidence wavered slightly. Her heart was pounding a little. In the novel, the male lead was known to be cold and hard to approach. If not for the short interaction they had earlier, which had made her feel just a bit more comfortable around him, she wouldn’t even have known how to start a conversation.

After all, Sang Miao had grown up being pampered and adored. Though she had a gentle nature, she had little experience asking others for help.

Just when Sang Miao felt like she couldn’t hold on any longer, Lu Xiao finally spoke. “Let’s go.”

With that, he turned and started walking. Sang Miao quickly followed, a glimmer of delight flashing in her eyes. Since he didn’t turn her down outright, there was still hope.

She walked beside Lu Xiao. Even though they were quite close, she only reached his shoulder.

She couldn’t see Lu Xiao’s expression, but he could clearly see hers. The tangled emotions in her eyes, the way she hesitated to speak—none of it was hidden. It was as if she thought he couldn’t see her, so she let all her thoughts show in her bright, clear eyes.

Lu Xiao rubbed his fingers thoughtfully. She wants something from me? But he waited the whole way and she still hadn’t spoken.

They were almost at the canteen entrance, and Sang Miao was still struggling with how to bring it up.

She honestly didn’t know how to phrase her request so Lu Xiao would agree. What she wanted was for him to teach her a few moves—better yet, demonstrate a scene of battlefield combat to give her some inspiration.

But his hand was injured. Would her request be too much? Yet she didn’t know anyone else who could help.

Sang Miao thought for a moment. For the sake of her performance, she had to get Lu Xiao’s help. She silently gave herself a pep talk.

Lu Xiao was watching her with great interest, clearly entertained by her internal struggle. Just as he was about to speak, Sang Miao suddenly grabbed his arm and pulled him toward a seat in the canteen.

“Captain Lu, sit here first. You’re not too familiar with this place, so I’ll help you get your food. I’ll be right back!”

Without giving him a chance to respond, she dashed off, completely unlike the delicate little ballet swan she usually appeared to be.

A hint of amusement flashed in Lu Xiao’s eyes as he sat calmly at the table, waiting for her.

The moment Lu Xiao entered the canteen, quite a few people had already noticed him. The art troupe had two large rehearsal halls—Sang Miao’s dance team and the orchestra shared one, while the drama and vocal teams were in the other.

Because this upcoming performance for the infantry regiment was mainly handled by the dance and orchestra teams, Yang Xin had brought Lu Xiao to the hall where Sang Miao and her group were.

Everyone ate at the same mess hall, so members of the drama and vocal teams also noticed Lu Xiao. Quite a few girls were secretly sneaking glances at him.

Some of the bolder ones even wanted to sit near him, but were quickly discouraged by the stern, intimidating air he gave off.

Zhao Weiwei had come early and already gotten her food. When she turned around to find a seat, she saw that Lu Xiao was sitting alone at a long table, with not a single soul around him. She didn’t know why, but the area around him was completely empty.

Seeing his bandaged arm and the bare tabletop in front of him, Zhao Weiwei was secretly delighted. She kept her expression neutral and walked over to him with an air of casualness. “Captain Lu, there don’t seem to be any open seats left. Mind if I sit here?”

Lu Xiao glanced at her and didn’t refuse. The table was big enough to seat seven or eight people—he had no reason to say no.

Zhao Weiwei’s eyes lit up as she prepared to sit across from him—when suddenly, a soft voice called out behind her, “Captain Lu, I got your food.”

Sang Miao had just finished waiting in line and was struggling to carry two lunch trays over. When she looked up, she saw someone standing in front of Lu Xiao.

That person turned around—and it was none other than Zhao Weiwei.

Sang Miao froze in place. How could I forget? Lu Xiao is the male lead. He and Zhao Weiwei are the official pairing. It’s perfectly normal for them to run into each other.

Now she stood there awkwardly with the trays, unsure whether she should sit across from Lu Xiao or leave the space for the two of them. She had no idea what the male lead was thinking.

If I force myself to sit down and he finds it annoying, wouldn’t that ruin my chances of getting his help?

Just as Sang Miao stood there, unsure whether to sit or stay standing, Lu Xiao spoke up.

“Sang Miao, since you’ve got the food, bring it over.”

Sang Miao hesitated for a couple of seconds but still followed his words and walked over.

Seeing Zhao Weiwei still standing right across from Lu Xiao, Sang Miao thought for a moment and decided to sit beside him instead. Just as she was about to put down one of the trays, Lu Xiao suddenly reached out with his uninjured hand and took both trays from her.

His hands were large and strong. He effortlessly took the two trays she’d been struggling to carry and set them down in front of the two seats directly across from Zhao Weiwei.

The meaning was clear—he completely ignored Zhao Weiwei and wanted Sang Miao to sit in front of him.

Zhao Weiwei’s face flushed red, then turned pale. Lu Xiao hadn’t even acknowledged her.

She watched the two of them settle in with their food as if no one else were around. Her face changed colors multiple times like a Sichuan opera mask.

The people around them were also watching. It didn’t take much to see that Zhao Weiwei had just forced her way over—some had even thought she and Lu Xiao were together.

But now it was clear: Lu Xiao had been waiting for Sang Miao, the cultural troupe’s “flower.”

At once, the others began watching the situation like it was a joke, eyes falling on Zhao Weiwei, who still stood awkwardly beside Lu Xiao and Sang Miao.