Chapter 15: Thunderous Applause

The situation Xu Li was facing was this: her husband, Bai Shan, was a national second-class artist and the lead choreographer of the song and dance troupe.

During the rehearsals for The White-Haired Girl, Bai Shan insisted on downplaying the female protagonist Xi’er’s suffering and instead emphasizing the male lead Wang Dachun’s role as her savior.

As the assistant choreographer, Xu Li believed the opposite. She thought the entire performance should highlight Xi’er’s strength and dignity in the face of hardship, dedicating more segments to depict the suffering she endured.

The two had clashed over this issue repeatedly.

Currently, The White-Haired Girl was undergoing a major revamp, but Xu Li was pregnant, and the understudy (B-role) only listened to Bai Shan. As a result, Xi’er’s character was becoming more and more glamorized, losing the authentic image of a struggling woman from the old society.

Just yesterday, Xu Li had gone to the practice room and saw her husband, hands on his hips, personally instructing the B-role in her dance.

She quietly listened in, only to hear the B-role praising herself while subtly disparaging Xu Li in front of Bai Shan.

In other words, not only had this B-role taken her place, but she was also undermining Xu Li in front of her own husband.

What infuriated Xu Li even more was that this B-role was Bai Shan’s cousin, someone who had grown up with her, attended the same arts school, and had always been as close as a sister. It was eerily similar to the sisterly rivalry between Chen Siyan and Chen Nianqin.

Xu Li despised nothing more than women belittling and slandering each other.

Today was supposed to be a re-rehearsal led by the B-role—a progress presentation for The White-Haired Girl. All the prominent performers of the troupe would be in attendance. Xu Li, unwilling to watch a segment crafted solely to fit her husband’s narrative, had come to find Meng Xiaojun for some distraction.

When she saw Chen Siyan’s dance, she witnessed something entirely different from the current traditional styles. Though it was still ballet, Chen Siyan had blended it with elements of Mongolian dance, artistically recreating the everyday labor of women in a way that was both novel and captivating.

Even though Chen Siyan’s family background would prevent her from performing on stage, she could still become a choreographer.

Xu Li was now determined to hand over her assistant choreographer position to Chen Siyan.

Of course, transferring personnel between troupes wasn’t that simple; she would need to convince the troupe leadership.

“Coincidentally, all the leaders are here today. Come with me and perform that dance you just did for them,” Xu Li said.

Chen Siyan thought, No way… is the opportunity coming this fast?

Could she really step onto the stage today?

Ma Manman rushed over and hugged her, sobbing, “Siyan, you can finally live on now!”

Chen Siyan felt a pang of guilt. She swore to herself that when she created a remarkable piece, Ma Manman would be the first to perform it!

The song and dance troupe, along with the opera and drama troupes, were arranged in a pinwheel layout around an open courtyard.

Passing through a narrow path behind the courtyard, Chen Siyan encountered a group of young performers from the army’s arts troupe. Each of them was holding a bright red apple, with large, golden, glossy loaves of bread in their arms.

Taking big bites of the crisp apples, they would follow it with a mouthful of soft bread, the sweet juices bursting between their teeth.

As they passed by, some of the girls casually pulled tins of imported butter from their pockets and tossed them into a nearby trash can.

Good grief—Soviet-imported butter! Perfect for frying steaks or toasting bread!

And these girls had just thrown it away like it was nothing?

Chen Siyan couldn’t help but swallow hard at the sight.

Seeing how tempted she looked, Xu Li said, “They’re from the army’s arts troupe. Their benefits are the best among all performing arts workers. If you can become a choreographer, you’ll receive the same benefits as they do.”

In the 1960s, apples, bread, and butter were rare luxuries. If she could attain such things just by becoming a choreographer, she had every reason to perform her best.

The No.1 Hall of the song and dance troupe was hosting an internal review meeting for the revamped White-Haired Girl today.

Looking out across the hall, the audience was filled with familiar faces who frequently appeared on screen—renowned performers of the troupe.

With her keen eyes, Chen Siyan immediately noticed a man and woman behaving suspiciously backstage. They were chatting intimately, but upon seeing Xu Li, they abruptly distanced themselves, the man even grabbing a water cup to wipe his mouth.

Xu Li approached the man and said, “Bai Shan, this is a young girl I think has great potential…”

Bai Shan barely glanced at Chen Siyan and commented, “Her figure’s not bad. But didn’t you say you weren’t feeling well today? Why aren’t you resting at home? What are you up to again?”

On the surface, his words seemed like concern, but the disdain in his tone was unmistakable. There was no doubt—this was Xu Li’s husband.

Xu Li ignored him and went up on stage, addressing the leaders, “Comrades, I’ve brought a young performer today. She’ll be performing a short piece for everyone.”

Bai Shan’s face darkened as he too stepped onto the stage. “Xiao Li, can’t we talk about these things at home? Don’t stir up trouble here, alright?”

The B-role actress also curled her lips in disdain, shrinking back into a defensive posture.

Xu Li shot a cold glare and raised her voice, “Bai Shan, what’s wrong with you? I never said this girl would be playing Xi’er. I simply said she’ll perform a dance for everyone to see. Is that not allowed?”

Turning to Chen Siyan, she added, “Go ahead, show them the piece you performed earlier.”

In the audience sat some of the most prominent figures in the arts community.

And because of a chaotic little power play, Chen Siyan had unexpectedly been given a chance to showcase her talent.

She said, “Could I trouble the teacher to play Ode for me?”

Immediately, Bai Shan and the B-role actress both breathed a sigh of relief.

Because Ode was a Mongolian melody, and ballet was never performed to Mongolian tunes.

So she’s probably just going to improvise something nice-looking for the moment, they thought.

Bai Shan switched on the record player, replaced the vinyl, and patted the sound system. “Alright then, let’s see how good this ‘prodigy’ that Xu Li, who knows nothing about artistic depth, has found really is.”

Wow. Even in casual remarks, this man couldn’t resist putting down his own wife. Clearly, Director Bai was a master manipulator.

Once Chen Siyan transferred to the troupe, she would definitely have to tread carefully around this scumbag.

As for how good her dance really was, Chen Siyan didn’t need to boast.

As an ace choreographer, the dances she creates are ones that allow ordinary people to understand and fall in love with ballet.

She took off her shoes. The original owner’s feet, having had little training, were still unscathed and smooth, betraying no trace of experience.

Little B actually let out a snicker, laced with mockery.

Chen Siyu thought to herself, “You just wait and see.”

Without proper dance shoes, she could only wrap her feet in cloth strips. Yet, when she rose en pointe and tapped rhythmically on the stage, her posture was so flawless that even the harshest dance instructors wouldn’t find fault with it. The seasoned performers sitting below all straightened in their seats.

The music started. It was Ode of Praise:

“From the grasslands to XXX Square,
Lifting golden goblets to sing this song,
Fragrant wine, blooming flowers,
My voice soars from my chest…”

She lifted her swan-like arms gracefully, spinning with her slender legs in perfect alignment with the music. Her leaps were light, and in midair, she executed a split with such precision that the audience collectively gasped.

Someone whispered in awe, “Ballet can be danced like this?”

As the music swelled, her movements shed the delicate softness of traditional ballet. She infused them with the expansive, powerful strokes of Mongolian dance, yet the elegance remained intact.

Her performance delivered a visceral, bone-deep impact that classical ballet seldom evoked.

Her movements stirred everyone’s emotions and excitement.

It was like the scene of Liu Laolao entering the Grand View Garden—they were witnessing a spectacle beyond their wildest expectations.

One person raised their hands following an impressive leap, but didn’t bring them down in applause.

Another clasped their hands tightly together, restraining their urge to clap.

Dressed in an ordinary green outfit, Chen Siyu harnessed years of pent-up desire to dance and poured it all into this Ode of Praise. Blending Mongolian folk with ballet, she radiated an electrifying sense of power on stage.

She noticed that many in the audience had their eyes wide open, some were staring intently, while others kept raising their hands and then putting them down. From her experience, she knew it was because her performance was exceptionally good.

So good, in fact, that the audience didn’t even have time to exchange reactions with one another.

But when the music ended and she stood still, the audience just stared at her, faces serious, exchanging no words, no applause.

She had danced her heart out, so why weren’t they clapping?

Moments later, Chen Siyu realized—they weren’t reacting because her innovation was too ahead of its time. She had tried to shine, but ended up overstepping.

She was doomed. This whole performance was probably for nothing.

Just then, someone tilted their head and said, “Director, though this isn’t classical ballet, it’s beautiful.”

Another woman nodded, “This piece doesn’t need further revisions—it’s ready for the showcase performance.”

Chen Siyu suddenly understood. She wasn’t facing an ordinary audience, but rather the most discerning, elite senior artists of the nation. They had seen countless technically flawless dancers, so technical prowess no longer impressed them.

Their only criterion was whether a performance was worthy of being showcased at a national level.

And Ode of Praise was a standard showcase piece. Their remarks meant her dance had just been accepted for the showcase, right then and there.

The troupe leader wasn’t someone who applauded easily, yet he clapped his hands, saying, “This young one dances well!”

And as soon as he started clapping, the entire room followed, nodding and saying, “Fresh. Beautiful.”

A standing ovation!

Little B also came up on stage and asked Chen Siyu, “Kid, can I perform this piece too?”

So this Little B wasn’t just good at snatching men, she was equally adept at snatching dances.

Xu Li’s face turned pale with anger, likely worried that Chen Siyu, being too young and soft-hearted, might actually agree.

But Chen Siyu wasn’t that foolish. She smiled and said, “Although I choreographed this dance, it belongs to the collective. Who gets to perform it should be decided by the troupe leaders and Teacher Xu.”

The senior performers and the troupe leader in the audience all nodded in agreement.

Failing to steal the spotlight, Little B had just embarrassed herself on stage.

The showcase meeting had to continue, and whether Chen Siyu would be retained was still up for leadership discussion.

As they left the troupe building together, Xu Li said, “I’ll be going home to have my baby now. I probably won’t return to the stage after this. You’ll start as a choreographer first. Sooner or later, I’ll help you secure a chance to perform on stage.”

With Chen Siyu’s sharp instincts, she could tell just from their body language that White Mountain and Little B had already crossed certain physical boundaries. Out of gratitude to Xu Li for giving her this opportunity, she deliberately asked, “Teacher Xu, is Director Bai playing the role of Xi’er’s husband?”

Xu Li replied sullenly, “No, why would you ask that?” Bai Shan was her husband!

Chen Siyu said, “Well, if not, why were they drinking from the same cup? Aren’t they grossed out by each other’s saliva?”

Sharing a water cup—that’s basically an indirect kiss. And there was even Little B’s lipstick stain on Bai’s cup!

Xu Li was so blind, she hadn’t even noticed that.

It was like she was struck by lightning. Xu Li’s face turned ashen, and she ran off.

Tasked with “official slacking” (since no one would question her now), Chen Siyu took an early leave and made a trip to Dongdan Market.

She was there to inquire about electric piano prices. To her surprise, after all these years, the prices hadn’t dropped at all. A second-hand walnut-cased electric piano still cost 100 yuan. That was steep.

Chen Siyu had only 12 yuan left—nowhere near enough. But today was rent distribution day at the Ink Factory. Once she collected her rent, she could afford to buy it.

Of course, personal enjoyment came first. So, she spent 10 yuan on a full-length mirror, one as tall as a person. This way, she wouldn’t be practicing her basic moves blind at home anymore.

On her way out of the market, she stumbled upon a dirt-covered vendor selling books. Flipping through them, she found a complete collection of Bach sheet music, and another of Beethoven’s titled The Roarer. The price? Only 50 cents each.

Two world-class music scores for a mere one yuan?

Chen Siyu bought them all, already imagining how touched her annoying younger brother would be when he saw them.

As soon as she entered the courtyard, Widow Zhang approached, saying, “You little brat, people said you were seriously ill, but you look perfectly fine to me. On the other hand, Xuan’ang’s grandmother is truly very ill—she’s on the brink of death. Can you still walk? If not, I can carry you over to see her.”

Oh ho, Mao Mu couldn’t resist anymore—she had finally declared war on her.