Chapter 7: The Cultural Troupe

Soon, the day of the audition arrived.

Lin Yiqiao was well-prepared. She revised the concept of her dance and renamed it “Red Blossom,” symbolizing the indomitable vitality of soldiers and the thriving spirit of the nation.

The audition was held in the military district’s small auditorium. She looked around and noticed that not many people seemed to know about it. Most of the contestants were family members of military officers.

The girls all wore thick, glossy black braids and had vibrant, wholesome faces — carrying the unique innocence of this era.

Lin Yiqiao was placed toward the end of the lineup. Most of the performers before her chose similar styles — some wore stage outfits they had prepared, others simply wore military-green uniforms.

The dance routines weren’t exactly professional or refined, but they had an undeniable air of righteousness.

Backstage, Lin Yiqiao chatted with the others and realized that nearly all of them had at least ten years of dance training. Their résumés were impressive — some had even gone to university.

So this was the power of Beidu’s education system.

Before long, it was Lin Yiqiao’s turn. She took a deep breath and stepped onto the stage with poised, textbook-perfect circular steps.

Reaching center stage, she smiled at the panel of judges and glanced up at the emblem of the Beidu Military Region on the ceiling.

She couldn’t help but chuckle softly. A girl from a small southern town like me… standing on the grand stage of Beidu — how surreal.

The music began. She took her mark — and danced.

Her movements were both graceful and fierce. The flowing sleeves of her costume struck the ground like drumbeats.

As she moved, Lin Yiqiao couldn’t help but recall a dance performance from the third grade.

She had mentioned needing 30 cents for dance shoes over dinner. Her stepfather’s face had turned dark instantly.

Her mother had dragged her into the room without a word and scolded her harshly. When Lin Yiqiao talked back just a little, her mother pinched her cheeks so hard it felt like she wanted to rip off a piece of flesh.

Her stepsister, Jiang Li, had laughed at her and asked if she’d been beaten. She gritted her teeth and denied it.

She still remembered Jiang Li’s mocking voice:
“Stop pretending. Your mom pinched your face so bad it’s swollen. A burden like you has no business learning to dance.”

Even now, Lin Yiqiao wanted to barge in and beat them all to a pulp.

Shameless trash. She should’ve left them all with swollen faces before she ran.

But it didn’t matter.

The day I rise is the day they’re buried.

A sharp, commanding movement cut through the graceful rhythm — the crashing water sleeves hitting the floor added a warrior’s determination to the otherwise delicate dance.

In that moment, she was the Red Blossom — the female warrior.

The room was silent for three seconds, then erupted into thunderous applause.

Zheng Qinghui’s eyes lit up. As head of the Cultural Troupe, she was the backbone of this audition.

In her opinion, dance was a form of storytelling — the most powerful dance was one that could stir emotions.

In this routine, Lin Yiqiao had embodied both the gentle charm of a southern girl and the strength of a female soldier.

Zheng Qinghui felt her emotion.

Though her technique wasn’t the most refined, her strengths more than made up for it. The troupe didn’t need elegant perfection — it needed passion and power that could move soldiers and the people.

As the dance ended, Lin Yiqiao stood tall, her cheeks flushed. She looked like a stubborn but charming red blossom in full bloom.

Her eyes met Zheng Qinghui’s approving gaze. She responded with a shy, down-to-earth smile.

Little did Lin Yiqiao know that her emotional performance had hit the mark perfectly.

As she stepped off stage to the sound of applause, even the other girls backstage were impressed.

“Your dance was so powerful and moving,” said Su Min, daughter of the political commissar Su Shiqi.

“Thank you. Actually, I thought your performance was amazing too — resilient like wild grass in spring, yet soft like flowers. You really struck the perfect balance,” Lin Yiqiao replied with a smile.

She quickly shoved the memory of her awful stepfather and his family out of her head.

“You watched my dance?” Su Min looked a bit shy.

“Of course! It was eye-catching. I couldn’t look away if I tried.”

Lin Yiqiao also thought highly of Su Min — her skills were solid, and she had an agreeable personality.

Maybe the two of us will both get into the troupe.

Zheng Qinghui wasn’t one to drag things out. She announced the results on the spot.

“Su Min, Lin Yiqiao. The rest of you can wait for the next round of recruitment or seek other opportunities.”

Lin Yiqiao was overjoyed. Su Min beamed and ran up to give her a high five.

“From now on, we’ll be comrades-in-arms.”

“Absolutely, Comrade Su. I’ll be learning a lot from you!”

The two of them walked back to the military compound together.

Being around another young woman lifted Lin Yiqiao’s spirits. She felt like she was alive again.

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Life in Beidu passed quickly. Lin Yiqiao’s file was transferred into the military system, and her household registration was officially moved to Beidu.

Only now did she truly feel that she had escaped her past and started a new life.

Soon after, she officially joined the Cultural Troupe. Her looks made her one of the top beauties in the group.

Among the dancers, Chu Qing stood out — extremely skilled and with a dominant personality. She was the big-sister type.

Lin Yiqiao knew exactly how to win over someone like that. It never hurt to attach herself to a strong figure. Chu Qing took good care of both her and Su Min.

She also learned more about Zheng Qinghui. Most artists in this era were proud and idealistic — and Zheng Qinghui was no exception.

In front of her, Lin Yiqiao portrayed herself as upright and hardworking.

Overall, she was doing well in the troupe. Good opportunities actually came her way now.

Before long, a major natural disaster hit Nanshan, forcing mass relocation. The higher-ups ordered the military’s Cultural Troupe to perform for the affected people.

The unit in charge of disaster relief?

The 32nd Regiment.

Lin Yiqiao didn’t hesitate — she signed up immediately.