Chapter 3 – Falling Out

In the troupe, Xu Ruyan had always played the pitiful role of a girl exploited by her parents. But in truth, her mind was as scheming as a sieve. The fact that she had hidden money and possessions was something Shen Nanqing only found out by chance.

One time, the sentry at the gate notified that someone was looking for Xu Ruyan. The person claimed it was an urgent matter. Shen Nanqing didn’t know where Xu Ruyan had gone and, worried something might have happened, went to check first.

The visitor turned out to be Xu Ruyan’s younger sister—a timid, shy girl Shen Nanqing had seen a couple of times before.

She said that their younger brother had gotten into a fight and injured someone. The family was being asked to pay compensation, or the other party would report it to the police. Their parents had sent her to ask her sister for money.

Shen Nanqing often heard Xu Ruyan complain that her parents favored sons over daughters, forcing her to hand over 35 yuan of her monthly salary. If she didn’t comply, her parents would come make a scene at the unit. Afraid of damaging her reputation, she had no choice but to grit her teeth and agree.

“Your sister gives 35 yuan to the family every month. Where is she supposed to get more money? You should tell your parents to think of another way,” Shen Nanqing said angrily.

“Thirty-five?” Xu Ruyan looked confused. She mumbled quietly, “She only gives 15 yuan a month though…”

Shen Nanqing had only paused in surprise at the time. Her own family never asked for her salary—on the contrary, they often gave her extra money. Girls had more expenses, after all. So she didn’t dwell on it.

Later, Xu Ruyan arrived to handle things herself. How the situation was resolved, Shen Nanqing didn’t know. But somehow, rumors about Xu Ruyan’s parents being leeches started to spread.

From then on, everyone looked at Xu Ruyan with sympathetic eyes.

Looking back now, that rumor had probably been spread by Xu Ruyan herself. At the very least, it conveniently excused her from scrutiny whenever she mooched off Shen Nanqing—people even thought it was justified.

Clearly reminded of that incident, Xu Ruyan reluctantly returned the remaining money.

With the hefty sum finally in her hands, Shen Nanqing felt a bit better. She shot a glance at Xu Ruyan, whose eyes were now dark and unreadable, and said mockingly, “Oh right, that sand in your dance shoes? It’s evidence. You’d better keep it safe.”

After that, she turned her gaze to the three girls still awkwardly standing around and said blandly, “Still want to report me? If you’re going, go now.”

“Hmph.” Even Li Zhen, slow as she was, could now see she had been played by Xu Ruyan. She shot Shen Nanqing a glare, then turned toward her own bed. As she passed by Xu Ruyan, she deliberately bumped her shoulder and muttered, “Jinx.”

Zhu Xiaomeng and Liu Huixin exchanged glances. Though they were still bitter over Shen Nanqing’s earlier sarcasm, they were unwilling to leave things like this. They walked over to Li Zhen’s bed and opened their mouths to speak, but Li Zhen clearly didn’t want to engage. She turned her back to them.

Left with no choice, the two girls slunk away, casting furtive glances at Shen Nanqing before grabbing their enamel washbasins and heading out to freshen up.

At last, peace returned.

Only now did Shen Nanqing have the leisure to carefully examine her new living environment.

The room was quite spacious, with three wooden bunk beds. The bedding was neatly folded into uniform “tofu blocks.” Posters of performances were pinned to the walls, though some corners were starting to peel. Books sat neatly stacked on the desk, and a potted green plant on the windowsill brought a touch of life to the otherwise dated room.

Not bad at all.

Under the moonlight, and the long, crisp call of lights-out, the chatter and laughter outside gradually faded, and everything settled into silence.

In the dark dormitory, however, none of the girls were truly at peace.

Xu Ruyan lay on the top bunk above Shen Nanqing. She gently lifted the mosquito net and peeked out, trying to observe something below. Seeing no movement, she lay back down.

She really couldn’t understand how Shen Nanqing had suddenly become like a different person. She knew how much Shen Nanqing cared about saving face and how afraid she was of becoming a laughingstock. Even if Shen Nanqing had found out about her and Li Haoxuan, she wouldn’t have dared to say anything openly—at most, she’d pull a few tricks behind her back.

Shen Nanqing was someone who had no concept of money. In the past, she would’ve never done something as petty as demanding repayment—she would’ve thought it crass and vulgar. Thinking of those ten or so “Great Unity” banknotes, Xu Ruyan felt as if someone had sliced off a piece of her own flesh. It hurt—badly.

She turned her thoughts to tomorrow’s casting selection, and her pent-up frustration finally eased a little.

Previously, Li Haoxuan had secretly told her that a delegation from the General Political Department was coming to their troupe to select people for a performance tour—rumor had it that it would be for a performance in front of the great leader himself. That was undoubtedly a golden path to success.

In the troupe, the lead role had always gone to Shen Nanqing. As long as she was around, Xu Ruyan knew she would never see the light of day.

So she had made up her mind to push Shen Nanqing off the stage. As the saying goes, “An injury to the bones takes a hundred days to heal.” As long as Shen Nanqing was down, no one else in the troupe could surpass her.

Xu Ruyan could already picture the grand doors of the General Political Department swinging open for her. The smile on her lips could no longer be suppressed as she drifted off into a blissful sleep.

—

By the time Shen Nanqing woke up, the dorm was empty—she was the only one left. It had been a long time since she had slept so soundly. After becoming famous, her work schedule had always been packed, and her sleep severely deprived. Later, illness tossed her back and forth between life and death, making restful sleep nearly impossible.

Now that she had finally gotten a good night’s sleep, even the pounding in her head had eased. Her whole body felt much more relaxed.

She stretched lazily, then slowly picked up the watch by her pillow. It was almost eight o’clock. She remembered that training started at eight.

There was no time to lose. Shen Nanqing quickly got dressed and grabbed her enamel basin before hurrying out to wash up. This was her first time participating in the troupe’s official training—she couldn’t be late.

The rehearsal hall had once been a grand auditorium. It was spacious, with windows along two walls. Sunlight streamed through the glass and onto the wooden floor, bright and warm. Half the hall was used by the vocal department, while the other half was for dance practice. The stretching bars were neatly arranged along the wall, and on the inner side was an entire wall of mirrors. Everyone loved checking themselves out in that mirror—many had even been scolded by the troupe leader for it.

Shen Nanqing still ended up being late. When she pushed open the door to the rehearsal room, she was hit by a wave of youthful energy and high spirits. The girls were all in uniform practice clothes, dancing to the rhythm of the music.

Her arrival drew quite a few glances.

“What are you all looking at? Focus. Mind your spacing,” Song Huaizhi said sternly. Her peripheral vision followed the group’s line of sight until it landed on Shen Nanqing. She was slightly surprised but quickly recovered. She raised her hand, signaling for her to wait a moment.

Shen Nanqing nodded obediently.

She had complicated feelings toward Song Huaizhi.

In her past life, after Shen Nanqing’s parents divorced and started new families, they stopped caring about her. She lived with her elderly grandparents. Supporting an art student was expensive, and they clearly couldn’t afford it. Shen Nanqing had no choice but to give up the dance training she’d pursued since childhood.

When her teacher, Ms. Li, found out, she couldn’t bear to let a promising talent be wasted and secretly sponsored her all the way into adulthood.

Song Huaizhi reminded Shen Nanqing so much of Ms. Li—not in appearance, but in character. Both were people who cherished and nurtured talent, and both had shown her great kindness.

During a break in rehearsal, Song Huaizhi pulled Shen Nanqing aside into the office. She checked her head and asked with concern, “Does it still hurt?”

Shen Nanqing shook her head. “It’s just a bump. The doctor checked it—nothing serious.”

Song Huaizhi let out a breath of relief, but then remembered the casting selection happening today and said with some regret, “If I’d known earlier, I would’ve added your name to the list yesterday.”