Chapter 6 The Chief is Worried About Captain Cen’s Marriage

After she finished speaking, she clutched her chest as if heartbroken for Jiang Fei. How many years had it been since the liberation? These days, the reputation of the People’s Liberation Army was held in extremely high regard—anyone accused of slandering a soldier would be publicly condemned. This was Jiang Qingrou’s first little “gift” to Jiang Fei. Compared to how Jiang Fei would later use her own “cleverness and cunning” to bring down Jiang Qingrou’s entire family in one sweep, this was relatively mild.

Jiang Fei was momentarily speechless. Later, when she tried to defend herself, Zhao Xiaozhi pulled her away. Even her former good friend looked at her with disappointment:
“Xiaofei, is this really true?”

The other girls all went to comfort Jiang Qingrou, even Bai Zhenzhu offered her own energy-replenishing pastries. Jiang Qingrou accepted the small box of mung bean cakes without hesitation and said softly,
“Thank you, Squad Leader. You’re such a kind person.”

After that dramatic performance, she really was a bit hungry.

Qin Lulu looked at Jiang Qingrou gratefully.
“Qingrou, I didn’t know you were such a reasonable person. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have been able to clear my name even if I jumped into the Yellow River! I’ll repay you even if I have to work like an ox or horse for you in the future!”

Jiang Qingrou waved her hand and gave a weak smile.
“What nonsense are you talking about? I make friends with sincerity, heart for heart. How could I let you be indebted to me like that?”

Subtext: I’m not a green tea b*tch like Jiang Fei.

While the room buzzed with emotion, a few people were quietly standing outside. One of them leaned toward the tall, straight-backed figure in front and whispered,
“Commander, should we investigate what that girl just said? What if someone really is slandering a retired soldier?”

The man referred to as “Commander” responded slowly, his voice low and lazily composed,
“No need.”

It was just a little drama among young girls—not worth escalating.

Then he strode away, and the others quickly followed. The one walking at the end silently gave a thumbs-up in his heart for the brave, beautiful girl just now.
Young people with that kind of awareness in peacetime were rare these days.

But when he looked at the calm, imposing back of the commander ahead, he suddenly grew nervous again.

Who on earth had forced Commander Cen to act as a judge for such a trivial selection event?

A dignified commander being dragged into something so small—it was the subordinates who ended up suffering!

Almost right after Jiang Qingrou finished her speech, the broadcast system came to life:
“Dance assessment is officially beginning. Please prepare to take the stage in the order of your draw number!”

The dressing room instantly fell silent.

Everyone returned to their seats, restless and anxious. That earlier drama couldn’t compare to the importance of their futures.

Jiang Qingrou was nervous too—debating whether to perform a Dai ethnic dance or a street dance.
After a moment’s hesitation, she decided to go with the Dai dance. Even though she had only learned a comedic version, if she danced seriously… maybe, hopefully, it would still work.

Street dance, after all, was too out of place for this era—not to mention it didn’t meet the exam requirements.

Jiang Fei, looking at her bare face in the mirror, was growing frantic. She regretted fighting with Jiang Qingrou earlier. Not only did she suffer a huge loss, but now she hadn’t even put on makeup.

She had planned to use Jiang Qingrou’s cosmetics. The products in the dressing room couldn’t compare.

Unconsciously, she looked toward Jiang Qingrou with a pleading gaze.

Jiang Qingrou smiled sweetly in return. When her peach blossom eyes curved with that soft smile, the little eye bags beneath them made her look particularly charming and innocent.

Jiang Fei’s expression turned cold instantly.

Others might not know, but she did—this was Jiang Qingrou pretending to be pure again.

Their brief eye contact didn’t escape Bai Zhenzhu, who noticed it and looked at Jiang Fei with suspicion.
Could it be that Jiang Fei really was like Jiang Qingrou said—two-faced?

Jiang Qingrou noticed the faint disgust and confusion on Bai Zhenzhu’s face and shifted her gaze away in satisfaction.

Jiang Fei was great at pretending to be sweet, but she, as an actress, refused to believe she could be outperformed at her own game.

Unable to borrow from Jiang Qingrou, Jiang Fei turned her eyes toward Bai Zhenzhu.
After all, it had been Bai Zhenzhu who said she’d take her to borrow makeup.

But before she could approach, Bai Zhenzhu cut her off with a cold tone:
“Everyone’s resting. Why are you walking around?”

A blatant rejection.

Jiang Fei reluctantly returned to her seat. Looking at her dull, makeup-free face in the mirror, then at Jiang Qingrou’s radiant, well-done makeup, she clenched her fists in hatred.

Still, she forced herself to calm down. Her mental strength had always been solid.

After all, this was a dance exam, not a beauty pageant—it was about basic skills.
And she knew full well that Jiang Qingrou was a useless showpiece.

Just one pretty stumble in public—that’s all it would be.

The calling of names began quickly. Each person had only three minutes to perform.

What was different this time was that the scores were being announced live on-site, to ensure fairness—making everyone even more tense.

During a break, Yusi Ming on the judging panel leaned over and whispered to the person behind him,
“Why is Commander Cen sitting in the back the whole time? Isn’t he part of the judging panel?”

He quickly glanced at the last row of the audience.

The soldier behind him replied with difficulty,
“You know Commander Cen has never been interested in this kind of thing. If the higher-ups hadn’t pressured him, he wouldn’t even be here.”

“Higher-ups?” Yusi Ming was puzzled.
How had this involved someone from the top command?

The person was about to answer when a sudden cough made him freeze.
He turned around nervously—somehow, Cen Shi, the very man they were talking about, had already opened his eyes.

He pressed his thin lips together, his cold, sharp eyes full of warning. The soldier had no choice but to swallow the words he was about to say—“The commander is just worried about Colonel Cen’s marriage.”

Yu Siming turned his head again and repeated the question, but the moment he met that man’s gaze, he immediately turned back around.

So that was the legendary Colonel Cen?

He wore a sharply tailored military uniform, with deep-set eyes, a high nose bridge, thin lips, and a sharply defined jawline. Even as a man, Yu Siming had to admit—this guy was unbelievably handsome.

But it wasn’t just the looks. What truly stood out was the aura he carried—like a solid wall of defense. Even without speaking a word, just one glance screamed “Stay away.”
Yet at the same time, that cold aura was inexplicably attractive.

A voice from the loudspeaker snapped him out of his thoughts:
“Next up, number thirty-nine—Jiang Qingrou.”

As soon as the name was announced, Yu Siming frowned.
This was the younger sister Jiang Fei said bullied her and got in through connections?
He couldn’t help but glance over with a hint of disdain.

But the moment he looked, he was stunned.

The girl on stage had curved, smiling eyes and a face so exquisitely bright and beautiful that it was impossible to look away. Her naturally fair, pink-toned skin was like that of a porcelain doll. The fitted dance costume outlined an alluring figure—slim waist, long legs, wrists reaching below the crotch line—clearly the build of someone born to dance.

Yu Siming’s earlier disdain faded slightly, replaced by a sense of regret.
How could someone with such potential be just a scheming pretty face?

The subordinate sitting beside Cen Shi couldn’t hide his excitement and whispered,
“Commander! That’s the girl who defended the soldiers earlier—she’s stunning!”

Cen Shi lowered his gaze and replied indifferently,
“Remember you’re a soldier.”

At that moment, Jiang Qingrou was more nervous than anyone.
Though she wasn’t a stranger to being on stage, today’s performance was the one she felt least confident about: a traditional ethnic dance.

“Why hasn’t she started yet?” someone from backstage urged.

Jiang Qingrou braced herself and gave a small nod. Her crisp voice rang out, paired with a signature bright smile:
“Respected leaders and judges, I am number thirty-nine, Jiang Qingrou. Today, I will be performing a Dai ethnic dance.”

With that, she took a deep breath—and as the music began, so did her performance.