Ming Li didn’t give Gu Qingshuang a formal invitation. Instead, before leaving the house that morning, she simply placed the performance ticket on the dressing table.
As long as Gu Qingshuang returned to the room, she wouldn’t be able to miss it.
Ming Li rehearsed twice throughout the morning and afternoon. Only after confirming that every position on stage was flawless did she begin her hair and makeup.
The backstage of the Jing’an Grand Theater had several dressing rooms, but because of the special guests, Zhu Hanxing and Chun Liuyi, the best private lounges had been assigned to them.
Ming Li and Sun Xihan shared the large communal dressing room.
Dozens of ensemble dancers were there as well. Friends chatted as they worked, their voices rising and falling in a constant hum. Individually, they weren’t loud, but together they sounded like a disturbed nest of chirping birds.
Ming Li found the experience novel. It had been a long time since she had been part of such a bustling environment. For the past few years, her styling had always been done in the Gu family’s private dressing room, where it was so quiet you could hear everyone’s breathing.
Ming Li didn’t mind the noise, but Sun Xihan kept her brow furrowed until she finally gave up and put on noise-canceling headphones.
Once the styling was complete and the show was about to begin, the Dean came by to offer words of encouragement. After addressing the group, she took a special look at Ming Li, stepped forward, and patted her shoulder. “Give it your best.”
Flattered, Ming Li replied, “I will.”
…
The performance began. Following the routine they had practiced countless times, Ming Li felt her palms break into a nervous sweat before stepping onto the stage.
Zhu Hanxing cheered her on. “You’re Ming Li! You’ve stood on the stage of the Jing’an Grand Theater before. This is your home turf. Don’t worry.”
Ming Li flashed her a smile. “Let’s do our best together!”
She was nervous, yes, but her excitement far outweighed her anxiety. Finally, she could dance on this stage once again.
However, the moment the music swelled and she stepped into the spotlight, the world outside ceased to exist. She couldn’t see anyone, and she had no energy to think of anything else. She focused entirely on every movement of her feet, pouring everything into the dance.
But during a brief moment of respite in the shadows after her solo portion ended, she glanced toward the audience.
She saw Gu Xueqiang sitting regally in the best seat, appreciating the magnificent production. Beside her, however, was an empty chair.
Furthermore, the specific seat Ming Li had reserved for her “spouse” was also vacant.
Gu Qingshuang didn’t come.
Ming Li lowered her lashes. She didn’t have time to dwell on the heartache before it was time to exit the stage.
…
The dance drama lasted nearly an hour, followed by thirty minutes of interaction. Since it was the premiere, many reporters had shown up, mostly for Zhu Hanxing and Chun Liuyi.
This was their first public appearance together since their movie collaboration. Given the swirling online rumors about them, the media wasn’t about to miss the chance to pry.
However, Chun Liuyi had been in the industry for years and was as slick as a fox. With a few words, she pivoted the conversation back to the drama itself, returning the spotlight to the lead of Thorn Crown, Sun Xihan.
Ming Li stood beside Sun Xihan and took questions from the media as well. Unlike the sharp, pointed questions directed at Sun Xihan, the ones for Ming Li were very gentle. It was clear the media didn’t want to waste much ink on a “faded star” like her.
Ming Li was perfectly content with this. She answered the questions seriously and then stood back as a quiet background presence.
From the stage, she looked down and met Gu Xueqiang’s eyes. Once Ming Li finished her interview, Gu Xueqiang got up to leave. The Dean personally and respectfully escorted her out, a testament to her high status.
Though the night’s performance had its flaws, achieving this much had not been easy.
After the group curtain call, the audience and reporters dispersed. The Dean suggested a celebration banquet. Even Chun Liuyi and Zhu Hanxing were invited. The Dean had already booked a venue, and dozens of people piled onto a bus to head over.
Ming Li and Sun Xihan rode in Zhu Hanxing’s car. All three were uncharacteristically silent.
Perhaps they were simply exhausted. After a long while, Zhu Hanxing was the first to speak. “Sister Li, didn’t you give the ticket to Gu Qingshuang?”
“I did,” Ming Li said. “She must be busy.”
Busyness was the most convenient of excuses.
“What do you mean?” Zhu Hanxing countered. “I saw it clearly. Even Gu Qingshuang’s mother showed up tonight. You two seem to be getting along well lately.”
“It’s alright,” Ming Li said. “I didn’t expect her to come either.”
Ming Li hadn’t thought about it, but now she realized why Gu Xueqiang had looked at her that way the previous night. She was likely waiting for Ming Li to offer her a ticket.
In truth, getting the tickets hadn’t been easy. The tickets her teacher gave her had already been passed on to Gu Fei. Tonight, Gu Fei had not only attended but had even sent a massive flower basket with a banner that read: Wishing Ming Li a successful performance. Pure and Sincere Love.
The ticket Ming Li had left for Gu Qingshuang had actually been requested from Sun Xihan.
Yet, Gu Qingshuang hadn’t come.
Ming Li didn’t want to dwell on why. If she didn’t come, it was because she didn’t want to. If one truly wanted to be somewhere, they would move mountains to make it happen.
Zhu Hanxing curled her lip. “I thought your ‘Sister Gu’ had turned a new leaf.”
Ming Li laughed. “Why are you so concerned about her?”
“Am I concerned about her?” Zhu Hanxing snapped. “I’m concerned about you!”
Ming Li’s expression remained unchanged. “I’m doing fine.”
Zhu Hanxing: “…”
Sun Xihan added gloomily from the side, “Wasting my ticket.”
“I’ll make it up to you when there’s a chance,” Ming Li offered.
Sun Xihan shot her a look. “Whoever wasted it should be the one making it up to me. Not you.”
“But I’m the one who gave it away,” Ming Li said. “You gave the ticket to me.”
Sun Xihan didn’t want to argue logistics. She was stubborn to a fault. “Its final destination was her. She didn’t show up, so she’s in the wrong.”
Ming Li shook her head helplessly. “Maybe something came up at the last minute.”
Seeing the mood, Zhu Hanxing changed the subject. They chatted about trivial things for a bit before falling silent again. Music played in the car; Zhu Hanxing hummed along while Sun Xihan, exhausted, drifted off to sleep.
When they reached their destination, Zhu Hanxing nudged Sun Xihan. “Wake up, we’re here.”
Ming Li grabbed her coat and bag and stepped out of the car, waiting for them on the sidewalk.
Sun Xihan was so tired she wanted to go straight home to bed. She yawned as she got out, her eyes watering. A second later, her gaze fixed on something across the street and she scowled.
“Are we going in or what?” Zhu Hanxing shouted. “I’m starving.”
Sun Xihan replied coldly, “Go in? My ass!”
Zhu Hanxing’s eyes widened. “What did you say?! You’re a lady, remember? Ladies don’t curse.”
Sun Xihan let out a cold laugh, rolled up her sleeves, and started marching across the road.
Ming Li had been standing there in a daze, feeling that post-work mix of satisfaction and emptiness. Seeing Sun Xihan looking like she was about to start a brawl, she immediately grabbed her wrist.
The light had three seconds of green left before switching to red.
“What are you doing?” Ming Li asked. “The place the Dean booked is back there.”
“I’m going to hit someone,” Sun Xihan said, her expression complex.
Ming Li paused. “Hit who?”
Sun Xihan looked at her, temporarily speechless.
A few seconds later, Zhu Hanxing let out a low, “Holy crap!”
Ming Li looked at her too. “What now?”
