Shen Yihan woke up at seven in the morning the next day.
This was his usual wake-up time for work.
His biological clock had always been precise.
He glanced at his sister’s bedroom door, then at Mr. Xie’s.
Hmm, good.
Both doors were tightly shut.
His defense last night had succeeded!
Today was Sunday, so his sister could sleep in a little longer.
He didn’t have work either.
Dragging his blanket, he returned to the guest room the maid had prepared the night before.
Sleeping on the floor had left him sore and unrested.
He dozed off again.
When he woke up and stepped out of the guest room,
he happened to see his sister leaving her room as well.
He greeted her, "Good morning, sis."
Lin Mo shot him a look. "Bad morning, 'Buddha of the Capital Circle'."
Shen Yihan: "..."
Shen Yihan noticed his sister seemed in a bad mood and asked, "What’s wrong, sis?"
Was she upset about what he’d done last night?
But he really couldn’t help worrying.
Lin Mo shook her head. "It’s nothing."
Downstairs,
Shen Yihan saw Xie Guanyan sitting on the sofa, working on his laptop.
Meanwhile, his sister acted as if she didn’t see Mr. Xie at all, striding out in silence.
Shen Yihan frowned.
Were they fighting?
But how? They hadn’t even interacted last night.
Over WeChat?
Xie Guanyan watched the girl’s retreating figure, his eyes darkening behind his silver-rimmed glasses.
"Did anything interesting happen last night?"
Zhao Ziling asked Lin Mo from the driver’s seat of her sports car, her oversized sunglasses perched on her nose.
Two people with mutual interest, both drunk—some sparks were bound to fly.
Lin Mo paused while fastening her seatbelt.
Her mind flashed back to the sight of that beautiful man performing a risqué dance last night.
After it ended, she realized what she’d said and nearly died of embarrassment on the spot.
Too mortified to look at Xie Guanyan, she’d stiffly collapsed onto the bed, pretending to be asleep.
And then she’d actually fallen asleep!
She had no idea when Xie Guanyan had left.
Waking up this morning and remembering everything,
she’d sat on the toilet for a full hour, too embarrassed to leave her room.
How was she supposed to face Xie Guanyan after saying something like that?
Would he kick her out?
Thankfully, Zhao Ziling’s call had given her an excuse to escape.
"Nothing happened,"
Lin Mo replied, finally securing her seatbelt.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want to share—it was just that Xie Guanyan’s penchant for risqué dances was his own little secret.
Having enjoyed the "benefits," she owed it to him to keep it confidential.
The car started.
Zhao Ziling’s long, curly hair fluttered in the wind as she smirked, eyes on the road. "Tch, you’re totally reminiscing. Something definitely went down!"
Lin Mo’s face flushed, and she changed the subject. "How long will it take to get there?"
Zhao Ziling checked the GPS. "About half an hour."
She’d spent last night thinking a lot.
About why Huo Tingshen had shown up.
It wasn’t hard to guess—someone at the KTV must’ve tipped him off.
Huo Tingshen had long since warned all the KTV owners in the capital.
The staff couldn’t exactly defy their boss’s orders.
But why hadn’t he barged in angrily? Instead, he’d worn a mask and pretended to be a male escort.
What was he thinking?
Not that it mattered. She didn’t care.
What mattered was her decision to start dancing again and pursue her dream.
Her greatest ambition had once been to win the Lotus Award, the highest honor in dance.
Back then, she’d been so close.
She’d made it to the finals and practiced relentlessly every day.
Then came her arranged marriage to the Huo Family.
But right after the wedding, Huo Tingshen had coldly informed her: no more dancing.
It felt like a bolt from the blue.
She’d pleaded, explaining how much she loved dance and how hard she’d worked to reach the finals.
Huo Tingshen had scoffed. As the young madam of the Huo Family, she wasn’t to "make a spectacle of herself" in public.
That feudalistic tyrant saw dance as nothing but a means to seduce men.
He didn’t understand that some danced purely for passion.
He didn’t know dance wasn’t just about grace and allure—there were also powerful, heroic styles.
But his deep-rooted prejudice and family traditions made him deaf to her pleas.
The day before the competition, she’d still packed her things, determined to go.
Then her stepmother showed up with lackeys.
They threw out all her dance gear and competition essentials.
Her stepmother then lectured her—the Zhao family now relied on the Huo Family. She couldn’t defy Huo Tingshen.
Helpless, she’d given up.
She didn’t know how to face her teacher. The next day, she ignored every one of her teacher’s calls.
Locked in the bathroom, she’d cried for hours.
After that day, her teacher never contacted her again.
When she finally mustered the courage to explain, she found her teacher had blocked her on everything.
Now, if she wanted to return to the stage, she first had to beg her teacher’s forgiveness.
Her teacher, Xu Yali—revered as the "Mother of Classical Dance"—was now the chairwoman of the Beijing Classical Dance Troupe.
She’d learned the troupe was performing at the theater today, so her teacher should be there.
But she feared Xu Yali might refuse to see her.
So she’d brought Lin Mo along.
Back then, she and Lin Mo had been the two protégées handpicked by their teacher from hundreds of students.
But fate had other plans.
Lin Mo’s family met with tragedy, forcing her to abandon dance.
Their teacher had been heartbroken, then poured all her energy into Zhao Ziling.
To teach her more conveniently, Xu Yali had even settled in the capital.
No wonder she’d been so furious she cut Zhao Ziling off.
She’d wasted all her teacher’s efforts!
The day Lin Mo’s "death" was announced,
she and their teacher had stood together on a bridge—Xu Yali had wept until she fainted.
If their teacher knew Lin Mo was alive, she’d be overjoyed.
Maybe she’d even give Zhao Ziling another chance.
Facing her former teacher again, Lin Mo was nervous too.
As a child, she’d been curious about everything, eager to try it all.
Her parents had hired the best instructors.
She’d loved dance.
Not as passionately as Zhao Ziling, perhaps.
But giving it up hadn’t been by choice.
Dance couldn’t protect her three younger brothers.
She’d swapped dance hours for martial arts, taekwondo, and Muay Thai.
Their teacher had been deeply saddened but understood.
"Later, you’ve got to put in a good word for me!"
At a red light, Zhao Ziling hit the brakes and turned to Lin Mo.
Lin Mo smiled. "I will."
She hadn’t known Xu Yali was living in the capital—otherwise, she’d have visited sooner.
Suddenly remembering something, Zhao Ziling said, "I heard Teacher Xu got married."
Lin Mo’s eyes widened. "Really? Who’s the lucky guy worthy of our Teacher Xu?"
Eleven years ago, Xu Yali had already been in her forties. Now she was past fifty.
The woman had dedicated her life to artistic perfection.
To maintain her dancer’s physique, she’d remained unmarried and childless into her forties.
Zhao Ziling shrugged. "No idea who. Teacher Xu never brings him around."
Lin Mo narrowed her eyes. "Must be true love, to make her marry in her fifties!"
Zhao Ziling adjusted her sunglasses. "Hard to say, but that man’s definitely got something going for him!"
Chatting about this and that, they soon arrived at the grand theater.
