Chapter 1584 - Emergency Notice
The sun sank toward the west, and burning clouds painted the towers, terraces, carriages, and horses of Lingao County seat in faint shades of crimson.
A Dongfeng carriage rolled unhurriedly down the newly paved street. The coachman lifted the reins gently, and the well-trained draft horse eased to a stop beside a building bearing a plaque that read "Central Experimental Art Troupe." A female Senator stepped from the carriage—her black hair swept up in a "Paris Bird's Nest" bun, skirts fluttering, bearing dignified, elegant with a hint of charm. It was Liu Shuixin.
At that moment, an identical carriage pulled up close behind. Before it had fully stopped, a figure leapt down—a young girl wearing a blue sailor-collar dress with white trim.
"Oh, Teacher Liu! What a coincidence! It's been so long! You look wonderful! Wow, what a beautiful skirt—and it's so new! Looks like it's made in Lingao. They've finally learned how to make clothes!"
The girl bounded over to Liu Shuixin, her questions rattling out like machine-gun fire. Liu Shuixin was well-acquainted with every "Little Senator," particularly the girls—she taught body-shaping classes weekly.
"Ziqi, what brings you here? You're not in the performance." Liu Shuixin smiled. "Though I think you could manage a program."
"I couldn't possibly," Lin Ziqi waved her hands repeatedly. "My singing is a car crash, my dancing is a dance of demons... No talent whatsoever. I'm just here to keep her company during rehearsal!" She pointed at Zhang Yunmi, who had just stepped down from the carriage behind her, already dressed in performance costume. The latter smiled in greeting: "Hello, Teacher Liu! Coming to give guidance at this hour—you work so hard!"
"Hello, Yunmi! For the sake of quality, a little hard work is nothing. But it's wonderful that you can lead the dance! Rehearsal is about to start—let's go in!"
Zhang Yunmi's dance progress over these few days of rehearsal could only be called rapid. Liu Shuixin appreciated her tremendously. This girl not only possessed keen comprehension but genuine endurance: dancing was easy enough—as long as one looked cute, had a good figure, and possessed a bit of musical sense, girls dancing idol routines could garner endless "Likes." But to dance well, with true expressiveness, required considerable work and practice. Zhang Yunmi had no dance foundation whatsoever. She had been rather stiff at first, relying entirely on sacrificed rest time for repeated practice. Liu Shuixin's words carried genuine warmth.
Liu Shuixin had not initially looked favorably on the Checkered Skirt Club's idol group venture. In another spacetime, she had seen countless girls uploading dance videos online. In her view, some girls with wonderful looks, figures, and smiles put minimal effort into their dancing—even for very simple Japanese idol choreography, they merely swayed hands and feet as if conserving energy. Had Dongmen and the others not explained at length that they were building a "professional group," and had she not genuinely itched to demonstrate her skills, she would never have accepted the role of rehearsal instructor for this idol group.
But after these days of work, she found herself thoroughly enjoying it. After so many years, this was the first time she had seriously choreographed dances for others in preparation for a performance. The long-absent creative work made her radiant—she felt years younger.
The three walked into the building. Lin Ziqi, trailing behind, gestured to the guard to dismiss the carriage.
With the Cultural Festival performance approaching, the Checkered Skirt Club's organizers paid extra attention to this overtime rehearsal. Not only were they all present, but they directed the members through various stage-preparation tasks.
Zhang Berlin stood behind the mixing console, a fine sheen of sweat already beading his forehead.
Because Nan Gonghao—a jack of all trades—could no longer spare time to manage the troupe's far-flung performances, the task of operating playback and amplification equipment on-site had fallen to Zhang Berlin. The "Old Men" of the Checkered Skirt Club suspected this was entirely Okamoto's "deliberate" arrangement—but the main reason for selecting Zhang Berlin was his youth and reportedly quick reflexes.
Operating playback and amplification equipment at a performance was both technical and meticulous work. Hands absolutely must not shake or make mistakes—minor errors meant chaotic music and ugly dancing; major ones could burn out equipment. The sequence of accompaniment was particularly critical: play the wrong segment, and actors dancing strictly to the rhythm would immediately fall into disarray.
Zhang Berlin had spent days studying under Nan Gonghao. After intensive training, he could barely operate the recording and playback equipment independently.
In the rehearsal hall, areas had been marked on the floor with paper tape according to the stage's size and shape. Sunlight streamed through the skylight, illuminating the numbers on the floor with perfect clarity.
White Arabic numerals—0 through 15—arranged in three rows, sixteen standing positions in total.
A group of girls waited in the rehearsal room. They had applied makeup and donned head flowers and small accessories as the performance required. To preserve the beauty and integrity of their costumes, no one sat—all stood against the wall.
"Everyone, take your positions! Let's begin the rehearsal." Liu Shuixin wasted no time on pleasantries with the Checkered Skirt Club's gentlemen. Emerging from the changing room, she slipped directly into professional mode.
She wore a leotard and dance shoes, her hair tied back with a handkerchief so it wouldn't get in the way. Her expression was serious—a completely different person from the charming young woman of moments ago.
The girls quickly found their places according to the rehearsal arrangement. Though there were sixteen standing positions, three people had none and stood in the back row as substitutes. Though dressed and made up according to performance requirements, participating in the full rehearsal, they could only wait on the sidelines during the actual performance for a chance to substitute in.
Zhang Yunmi stood at No. 0—the center of the front row, the so-called Center Position, the focus of the audience's attention. No. 1 belonged to Lin Aili; No. 2 was Zuo Yami's. Reportedly, Dongmen Chuiyu had determined these assignments. Liu Shuixin had originally recommended that Zuo Yami take the No. 1 position, but Dongmen's reasoning was sound: Zuo Yami was an "amateur activist," while Lin Aili was still a full-time student. By age, Lin Aili was also younger—obviously possessing greater potential as an artist.
"Let's go—first song!" Liu Shuixin clapped her hands and called toward Zhang Berlin. "'The Only Flower in the World!'"
Music in the style of another spacetime filled the air. Led by Senator Zhang Yunmi, the girls in checkered skirts danced with nimble steps.
Liu Shuixin stood aside, watching everyone's movements intently, nodding or frowning from time to time.
When the song ended, Dongmen Chuiyu and the others applauded from their seats, but Liu Shuixin shook her head slightly. "There are still some small problems. Starting with Yunmi, come to me one at a time. I'll go over the details."
Lin Ziqi had long found a comfortable chair. Seeing her best friend walking over from Liu Shuixin, she quickly produced Kvass from her bag and offered it, praising as she did: "You look amazing in Japanese style! If this were the old spacetime, people would be swarming you for autographs!"
Zhang Yunmi accepted the drink naturally but didn't engage with the compliment. Worried about ruining her makeup, she dared not use a towel to wipe her face, only blotting sweat with tissue. "Phew. So tiring. Since Uncle Dongmen organized a rehearsal at this hour, he should at least provide dinner, right?"
"Of course!" Lin Ziqi answered loudly. "Our Fangcaodi Initial Class Beauty is here—how could we slight her!"
Zhang Yunmi revealed a shy smile and shook her head. "Don't talk nonsense—what have I become?" She didn't take the Kvass but shook her head. "You have to insert a straw for me."
Lipstick and foundation meant one could only drink through a straw after makeup.
"Ah, I forgot!" Lin Ziqi hurriedly rummaged through her bag for a straw and inserted it into the bottle before handing it over again.
"Thanks. Ziqi, you're really thoughtful."
"You work so hard." Lin Ziqi gazed lovingly at her best friend, who held the glass bottle and sipped in small mouthfuls. "I originally thought this was just for fun..."
"Actually, I think it's fine. Dancing is really interesting. When I'm dancing, my mind goes blank—I don't have to think about anything, just follow the rhythm. Like floating." Zhang Yunmi smiled faintly. "It's just a pity I'm not very good."
"If you count as 'not good,' the rest of them might as well give up..."
Zhang Yunmi shook her head. "Teacher Liu just said my expressiveness isn't strong enough."
"That's too picky."
Zhang Yunmi smiled faintly. "I've somewhat fallen in love with being an idol. Even if my dancing isn't great."
Dongmen Chuiyu happened to walk by and, overhearing Lin Ziqi's words, said with a smile: "Little Zhang, you actually dance very well. Your stage presence is far stronger than the other girls'. Their expressiveness is limited by the times, after all—they can't compare with you! I've already arranged for the Commercial Officer Restaurant to deliver food shortly—won't let you go hungry. Rest a while. I'll go check on Teacher Liu's side." He walked toward the other end of the hall.
"Mn... Uncle Dongmen is really thorough. Good—no need to go back for dinner." Zhang Yunmi squeezed out a faint smile.
Lin Ziqi naturally understood the meaning behind those words. She didn't know what to say, only patted the slender shoulder of the girl beside her.
At that moment, a guard soldier walked into the rehearsal hall and exchanged a few words with several Senators. Wu Ciren's face changed. "I'll step out for a moment. Tell everyone not to disperse." He hurriedly followed the soldier out of the rehearsal hall.
They came to the Art Troupe office. A duty officer handed the receiver to this "Police Chief" who was so enthusiastic about the arts.
"This is Wu Ciren speaking—who is this? Director Wu Mu from the Political Security Bureau? Hold a moment!" Wu Ciren covered the receiver and waved to dismiss those around him. Once soldiers and employees had vacated the office, he spoke into the phone: "What can I do for you?"
After listening to Wu Mu's account, Wu Ciren's brow furrowed deep—especially at the final sentence: "Currently there is no evidence proving that Police Officer Zuo Yami has behaved in any way against the Senate, but we have arranged surveillance on her suspicious social contacts. Please attend to safety, maintain discipline, and cooperate with our work at the appropriate time."
He could make neither head nor tail of it.