Chapter 23
His grandmother’s surgery was a success.
Now it was just a matter of recovery and waiting for her discharge.
Lu Xuefeng remembered the surgery was scheduled for the afternoon. Song Muqing hadn’t gone to work that day, waiting with him in the corridor outside the operating room.
His parents had also arrived shortly after.
Lu Xuefeng hadn’t expected Mu Ting and Song Hongfan to come.
Mu Ting said they naturally wanted to be there for the good news, to put their minds at ease.
His grandmother was incredibly important to Lu Xuefeng, and now that he was part of their family, she was family to them too.
There was no reason for them not to be there for such a major surgery.
Lu Xuefeng felt a surge of warmth.
They sat in the waiting area, anxious and restless.
Song Muqing sat beside him, holding his hand, and noticed his palms were sweating.
He put his arm around Lu Xuefeng’s shoulders, offering quiet reassurance. “Everything will be alright. Trust the doctor.”
Lu Xuefeng knew that since Dr. Xun was confident, there shouldn’t be any problems.
But he couldn’t help but worry.
Mu Ting and Song Hongfan also offered words of comfort, then chatted about everyday matters, mentioning Ollie, to distract Lu Xuefeng and ease his tension.
The hospital corridor was cold in the winter.
But surrounded by them, Lu Xuefeng didn’t feel the chill.
Finally, the doctor emerged, reporting the successful outcome.
Lu Xuefeng felt a wave of relief.
There were many post-operative precautions, which Lu Xuefeng carefully noted, relaying them to Sister Xu later.
Recovery was an important stage, requiring daily check-ups.
But their moods were lighter now, knowing his grandmother would recover.
Mu Ting also visited the hospital whenever she had time to care for his grandmother.
She was always thoughtful and kind, much like Song Muqing, so she got along well with Deng Yuzhen.
His grandmother enjoyed her company and her gentle voice, which had a calming quality.
Her slow, measured speech had a certain elegance.
Lu Xuefeng later realized it was an air of scholarly refinement.
Mu Ting was well-read and had worked in the publishing industry for many years. Even with age, her refined demeanor was evident.
She was completely different from the mother he remembered.
Lu Xuefeng mentioned this to Song Muqing.
Song Muqing asked, “Different how?”
“She’s very gentle,” Lu Xuefeng gave an example. “Like if you made a mistake, she wouldn’t criticize you, but patiently explain the right way to do things.”
Song Muqing raised an eyebrow.
“That’s true.”
That was the environment he had grown up in.
His father, Song Hongfan, although stricter, was always reasonable.
Lu Xuefeng lay on the sofa, covering his face with a book, his voice muffled. “I’m a little envious of you.”
He was just a little envious.
Lu Xuefeng had never experienced such a warm and supportive family atmosphere.
His earliest memories, before living with his grandmother, were of constant arguments and cold silences at home.
Eating cold meals, looking up at the night sky from his small room, he had wondered if anyone lived such happy lives.
He had assumed all families were the same.
Because he had often heard adults say, “Everyone goes through this. Just endure it.”
But it wasn’t true.
Song Muqing took the book off his face, sitting on the edge of the sofa, looking at him intently.
He couldn’t change Lu Xuefeng’s past, but there would be a new beginning.
Song Muqing said, “As family, what I have, you’ll have too.”
They would share the same family environment.
His parents would treat Lu Xuefeng as their own son.
And Song Muqing would always cherish him, making him happy.
The past wouldn’t repeat itself.
Lu Xuefeng looked at him, a smile in his eyes.
Song Muqing found him beautiful and couldn’t resist gently caressing his eyes.
Lu Xuefeng blinked.
“Grandma is being discharged tomorrow. I’ll pick you up from the theater in the afternoon.”
“Okay.”
There had been a problem during the troupe’s rehearsal.
Jin Hong had immediately stopped them, demanding an explanation.
One of the male dancers hadn’t executed a lift properly, either due to lack of strength or something else, but he had cleverly improvised, smoothly transitioning into another move, making it seem seamless to an untrained eye.
But such shortcuts weren’t acceptable on a professional stage.
It was a breach of professional ethics.
Jin Hong was furious and scolded him.
The male dancer, Zhong Ce, was probably nervous, being young and performing in such an important production for the first time.
Jin Hong had already reprimanded him, so Lu Xuefeng didn’t need to repeat it.
The lift was indeed difficult, and if not executed properly, it could lead to an accident.
So, Zhong Ce’s improvisation was understandable.
Ultimately, it was a matter of coordination.
That afternoon, Lu Xuefeng took Zhong Ce and his partner, Xiao Yue, aside for some individual coaching.
They went through the basic movements.
The same issues persisted.
Lu Xuefeng had reminded them before, but they hadn’t corrected them.
This was their first time partnering, and Lu Xuefeng thought they simply hadn’t developed a good rapport yet, unfamiliar with each other’s habits and lacking trust.
It wasn’t a matter of understanding the characters, but of coordination.
In dance, whether two dancers had good chemistry, whether they fully trusted each other, was immediately apparent.
Their performance felt restrained and awkward.
Lu Xuefeng first addressed the problematic lift, finding a more harmonious approach, then addressed their coordination issues.
It was important, so his tone was serious. Finally, he said, “If you can’t trust each other, I’ll replace you.”
He wasn’t joking.
Many dancers wanted to perform in his productions, and replacing someone who didn’t meet his standards was normal.
The two dancers were flustered, promising to practice harder.
Lu Xuefeng coached them, offering encouragement, telling them not to be nervous. Their performance improved with his guidance.
With Lu Xuefeng there, they didn’t have to worry about making mistakes.
Corrections were made immediately.
“Remember to focus your strength on your core, and there’s a pause in the middle…”
Lu Xuefeng’s phone rang mid-sentence.
He finished his instructions, telling them to practice on their own, then answered Song Muqing’s call.
Song Muqing was done with his work at the university and had arrived at the theater.
Lu Xuefeng couldn’t leave immediately; he needed to guide the two dancers further.
“You might have to wait for me. I’ll send my assistant to pick you up; she knows you.”
“Okay,” Song Muqing agreed, telling him to focus on his work.
After ending the call, Lu Xuefeng messaged Lan Xin, asking her to meet Song Muqing at the entrance.
Lan Xin was happy to oblige and rushed over.
She didn’t have to wait long before seeing Song Muqing.
He was even more handsome in person than she remembered.
She walked over, introducing herself. “Mr. Song, I’m Director Lu’s assistant, Lan Xin.”
“Hello.”
Lan Xin led him inside.
Apart from attending performances, Song Muqing had never been to the theater before.
The Tingnan Theater was large, with glass walls, the afternoon sun streaming in, making it feel even more spacious.
There were no performances today, so it was quiet, and several theater doors were closed.
“Director Lu is still busy. Shall I take you directly to him, or give you a quick tour?”
Lan Xin offered him a choice.
Song Muqing didn’t hesitate. “Take me to him, please. Thank you.”
“It’s no trouble at all,” Lan Xin smiled. She was happy to do it.
As they walked, she discreetly observed Song Muqing, thinking that he and Director Lu were indeed well-matched.
The rehearsal room had a large glass window, allowing a clear view inside.
Song Muqing immediately spotted Lu Xuefeng, coaching the two dancers meticulously.
The door wasn’t completely closed. Lan Xin opened it quietly, letting Song Muqing in.
She was about to announce his arrival, but Song Muqing shook his head, not wanting to interrupt Lu Xuefeng.
Lan Xin remained silent, waiting with him for a few minutes before being called away by Jin Hong.
Song Muqing leaned against the doorframe, watching Lu Xuefeng patiently explaining the movements and the emotions they were meant to convey.
“Dance is your language, expressing everything.”
“Your eyes, your gaze must be expressive. The glances, the connection, must convey emotion, otherwise, the audience won’t feel it.”
“Xiao Yue, your leg movement is too fast. Pay attention to the rhythm.”
“…”
Lu Xuefeng’s observations were meticulous, pointing out every flaw and having them repeat the movements.
He was patient; it was a process that couldn’t be rushed.
For movements they didn’t quite grasp, Lu Xuefeng would demonstrate.
The heater was on high, making the room slightly stuffy.
Lu Xuefeng was wearing a thick, smoke-gray cashmere sweater, a fitted style that accentuated his slender waist and long neck.
Like a graceful black swan.
He had always been slender, the outline of his shoulder blades faintly visible.
Song Muqing hadn’t taken his eyes off him since he arrived.
As Lu Xuefeng finished his instructions and turned around, he noticed Song Muqing standing by the door.
Song Muqing smiled at him, mouthing silently, “Take your time.”
Lu Xuefeng nodded. The detailed coaching was done. He had Zhong Ce and Xiao Yue run through the sequence.
After watching them, he said, “That’s much better. Keep practicing on your own. If you have any difficulties, come find me, or the rehearsal instructor, or any of the senior dancers. Just make sure you resolve them.”
“Understood, Director Lu.”
Lu Xuefeng added, “Communication is important. If either of you feels something isn’t working, speak up, and adjust together.”
“Thank you, Director Lu!”
They were excited, having finally met his expectations, their coordination improving significantly.
Not many dancers had the opportunity for such individual coaching from Lu Xuefeng.
They had learned a great deal and were eager to continue practicing.
Lu Xuefeng glanced at the time; they had been practicing for quite a while. “Go and have lunch now, replenish your energy.”
They were indeed hungry and agreed.
Xiao Yue left first, glancing back at the man by the door before she exited.
Zhong Ce went to retrieve his coat, and Lu Xuefeng walked over to him. “Have some confidence in yourself. You’re quite talented.”
As a newcomer, surrounded by experienced dancers, it was easy to feel insecure.
But Lu Xuefeng knew he had potential, otherwise, he wouldn’t have been chosen.
Zhong Ce looked at him, his grip on his coat tightening slightly.
“Thank you, Director Lu.”
After he left, only Song Muqing and Lu Xuefeng remained in the rehearsal room.
Song Muqing stood there, and Lu Xuefeng walked towards him.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Lu Xuefeng felt apologetic. “You should have told me you were here. I would have gotten you a chair.”
“It’s fine. Watching you work is quite interesting.”
“What’s so interesting about it?”
Lu Xuefeng didn’t understand.
Song Muqing smiled, not explaining, but taking his hand and pulling him closer.
As they stood close together, Song Muqing noticed a faint fragrance.
“Did you put on perfume?”
“I dabbed on a little this morning.”
Song Muqing had seen Lu Xuefeng use perfume before, applying it to his wrists and neck.
He lowered his head, his breath warm against Lu Xuefeng’s neck.
Lu Xuefeng felt a tickle and instinctively leaned away.
Song Muqing’s hand tightened around his waist, pulling him closer.
His nose brushed against Lu Xuefeng’s skin.
The scent of cedarwood filled his senses, a fitting fragrance for winter.
He met Lu Xuefeng’s gaze. “It smells good.”
But the look in his eyes suggested he wasn’t just talking about the perfume.
Lu Xuefeng raised an eyebrow. “The perfume?”
His tone was casual, but his gaze was slightly alluring.
Song Muqing willingly took the bait.
“Not just the perfume,” his voice was low, a hint of intimacy in his tone.
They stood close, gazing at each other silently.
Lu Xuefeng couldn’t resist his gaze, nor could he escape it.
They were both caught in a web of unspoken desire.
The atmosphere was perfect for a kiss.
