Luo Xiaoqian had always been one to rise to a challenge—admitting defeat wasn’t in her nature.
"Don’t even think about it, I’m not admitting I’m wrong!"
She yanked his hand away and, throwing it aside, continued to dance.
Stretching her arms, arching her back, spinning...
With each movement, she tried her hardest to perform at her best.
Who said she didn’t deserve to be the queen of the stage? She could do it, she definitely could!
Leng Zimo followed by her side, expressionless, as the wooden ruler in his hand occasionally fell, striking her body, legs, and waist.
"Lift your legs higher...extend your wrists flat...keep your back straight...I didn’t tell you to bend..."
He was really putting force into each strike, each one a piercing pain.
She clenched her teeth, enduring the pain, enduring his venomous curses, and danced over and over again, until she was drenched in sweat, with stray hairs sticking to her forehead, and when she spun for the last time, she fell.
"I think we’d better just take a bath and go to sleep!"
He walked over, looking down at her as if she were a dirty rag.
Luo Xiaoqian was frantic.
She gritted her teeth, got up again, and started from the beginning.
...
As she danced, the number of times Leng Zimo’s ruler struck her gradually lessened.
During the final spin, she executed it particularly cleanly; after two revolutions, she struck a beautiful pose.
In the mirror, her figure was graceful, thighs spread like wings, chin slightly lifted—so beautiful, so proud.
Seeing herself in the mirror, Luo Xiaoqian gained a bit more confidence.
"I did it!"
"It’s merely that there were no mistakes!"


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