He just stood there, his stature notably tall among the dancers, yet he towered over the professors.
His exquisite, jade-like face had slightly tilted, thin crimson lips, which looked roguish but captivating.
Moreover, he audaciously had a slender cigarette in his mouth. The graceful, blue smoke twirled around his thin lips, seemingly reluctant to leave.
His peach-blossom eyes slightly drooped, appearing to listen intently to whatever the professors were saying.
The professors, one by one, were as excited as if they had been injected with chicken blood, almost breaking into tears of joy.
Di Jinxuan truly didn’t know that—even with a ten-year hiatus—Nangong Jin could hold such a prestigious position in the dance world.
She didn’t know because she had not been part of his glorious past.
He was acclaimed as a prodigy at fourteen, and so far, he was the only one to achieve this at that age.
Thus, despite the professors being much older than him, they still treated him with great respect.
In dance, those who excel command respect, and whoever dances well is king of the world. No wonder these people admired him.
Even she, having seen just a casual dance of his, was extremely impressed and astonished.
For a moment, Di Jinxuan just stood there foolishly, not knowing whether to step forward or what to do, simply standing silently and watching him from afar.
She saw him listening intently; the smile on his lips seemed amiable, though not the frivolous, heartless yet extremely enticing smile he usually showed her.
He didn’t talk much, just quietly listened, and after the professors seemed to have finished, he extended his long fingers to clutch the cigarette and exhaled a ring of smoke, lightly nodded with a smile, and his thin crimson lips gently moved—he said a few simple words, definitely not many.

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