"That depends on the person," Yao Yunying said. Despite the scolding, her face was bright with joy. She was eager to share the news of her solo dance with friends and family, hoping they would come cheer her on at the preliminaries.
’This might be the only solo dance of her life—an opportunity she couldn’t afford to miss!’
She laughed and said, "Master Yuan is sweet on the outside and bitter on the inside, and Su Zhenren is a cold teaching machine. Our Little Xia, on the other hand, is a paper tiger with a sharp tongue but a soft heart. So we have to appreciate her painstaking efforts in training us."
"This might be our only chance for a comeback, comrades! Do you want to keep being seen as hopeless cases?"
Everyone shook their heads hard. They wanted to be elegant dancers, basking in the glow of the stage lights!
"So, this time, we need to have the do-or-die determination to give it our all! It’s just like what Little Xia said over the loudspeaker before: ’Take a gamble, and a bicycle can become a motorcycle...’"
With half an hour left before the end of the workday, Xia Zhaoyun sat down at the piano and began to pick out notes, filling in the score. As a dancer, she had a natural sensitivity to music. She tried using the seven simple notes of the scale—do, re, mi, fa, sol, la, ti—to recreate the atmosphere of each work position.
She imbued specific scenarios within each work position with subtly different emotions: cheerfulness, joy, contentment, pleasure, passion, and more.
Much like writing an essay, she reveled in how different combinations of those seven simple notes could collide and combine to portray the bustling, celebratory spectacle of an awards ceremony.
When He Qingran came looking for her after work, she found Xia Zhaoyun completely absorbed in composing. Without a word, she turned and went to fetch her a meal.
"Eat first. Give your brain a rest and try a different approach. You might get better results..."
Xia Zhaoyun looked up, dazed. The moment she smelled the fragrant food, her stomach started rumbling.
"On my way here, I heard some gossip. They were saying you couldn’t even get a spot in Group One or Two, let alone be the lead dancer, and that Su Zhenren exiled you to Group Three?"
"And that the bunch of slackers in Group Three staged a walkout to humiliate you and just left early?"
He Qingran asked cautiously, chewing on the end of her chopsticks.
Xia Zhaoyun nearly choked. After a couple of coughs, she said with a laugh, "Qingran, do I really seem that pathetic? Hated by everyone?"
"One of the aunties even did the math for me. She said that while the canteen food is cheap and the factory provides subsidies, many families have their own vegetable plots. They could be eating vegetables for free!"
"They can trade the meal tickets they save for grain, oil, meat, and other non-staple food tickets."
"The thing is, our canteen chef is pretty decent, so families who aren’t great cooks just eat there three times a day. They sell the vegetables from their plots to the canteen, but in the end, their total expenses are easily double what they would be if they just cooked for themselves!"
Xia Zhaoyun nodded with a smile. "Exactly. And when you cook for yourself, you have more variety, you can be flexible with your meat and vegetable pairings, and you don’t have to panic when guests drop by. The meals you make are delicious, look appealing, and cost less. It’s impressive and economical."
"Yes, yes, exactly!" He Qingran agreed emphatically.
"Once I finish composing this music, I’ll write out a whole recipe book for you. It’ll include all sorts of pastries, snacks, meat dishes, and vegetable dishes. You can share a new batch every few days," Xia Zhaoyun said, her lips curving into a smile.
He Qingran was so grateful she was at a loss for words.
"It’s no trouble at all. If it can improve the lives of the workers’ families and bring us some joy in the process, that’s wonderful. And you’re not the one who needs to thank me," Xia Zhaoyun said, patting her on the shoulder before she went back to her meal.

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