Chapter 14

Upon hearing the butler’s response, Yu You’s expression shifted slightly.

Suddenly, he recalled a few days ago when Yu An had stood before him and said, “I will move out.”

He had thought it was just an angry outburst—how could Yu An possibly move out?

It wasn’t that he hadn’t noticed Yu An’s longing for their parents’ love—

Thinking this, a dull ache gripped Yu You’s head.

He rubbed his temples. When had he realized this? Why did he have no recollection at all?

Seeing this, Yu’s father asked, “What’s wrong?”

Yu Qing, quietly sipping his porridge, suddenly spoke up, “Dad, Second Brother has been working at the theater for several days now and hasn’t come back. He’s not answering his calls. I don’t know what’s going on. Could something have happened to him?”

Yu You looked toward Yu Qing, frowning.

As expected, upon hearing Yu Qing’s words, Yu’s father slammed the table and shouted, “Nonsense!”

Yu You set down his chopsticks. “Dad, calm down first. It’s not what you think…”

Hearing this, Yu’s father grew angrier, glaring at Yu You. “So you knew about Yu An working at the theater, too?”

He pointed his finger accusingly. “You all kept it from me?”

The butler bowed his head slightly.

Yu You’s headache worsened. “Dad, listen to me first. Yu An actually has a real talent for dance…”

Yu’s father was too upset to listen, only barking at the butler, “Call him right now and tell him to come back immediately!”

The butler nodded and turned to fetch his phone.

Yu Qing pretended to be afraid of their father’s anger, but his foot beneath the table was tapping impatiently.

He took a sip of porridge, then met Yu You’s expressionless gaze and suddenly stiffened.

Tentatively, Yu Qing called out, “Big Brother?”

Yu You did not respond this time, and Yu Qing’s face instantly drained of color.

—

Yu An had just gotten off the car when the butler called.

He hesitated, then answered.

The butler’s calm voice came through: “Second Young Master, Sir knows about your work at the theater. He hopes you’ll return soon.”

Yu An tightened his grip on the phone, took a deep breath, and said, “Butler, please tell him I’ve been busy lately. There’s training every day at the theater. I’ll come back when I have time.”

“Butler: Understood. Please wait a moment.”

Sweat began to bead on Yu An’s palm. He was somewhat aware of the situation, but when he heard Yu’s father’s words, “If you don’t come back now, don’t bother coming back at all!” he felt a suffocating pain in his chest, a dull ache following closely behind.

But this time, unlike in his dreams where he begged desperately, asking what he had done wrong, he responded calmly, “Alright.”

The call abruptly ended, clearly showing Yu’s father’s fury.

Gu Yuzhou, standing nearby, sensed something was wrong—or perhaps he vaguely heard Yu’s father’s enraged words through the receiver.

He frowned, and upon seeing Yu An’s forced calmness masking confusion in his eyes, a pang struck his heart.

“Yu An,” he called softly.

Only then did Yu An realize he had stopped moving after receiving the call. Gu Yuzhou also paused, waiting for him.

He spoke, “Sorry, Mr. Gu…”

But upon seeing Gu Yuzhou’s expression, he hesitated, then slowly said, “Once I get the acceptance letter, I won’t come back anymore.”

Once I get the letter, I’ll return their bank card too.

Gu Yuzhou’s brow furrowed deeply. “You’re doing great. Remember what I told you?”

—

Yu An nodded, his eyes slowly curving into a smile. “Mm, yes. I won’t wrong myself. I’ll work hard to learn!”

Under the sunlight, the boy bore his pain with a smile, as if stumbling forward in pursuit of the sun.

So brave.

Gu Yuzhou’s Adam’s apple bobbed. In the end, he said nothing, only reached out to ruffle Yu An’s hair.

They parted ways, and Yu An headed to the training hall.

This time he was slightly late; by the time he arrived, the others were already practicing.

Su Su didn’t ask why he was late but instead said, “We’ll be selecting the lead dancer soon. Prepare yourself.”

Yu An nodded. “Thank you, teacher. I’ll be on time next time.”

Su Su was momentarily surprised, then patted his shoulder. “No rush. It’s okay to be late occasionally.”

Yu An agreed, quickly changed into his dance attire, and joined the rehearsal.

The piece they were performing was called “The March Into Battle.” Unlike the traditional version, Teacher Su had incorporated sword dance elements, requiring them to master sword techniques, significantly raising the difficulty.

Previously, Yu An had learned Peking opera under Teacher Yu Ling. When playing roles symbolizing courage and strength, he had wielded weapons—knives, spears, swords, halberds—common props in Peking opera.

So Yu An was skilled with the sword, adept at many flourishes.

As for this dance, he had memorized every intricate step and formation, having practiced them repeatedly.

He went through the routine again until Teacher Su called out, “Stop, stop! Everyone, come over here.”

Yu An joined the others in forming a line and noticed two new people in the hall.

Su Su began the introductions: “This is our theater’s original choreographer for ‘The March Into Battle.’”

A teacher wearing an ancient-style white outfit stepped forward and bowed slightly.

“Hello, I’m Su Qingyin. You can just call me Teacher Su.”

Then Su Su added, “I didn’t want you to feel it was unfair, so I also invited a Chinese dance teacher. The three of us will vote to decide the lead dancer.”

Someone, clearly recognizing the new teacher, grew excited. “Isn’t this the teacher from the prestigious Media University?”

That teacher smiled. “Hello everyone, I’m Qin Zou. You can call me Teacher Qin.”

Everyone responded warmly, relieved. Authority guaranteed fairness.

The competition officially began.

Yu An and Song Zhao were at the back, watching intently. Everyone brought their best, eager to win the lead.

Securing that role would be a swift rise on the path of dance.

Song Zhao nervously tapped his foot and asked Yu An, “Are you nervous?”

Yu An shook his head. “Not really.”

Song Zhao hissed, “My heart feels like it’s about to jump out! So nervous! Teach me—how do you stay calm?”

Yu An glanced at him and whispered, “I’ve tried. No matter the outcome, I accept it. I just enjoy the process of dancing.”

Hearing this, Song Zhao’s heart gradually steadied.

After Song Zhao finished, it was Yu An’s turn.

Being last was somewhat disadvantageous, but since he was Teacher Yu Ling’s disciple, the teachers and others eagerly anticipated his performance.

The hall fell silent as music began.

Yu An stood center stage, arms swinging left, body leaning right, moving with the music’s ebb and flow like reeds swaying in the wind.

His movements were smooth and elegant, tinged with a heroic spirit, utterly unlike his usual self.

On stage, he effortlessly drew everyone’s gaze.

These eyes were not scrutinizing but filled with admiration.

As he leapt into the air, arms and legs extended in a perfect line, then softly landed, executing a sword dance movement.

The music stopped; the room fell silent, as if savoring the moment.

He was only in simple dancewear—imagine how stunning he’d look in full costume.

After some time, the three teachers stood and applauded.

Yu An bowed, catching his breath. “Thank you.”

Song Zhao rubbed the goosebumps on his arm and said to Yu An, “Now I finally understand why Teacher Yu Ling took you as her disciple when you were little.”

The others’ eyes shifted from envy to reverence.

A dancer’s essence lies in charisma, image, and technique. Many excel technically, but charisma and image are innate—and Yu An excelled in all three.

He was undoubtedly the lead.

Su Su quickly announced the result: “The three of us have unanimously decided—the lead for ‘The March Into Battle’ is Yu An!”

Everyone accepted the verdict wholeheartedly.

The morning passed quickly. After lunch, the others began choosing the remaining dancers, while Yu An was taken by Teachers Su Qingyin and Qin Zou to another rehearsal hall.

During their conversation, their fondness for Yu An grew, along with regret.

Regret they hadn’t met him sooner—otherwise, they could have secured him as a disciple before Yu Ling.

At five in the afternoon, the theater closed on time.

Yu An left with the others.

Song Zhao asked, “Are you not staying to practice more at the theater?”

Yu An nodded. “I’ll practice at home.”

Song Zhao nodded, mounting his bicycle. “Then I’ll head off. See you tomorrow.”

Yu An replied, “Mm, see you tomorrow.”

Someone spoke up, “Yu An, how are you getting home? My dad’s here to pick me up. Why don’t you come with me? I can ask him to give you a ride.”

Yu An glanced at the theater entrance, suddenly remembering that by leaving on time, he couldn’t catch a ride with the theater group.

He shook his head. “Thanks, but no need to trouble him.”

The other person didn’t insist. “Alright then, I’m off.”

Yu An waved as he watched the person get into a white car parked by the theater entrance.

The white car lingered for a moment before driving off.

Through the open window, Yu An could see the man and woman chatting and laughing with the other person inside. The woman gently wiped sweat from the man’s brow, and the man handed over a cup of water…

In a daze, Yu An recalled when he was four, his mother had noticed his interest in opera and, together with his father, personally escorted him to the theater every day—right here at this very entrance.

They had cared whether he was hot or cold, asked what he learned at the theater, and if he was mistreated…

Afterward, he never experienced what it felt like to be picked up by his parents again.

During those first few years, he had still hoped. But as disappointment accumulated, he stopped hoping altogether.

When he snapped out of his thoughts, the white car had already driven away.

The light dimmed gradually. Yu An opened his phone’s navigation to search for the nearest subway station.

Suddenly, two bright yellow headlights flashed from a black car on the road, illuminating the theater entrance.

Startled, Yu An watched as the car door opened, and someone stepped out, calling, “Yu An.”

It was Gu Yuzhou.

Yu An’s eyes curved into a smile as he ran toward the man. “I’m here!”