Chapter Forty-Three: Liu Xiaoli: What Do You Call a Pleasant Surprise?

The stage lights were soft as moonlight, turning the stage into a tranquil lake. A group of young girls in white ballet costumes stood in perfect alignment, motionless and silent.

Liu Xiaoli stood among them, wearing a form-fitting leotard. Pure white tights accentuated the elegant, slender lines of her legs. The overhead lights poured down like water onto her beautiful face; the bridge of her nose caught the radiance, casting a delicate shadow that deepened the luster of her bright, autumn-clear eyes.

"Music! Begin!"

At the cue from the rehearsal instructor below the stage, the orchestra, piano, and percussion burst into a rhythmic, vibrant swell.

As the first note resonated, Liu Xiaoli slowly raised her arms. Her fingertips brushed the air as if she were a swan grooming its feathers. With graceful, light steps, she glided across the stage, every movement flowing with unparalleled harmony and softness.

The music grew more impassioned, and the girl’s movements quickened in response. Her slender, graceful frame began to spin, circle after circle, like ripples spreading across a lake. Her arms traced elegant arcs in the air, mimicking the wings of a swan preparing for flight.

As the music reached its crescendo, she performed the iconic "The Dying Swan." She leaned forward, one foot lightly touching the stage while the other extended gracefully behind her, her body forming a perfect, taut arc. Her expression was filled with sorrow and reluctance, as if she were bidding a final farewell to life itself.

As the music slowly faded, her movements decelerated. She lowered her arms and stood upright, like a swan drifting quietly upon the water. Finally, she stood still in the center of the stage, a noble creature guarding the silence of the lake under the moonlight. The dance was a perfect marriage of strength and grace; every gesture felt like a forest sprite from *Swan Lake*, elegant and brimming with vitality.

The instructor, Jiang Ling, was deeply captivated by the flawless performance. For a moment, she truly felt as if she were witnessing a swan dancing in the moonlight.

As the music ended, the girls hopped off the stage like dumplings being dropped into a pot.

"Teacher Jiang, how was it? Was it great? You wouldn't believe it, but I almost twisted my ankle up there!"

Wang Danping, the youngest of the group at seventeen and petite in stature, rushed over and threw herself into Jiang Ling’s arms, speaking in a spoiled, playful tone.

Jiang Ling had been their dance instructor since they enrolled in 1970. She had spent nearly a decade with them, watching these girls grow from ten-year-olds into stunning young women. Because the class was small, with fewer than thirty students, Jiang Ling treated them like her own daughters, caring for them deeply in both their careers and their daily lives.

"Yes, yes, yes! You all danced beautifully! Next month’s performance will surely be a sensation! You silly girl, you’re getting so big, yet you’re still so clingy!"

Jiang Ling caught the pouncing Wang Danping, offering praise to the group before playfully and helplessly pinching the girl’s cheek.

"Hehe!" Wang Danping scratched her head, embarrassed.

"Giggle! She’s right, Danping is just like a little kid!"

"A brat who never grows up!"

The girls burst into laughter.

Liu Xiaoli stood among them, smiling as well. Having just finished the dance, a fine sheen of sweat covered her porcelain-white face, and her cheeks were flushed a soft pink from the exertion, adding a touch of charming vulnerability to her refined, gentle air. Tiny beads of sweat rolled down her cheeks like water on fine jade, eventually dripping from the delicate point of her chin.

Liu Xiaoli instinctively raised her arm to wipe her brow. She and her sisters had been rehearsing *Swan Lake* for over half a month, and they were progressing rapidly. However, this performance was different from previous ones; Liu Xiaoli and her peers were still newcomers, having only joined the troupe a few years prior. They were currently ranked as junior or secondary performers. To become a soloist in the theater, one needed at least ten years of tempering.

Usually, they were only allowed on stage for minor performances. Significant public events, charity shows, or holiday tributes were rarely assigned to them. This major pre-Spring Festival performance, which city officials would attend, was their chance to step into the spotlight, so everyone was working extra hard, terrified of making a mistake.

"Alright, alright, go change your clothes. Look at you all, drenched in sweat!" Teacher Jiang waved her hand, urging them to hurry to the dressing room.

The group returned to the changing area. Liu Xiaoli stood before her locker, retrieved her casual clothes, and gently unfastened the ties of her leotard. She stepped out of the garment, revealing her jade-white skin.

"It’s so cold! Why isn’t the heating on in the dressing room?" The chilly air hit her, and she couldn't help but shiver.

"What are you thinking? Heating? You think this is the North?"

Wang Danping and her roommate, Zhang Yi, crowded around Liu Xiaoli, their hands wandering playfully.

"Wow! Xiaoli, your skin is so white and smooth."

"Even *that* part is bigger than ours! Let me touch!"

"Get off me!"

Feeling their mischievous hands, Liu Xiaoli’s face flushed a deep red. She let out a soft exclamation of protest and quickly covered herself to put on her clothes.

A moment later, another roommate, Xiao Caiyun, jogged in holding a letter. "Xiaoli, you’ve got a letter!"

Liu Xiaoli’s heart skipped a beat. She remembered writing to Cheng Kaiyan last week; the timing was about right. She took it from Xiao Caiyun and looked down. It was indeed a letter from Cheng Kaiyan.

"Is it from your aunt? She took us out for a big meal when she visited during National Day," Wang Danping asked, wrapping her arm around Liu Xiaoli’s waist and resting her chin on her shoulder.

None of the girls in the dorm were locals, so they relied on letters to stay in touch with their families. However, none of them wrote as frequently as Liu Xiaoli; once a week was quite often, and the postage added up, so some were reluctant to write so often.

"Huh? It’s not from my aunt. Why is it from someone named Cheng Kaiyan?" Wang Danping asked, looking curiously at the sender’s name and address on the envelope.

"Giggle! Could it be a little sweetheart?" Xiao Caiyun, a curvy girl, had already spotted the name before delivering the letter and teased her.

"Exactly!"

Liu Xiaoli blushed as her friends teased her and quickly tucked Cheng Kaiyan’s letter away. "Little sweetheart" was too blunt! Although she and "Comrade Cheng" had been betrothed by their families, they weren't very familiar with each other. They had reached a tacit understanding that the coming year would be a time to build their relationship.

So, by that logic, were they "courting"? Not quite, she thought. They hadn't even met in person; she only had a photo of him from when he was fifteen or sixteen. At most, they were friends or like siblings.

Liu Xiaoli pursed her lips and said, "He’s the younger brother of a family friend! Don't talk nonsense!"

"Oh, a 'younger brother'."

"Fine, fine, if you say so."

After dinner, they returned to the dormitory. Once she had finished washing up, Liu Xiaoli sat at her desk, impatient to open the envelope.

"To see this letter is to see me smile, Sister Xiaoli..."

The letter was short, only one page. Liu Xiaoli read it with great care. He mentioned his daily life—working as a teaching assistant at Beijing Normal University, reading books, and writing articles. The content was humble and earnest, revealing much about his character.

Liu Xiaoli knew that Cheng Kaiyan had secured the teaching assistant position through her aunt, Jiang Ting, who had written to her about it immediately. In her letter last week, Liu Xiaoli had encouraged him not to feel inferior because of his lack of a degree or his temporary status, urging him to work hard and keep writing.

When she reached the end, her face fell. "Where’s the photo? I sent him mine!" She shook the envelope and squinted inside, but there was no photo. Her eyebrows arched in frustration. "What a wretched guy!"

*Slap!*

Liu Xiaoli slammed the letter onto the desk, only to notice a line of text written on the back of the page.

"A surprise? I’d like to see what kind of surprise you’ve prepared!!"