The Stunningly Beautiful and Delicate Darling in the 1980s Military Compound - Chapter 50

Song Mingyue had been waiting for this competition for many days. After an early lunch, she, Zhang Jingjing, Pei Xiaoyu, and Zhao Xing hauled the watermelon cart toward the Workers’ Cultural Palace.

Despite her complaints, Zhao Xing helped push the cart while carrying her performance attire. It was still early, so the area outside wasn’t crowded, but the backstage area was already buzzing with activity. This was a major event; Mocheng Daily had been promoting it for two weeks, and tickets had been sold to the public and distributed to government units.

At the entrance, Mingyue surveyed the area and set up a crude stall using a few wooden boards. They displayed a few sliced samples as models; if customers were picky, they would cut fresh ones on the spot.

Jingjing and Xiaoyu stayed to man the stall, urging Mingyue to head backstage with her recommendation letter. “Don’t worry, Mingyue! Leave the stall to us. We remember everything you told us. You just focus on your performance—win this for me and Sister Xiumei!” Jingjing said, still remembering the gossip from the other compound wives.

“I’m going in then. If anything happens, tell the security guard to call for me,” Mingyue instructed. Oddly, she felt more at ease leaving things to the young Xiaoyu than the hot-tempered Jingjing. Today was the first shot for their business venture, and Mingyue was understandably anxious.

Backstage, Zhao Xing’s mood darkened as she looked for Wang Mo. She knew that once this performance ended, she might have to say goodbye to him forever. Only Mingyue’s earlier encouragement—this might be your only chance to dance with him on stage—kept her going.

“Zhao Xing, wait for me!” Mingyue called out, following her.

“Hey! It’s you! Are you here for the competition too?” a young man’s voice called out.

Mingyue turned to see a youth in his early twenties. He looked familiar, but she couldn’t place him immediately.

“Cheng Er! I’m Cheng Er! I’m the one who escorted you to the Art Troupe last time,” he introduced himself eagerly. Mingyue remembered him now—the reckless young man who had confessed his feelings the very first time he saw her.

Zhao Xing, spotting the “drama,” circled back with a mischievous grin. Cheng Er continued, “Are you performing? I’m the host today. Talk about fate!”

Mingyue brushed him off politely and hurried inside. Zhao Xing, however, was impressed. “He’s actually the host? Not bad.” She couldn’t help but think that if it weren’t for Commander Chen, this guy might have been a decent match. Then she shook her head—No, no, I can’t have such scandalous thoughts!

Wang Mo was sitting alone in a corner. Even after weeks of practice, he and Mingyue remained formal and distant; his coldness was a barrier few could cross.

There were 36 acts in total. Zhao Xing suggested Wang Mo draw their slot, but he declined. “You go. My luck is terrible; I’m not suited for draws.” The statement made Zhao Xing’s heart ache.

Mingyue ended up drawing for the group and landed the eighth slot—perfectly positioned to catch the audience while they were still fresh.

The trio prepared. Zhao Xing and Wang Mo wore elegant waltz costumes, while Mingyue wore a Western-style white dress to match the theme. Most other performers wore revolutionary uniforms or simple red dresses to sing “red songs.” Their group stood out like a sore thumb—which carried the risk of not being accepted by the traditionalist audience.

The competition began with the usual flamboyant, 1980s-style hosting. Cheng Er was quite popular, drawing applause every time he spoke.

The first few acts were similar in tone and rhythm. By the seventh song, the audience was beginning to get drowsy. Then, Cheng Er announced: “Our next act, from the X Military Compound, performing Tales from the Vienna Woods.”

The audience perked up. No one knew what kind of song that was.

The stage went dark. When the lights came up, two beams cut through the gloom: one on Song Mingyue at the piano, and one on Zhao Xing and Wang Mo.

Mingyue began to play a Soviet-era piano the Cultural Palace had borrowed. The audience fell into a hushed silence as the elegant notes filled the hall. Mingyue closed her eyes, her fingers dancing across the keys with the grace of a true artist.

As she opened her eyes for a brief glance at the audience, her heart skipped a beat. At the very back of the hall, amidst the sea of people, a man in a military uniform stood tall. In his hand, he held a lit candle.

The rhythm of her playing remained steady, but her heart soared. The back row was too far for her to see his face clearly, but the candle told her everything.

Back in S County, she had told Chen Che: “Next time, if I can’t find you, just hold up a candle. I’ll see the light and know it’s you. That way, we’ll never get lost.”

He had remembered.

As the song ended, thunderous applause erupted. The house lights came up, confirming her suspicion—it was indeed Chen Che.

Mingyue beamed. She led Zhao Xing and Wang Mo to center stage and bowed deeply. “Thank you for your support. This song is the Vienna Woods Waltz, a celebration of joy. We hope it makes your day a little brighter.”

The fact that she addressed the audience directly—something none of the previous acts had done—drew even louder cheers. She looked toward Chen Che again. Even from a distance, she could feel the warmth and pride in his gaze.

The judges handed the scores to Cheng Er. He smiled as he looked at the paper. “Actually, the pianist is a friend I admire greatly. I’m glad to see them get such a score.”

He announced the result: First Place so far.

Zhao Xing was ecstatic, hugging Mingyue and then impulsively hugging Wang Mo. Realizing her “impropriety,” she blushed and turned to Mingyue for backup. “I didn’t mean anything by it, I was just happy! Mingyue, back me up here…”

But Mingyue was already gone. Zhao Xing assumed she had gone to check on the watermelon stall, but Mingyue had actually slipped quietly into the audience to find her husband.