Chapter 22

When Du Ruo lugged all the gyroscopes, sound/light/heat sensors, tilt sensors, and acceleration sensors she’d made into the office, Professor Yang Changqing was genuinely surprised:
"You made all of these yourself?"
"Yep, all by hand."
"Not bad at all."
"Professor, please just let me join the lab, even if it’s just doing grunt work for the senior students. Doing everything on my own, I keep running into pointless obstacles."
Yang Changqing didn’t answer directly. Instead, he asked, "Do you actually like this field?"
"I do." She nodded emphatically.
"And what is it that you like? I remember at the start of the year, you said you barely knew anything about it."
A smile crept onto her lips as she replied, "Working with machines feels honest. You give exactly what you get, nothing more, nothing less. Luck isn’t a factor. They never let you down. It’s almost like they’re alive; as long as you take every step seriously, in the end, they’ll always answer you."
As she spoke, she reached out and brushed her fingertips over a heat sensor on the table. The second she touched it, its little light flickered on.
Yang Changqing grinned. "Alright, you’re in."
Du Ruo was overjoyed. "Thank you, professor!"
And so, she became the only girl regularly dashing between the labs and workshops with the senior guys, learning to work with drills and lathes, naturally, getting a lot of help from the upperclassmen.
The days flew by, and before she knew it, a new year had arrived.
On New Year’s Day, Beijing saw its first snowfall.
Du Ruo and He Huanhuan, two Southern girls, had never seen real snow before. They shrieked and bounced around the campus, nearly flinging themselves headfirst into the drifts.
Xia Nan and Qiu Yuchen both gave massive, synchronized eye rolls. "Yeah, yeah, it’s snow, white, fluffy snow. You’d think gold was falling out of the sky or something."
"Roll your eyes like that again, I dare you." Du Ruo scooped up a handful of snow and hurled it at Xia Nan’s head.
"You little menace!" Xia Nan’s composure shattered. He balled up some snow and fired back.
The four of them dissolved into a chaotic snowball fight, shrieking with laughter in the freezing air.
Du Ruo lobbed another snowball, and Qiu Yuchen dodged, right as it landed smack on a passing guy.
It was Li Qinghe.
"Ah! Sorry, senior!" She rushed over to apologize.
"Don’t sweat it." Brushing snow off his coat, Li Qinghe grinned. "You’re from the South, right? Totally understandable."
Du Ruo: "…"
Qiu Yuchen piped up, putting on fake gravitas: "That’s right, senior, our little country bumpkin here isn’t used to city life. Hope you weren’t too scandalized."
Li Qinghe burst out laughing.
Du Ruo threw a look over her shoulder. "I’m going to kill you."
Qiu Yuchen stuck out her tongue and slunk away, mischief accomplished.
Li Qinghe smiled at Du Ruo, saying, "Actually, I was hoping to run into you."
"What’s up?"
"Here, these are recordings of your first few debates with the society."
She was mortified. "Wait! You filmed those?!"
"Just helping you pinpoint the rough spots, makes improvement quicker."
"Thanks. Oh, right, those debate books you lent me? I finished them. I’ll bring them back to you soon."
"No rush."
With his mission accomplished, Li Qinghe headed off to handle other business.
Du Ruo watched him leave, only to turn and catch three girls grinning at her like gossip-hungry hyenas.
He Huanhuan: "Suspicious."
Qiu Yuchen: "Something’s brewing here."
Xia Nan: "Definitely fishy… and romantic."
Du Ruo: "..."
She wasn’t thinking anything of the sort, so just said, "He’s talented, smart, and good-looking. Why would someone like that ever notice me?"
He Huanhuan objected, "Why not? You’re pretty too!"
Du Ruo nearly choked. "You need your eyes checked if you think I’m pretty."
Qiu Yuchen chimed in, "Seriously, you look a lot better than when you first started school. Happier, brighter, your skin’s way fairer too, all glowy and fresh."
Xia Nan drawled, "Your style’s even improved. Remember those questionable fashion choices back at orientation…?"
"…" Du Ruo deadpanned, "Is this meant to be a compliment, or are you roasting me over here?"
Either way, praise or roast, she didn’t really mind anymore.
If she had to pinpoint what had changed between then and now, maybe it was this: She’d learned to care for her appearance, but not to become obsessed with others’ opinions; to enrich herself, but not scramble after people or feel inferior for no reason.
Step by step, she moved forward, steady, cheerful, efficient. She broadened her horizons, made new friends, explored new places, read more, learned more.
As her world expanded, her courage grew. Things she’d once thought were forever impossible? She started trying them out.
Like, say, dancing at the freshman ball.
Their college had a tradition: the first Sunday after the New Year meant a freshman-only dance. Each class had to prep a dance number.
Du Ruo’s class only had her as the lone girl, a solo dance was out, so the boys handled the performance.
She was happily off the hook until He Huanhuan came looking for help. Their class was putting on a partner dance, four guys, four girls, but she was short one girl. Could Du Ruo step in?
Du Ruo agreed right away. How could she say no to her bestie? Plus, the video Huanhuan showed her… The routine mixed flamenco, samba, even tango, fiery, dramatic, contagious energy. It made Du Ruo itch to get out on the dance floor herself.
They crammed together for five nights, and by the end, the performance was set.
The night before, Xia Nan gave Du Ruo the full glam squad treatment, fluttery lashes, a smoky eye, flawless fair cheeks, and blazing red lips.
She curled Du Ruo’s mid-length hair with a hot iron, slipped a red headband into the waves, and zipped her into a red, backless, full-skirted dress worthy of the dance floor.
When they were done, Qiu Yuchen’s eyes went wide. "Whoa, Du Ruo just turned into a total bombshell."
Du Ruo stared at the mirror, nearly cracking up. "Holy crap, is that even me?"
"What did you expect, for a spicy dance, you have to go all out!" said stylist Xia Nan, matter-of-factly.
"Okay, okay! I get it, I’m fabulous!" Du Ruo giggled as she headed out the door.
The night of the dance, the dead of winter.
Snow kept drifting down outside.
Du Ruo, He Huanhuan, Xu Ke, and Su Yan, dressed in their red dance dresses and heels, puffer coats thrown over their shoulders, sprinted through the icy campus in the middle of the night.
Snowflakes twirled through the air, making the girls’ red skirts blaze against the deep-blue night.
The cold was bone-cutting, crisp and wild, making them giddier by the minute.
They hoisted their skirts and dashed, laughing breathlessly as they ran through campus.
Fighting a blizzard, they reached the looming teaching building at last.
It was an imposing, modern, stone-cold structure.
The main event hall was up on the second floor, with an external steel staircase spiraling up outside.
The steps were layered in snow and dotted with icy shoeprints.
Upstairs, people were coming and going, the doors to the event hall opening and shutting, music and chatter bursting out every few seconds.
Grabbing her skirt, Du Ruo thundered up the steps, the others right behind her.
He Huanhuan hollered, "Hurry! We’re already late, come on!"
Xu Ke: "I’m freezing my ass off, these shoes don’t even stay on!"
Du Ruo: "Watch us wearing red dance shoes, what if we can’t stop dancing, just like in that fairy tale? Won’t we have to chop our feet off in the end?"
Su Yan: "Huh?? Chop the feet off? The version I read, you just take the shoes off…"
Du Ruo: "That’s the PG version. In the original, the girl can’t take the magic shoes off, she has to chop her whole foot off. Oh, and in Cinderella, her stepsisters try to force their feet into the glass slipper, one slices off her toes, the other her heel…"
He Huanhuan yelled, "Shut up! What the hell is wrong with you? You’re ruining my childhood!"
"Hey, it’s the truth! Would you rather live in denial?" Du Ruo cackled, glancing back as she raced up the stairs.
"Watch your step!" Huanhuan slipped and grabbed the icy railing. "These stairs are freezing, you’ll fall if you’re not careful!"
"I’m fine, I’m almost, " Du Ruo reached the last step just as a tall figure opened the door from the hall above. A blast of music and voices flooded out like a tidal wave.
Startled, Du Ruo put her foot down right on a patch of ice. Her heels twisted, wobbled,
"Ah!!"
And she slipped down the steps.
The guy, just stepping out, phone in hand, saw a red-dressed, curly-haired girl tumble down the stairs.
He didn’t even think; he lunged forward and grabbed her arm. With a quick tug, her falling body was rescued in midair.
She latched onto his arm with both hands, her grip fierce as death.
Saved.
She didn't even let go, just clung there, gasping for breath.
"You okay?" he asked, voice cool and unruffled, not exactly gentle.
Du Ruo, still shaken, looked up slowly, right into Jing Ming’s striking face.
In the snowy night, his eyes looked black and piercing.
The moment he recognized her, Jing Ming froze, brow slowly furrowing.
He glanced her up and down. For a second, he hardly recognized her, smoky makeup, scarlet lips, big curls, red dress swirling around her legs.
She…
What the heck was that about?
“Du Ruo, are you okay?” He Huanhuan rushed over to help her up.
“I’m fine.” Du Ruo quickly let go of Jing Ming’s hand and stood up. The silliness and laughter faded from her face, and while she wasn’t exactly thrilled, she still managed a quiet, “Thanks.”
He didn’t answer. He just put his phone to his ear, walked out to the balcony, and took a call.
Outside, the wind and snow were howling. The four of them darted back indoors.
Xu Ke: “I heard Jiang Xiaoyun chased after him for ages and still got nowhere.”
Su Yan: “What? But Jiang Xiaoyun’s gorgeous!”
Xu Ke: “Yeah, who knows. Rumor has it he can’t be bothered to date real people. Says tinkering with robots is more fun.”
Su Yan: “…Some things about genius, we mere mortals just can’t get.”
Du Ruo ignored them, rolling her eyes in her mind.
He Huanhuan whispered, “Shh, let’s stop talking. We’re up next.”
They fell silent, heading for the edge of the stage.
Inside the big event hall, students were gathered in a ring, sitting or standing, encircling a stage at the center.
Right now, Wang Huaiyu was performing ballet on behalf of the Mechatronics class.
Du Ruo watched from the side.
Huaiyu spun in her white tutu, dancing graceful as a white swan.
Du Ruo felt a flicker of envy, but she no longer let that turn into self-doubt like she used to.
Ballet was all classical elegance, but their dance would be fiery and vibrant, a clash of styles she hoped would give the crowd something completely new.
Huaiyu finished soon, closing with a graceful flourish and bowing to the audience.
Applause broke out.
The white swan glided off stage; the red butterflies soared up to take her place.
Du Ruo’s turn had come.
Four guys and four girls stood in the center, each pair pointedly keeping their distance, faces set in proud, couldn’t-care-less expressions.
Suddenly, the music began. Spanish rhythms, bold, bright, impossibly alive.
Du Ruo tipped her chin just a touch, stretched her slender arms high, clapped twice, and started to dance, snapping to the beat, swinging her hips and swirling her skirt as she spun around her partner, every move pulsing with energy.
Just then, Jing Ming walked in, and caught the whole thing in one glance.
That red dress was like fire, making the pale skin of Du Ruo’s exposed back look dazzlingly white.
She was grinning wide, dancing with her partner, sometimes bumping her shoulder with his, her eyes lit up with mischief as she leaned close; other times arching an eyebrow and tossing her head, acting too proud to even bother.
Flirting, then retreating. Daring, restrained, but always brimming with bold, blazing vitality.
Her swirling red skirt rippled like butterfly wings; her radiant smile shone like a burst of wildflowers.
Even the curls of her hair seemed to leap, alive and playful, over her slender shoulders.
Jing Ming leaned against the wall, watching the dancers in the middle of the floor. His eyebrows rose slightly, expression hard to read.
The girl at the center of the stage, her eyes done up wild-cat smoky, her lips bright and bold, dress cut daringly low in the back. Youth, reckless and free.
Everyone was drawn to her, students all around started clapping and stomping along with the music without even realizing.
Halfway through, trouble: Du Ruo suddenly blanked on the choreography and her steps fell apart.
She’d just learned it last-minute and couldn’t remember it all, usually relying on the others to remind her as they went. But when she froze, the others tripped up too, and the whole thing unraveled.
It was getting more chaotic by the second,
Uh-oh, now what?
Everyone stared at each other in panic,
But, screw it.
Forget the moves, let’s just go wild!
“Ahhh, I totally lost it!” she squealed, clapping a hand over her face. Running on pure adrenaline, she let loose, dancing wild and free with zero shame.
Her partners just went for it too. The whole group started dancing like maniacs, no steps, just fun.
And honestly, who cared? If you’re happy, you win.
The crowd went absolutely wild, laughter and cheers echoing everywhere.
They were the last act of the evening, after all. Soon everyone spilled onto the dance floor, just letting go and having the time of their lives.
Du Ruo danced till she was out of breath. She squeezed free from the pulsing mass of dancers, still floating with energy, laughing like crazy to herself.
Boys coming toward her grinned and gave her a thumbs-up: “Nice going, Du Ruo!”
“Thanks!” she called back, bouncing toward the edge of the crowd, swinging her shoulders as she hummed along with the music. “Senorita~~~ mira mira~~~”
She looked up, and ran right into Jing Ming’s stare. He was leaning against the wall, spinning his phone in his hand.
Suddenly, the song stuck in her throat.
Music. Laughter. Shifting lights all around them.
He watched her. She watched him.
After barely a second, they both looked away, pretending the other didn’t exist.
“Du Ruo, wanna dance?” someone nearby called out.
It was Li Qinghe.
“Senior, you made it too?”
“Just came to check what sort of trouble you freshmen would get up to. Shall we dance?”
“Sure! What dance?”
“I haven’t got a clue.”
“Then let’s just wing it! Ha!”
They called it “dancing,” but at this point nobody was following any real steps, just grabbing whoever, jumping around, losing themselves in the energy. The whole crowd was like a rave gone off the rails, everyone grinning like fools.
Jing Ming looked away, giving the mad tangle onstage a quick glance.
He definitely wasn’t about to join the dance floor freak show, what a bunch of idiots, honestly. He stuffed his phone in his coat pocket.
A girl tiptoed over, nervously suggesting, “Jing Ming, dance with me?”
“Nope,” he shot back, deadpan. He straightened up, pushed off from the wall, and left the hall without looking back.