Chapter 702: Chapter 731: The Finale
At last, the gauze curtain fell, revealing a beautiful, slim, and mysterious woman at the piano. She wore a dress of a new style, and it piled up on the stage in sinuous layers. Donning a silver phoenix-tail mask, she exuded an air of mystery and nobility, just like a sprite from a fantasy.
In person, countless men gazed at her, stunned.
Bai Oulan’s expression froze, in disbelief as she looked at Liu Yilan.
The piece concluded, but the spell below the stage seemed unbroken. She stood up, her six-meter-long skirt spreading like waves on the stage with each step.
Her posture was graceful as she bowed slightly to the audience and then held her position, waiting for the curtain to fall.
Ten seconds, twenty seconds… The curtain didn’t fall as expected, and Liu Yilan suddenly panicked. Just as she pondered over how to alleviate the awkwardness, the curtain finally fell.
Sheng Ning stood by the edge of the curtain and breathed a sigh of relief; the person responsible for the curtain had frozen, but fortunately, she reacted quickly, else it would have been embarrassing.
The next performance continued, and Liu Yilan, excited, was surrounded by the General Union Song and Dance Troupe members and ushered back to the dressing room, while other troupes and people from Qianjin silently watched them. For original chapters go to N()velFire.net
“Liu Yilan, you’re back—how wonderful!”
“That outfit looks amazing!”
“The mask is so beautiful!”
Having not seen her for such a long time, everyone was delighted, her appearance was an unexpected surprise.
Wearing the mask, Liu Yilan looked at everyone’s sincere eyes and smiled gently. “Thank you! Thank you…” Her voice choked up, leading everyone to burst into tears.
The past few months had been unbearably harsh!
Qiu Bai watched contentedly; these girls had finally grown, no longer filled with spite and scheming.
The performance continued, but after Liu Yilan’s stunning act, other items seemed dull. Bai Oulan, the host, constantly erred—either mispronouncing names or announcing the wrong performances, making the latter half of the event exceedingly awkward.
Fortunately, the comrades were rough and ready, not sweating the small stuff. However, the arts department staff were clearly not satisfied. They had sent someone several times in private to give feedback, which only increased the rate of mistakes.
“Next, please welcome the General Union Song and Dance Troupe with their ballet-drama ‘Hope Field’—a round of applause, please!” Gu Jun’s hearty voice rang out, and enthusiastic applause filled the venue. A row of seats on the middle right were reserved for art college deans and other dignitaries. They had waited all evening, especially anticipating the legendary “Hope Field.”
It was touted to involve the most people, offer the most complex performances, and showcase the ultimate in dance and music.
The curtain slowly opened, and as the audience gradually saw the entire stage, they were struck by the spectacular scene and dazzling stage design. Yang Xiaoman’s unique and rich soprano voice, like a clear tone from the vault of the sky, pierced through the dense dawn fog. In an instant, the light of dawn shone brightly. The entire stage seemed to come to life. As the lead dancer, Sheng Ning was like a prancing butterfly, a delicate rose, and more aptly, the hopeful presence of spring on the Wilderness.
Her dance moves were intricate and splendid, full of clever nuances. Art experts and deans watched intently, some fixated on Sheng Ning’s feet, reluctant to look away even for a moment.
For her feet were indeed miraculous; every dance move, every spin, every action had such rhythmic and powerful flair.
What was mesmerizing too was her expressions, which varied with the music and the storyline—crying, laughing, sorrowful, or cheerful.
Others were enthralled by the music. Yang Xiaoman’s singing, Liu Yilan’s piano tones, among many harmonies and the sounds of trumpets and the wind organ—all intertwined, entangled, forming a majestic tableau.