When She Stops Being Dramatic

Chapter 155: Chapter 72: The 1960s Cultural Troupe’s Top Sister (11)

’Some people have self-harming tendencies when they’re under immense stress, but would they really be calm enough to think about where to inflict the wound?’

’To think he’d target a place like that... I can’t imagine what Director Song was thinking!’

After all, Xia Zhaoyun was just too beautiful...

With the Golden Microphone competition just around the corner, Xia Zhaoyun had already written her script. She could even recite it fluently and with great emotion, but it was still missing something to meet her own high standards.

She borrowed a recorder from He Qingran, bought two blank cassette tapes, and headed to the troupe’s piano room to work on the background music.

Xia Zhaoyun’s time as a ghost hadn’t been long, but it hadn’t been short either. She had witnessed the next sixty years of Xiahua Country’s rapid economic development, so she was well aware that there was much that could be done in the realm of audio.

A musical piece with a rhythm and mood that matched the narration could add more tension to the emotional delivery, completely concealing any vocal flaws or imperfections—much like how a woman uses concealer.

She reviewed her script several times, mapping out the main emotional shifts—which parts should be intense, which should be subdued, the changes in tempo, the highs and lows in pitch, and so on. Once she had established these firm parameters, she started adding the music piece by piece.

As a dancer, she had a natural sensitivity to music. While she’d never formally studied composition, she could use the most rudimentary method—trial and error—to get the feeling just right.

Just then, the loudspeaker outside her window blared to life. After an uplifting piece of music, an announcer’s voice came on. To her surprise, it was addressing the very rumors that had been running rampant through the factory for the past two days. The announcer broke the issue down into three clear points and provided a summary for each.

First, after a thorough investigation, it was determined that Song Zhenbao’s fall from the second story was an accident due to her own carelessness. Xia Zhaoyun was not responsible for pushing her. Second, while the Song Family did raise Xia Zhaoyun for eighteen years, Xia Zhaoyun, in turn, brought them great honor through her own outstanding achievements. Due to irreconcilable differences, their connection could not be maintained, and they have since gone their separate ways. Third, as the beloved of the hero Huo Tianhao, Xia Zhaoyun is resolutely faithful to his memory. We hope everyone will act rationally, refrain from believing one-sided rumors, and show respect for the family of a martyr...

’Xia Zhaoyun was stunned. Who could be so kind as to resolve all her lingering problems for her?’

She had thought she would have to let the counter-rumors she’d started herself ferment a while longer before wiping out the trouble caused by the Song Family in one fell swoop.

’She figured she had Huo Tianhao to thank for this.’

Xia Zhaoyun pressed her lips together, her hand gently stroking the cool black and white keys of the piano. A faint warmth and affection filled her heart just from thinking Huo Tianhao’s name.

’If there really was a next life, she would repay his kindness, no matter what it took.’

Perhaps inspired by this debt of gratitude she felt she was unilaterally accepting, Xia Zhaoyun’s composing session went surprisingly smoothly. After a full day of grueling work—to the point where her hair was a frizzy mess and her scalp was slick with oil—she finally had a version she was satisfied with.

She recorded the piece twice before packing up her things and heading back to the dormitory.

That evening, He Qingran rushed over to give her a reminder. ”The registration for the Golden Microphone preliminaries is about to close. After that, it’s the semi-finals and the finals. I have to take two days off, so you’ll have to go to the venue and sign up for the competition yourself tomorrow.”

She ran through the competition details with her again and even offered her another outfit to wear.

Xia Zhaoyun smiled, nodding as she agreed to everything.

The Golden Microphone competition was held at the Cultural Palace in the city center. She had to take two different buses to get there.

Just as she got off the bus, she clutched her bag, held up a flyer, and asked for directions. Right at the entrance, she ran into a man in a red jersey with a basketball tucked under his arm.

He was tall and powerfully built. The slightly loose, short-sleeved jersey did little to hide the taut muscles developed from years of training. The beautiful, powerful lines of his physique practically screamed ’walking hormones,’ impossible to miss.

Xia Zhaoyun glanced at the man’s face, then instantly pulled her sun hat lower and adjusted the large sunglasses that already obscured most of her face. She kept her eyes fixed straight ahead and tried to walk past him.

The man tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watched her profile. She looked vaguely familiar.

He had a good memory, but only for useful information. He tended to forget unimportant people and things—especially women—the moment he saw them, never wasting the ’memory space.’

”Excuse me, miss,” he said, taking a long stride to block her path. He asked nonchalantly, spinning the basketball in one hand, ”Do you know where the basketball court is?”

The ball was perfectly obedient, spinning and dancing on his fingertips. This cool, effortless display of skill made several passing women stop in their tracks, unable to look away.

Xia Zhaoyun’s scalp prickled. ’Don’t blow your cover!’ she told herself.

She immediately turned to face him, one hand flying to cover her open mouth in feigned surprise, the other clutching at her chest.