After that day, Teng Hao became even more dedicated to both studying and dancing – opportunities regained after loss often become more precious. It seemed that from that day on, Teng Hao gained an inseparable shadow: Ren Yunshen.
Ren Yunshen would come to their house every day after finishing her piano practice. At first, she always brought homemade desserts, saying she wanted everyone to try them, using this as an excuse. Later, as they became more familiar, she no longer needed reasons to visit. She would come empty-handed but punctually every day, quietly watching their tutoring sessions, or practicing her calligraphy beside them.
Sometimes during breaks, Teng Hao would practice dancing in the study. When Ren Yunshen first saw Teng Hao doing Breaking, she showed intense curiosity and great interest in street dance. Whenever Teng Hao performed high-skill moves, she made no effort to hide the admiration in her eyes.
Ren Yunshen’s appreciation greatly pleased Teng Hao – he loved seeing her surprised expression with her small mouth open, and how she would clap enthusiastically. At such times, Teng Hao felt like an impressive hero.
The two young people, one active and one quiet, quickly became good friends. Ren Yunshen, usually wary of others due to her natural disability, trusted Teng Hao completely. The usually carefree and childish Teng Hao showed a protective instinct beyond his years when it came to Ren Yunshen. He took care of her with attention and gentleness.
Gradually, Ruan Yu also became close with Ren Yunshen. They added each other on WeChat, deepening their communication and understanding through text. Though the young girl couldn’t speak, her clear eyes seemed to understand everything around her.
One day, she suddenly asked Ruan Yu: “Sister Ruan, are you and Brother Teng Yi together?”
Ruan Yu was surprised – she had never shown any intimate gestures with Teng Yi in front of Ren Yunshen.
“Why do you ask?”
“I can tell,” the young girl’s delicate fingers danced quickly across the screen. “When you look at each other, there are hearts in the air.”
This message was followed by a string of pink heart emojis.
Ruan Yu laughed, then openly admitted her relationship with Teng Yi.
Ren Yunshen looked envious: “You two are perfect together.”
As she typed “perfect together,” her gaze turned misty, softly lingering on the young man writing intently at his desk.
The young girl’s feelings were completely transparent.
Teng Hao seemed to sense something and looked up.
“Why are you looking at me?” he asked.
Dense and straightforward, showing a kind of simplicity beyond his usual cleverness.
Ren Yunshen smiled and shook her head, casually continuing to chat with Ruan Yu on her phone.
A month later, Shen Bing resolved her domestic project issues and went abroad again. Without Shen Bing watching, Teng Hao was as free as a bird released from its cage. Every day after school, instead of going home, he would head straight to Journey. To keep pace with Teng Hao, Ren Yunshen had her father’s assistant find her a piano school on Dongyun Road. Though Ren Yunshen had studied piano for many years and the mediocre teachers at regular piano schools couldn’t compare to her skill, she didn’t mind – she just wanted to be able to go home with Teng Hao after school.
The black Rolls-Royce at Journey’s entrance, and the poetic beautiful young lady in its backseat, became a scenic view in many people’s hearts. But she always stayed hidden behind the car window, never getting out. The more mysterious, the more curious people became.
Xiao Qing and others often gossiped, referring to Ren Yunshen as “Teng Hao’s fairy,” but Teng Hao always denied it.
“She’s my good friend, just giving me a ride along the way, nothing more.”
Nothing more. This was the young girl’s excuse, and the dense young man believed it.
–_–
“Yunshen seems to like Teng Hao,” Ruan Yu mentioned this to Teng Yi once. Not that she was gossiping, she was just somewhat worried about Yunshen and Teng Hao. This worry was inexplicable yet particularly strong and intense. She felt that while things were peaceful now with one keeping quiet and one remaining oblivious, if anything changed later and broke this delicate balance, both would likely get hurt.
Teng Yi didn’t comment. He had his troubles recently and couldn’t spare attention to these two kids’ situation.
The Liaocheng New Year’s Art Performance was approaching. The government organizers required each major university in Liaocheng to submit a positive energy program. Teacher Tian Cheng wanted Journey to showcase street dance culture, but Teacher Jiang Weiguo from the publicity office refused.
Teacher Jiang believed that Chinese culture and performing arts were profound and extensive – any traditional art form would be presentable. The school shouldn’t worship foreign things. Moreover, street dance culture was underground even in foreign countries, not fit for public display.
“Teacher Jiang, you’re prejudiced against street dance,” Tian Cheng said directly.
“So what if I’m prejudiced? Look at the commotion they caused at the school anniversary – simply seeking attention. This kind of improper, non-traditional dance shouldn’t represent our school. If you want to submit a dance program, fine – classical dance, modern dance, folk dance – we have all kinds of mainstream dances. Why insist on stepping on this landmine?”
“Teacher Jiang, street dance is a very sunny, free, and positive form of dance. The students’ response at the school anniversary proves how popular it is,” Tian Cheng argued reasonably. “This dance form can be learned and participated in by people of any age or gender – it’s very inclusive. Although street dance hasn’t achieved widespread popularity in China yet, I believe that given time, it will be accepted and loved by the public. If our school becomes the first to try something new, staying ahead of trends, wouldn’t that be cool?”
“Cool, cool, cool – don’t always judge the value of something by whether it’s cool or not. Little Tian, I know you’re close to that Teng Yi kid, and, understandably, you support him. But as someone who’s been through it all, let me warn you: the nail that sticks out gets hammered down. Being different isn’t necessarily wrong, but following conventions is not wrong. This matter ends here. I’ll handle the program selection – you don’t need to worry about it.”
Teacher Jiang made the final decision, completely condemning Journey and street dance.
This argument happened to be overheard by Zhou Xihe, and soon Teacher Jiang’s comments quietly spread among Journey’s street dance members. Everyone was afraid of upsetting Teng Yi and wanted to keep it from him, but ultimately, the truth couldn’t be hidden, and Teng Yi found out.
Teng Yi was somewhat uncomfortable but not as upset as imagined. Street dance indeed originated underground and had always existed on the margins. Over the years, he had heard criticism from all directions, even harsher and more unpleasant than Teacher Jiang’s words. Comments like “cheap art, bubble culture,” “trash like KFC and McDonald’s,” “monkey performance,” “grassroots, decadent, villainous,” and so on.
Those who dislike street dance have ten thousand ways to express their dislike.
Of course, those who love street dance also have ten thousand ways to express their love.
He believed that those silent perseverance and firm beliefs amid criticism would one day break through the soil and bloom into flowers that would amaze the world.
–_–
Teng Yi hoped to change Teacher Jiang’s view, but Caihong disagreed.
“They say we’re underground culture – yeah, we are underground! Being underground is our identity. Dance our street dance, and let them dislike it if they want. If people don’t like it, should we force them to? How does that saying go, a thousand people…” He patted Lin Shan’s shoulder.
“A thousand people have a thousand Hamlets in their eyes,” Lin Shan finished.
“Right, that’s it.” Caihong winked. “It’s just an art performance, not some professional competition. Maybe the old man just wants to see a bunch of girls in colorful clothes floating around on stage – why should we bother joining in?”
Teng Yi remained silent, but everyone could see that he wanted to participate in this art performance, and for him, it seemed to be more than just a simple performance.
Ruan Yu noticed this too. After everyone had left the practice room, she approached him.
“Why do you insist on participating?” she asked.
“Why don’t you guess, Scholar Miss?” In the light, his smile was indistinct.
“Don’t do that – I haven’t solved the last puzzle yet, and this one’s harder. I definitely won’t guess it.” She linked her arm with his. “Today I don’t want to be Scholar Miss. I want to hear you tell me the answer directly.”
Teng Yi pondered for a moment, seemingly considering how to begin in a way she would understand.
“Street dance culture has always been seen as an underground culture. Besides its underground origins, there’s another important reason – the values of street dancers themselves. Many dancers, like Caihong, think being underground is their identity, that underground is an authentic street dance, so they reject mainstream stages. But… if we keep hiding street dance underground, how is that different from closing ourselves off and refusing to progress?”
“You want to use this opportunity to bring street dance above ground?”
“Bringing street dance from underground to above ground can’t be achieved with just one or two performances – it’s a process that requires long-term effort. To complete this transition from underground to mainstream, besides street dance’s charm and the efforts of street dancers, media promotion is equally important. I think this is an excellent opportunity to promote street dance.”
The Liaocheng New Year’s Art Performance would bring together students from all major universities in Liaocheng, government officials, and mass media. If they could get on such a stage and perform excellently, leaving a good impression on the audience, there would be more room for developing street dance culture in Liaocheng in the future, and they could gain more social support.
After hearing Teng Yi’s words, Ruan Yu finally understood – what he cared about wasn’t just the immediate small gain. He was playing a much bigger game, and beyond his planning and strategy, he had an even more distant goal.
“Teng Yi, what exactly is your ambition for street dance?” Ruan Yu was curious.
Teng Yi smiled at her sudden seriousness.
“It’s not so much ambition as it is a dream.”
“Then what’s the dream?”
“Regarding street dance, being able to keep dancing myself is one dream. Additionally, I hope to break people’s prejudices, truly bring world street dance culture into China, let more children learn street dance from a young age, and also enable Chinese street dancers to reach the world stage. Show the world that it’s not just foreigners who can dance well – Chinese people can dance with just as much feeling.”
–_–
In the following days, Teng Yi’s words kept flashing through Ruan Yu’s mind.
She finally understood his purpose in founding Journey Street Dance Training Company – everything was to support his ultimate dream. She was proud of him, but along with that pride, she deeply felt the gap between them.
Ruan Yu considered herself someone with goals, but compared to Teng Yi, her thoughts and aspirations seemed too small-minded.
When she went to the radio station, she passed Teacher Jiang Weiguo’s office daily. Several times, Ruan Yu wanted to rush in and tell Teacher Jiang about her observations of street dance as an outsider, and the vision and passion she saw in Teng Yi, but she feared being too rash might backfire.
This hesitant impulse never materialized into action, but because of this intentional attention, she discovered one of Teacher Jiang’s hobbies.
Teacher Jiang particularly loved Peking opera, especially Mei Lanfang’s “Farewell My Concubine.”
Every noon when Ruan Yu passed by, she could hear those distinctive opera tunes coming from an old recorder. At first, she didn’t pay attention, but gradually, she developed a bold idea.
Since Xiao Qing and Caihong always claimed that street dance was a dance form that could move to any music, could they dance to Peking opera? If possible, this might be an entry point to move Teacher Jiang and change his view of street dance.
Ruan Yu conveyed this idea to Teng Yi.
Her suggestion was like a revelation to Teng Yi.
“Scholar Miss, you’re so clever!” He planted a kiss on her forehead. “When this is resolved, I’ll give you a reward!”
As usual, before Ruan Yu could ask what the reward was, he had already grabbed his computer and disappeared into the practice room.
That evening, after Ruan Yu finished tutoring Teng Hao, Teng Yi still hadn’t come out. The practice room door remained closed, with no sound coming from inside.
Afraid of disturbing him, she left without saying goodbye, taking a ride back to school with Ren Yunshen.
The next day, Teng Yi was still shut in the practice room. In the evening, Xiao Qing, Zhou Xihe, and the others went to join him – even Fang Wan came.
Ruan Yu didn’t know what dance they were rehearsing, only hearing occasional bursts of laughter from inside.
This laughter, from beginning to end, carried a kind of tacit understanding unique to street dancers, something outsiders couldn’t easily join.
Ruan Yu hesitated at the door for a long time, unsure whether to go in.
Just then, the door suddenly opened, and Fang Wan walked out.
In the late autumn, temperatures had dropped sharply, but she wore only a short-sleeved shirt, her long hair tied messily, yet with its artistic beauty in the chaos.
Ruan Yu was momentarily stunned.
Fang Wan glanced at her, withdrew her gaze, and walked toward the bathroom humming a tune.
Since Teng Yi had publicly announced his relationship with Ruan Yu in the group chat, Fang Wan had never spoken there again, nor had she come to Journey. Her silence was like a kind of silent protest.
This time, for Teng Yi’s dance, Caihong couldn’t participate, and they needed another female dance partner. He had specifically tagged Fang Wan in the group chat in front of everyone, asking if she was willing to join.
Fang Wan had responded after about two hours, affecting an air of indifference.
She had said: “Yi, if you’re inviting me, of course I’m willing.”
And so came this moment of face-to-face encounter and her haughty gaze.