Chapter One Hundred and Fifteen: Selection

Jiang Yun nodded. “Miss Yang, I’ve already decided what I’m going to perform.”

Yang Wuxia frowned. “Jiang Yun, I don’t think you’re taking this seriously enough.”

On the surface, Jiang Yun wore an earnest, receptive expression, but inwardly he rolled his eyes.

With a long exhale, Yang Wuxia said, “Fine. Tell me what you plan to perform.”

Jiang Yun nodded. That suited him perfectly. Let the facts speak for themselves.

He then gave Yang Wuxia an advance demonstration of his chosen performance.

Ten minutes later, Yang Wuxia looked at him in astonishment. “Jiang Yun, I have to say, your reputation as a national prodigy is well deserved.”

“This time, the position of Hua Nation’s diplomatic image ambassador is practically yours.” Yang Wuxia finally set aside her prejudice. At first, she had thought Jiang Yun was just a young man—what could he possibly know? At most, he had a little talent. But now, she had completely abandoned any hint of condescension.

“Jiang Yun, get some rest. I’ll head back first.”

“Sure, Miss Yang. I’ll see you out.”

Yang Wuxia frowned. A moment ago she had been praising him in her mind, and now he was becoming all so familiar and overfamiliar? Was he the sort who treated everyone like old friends? And besides, did she really look that old?

“You’d better call me Miss Yang,” she said.

Jiang Yun froze. Had he offended her? Did Yang Wuxia always keep such a distance from people?

“Understood, Miss Yang.”

Yang Wuxia nodded.

Jiang Yun escorted her downstairs, then returned to his room.

Bored and with nothing else to do, he casually searched the internet for news about the Hua Nation’s diplomatic image ambassador.

After opening the page, he saw that the first competition was currently underway. It would be held once every five years, and there was no other information.

His luck was incredible. The very first time it was being held, he had managed to catch it.

Jiang Yun looked through the list of candidates for selection and, to his surprise, found his own name there, along with Wang Fengwan and Li Mengya.

So he would be seeing Li Mengya tomorrow.

Jiang Yun got up, took a shower, and then fell asleep in no time.

Early the next morning, he woke refreshed and energized, brushed his teeth, washed his face, and then went to the hotel restaurant for breakfast.

Ring ring ring.

He took out his phone. It was Yang Wuxia.

“Hello?”

Yang Wuxia’s voice came through. “Where are you? Why is nobody in the room?”

Jiang Yun rolled his eyes. Wasn’t she going to eat breakfast first thing in the morning?

“I’m in the restaurant. I’ll be back right away.”

“No need. Eat first.”

“Wait for me a moment.”

Naturally, Jiang Yun wasn’t going to ignore Yang Wuxia and eat first.

He grabbed two steamed buns and hurried out of the restaurant.

When he reached the third floor, Yang Wuxia was already waiting by the door.

“Miss Yang, sorry to have kept you waiting.”

“It’s fine.”

Jiang Yun opened the door, and the two of them went inside.

Yang Wuxia sat down on the bed with a thump. “Yesterday, the higher-ups made a temporary decision that the image ambassador would be selected from among military personnel. I had to plead my case repeatedly before I managed to keep your name on the list.”

Jiang Yun was somewhat surprised. It seemed Yang Wuxia truly had taken this matter to heart.

“Miss Yang, you’ve worked hard.” He poured her a cup of tea. “Actually, it didn’t need to be this troublesome.”

“No.” Yang Wuxia took the cup and refused him flatly. “If even you can’t be the image ambassador, then I’d say the official standard is nothing special.”

Jiang Yun silently gave her a thumbs-up in his heart. This lady really did dare say anything.

But she did not know that his foundation was not entirely clean. Using his logic-clarifying skill, Jiang Yun knew that when a person becomes famous, all sorts of scandals follow. If he took on the role of image ambassador and had his old black history dug up, that would be a problem.

After thinking it over, he decided to be candid. “Miss Yang, I was once exposed for having an affair. Because of that, the company I was signed with immediately terminated my contract.”

Yang Wuxia frowned. “Anything else?”

Jiang Yun shook his head. “Everything else was eventually clarified.”

“Did you actually have an affair?”

Jiang Yun shook his head. “No.”

“Then there’s nothing to worry about.”

Jiang Yun was speechless. This lady really was forceful.

With those words from Yang Wuxia, Jiang Yun finally felt reassured. Otherwise, even if he sat in the position of image ambassador, he would still feel uneasy.

...

Dressed in a suit and tie, Jiang Yun walked beside Yang Wuxia, who was wearing a black evening dress and had her arm linked through his.

The two of them entered the hall.

It was spacious, with ten judges seated in the front row. Behind the judging panel sat the contestants who had come for the selection.

Jiang Yun, in his gray suit, nodded in greeting to the people present. He even deliberately winked at Li Mengya.

Li Mengya cast him a sidelong glance, turned her head away, and pretended not to know him. Her expression made Jiang Yun’s heart beat faster.

Jiang Yun and Yang Wuxia came to a seat. Yang Wuxia said, “Sit here for now. I’m going backstage to take a look.”

Jiang Yun nodded calmly.

About twenty minutes later, a female host stepped onto the stage and announced, “Next, please welcome Zheng Fei with the performance of Camel Bell.”

A tall, lean man in his thirties or forties, dressed in a green military uniform, walked onto the stage.

Soft music began to play, and Zheng Fei sang gently.

“Seeing off our comrades as they set out on their journey,
with silent tears glistening in our eyes,
we hear the sound of camel bells in our ears.
The road stretches far beneath a veil of mist.
On the revolutionary road, partings are common;
the same farewell, yet different feelings.”

The audience applauded thunderously as Zheng Fei finished his song.

“Next, please welcome Li Mengya with a dance performance, Flying Apsaras.”

Li Mengya stepped onto the stage, followed by twenty or thirty backup dancers from backstage, each wearing splendid costumes, silk ribbons fluttering from their arms.

Dong. Dong-dong.

To the beat of the drums, Li Mengya began to dance softly.

Dong. Dong. Dong-dong-dong.

With her arms outstretched and her posture exquisite, ribbons danced and flowed between her sleeves.

The dancers behind her joined in.

Then, all at once, the wires hidden behind them lifted them into the air.

Li Mengya and the twenty or thirty dancers rose up together, each with lowered brows and downcast eyes, their fingers forming different graceful seals and gestures.

Dong. Dong-dong-dong.

The rhythm of the drums quickened, and Li Mengya and the others danced gracefully in midair.

Clang.

At the sound of the gong, the performance came to a stop.

The female host returned to the stage. “Next, please welcome Wang Fengwan with a solo dance performance, Jing Ke Assassins the King of Qin.”

Wang Fengwan stepped onto the stage wearing men’s ancient costume and carrying a sword at her waist. At one meter eighty tall and dressed in male attire, she looked dashing and imposing.

Shing.

A sharp burst of pipa music sounded, and Wang Fengwan thrust her sword forward. Her movements were agile and powerful, like a swimming dragon.

She drew her blade and slashed, then raised her left leg, balancing entirely on her right foot in a vertical split.

With repeated thrusts of the long sword in her hands, her movements were free and graceful, carrying the heroic air of a general who had killed her way across the battlefield.

Below the stage, Jiang Yun watched in surprise. Wang Fengwan actually knew martial arts? Then why hadn’t she fought back that day...

Her sword flashed and whirled with fierce energy, cutting horizontally and vertically. At times she looked like a general cutting down enemies on the battlefield; at others, like a wandering swordswoman righting wrongs wherever she found them.

The audience below the stage applauded enthusiastically.

At last, Wang Fengwan sheathed her sword and bowed in place. Her performance was over, and she headed off the stage.

Li Mengya quietly gave Wang Fengwan a thumbs-up, and Wang Fengwan smiled and nodded.

Jiang Yun happened to catch that scene.

He frowned. When had those two become so close? Something felt off.

“Next, please welcome Jiang Yun to the stage to perform. Everyone, please enjoy...”