Jiang Ling vaguely felt the gentle touch of Bai Xue, a slight chill running down her spine for no apparent reason.
“Huh, why does it feel like something scary is watching me? Is it just my imagination?”
Before she could say anything, Bai Xue let go of her arms.
Staring at Jiang Ling, who was still dazed in her embrace, Bai Xue asked with a bright smile, “Comfortable?”
“Uh, soft and comfy, it feels like…”
Jiang Ling’s words came to an abrupt halt.
Realizing her embarrassment, she hurriedly stood up, glaring at Bai Xue, who had lured her into this.
At that moment, Bai Xue spread her hands, feigning an innocent expression.
“Quick, let’s practice.”
Jiang Ling turned her head away and quickly walked toward the other three.
“Little Bell, let’s check your basics first.”
Mo Ran looked at the unconfident Jiang Ling, signaling Bai Xue to play a basic rhythm.
She began dancing in front of the mirror with precise, rhythmic movements.
As she danced, she glanced at Jiang Ling, encouraging her, “Try dancing with me.”
Jiang Ling watched her clean, sharp movements, gritted her teeth, and recklessly joined in.
However, the graceful steps under Mo Ran’s feet turned into something resembling a zombie from Train to Busan when Jiang Ling tried them—stiff and awkward.
It was as if you could hear the creaking of rusty mechanical parts.
Her face turned ashen as she looked at her clumsy reflection in the mirror, her expression growing increasingly sheepish.
Fang Wannan, standing nearby, showed her displeasure and said sharply, “What the heck are you dancing?”
Lin Xiaoyu, after carefully observing, came to a conclusion.
“A new dance style? Pretty niche, quite an eye-opener.”
Bai Xue remained silent, but her gaze toward Jiang Ling carried a hint of pity.
Even the usually optimistic Mo Ran stopped her encouragement, hesitating awkwardly for a long time without saying a word.
Under such scrutinizing stares, Jiang Ling felt like she was about to spiral into oblivion.
She quickly stopped her ridiculous dancing and forced a smile, “Uh, maybe we should just forget it…”
“I might not be cut out for this. Being an idol is too dazzling, and someone like me definitely can’t do it.”
Jiang Ling had always lived by one motto: nothing is impossible as long as you give up.
She looked around, about to say something more, when Lin Xiaoyu spoke up calmly, “It’s fine, I’ll teach you.”
She walked over to Jiang Ling, stretched her body slightly, and struck a simple dance pose.
The move wasn’t difficult.
Though Jiang Ling was a bit timid, she mimicked it as best she could.
While the details might have been off, overall, it was decent.
“Great job.”
Lin Xiaoyu nodded and moved on to the next step.
She broke down Mo Ran’s earlier dance into smaller, detailed movements, explaining them frame by frame.
Such patience made Jiang Ling feel too embarrassed to complain further, and she began to learn seriously.
Seeing Jiang Ling’s clumsy but earnest efforts, Fang Wannan’s expression softened.
She stopped criticizing and joined Mo Ran on the other side of the practice room to review their dance moves.
About two hours later.
“Okay.”
Watching Jiang Ling complete the dance sequence to the music, Lin Xiaoyu’s lips curved into a faint smile, and she gave a thumbs-up.
Panting heavily, Jiang Ling looked at her sweaty reflection in the mirror, her face breaking into the brightest smile she’d had since her rebirth.
She did it.
Even if it was just one small section, a mere几十 seconds compared to others.
She had persevered.
Her heart pounded fiercely from the exertion, and Jiang Ling felt a surge of joy coursing through her veins and muscles.
She quickly turned to Lin Xiaoyu, “Thank you, Xiaoyu… big sister.”
At the end, she added “big sister,” unsure of the other’s age.
“No problem. Also, we’re probably the same age.”
Lin Xiaoyu corrected her seriously, “I saw your profile from Bai Xue. We were born in the same year, just a few months apart.”
“Huh? So I can just call you Xiaoyu?”
“Yup.”
Lin Xiaoyu grabbed a few tissues from a nearby table, wiping the sweat from her neck and handing one to Jiang Ling.
Looking at the outstretched hand, Jiang Ling’s thoughts wandered.
From the moment they met, she had noticed that Lin Xiaoyu had exceptionally beautiful hands—elegant, even.
They matched her cool, aloof demeanor.
Her slender, well-defined fingers, slightly cool palms larger than Jiang Ling’s, neatly trimmed nails, and the faint blue veins that appeared on the back of her hand with a little pressure were strikingly sensual and captivating.
Huh?
Why was she suddenly fixating on someone’s hand?
So weird.
“Is there something on my hand?”
Noticing her stare, Lin Xiaoyu raised her hand, inspecting it curiously.
“Oh… no, no.”
Afraid of being misunderstood, Jiang Ling quickly grabbed the tissue and wiped her forehead and neck.
As they wrapped up, the other three gathered around.
“Not bad, Little Bell, much better than before.”
Mo Ran recalled Jiang Ling’s earlier state, chuckling, “You looked like a poor patient with some cerebellar issue just a couple of hours ago.”
“I have feelings too, you know!”
Jiang Ling fumed helplessly.
Fang Wannan couldn’t hold back and tapped her forehead, “If you’re bad, practice more.”
“…Yes, sugar daddy.”
Jiang Ling replied with a fawning tone.
Her swift change in demeanor left Mo Ran in awe.
Instead of continuing to tease Jiang Ling, she turned to Bai Xue, who was smiling at the scene.
“Sister Bai Xue, our first performance is set for two months from now, right?”
“Yup, what’s up?” Bai Xue nodded, checking the date on her phone—exactly two months.
“Shouldn’t we start hyping it up? Like posting official photos or daily videos?”
Mo Ran counted on her fingers.
She had already created the group’s account, just waiting for the promotional phase.
“Oh, you’re right, it’s about time.”
“We need some gimmicks too, or no one will pay attention,” Fang Wannan added lazily, propping her chin and scrolling through her social media.
“I could buy some bots, though.”
Is this what rich people do?
Jiang Ling thought indignantly, but before she could say anything, she noticed Bai Xue’s gaze suddenly land on her.
In those captivating eyes, she caught a hint of… mischief?
Jiang Ling instinctively took half a step back.
“I’ve already thought of a gimmick.”
Bai Xue slowly approached Jiang Ling, stopping with a playful smile, her tone teasingly drawn out.
“Group… wife… Little… Bell.”
“Huh?”
Jiang Ling froze, flustered.
Did she just hear something outrageous?
Group wife?
Was she talking about her?