On a Beijing winter night, the chill of snow-covered streets and alleys was thick with the scent of falling petals, yet the area in front of the People's Theater was bustling with activity and warmth. Gilded palace lanterns hung from the vermilion pillars, their flickering light reflecting off the red carpet in front of the entrance, making it appear as smooth and lustrous as cream. The pine and cypress trees on either side were adorned with fine white frost, resembling dark ribbons studded with silver stars. Above the theater, a neon sign proclaiming the premiere of the large-scale ethnic dance drama "Silk Road Flower Rain" danced in the night, its red, orange, and gold colors weaving together to transform the night sky into a shimmering tapestry of light.

Lin Wanqiu wore a tailor-made dark green velvet cheongsam with lotus embroidery on the collar, the fabric shimmering with a muted sheen as she moved, highlighting her fair skin and elegant demeanor. Shen Tingzhou, in a dark gray Zhongshan suit, stood tall and straight, his sleeves rolled up slightly to reveal a simple watch on his wrist. His brows held his usual composure, yet his eyes betrayed a hint of anticipation. Shen Nian'an, in a light gray suit, his youthful face radiating confidence, carried an exquisite food box containing post-match supplies prepared for Nianxi—soft cakes made with space yam and water chestnuts, along with warm ginseng tea.

"Father and Mother, look at the scale of this theater, it's really magnificent!" Shen Nian'an looked at the endless stream of people in front of the theater, her voice filled with excitement. "Nianxi is so amazing to be able to perform on such a big stage."

Lin Wanqiu nodded, her fingertips unconsciously tightening their grip on the theater ticket. The rough texture of the paper lapped against her fingertips, and a surge of anticipation and trepidation welled up inside her. She looked up at the theater's dome, as if she could already see her daughter in a magnificent costume, dancing gracefully under the spotlight. Her eyes welled up with tears: "Our Nianxi has suffered so much since she was little, enduring so much hardship while practicing. Now she's finally made it through."

“The child is successful because she has worked hard.” Shen Tingzhou gently patted Lin Wanqiu’s hand, the warmth of his palm seeping through the fabric, calm and reassuring. “Let’s just sit quietly and cheer her on today.”

The three followed the flow of people into the theater, whose interior was even more magnificent. Neatly arranged dark red velvet seats and a huge crystal chandelier hanging from the dome, the light refracting like a cascading silver river, illuminating the Silk Road murals on the walls—flying apsaras playing the pipa, caravans traversing the desert, and the distant sound of camel bells—all echoing the theme of the dance drama. A faint fragrance filled the air, mingling with the hushed conversations of the audience, creating an atmosphere that was both solemn and expectant.

Their seats were in the middle, near the front, with an excellent view. Not long after they sat down, Shen Nian'an noticed several well-dressed elderly men in the front row, accompanied by staff members, who were talking in hushed tones, mentioning terms like "a titan of the dance world" and "artistic judge." "Mom and Dad, it seems this performance is of a very high standard. Nianxi must be under a lot of pressure," Shen Nian'an said in a low voice, his tone tinged with worry.

Lin Wanqiu's heart tightened, but then she relaxed. She remembered her daughter's words in her letter that "the soul of dance is emotion," and her daughter's persistence and resilience since childhood. She gently shook her head: "Nianxi knows what she's doing. She's not the type to be defeated by pressure." Even so, her gaze still involuntarily drifted towards the entrance on one side of the stage, hoping to see her daughter soon.

Shen Tingzhou saw through her thoughts and took out a handkerchief from his pocket, handing it to her. "Don't be nervous. Our child is performing on stage, so we parents need to stay calm. She knows we're in the audience, so she'll definitely perform even better." His voice was deep and gentle, carrying a reassuring strength. Lin Wanqiu took the handkerchief, wiping the moisture from the corner of her eyes with her fingertips. Looking into her husband's steady eyes, the restlessness in her heart gradually subsided.

At seven o'clock sharp, the theater lights suddenly dimmed, leaving only the spotlight in the center of the stage, which shone like a golden beam piercing the darkness. The melodious orchestral music flowed gently, first with the deep cello notes as distant as camel bells in the desert, then the high notes of the violins as graceful as the flowing robes of a flying apsara, and finally the piano melody intertwined, outlining the vastness and magnificence of the ancient Silk Road.

The audience fell silent instantly, even their breathing became soft. Lin Wanqiu held her breath, her hands clasped tightly on her knees, her gaze fixed on the stage. Shen Tingzhou straightened his back even more, his hands on his knees, his fingertips slightly clenched, his usually composed eyes now filled with tension and anticipation. Shen Nian'an took out his phone, switched to video mode, wanting to capture his sister's most dazzling moment.

The stage curtain slowly rose, revealing a set simulating a desert. Yellow sand swirled, a camel caravan slowly approached, and dancers in exotic costumes moved with light, graceful steps, their movements fluid and unrestrained, seemingly transporting the audience back to the ancient Silk Road a thousand years ago. Lin Wanqiu watched intently, secretly marveling, "This set, these costumes, are truly exquisite."

As the plot unfolded, dancers took turns on stage, some depicting the hardships of the caravan, others showcasing the charm of the Western Regions. Every movement was precise and captivating. Lin Wanqiu's gaze swept through the crowd, but she couldn't find Nianxi's figure, and a sense of anxiety rose in her heart. Shen Nian'an seemed to sense her thoughts and whispered comfortingly, "Mother, Nianxi's 'Reverse Pipa' is the highlight; it should be later."

Lin Wanqiu nodded, forcing herself to calm down and enjoy the performance. But the more brilliantly the dancers performed, the more worried she became for Nianxi. She knew that the Central Song and Dance Troupe was full of hidden talents, and every dancer was an elite selected from thousands. As a newcomer, it would be extremely difficult for Nianxi to gain a foothold on such a stage.

Just then, the stage lights suddenly changed, the warm yellow light turning into a cool blue-purple, as mysterious as the starry sky in the Dunhuang murals. The orchestral melody became ethereal and melodious, accompanied by the crisp sound of the pipa, like spring water dripping onto a rock, refreshing and soothing.

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