Chapter 23

The decision came so suddenly that Feng Ling didn't even have time to process the shock before she was thrust into intensive rehearsals. As expected, the Xihe Dance Club had sent several of their most elite dancers, and Feng Ling was singled out as a special partner for the duet with An Hesu.

It was the first time we practiced together in front of so many people, and the atmosphere was subtle and professional.

In the brightly lit rehearsal room, the dance teacher explained the choreography while Qingfeng and his manager, Jingjing, sat in chairs against the wall, scrutinizing every detail. The other BOW members practiced their parts on the other side, their eyes constantly glancing over.

The choreographer's duet sequence was filled with powerful and emotional tension. There were close juxtapositions, rapid spins and lifts, and even more story-filled chases and gazes. As the music started, Feng Ling quickly got into the groove, her years of dance training making her immune to stage fright. However, when An Hesu's hand first firmly placed itself on her waist, guiding her through a spin, a subtle electric current suddenly shot through her spine.

His touch was expertly controlled, with the strength and stability expected of a dancer. But his gaze was more focused and penetrating than ever before. As he performed a move that required close eye contact, his deep gaze locked onto hers, no longer the cold, distant presence he'd worn on stage, but a quiet, almost drawn-in vortex.

"Here, Nyan, your eyes should tell more stories. Not just cool, but with restrained desire." The dance teacher instructed from the side.

An Hesu nodded slightly, and when he looked at Feng Ling again, his eyes were indeed filled with some indescribable complex emotions, as if he was really staring at a treasure that had been lost and found again.

The teammates beside him couldn't help but whisper to each other:

"Wow, Nyan's eyes are so dramatic today."

"It seems that he has softened a bit, not as cold as usual."

The manager, Sister Jingjing, also raised her eyebrows slightly and whispered to Qingfeng, "This kid is in good spirits today. It's rare to see him get into the mood so quickly."

Feng Ling could sense the scrutinizing gazes around her, but she forced herself to ignore them, focusing entirely on the movements and the music. However, Ankhsu's occasional displays of subtle attention, beyond the scope of rehearsal, kept her from completely calming down. For example, after she finished a move that required core explosiveness, he would calmly kick the water bottle on the ground closer to her feet. When she was slightly out of breath from repeatedly practicing a lift, he would say, in a voice only the two of them could hear, "Take a break."

These subtle actions were simply a "miracle" in the eyes of his teammates and staff who were familiar with his usually indifferent style.

***

When the others took a break or went to practice other sections, and only the two of them were left in the rehearsal room, working on the details in front of the mirror, the invisible tension grew exponentially.

The air seemed to become thicker.

The atmosphere reached its climax when practicing the most crucial and dramatic ending pose - the kiss.

The choreography is: Feng Ling is pulled back into his arms after a spin, he strokes her face, lowers his head and approaches, with the tips of their noses almost touching, and when their lips are the last centimeter away, he turns his head sideways, creating an extremely realistic borrowed position effect.

The first time she practiced this move, as the music progressed, Feng Ling was pulled into his powerful arms. His tall figure loomed over her, carrying the warmth of exercise and the refreshing scent of sweat. He lowered his head, and his unparalleled handsome face rapidly enlarged before her eyes. His deep eyes held her gaze like a magnet. Their warm breaths mingled, and they were so close that she could clearly see every single one of his long, thick eyelashes.

The moment their lips were about to "touch," Feng Ling's heart raced, nearly bursting from her chest. She could clearly feel his hand tightening slightly on her back, his Adam's apple rolling, and his breath noticeably catching. In that moment, time seemed to stretch infinitely, and the air was filled with a dangerous, alluring ambiguity. Finally, his lips brushed the edge of her cheek, bringing a subtle shudder.

"Very good! The emotions are very good!" The dance teacher applauded from the outside.

The two of them quickly separated. Feng Ling's cheeks flushed, and she subconsciously turned away, not daring to look at him. Meanwhile, An Hesu raised his hand to touch the tip of his nose, then turned to get some water. He seemed calm, but the slightly reddened roots of his ears betrayed that he was not completely unmoved.

During the break, the two of them leaned against the mirror wall to drink water. To ease the awkwardness, Feng Ling casually started a conversation: "Your hair color is quite nice. The flaxen gold color suits you very well."

An Hesu turned to look at her, a faint smile flashing in his eyes: "I've been drifting several times, and it's a little hurt."

"It's not easy to be an idol." Feng Ling sighed.

"Yeah." He responded, and after a moment of silence, he suddenly asked, "Whose choreography did you like the most in Xihe?"

The question unexpectedly had a personal, nostalgic flavor. Feng Ling paused for a moment before answering, "Of course it's Qiqi... His choreography is the most touching."

At the mention of this name, the atmosphere between the two of them subtly froze for a moment. An Hesu said nothing more, simply tilting his head back and taking a large sip of water. His Adam's apple rolled as he swallowed, and the lines of his face seemed a little tense.

After a while, he seemed to suddenly remember something and took out an individually wrapped sandwich from his backpack and handed it to her: "You didn't eat much at noon."

Feng Ling looked at him in surprise - he actually noticed that she had hastily finished her lunch because of the lifting movements she needed to do.

"Thank you..." She took it, feeling a complicated warmth in her heart.

In these moments of solitude, Ankhsu's cold exterior seemed to melt away. He would nod slightly at her successful complex maneuvers, reach out to steady her when she nearly stumbled, and remember her casual remark, "You didn't bring enough water," and silently grab an extra bottle the next time they took a break.

He still didn't talk much, but all his attention and actions were precisely focused on her. This silent and meticulous protection was completely different from his cool and domineering idol image on stage, but it was more real and more touching.

Rehearsals dragged on day after day. Every physical contact, every eye contact, every brief moment of solitude was like a quietly surging undercurrent beneath the ice, gathering strength, waiting for the moment to break through. And the much-anticipated music festival, carrying all these hidden emotions and expectations, drew closer.