Chapter 34: The brightest star in the night sky

Zhang Zihan’s heatstroke symptoms quickly eased under Zheng Yangyang’s care, but a new “symptom” had appeared in his heart, and it seemed to be getting worse.

During break, Zheng Yangyang was the first to return to the girls’ line.

Zhang Zihan sat in the shade, his eyes following her through the flow of students returning to their spots.

There was a light in his eyes that was hard to describe.

“Han Ge, are you okay?”

Li Tong, who hadn’t returned to line yet, waved a hand in front of his eyes.

“Did the heatstroke make you stupid?”

“Scram.”

Zhang Zihan brushed his hand away and kept staring in Zheng Yangyang’s direction.

Li Tong followed his gaze and suddenly understood.

“Oh—you’re done for, Han Ge. You’ve fallen.”

“Fallen? Fallen my ass? Watch your mouth!”

Zhang Zihan blushed, his voice rising an octave.

“Then why are you always staring at Yang Ge?”

“Tsk, who’s looking at her! Can’t I just space out?”

Zhang Zihan turned his head away, pretending not to care.

Li Tong rolled his eyes, smiled, and went back to the line, too lazy to deal with him.

Zhang Zihan really couldn’t explain how he felt.

When it came to pretty girls, he had seen plenty, and he was willing to get close to them, but he never felt anything special.

But this “Yang Ge”—at first he wanted to see her get mad after being given that nickname, but she had digested it incredibly fast.

Even when she threw “Zihan Sister” back at him, he could tell it wasn’t out of revenge.

Not to mention that “Yang Ge” had even used a wet towel to wipe his neck and face.

Her smooth, practiced movements showed absolutely no awareness of gender boundaries.

It didn’t seem fake—it was like an older sister taking care of her little brother…

But clearly she looked so pure and cute… Cute and mature—could they really combine?

This question circled in his mind several times before he reached a conclusion:

‘As expected, Yang Ge isn’t an ordinary girl.’

The afternoon military training was more varied.

Besides standing at attention, there were formation drills, turns in place, marching steps, and so on.

Zheng Yangyang was practically a dimensionality reduction strike in this part.

The drill instructor’s commands—she never made a mistake, always executed perfectly, and could even march with the air of a parade.

“Zheng Yangyang, step forward!”

The instructor’s eyes lit up.

“Give everyone a demonstration!”

Zheng Yangyang walked to the front with her head high and chest out.

Under the instructor’s “beyond the curriculum” commands, she completed all the movements the other students hadn’t learned yet, smoothly and cleanly.

Her three previous military training experiences made formation movements almost instinctive for her—she didn’t need to think at all.

But she also knew she couldn’t show off too much;

After all, she was just a 15-year-old girl.

The instructor was clearly satisfied.

He clapped his hands.

“Alright, return to the line. From now on, you are the formation model. Everyone should learn from classmate Zheng Yangyang!”

When she returned to the line, Zheng Yangyang felt several gazes on her.

Some admiring, some envious, and one—from Lin Weiwei’s direction—with a complicated emotion.

This time, besides disdain, there was also something more like… reluctance to accept?

Zheng Yangyang didn’t think much about it and continued training seriously.

In the evening came the traditional military training activity—learning to sing military songs.

All the new students from the entire grade sat on the track field, arranged in square formations by class.

The instructors stood in front, using megaphones to teach the songs.

“Unity is strength, unity is strength—”

The instructor sang a line, and the students followed.

At first everyone was enthusiastic, but after singing it a few times, it got a bit boring.

After all, these songs were too old and too monotonous.

But Zheng Yangyang didn’t think so.

She was too familiar with these songs.

She had sung them during middle school military training, high school military training, and college military training.

Even later when she worked, her company had sung them at team events.

Moreover, she had sung with her leaders before, and she knew a little about vocal techniques.

She wasn’t professional, but among high school students, she absolutely stood out.

After teaching the song twice, the instructors had each class practice on their own for a while;

There would be a song battle later.

Zheng Yangyang led the class in singing.

The moment she opened her mouth, the classmates around her were stunned.

“Whoa, Yang Ge sings this well too?”

Li Tong was the first to react.

“It’s not just good… how to put it… very powerful?”

Another classmate added.

Wu Chun listened on the side, her eyes shining.

She had known Zheng Yangyang for so long, but this was the first time she heard her sing.

“Yangyang, why didn’t you tell me earlier that you could sing!”

“Ah, singing… anyone can do it…”

Zheng Yangyang smiled modestly.

Soon, the instructor from the neighboring class also noticed the commotion.

“Grade 1, Class 3, give us a song! A song!”

Zheng Yangyang was predictably pushed to the front.

Like a duck forced onto a perch, she had no choice but to tell the instructor and sing a song they hadn’t learned yet—”Returning from Target Practice”—in front of the whole class.

“The sun sets over the western hills with red clouds flying, soldiers return from target practice, back to camp, back to camp—”

Her voice was clear and powerful, her breath steady, her rhythm precise—completely unlike the level of a first-year high school student.

More importantly, her singing had a special appeal that made people want to join in.

Gradually, not only Class 3 but also students from the surrounding classes quieted down to listen.

When she finished the song, thunderous applause erupted on the field, and even whistles.

“Who’s that girl from Class 3? She sings so well!”

“I think she’s their class monitor, called Zheng Yangyang.”

“Wow, she’s also good-looking, and her voice is nice. What kind of heavenly classmate is this!”

Zheng Yangyang heard these comments, her face burning a little, but she felt quite pleased.

After all, when she had sung at company annual parties before, no one had ever praised her so sincerely.

Everyone just clapped half-heartedly and continued drinking.

After the song battle ended, the instructors began organizing talent performances.

“Is there any student willing to come up and show us something?”

The instructor shouted in a hoarse, powerful voice.

“Singing, dancing—it’s all fine. Show yourselves, don’t be shy!”

At first, no one dared to go up.

The atmosphere was a bit cold.

The instructor’s eyes began scanning the crowd and landed on Zheng Yangyang again.

“Zheng Yangyang, give us a performance!”

The entire class acted as if they had found a lifeline, immediately starting a chant:

“Yang Ge! Yang Ge! Yang Ge!”

Zheng Yangyang’s face turned red instantly.

It wasn’t that she couldn’t sing—she just hadn’t expected to be called on.

And she noticed that hundreds of people on the field were all looking this way.

The pressure was immense.

“I-I already sang…” she said quietly.

“Can’t you sing again after singing once? Is there such a rule?”

The instructor was good at livening things up.

“Come on, everyone, give her a round of applause!”

Applause like thunder.

Zheng Yangyang had no choice but to be pushed forward by the enthusiastic crowd.

She thought for a moment and decided to sing a slightly more modern song, to avoid giving everyone the impression that she only knew revolutionary songs.

“Then I’ll sing ‘The Brightest Star in the Night Sky’.”

No intro—she started singing directly.

“The brightest star in the night sky, can you hear—”

The moment she began, the entire field fell silent.

Many involuntarily looked up at the stars in the sky, following the lyrics.

Her voice had a unique texture—clear but with a hint of huskiness, as if telling a story.

Her understanding of the song far exceeded her “15-year-old” age; every word conveyed hope after experiencing the vicissitudes of life.

When she reached the chorus, someone started singing along, then more and more people joined, finally turning into a chorus of dozens—those not singing weren’t unwilling; they just didn’t know the lyrics.

“I pray for a transparent heart and eyes that can cry—”

Zheng Yangyang stood at the front, listening to more and more people behind her singing together.

Especially when they sang “to cross the lies and embrace you,” she felt a tremor in her soul and suddenly felt like crying.

This feeling of being recognized and liked—she had never experienced it before.

When the song ended, the applause and cheers nearly lifted the field.

“Encore! Encore!” Everyone was still hungry for more.

The instructor also laughed and joined in:

“Zheng Yangyang, look how enthusiastic everyone is. How about one more?”

Zheng Yangyang blushed, waved her hands, and quickly sat back in her spot.

But the instructor wasn’t about to let her off.

With a flash of inspiration, she pointed at Wu Chun.

“Instructor, she can dance!”

It wasn’t just to dodge and recommend someone else;

Somehow, after receiving so much praise herself, she felt a little guilty toward Wu Chun.

The students and instructor fell for it, pushing Wu Chun forward.

Wu Chun shot Zheng Yangyang a resentful look and explained to everyone, “I… don’t have a dance partner. I don’t dare to dance.”

The instructor said, “Who will be her partner?”

Wu Chun pointed at Zheng Yangyang.

“She can!”

“Ooh—! Yang Ge again!”

Zheng Yangyang was gently pushed by two girls behind her.

Once again forced into the spotlight, she walked over to Wu Chun with an amused, helpless expression.

In the evening of military training, they were allowed to bring their phones.

Zheng Yangyang asked a classmate to find their BGM.

The music started.

Zheng Yangyang followed Wu Chun and danced a routine they had practiced countless times on the dance machine over summer break.

Even though the venue was the track field without a dance machine, their steps were still perfectly synchronized, movements sharp and clean.

Zheng Yangyang’s dance had a special charm—both feminine grace and a touch of strength and heroic spirit.

Wu Chun, on the other hand, was pure sweet style, and the two complemented each other perfectly on stage.

When they reached a move that required interaction, they stood back to back, then turned simultaneously to face each other.

Their hands rested on each other’s shoulders, bodies moving with the beat.

Moonlight spilled over them, and the two figures seemed to glow.

Zheng Yangyang’s moves were crisp and clean, each turn carried with a valiant decisiveness.

The same move, when Wu Chun performed it, was like a nimble butterfly spinning lightly.

Their steps locked perfectly with the music’s rhythm—one strong, one soft, as if they were born to dance together.

The students on the field were mesmerized, and even the instructor couldn’t help nodding slightly.

Zheng Yangyang looked at Wu Chun, so close, saw the smile and trust in her eyes, and suddenly felt that being a girl wasn’t so bad after all.

For the final move, they both froze simultaneously, striking a cool pose.

The field was silent for a second, then exploded in an unprecedented cheer.

“Aaah! So cool!”

“Two goddesses from Class 3!”

“Twin stars! Twin stars!”

“I want to transfer class!”

When she sat back down on the field, Zheng Yangyang felt her heart still pounding.

Not just from the exhaustion of dancing, but from the feeling of being the center of attention.

She had never thought that one day she would perform in front of hundreds of people, and enjoy it so much.

She and Wu Chun held hands, exchanged a glance, and both laughed behind their hands.

They held each other’s hands even tighter.