###Chapter 106: Winning People Over with Virtue
The mont Anna Aniston spoke, Cecilia Young’s expression soured. "You’re just a lapdog, a total lackey!"
"Say whatever you want. I guess only you are allowed to pull strings, and no one else is. Who do you think you are? Dancing is about who’s best. Besides, with so many of us here, what makes you think you’re the only one who can compete with her? Are the rest of us invisible?" Anna Aniston just couldn’t stand Cecilia Young.
Cecilia Young’s cheeks flushed, and a few of the other girls quickly pulled her back.
"I heard she hasn’t danced at all since graduation. How could she possibly be better than us?" one of the girls said, trying to comfort Cecilia Young.
Nina Wainwright actually wanted to tell Sandra Walsh that a group dance requires a team. If they split into factions, they might not be able to perform it well. But there wasn’t much ti, so they could only try for now and make adjustnts later.
When they started rehearsing, Sandra Walsh would co over to watch them.
Nina Wainwright found an inconspicuous spot and took her position.
"You’ve been studying the story behind this dance for almost a week now. You should all know how to express the emotions required for the performance, right?" Sandra Walsh said, standing before them with a serious expression.
Cecilia Young lifted her chin and replied, "We do."
Once they began, Sandra Walsh watched them dance gracefully. Soon, her gaze fell upon Nina Wainwright.
Nina Wainwright’s flexibility and power were unlike anything she had seen in a long ti. Moreover, her emotions were so rich, and the feeling she conveyed through her movents was incredibly infectious.
She watched for a mont longer, then looked at Cecilia Young and saw that her performance was truly more technique than emotion.
After they ran through it once, Sandra Walsh looked at the group, displeased. "What was that? I told you this dance needs emotional release, but all you’re thinking about is how to make your moves look prettier. There’s no feeling at all! If you can’t get it, go watch more classical dance videos until you find the right feel!"
When criticism was due, it had to be for everyone.
They were a team, after all.
"You need to imagine yourselves as the protagonist of this story. From the initial budding of emotion—that unwilling resignation of wanting sothing you can’t have, the shyness, the longing...to the final transcendent enlightennt she experiences. Stop focusing on technique!" After speaking, Sandra Walsh walked to the side and sat down, adding, "Your performance was very poor."
No one said a word. They all just lowered their heads, looking like they were being scolded.
"I know you’re not happy with Nina Wainwright, but unfortunately, she was the only one who danced well. No matter how displeased you are, today I’m going to have her dance for you so you can see for yourselves." Sandra Walsh had to admit it: talent was talent.
Nina Wainwright had been holding back to match their rhythm, yet she was still good enough to utterly dominate them.
All eyes turned to Nina Wainwright.
Sandra Walsh said, "Nina Wainwright, co out and dance it once. The rest of you, go sit on the side and watch."
Cecilia Young looked utterly unconvinced, grinding her back teeth. Annoyed, she stalked over to a cushion on the side.
Nina Wainwright stood in the center of the dance studio. The mont the music began, she started to dance.
She had her own profound understanding of the dance’s rhythm, knowing exactly when her body should explode with movent and when to hold back. Even Sandra Walsh, as her teacher, couldn’t help but admire her talent.
After she finished, Nina Wainwright breathed lightly as she looked at the others.
The dance studio was silent. After a mont, it was Anna Aniston who broke the silence, clapping. "You’re incredible! Even better than before. Have you been taking advanced classes these past few years?"
’Not advanced classes, no,’ Nina thought, but she had indeed practiced at ho whenever she had free ti, treating it as a way to stay in shape.
Sandra Walsh leaned back in her chair and looked at Cecilia Young. "You seed the most unconvinced by her. What about now?"
After seeing Nina Wainwright’s solo, Cecilia Young of course knew where the gap between them lay.
A heavy sense of defeat washed over her... No matter how hard she worked, she could never match a born dancer like Nina Wainwright.
In any field, people with innate talent could reach heights that hard workers like her simply couldn’t.
She lowered her head, her cheeks burning red.
"This dance isn’t just about the C-position getting the spotlight. It’s a group dance, and every one of you is a protagonist. Even if your position is in the farthest corner, you have to play your part well. It’s just like the core idea of the dance: an ordinary dancing girl, one who goes unnoticed, but who, through a sudden burst of vitality, earns a downward glance and a knowing smile from God, and then ascends to immortality," Sandra Walsh explained gently.
The dance, which Nina Wainwright and Sandra Walsh had adapted together, was a reference to the classic story of "a knowing smile."
But it was a derivative work, so in this version, the flower in the story was given human thoughts.
"The C-position hasn’t been decided yet. I’ll give you all another week," Sandra Walsh said, then turned to Nina Wainwright. "You should teach them more. You’re better than I am at controlling the rhythm and expressing emotion."
Nina Wainwright humd in agreent.
For the rest of the practice, Cecilia Young didn’t say a word, silently competing with Nina Wainwright.
Nina Wainwright, however, didn’t mind.
Cecilia Young was just in her early twenties, an age for pride and ambition. Nina Wainwright was a few years older and had been through so much more, so her mindset was far more stable.
As evening approached, Cecilia Young suddenly cried out.
Nina Wainwright hurried over and saw her sitting on the floor, clutching her leg and silently weeping. Nina couldn’t help but sigh.
’A girl in her early twenties, used to being pampered and adored, suffers a huge blow to her confidence today. Of course she can’t get over it easily,’ she thought.
"What do we do? I think she sprained her ankle!" Anna Aniston said, panicking.
Of course, Cecilia Young could be replaced.
But they had been dancing together for so long. Even though they often argued and got on each other’s nerves, they still shared a deep bond.
Nina Wainwright reached out and pressed Cecilia Young’s ankle.
Cecilia Young just cried harder, sobbing uncontrollably. She hated that she was so powerless, that she couldn’t compare to Nina Wainwright, and she hated that she hadn’t worked harder before when she had so much ti, only to be outshone.
The humiliating sense of defeat made her miserable.
Nina Wainwright gently probed the area and asked softly, "Can you try moving it?"
She used to be the lead dancer under Sandra Walsh and had a lot of experience with sprains.
Crying, Cecilia Young tried to move her ankle, but she quickly winced and started crying again.
Nina Wainwright said to Anna Aniston, who was beside her, "There’s linint for sprains in that cabinet over there. The red bottle. Grab it, quickly."
She took Cecilia Young’s ankle, laid it flat, and gently pressed the area around it with her fingers.
"Luckily, it’s just a minor sprain. I’ll put so linint on it, and then we’ll take you to the hospital to get it checked out," Nina Wainwright told her.
Cecilia Young sniffled, sobbing softly without a word.
Anna Aniston brought the dicine over, and Nina Wainwright helped apply the linint and massaged the area.
After the initial pain subsided, the ambulance arrived.
"It’s probably not a big deal, right? Why does she need to go to the hospital?" a girl asked in a low voice.
Nina Wainwright looked at her and explained patiently, "Whether it’s a problem or not, you have to go to the hospital and follow the doctor’s advice. For a dancer, your body is the most important thing you have."
She went with Cecilia Young to the hospital.
But who would have thought that just as they were getting out of the ambulance, they would run into Zachary Hawthorne.
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