Before they departed, Master Yuan sought her out for a private word, sternly reminding her to take the upcoming performance seriously, no matter what.
Group Three's choreography, from its concept to its design, was on a completely different level than Group One's. She told her that their real competition was the other troupes. As long as they performed up to their usual standard, the piece Teacher Su had created for them was good enough that Group One had a shot at making the finals.
Master Yuan also warned her not to get any funny ideas, even if they missed this opportunity. Above all, she was not to try any more of her little tricks on Xia Zhaoyun. That woman was a vixen who had honed her craft for a thousand years; a delicate-looking flower like her stood no chance.
Jie Xiaoqin understood. In the face of absolute talent, all underhanded schemes were nothing but fragile bubbles.
Xia Zhaoyun had already reached a level she could never hope to attain.
