An 80s female translator was spoiled rotten by a rough and jealous man.

Chapter 359 Even More Important!

The two locked the door and walked out of the auditorium together. On their way back to the apartment building, they strolled leisurely with unhurried steps.

It's worth mentioning that he openly held her hand, a rare occurrence, and didn't let go the whole way, holding it tightly, as if he wasn't afraid of "causing a bad impression." Men's thoughts can be quite unpredictable sometimes.

Huo Qingshan took her hand with one hand and carried the bag containing the dance dress and the cake box with the other, asking the question that had been bothering him: "Is this your secret exercise these past few days?"

"Yes." Meng Youyou turned her head and smiled, "Do you like it?"

"I like it." Huo Qingshan nodded without hesitation and said sincerely, "You dance so well, so beautifully. Did you study for a long time before?"

"Yes, from elementary school to adulthood."

"Why haven't I heard you mention this before?"

"When I was in the first year of high school, I had a problem with my knee and had surgery. The postoperative results were not very good, so I stopped jumping."

Upon hearing this, the man lowered his gaze and glanced at her legs. Huo Qingshan's profession meant he frequently encountered various injuries, and based on his experience, he had never noticed any signs of post-operative complications in her legs. Huo Qingshan was somewhat puzzled: "Why?"

Meng Youyou guessed what the other person was thinking and first reassured them, "Don't overthink it, it's nothing serious and won't affect your normal life at all. It's just that you can't meet the physical requirements of a professional dancer."

Then she answered his question: "I used to think that no matter how I jump now, I can't jump as well as before, so I didn't want to jump anymore." Meng Youyou said casually.

Logically speaking, dance students shouldn't have such poor physical stamina. The problem lies in the less-than-successful surgery and the long recovery period, which weakened Meng Youyou's physical condition.

Therefore, it is not easy to pick up her "old profession" again after many years. Meng Youyou has worked hard for the past half month. She chose a dance piece with a low difficulty level, which is good for viewing. The final result is so-so.

Meng Youyou wasn't born disliking sports. How much could someone who loves dancing hate sports? It's just that she understands her physical condition better than anyone else—she underwent nearly six years of continuous rehabilitation training. In fact, by the third year, Meng Youyou's confidence in returning to the stage had been almost completely exhausted. At that time, she had already been admitted to university, studying a major that ordinary students could apply for, which had nothing to do with dance.

Gradually, she began to hate the feeling she had during high-intensity exercise—a feeling that only she could clearly and intensely sense was that her leg's strength, ligaments, coordination, and joint control were all "lacking" in every aspect. Ballet is a demanding art form where "a little bit off makes a big difference," and this brought her a deep sense of frustration—as if repeatedly reminding her: "Meng Youyou, you can never dance again!"

Humans are truly contradictory. She continued her rehabilitation training, even though there was no improvement for a long time, she was unwilling to give up. It was as if making the decision to give up would render all her past efforts a joke, and she would become a weakling willing to compromise. But until she returned to her ideal physical condition, Meng Youyou was almost obsessively unwilling to dance in front of anyone, because that wasn't her best side, not her highest level. She couldn't dance well anymore.

She could neither accept failure nor change the status quo through hard work, putting herself in an awkward situation where she could neither move forward nor backward.

Meng Youyou began dancing at a young age, enduring much hardship and gaining countless accolades. From age five to sixteen, ballet occupied more than half of her life, becoming a crucial part of her existence. Along the way, the most frequent comments she heard were: "Your figure is a natural for dancing!" "You're the most talented student I've ever taught!" "You'll be winning awards left and right in the future!"... However, the last time Meng Youyou heard such comments was from her ballet teacher's unintentional sigh: "Such a promising talent, it's such a pity."

A seemingly innocuous remark became a thorn in Meng Youyou's heart, and it has never been pulled out.

Perhaps in everyone's heart, there are always one or two special things that cannot be treated lightly, whose standards cannot be lowered, and whose existence cannot be accepted as something others would say is "a pity." Meng Youyou has a stubbornness about ballet that is completely incomprehensible to others, and in recent years, she has refused to reveal this part of her inner world to anyone.

As a result, she stopped dancing and even deliberately avoided any sports that required high-intensity leg use. Apart from regular rehabilitation programs, Meng Youyou was almost completely cut off from exercise.

So much so that almost everyone who met her after university generally considered Meng Youyou a complete "sports loser," given that she consistently ranked last in physical fitness tests. If you were to suddenly tell them that Meng Youyou had practiced dance for over a decade, they would be astonished, exclaiming, "Impossible! Are you kidding me?" Liao Zisheng would be the first to jump out and retort, "Don't be ridiculous! She was a prodigy who took Go as an elective in university physical education!"

The harsh reality is that no matter how much longer she continues rehabilitation, her leg will likely never improve further, let alone fully recover. Unless a miracle occurs, she is destined never to dance again, never.

The idea of ​​"dancing in front of him" came to her because his birthday was coming up soon, and Meng Youyou was thinking about what gift to give him. She racked her brains, but couldn't come up with a satisfactory idea. He wasn't someone who cared much about material things. This was the first birthday she would celebrate with him, and Meng Youyou wanted to give him a "wow" gift—the kind that would still make her heart flutter when she thought about it at eighty.

On a sunny afternoon, Meng Youyou walked into an alley to buy some famous roasted chestnuts. There was a dance studio on the corner of the alley. Through a transparent glass wall, she could see a group of girls who were learning to dance with their teacher.

She suddenly remembered that she had promised him that she would dance for him.

As for truly confirming this idea, it was one evening when he took her for a run. He was running backwards in front of her, and she was running behind him, panting heavily. Seeing that she was having trouble breathing, he slowed down and started walking backwards, asking her, "You seem to really dislike running. Do you have any other sports that you like? I can do them with you."

"If it's a project you enjoy, you won't find it as a difficult or painful task to do."

A bead of sweat slid down her forehead. She looked up and met his eyes, paused for a moment, and then said, "Let me think about it. I should have some. I'll tell you when I think of something."

Finally, she added, "You have to come with me."

"Okay." He readily agreed.

Making this decision was not difficult, even somewhat easy, as if a "dead knot" that had been stubbornly tied up for years had been easily cut off.

Just like dancing, it no longer carries the special meaning that she forcibly attached to it, but is simply "a sport you like" in his words.

Upon closer examination, it's even illogical and nonsensical—he didn't offer a perfect solution to the pain points you once cared about so much; he didn't even provide any related answers, and he was completely unaware of your secret. But in that moment, the instant your eyes met his, for no apparent reason, you suddenly felt that all those things you had been holding onto were no longer important.

It wasn't that you untied it; rather, after cutting it, you gently put it down.

It seems that it's more important to get healthy sooner rather than later; it seems that it's more important for him not to worry about you getting sick all the time; it seems that when he runs with you, he sees you exhausted and his eyes are full of heartache. If only he could turn that heartache into appreciation.

"Hey, find a sport you like, and I'll exercise with you," someone said to her. She felt a longing in her heart at his words; she was genuinely tempted. Meng Youyou thought it sounded really good—why not do it?

Although the Meng Youyou who agreed to dance for him had never had surgery on her right leg, at this time, beneath the shallow scars on the skin of Meng Youyou's knees were several deep scars several centimeters deep.

When she dances on the stage of the auditorium, she inevitably thinks of herself when every movement was so effortless, inevitably makes comparisons, and inevitably feels a sense of loss because of the obvious difference between the two.

Under the streetlights, the man suddenly stopped in his tracks. He turned to the side and looked at her with a complicated expression. Huo Qingshan seemed to want to say something but hesitated.

"What?" Meng Youyou laughed nonchalantly, then quickly stopped her, saying, "Don't try to comfort me. I've seen you get pinned to the ground and beaten to a pulp by those greenhorns."

Huo Qingshan: "..."

He couldn't help but defend himself, saying, "It's not as bad as you make it out to be, is it?"

Meng Youyou laughed loudly: "No, no."

After laughing for a while, he continued, "Why don't you ask me why I didn't want to dance for so long before, but am willing to dance today?"

Huo Qingshan didn't speak for a moment. He pulled her to sit down on a nearby bench, then looked at her very seriously and said, "Oh, I really think you danced beautifully today. It's the most beautiful dance I've ever seen. I'm so happy that you were willing to dance for me. I think this is a gift, the most precious gift I've ever received. I think you must have put a lot of thought into preparing this. I really like today's birthday, I especially like it. I also like the cake. I will always remember today and the way you danced."

Oh, it seems he knows why, so he's not that stupid!

"There's no need to be so serious," Meng Youyou pouted. "Let's just take it easy. It's not like I'm only doing this once and there won't be a next time. Didn't someone promise me they'd do the sport I like with me?"

The man paused for a moment, "Dance...ballet?" He belatedly realized what he had promised, and a chill ran down his spine.

"What are you thinking about?" Meng Youyou glanced at him: "I asked you to stay with me, not to jump with me."

There is someone who appears in your life, and slowly, you are willing to take off all your pretenses without any defenses, and only want to share with this person the pride that I once carefully protected behind the glamorous facade, and the vulnerabilities that I once thought were remarkable, not respectable, and that I would not let anyone see.

Now, I am willing to lay them out before you.

We agreed to exchange sincerity for sincerity.

To fulfill your wish—"I hope you're healthy"—I gently let go of my obsession. Seeing your happy and touched face, I no longer find facing failure so terrifying. I've gained something far more precious: I've gained so much courage; I'm afraid of nothing. Let's continue holding hands and moving forward together. I truly look forward to seeing what kind of scenery awaits us ahead.

Huo Qingshan scratched the back of his head and answered her affirmatively, "No problem, it's a deal."

The two of them, taking things as they came, sat down on the bench and looked at the moon overhead for a while. The moon was neither crescent nor full, hanging high in the night sky, yet the moonlight was exceptionally beautiful. The autumn breeze felt pleasant on their faces, and they felt good too.

Meng Youyou tilted her head slightly and leaned on his shoulder, suddenly understanding the meaning of his words, "Everywhere is fine."

Isn't it true that everywhere is good?

We chatted idly, and it felt nice when we weren't talking. When we figured it was getting late, we reluctantly got up from the bench.

As they walked along the path near the apartment building, he suddenly blurted out, "Why don't you come back and check on our training in a couple of days?"

"Why? Your training programs are always the same old things. I can't watch what I'm not allowed to watch, and even what I am allowed to watch gets boring after a while."

“I’m a little better than before,” he said softly, staring at the road beneath his feet.

Meng Youyou chuckled upon hearing this: "Oh, why are you so concerned about saving face? You lost once, and you're still thinking about getting revenge every day?"

"What? Is Battalion Commander Huo trying to salvage his glorious image in my eyes?" she teased casually.

After a long while, Huo Qingshan gave a low "hmm".