My cousin asked me to go to Wuha, and Hanikezi stuck to me.

Chen Yi stared at the crooked handwriting on the note and stood at the alley entrance without taking a step.

As dusk enveloped the old street, leaving only its outline, red warning lights flickered on the distant tower cranes against the gray-blue sky.

He turned down the brightness of his phone screen and read the line of text again.

"Dad, come home quickly! I've mastered the third set of dance steps Mom taught me."

The handwriting was crooked and messy, with the lower half of the character "舞" squeezed together and the strokes stuck together.

That eagerness was palpable even through the screen.

He saved the photos, draped his coat over his shoulder, and walked out of the alley.

Back at the base, producer Lao Zhou was distributing boxed lunches in the yard.

Seeing him come over, Old Zhou handed him a portion.

"Director Chen, our schedule for tomorrow is booked until 3 PM, then we can wrap up. The day after tomorrow we're shooting a panoramic aerial shot of the old street, but the weather forecast says there are clouds, so the lighting might be unstable."

We'll decide based on the lighting conditions at the site the day after tomorrow.

Chen Yi took the boxed lunch, picked up his chopsticks, picked up a mouthful of food, and swallowed.

"Old Zhou, my daughter's school is having a performance at the end of the month, so I have to go back to Beijing."

"Which day?"

"The 29th. I took an early morning flight back that day, and after watching it, I took a night flight back to the crew."

Old Zhou was counting the days on his fingers, calculating the filming schedule.

"We have an indoor backup play scheduled for the 29th, so we can adjust it without any problems. You can go without worry."

"Book the first flight to Beijing, and the last flight back."

"All done."

After finishing his meal, Chen Yi went back to his room, took a shower, and sat on the edge of the bed to call Hanikezi.

"Is your daughter asleep yet?"

"I just managed to coax him, but he tossed and turned in bed for half an hour before he finally closed his eyes."

Hanikezi's voice sounded tired.

"I was so into rehearsing today that I was still gesturing with my hands under the covers even after I lay down."

"Has the program been decided?"

"It's settled. It's a two-minute solo dance with a simple choreography. The opening and closing poses were specially chosen, and she selected the music herself."

Which song did you choose?

"A guzheng piece, 'Fisherman's Song at Dusk.' She said it sounded like flowing water, and when she danced to it, she felt like her body was flowing along with it."

Chen Yi leaned his back against the headboard.

"Who taught her to use these words?"

"No one taught her. Sometimes I can't even keep up with the words in your daughter's head. Last time after practice, she squatted on the ground to catch her breath, tilted her head up and told me, 'Dancing is about letting your body speak, keeping your mouth closed, and letting your arms and legs speak for you.'"

"That's much better said than her essay."

"Don't bring that up again."

Chen Yi chuckled softly.

"I'll take some time to fly back on the 29th."

There was a brief pause on the other end of the receiver.

"Won't the film crew be delayed?"

"Old Zhou has changed the schedule, so it won't cause any problems."

"Where are you planning to sit? There aren't many rows of seats in the small auditorium. If you sit in the front row, all the parents will have to turn around to look at you, and your daughter will definitely be distracted on stage."

I sat in the last row, corner.

"Okay, make sure your baseball cap and mask are on properly."

"clear."

"There is another matter."

Hanikezi slowed her tone.

"My daughter didn't know you were coming back; I didn't mention it to her."

"How can you keep it a secret?"

"I was afraid that if she knew you were coming, she would be so busy looking for people in the audience that she would miss the beat. That girl is so easily distracted; if she knew her father was in the audience beforehand, she would definitely be distracted."

Chen Yi pondered for a moment.

"I'll do as you say, I'll go find her after the show."

"Focus on filming your movie. I'll keep an eye on things here on the 29th."

After hanging up the phone, Chen Yi set his alarm for 4:30 a.m.

I need to catch the first flight on the 29th.

The filming progressed smoothly for the first few days.

Chen Yi oversees on-site coordination during the day and returns to his room at night to verify materials.

I occasionally take a moment to ask Hanikezi about her rehearsal progress, and her replies are always concise and to the point.

"I did the whole routine twice today. The first time, my body swayed a little at the end of the freeze-frame, but I stabilized it the second time."

"Is the beat accurate?"

"She hits the keys pretty well, but she's still a bit rusty when she changes the key. She'll get used to it after a few more tries."

At 5 a.m. on the 29th, Chen Yi boarded a car heading to the airport.

Before dawn, the fields on both sides of the road were a dark mass, and the headlights cut straight beams of light.

The flight took off at 7:00 AM and landed smoothly at Beijing Capital International Airport at 9:40 AM.

He didn't go back to his residence, but took a taxi straight to the primary school.

A large red banner hung at the school gate, bearing the words "Arts and Culture Performance".

Parents walked in in groups of three or five, some carrying flowers, others holding gimbal cameras.

Chen Yi pulled his hat brim down and his mask down over his nose as he followed the flow of people into the auditorium.

The auditorium was not spacious, with only twelve rows of seats.

The first eight rows were already full, with parents whispering among themselves and holding up their phones to point at the front desk.

He walked straight to the last row and sat down on the far right.

This corner is the furthest from the countertop, so the lines are completely unobstructed.

Once the lights inside the stadium dimmed, the figures in the last row were completely hidden in the shadows.

He took out his phone, silenced it, and adjusted the camera angle and lens.

The performance started promptly at 10:00 AM.

The first part was a chorus and a poetry recitation. The children, dressed in neat white shirts, stood in two rows, their singing voices young but energetic.

Chen Yi leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers lightly on his knees in rhythm.

The announcement for the fourth program came from the speakers.

"Next, please enjoy the solo dance 'Fishermen's Song at Dusk', performed by Chen Ruolin."

Chen Yi paused for a moment.

The stage lights went out, leaving only a spotlight shining in the center.

The daughter slowly stepped out from behind the curtain.

She wore a light green gauze dress, her ponytail was tied neatly, and her wisps of hair were clipped to her forehead.

She wore soft white cloth shoes, the surface of which was spotless.

She walked to the center of the spotlight and stood still.

Feet together, knees slightly bent, spine straight and extended segment by segment.

Her starting stance was exactly the same as the one her mother had taught her that night.

The sound of the zither flowed from the speaker, the first few notes clear and bright.

The girl raised both arms horizontally from her waist, stopping at shoulder level.

Palms down, fingers lightly tapped.

It's like holding up a handful of drifting clouds.

Chen Yi held the phone steadily.

The figures in the shot appear somewhat distant, yet their outlines are distinct.

As the melody quickened, the girl's figure moved accordingly.

Push your forearm forward, causing your upper body to lean forward half a step.

With hands clasped together, slowly stretch them out.

Her movements are not particularly skillful and cannot be compared to those of professionally trained dancers.

But she put a lot of effort into every move, even the range of motion of her fingertips.

As the music reached the key change, the plucking of the strings suddenly changed from slow to fast.

The girl immediately caught up with the rhythm.

She stopped and began to turn.

He started by spinning, his body swaying slightly, but his footwork remained steady.

She spun around, steadied herself, and her skirt billowed up, the light green tulle shimmering softly in the light.

The spins faster and faster, the center of gravity settles very steadily, and the soft-soled shoes make a soft rustling sound on the wooden floor.

After spinning several times, the zither's sound began to vibrato, and the lingering notes faded away.

The girl stopped in her tracks.

The pose is frozen in time to conclude.

Raise your right hand along the shoulder line, with your fingertips pointing upwards and your palm flat.

Bend your left leg and turn your body slightly to the side.

Set in place.

The spotlight shone perfectly over her face.

The entire hall fell silent for two breaths.

Chen Yi stared at her through the screen.

The frozen expression made his breath catch in his throat.

Her small face tilted up to face the light, her lips pressed tightly together, her eyes wide open, her pupils filled with the glow of the overhead light.

Without joy or sorrow, it is a kind of indescribable clarity and composure.

Everything around her was no longer relevant to her.

She stood firmly in that pillar of light, not going anywhere.

Chen Yi had seen this kind of charm before.

It wasn't on the daughter's face, but on Hanikezi's face.

When Hanikezi performed her final solo dance at the premiere of "Echo," she was perfectly positioned in the center of the beam of light.

That frozen moment attracted a flurry of camera shots, and it graced the covers of more than a dozen publications.

Focused, calm, and free from distractions.

Her expression was exactly the same as her mother's frozen pose on the stage at the premiere of "Echoes".