Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Exclusion
Half a month later.
In Baicheng, near the commercial district’s grand theater, in a two-story tiled brick building, in a dance studio.
More than ten girls dressed in various skirts are practicing dance under the guidance of a middle-aged teacher. The teacher moves skillfully, slowing down her actions, but not everyone can keep up; only two or three girls manage to follow her movements.
One plump girl clumsily fumbles with her hands, realizing she is two beats behind her partners, which makes her anxious, and she speeds up. In the end, she tumbles to the ground like an elephant trying to balance on one foot, yelping heavily as she falls.
The middle-aged teacher, who is called “Master Ke” by Jima, turns her head, displaying a look of impatience and says:
“Stop, stop. We’ve been practicing this simple dance for four days now. I’ve taught each movement step by step; how come you still can’t grasp it, not even maintaining the most basic balance?”
The plump girl, her face flushed, stands up and says, “Teacher, I’m sorry.”
A few girls nearby surround her; this plump girl is the one among the group who is cared for and pitied. They start defending her:
“Teacher, she’s trying really hard.”
“You teach too fast.”
“Only three of us can keep up with your steps.”
Master Ke raises an eyebrow and asks, “Is that so? When I was young, I learned this in three days. Just look at Xiao Qiao.”
As she speaks, Master Ke points toward the other side of the dance studio, where Jima, dressed in a white gauzy skirt, with long legs covered in white tights and an enviably beautiful face, is elegantly bending at the waist, perfectly showcasing her graceful curves.
She keeps a distance from the other girls, an invisible barrier separating her from the rest of the class.
Master Ke says:
“She learned it in half a day, which was the least troublesome for me. I’ve even started teaching her more complicated dances. As long as I demonstrate once, she picks it up; if she doesn’t understand, she asks me directly and learns immediately. If you don’t have her talent, you need to work harder; even putting in half the effort I did when I was young would keep you from falling.”
The plump girl is left blushing and silent. The other girls wear displeased expressions, unable to find reasons to argue back. No matter how jealous or blind they were, they had to admit that Jima’s dance talent was as perfect as her looks.
A few girls glare at Jima with resentment.
No one wants to talk to Jima, and no one wants to get close to her.
They have agreed that no one is allowed to speak to Jima, insisting on excluding this girl who doesn’t fit in.
While others are clumsily practicing a move or two, she begins to leap into the air, showcasing her graceful figure. She doesn’t learn alongside the others, dancing alone, resting alone, eating alone, and seeking the teacher alone.
Whenever she has a question, no matter the circumstance, the teacher will pause, patiently answer, and watch her movements.
However, they intentionally or unintentionally ignore one point: Jima has used gold coins to buy Master Ke’s promise for individual tutoring.
Finally noticing someone watching her, Jima turns her face and opens her “desire eyes,” seeing that most of the girls around have a pink vortex symbolizing jealousy in their chests, even more vivid than the day before.
What a hassle, interrupting my train of thought. Master Ke is boasting again, dragging me out to be a target.
Jima puts her hands down and sweetly smiles at Master Ke, saying, “Teacher, to be honest, you do teach a bit fast; normal people can’t keep up.”
Master Ke, seemingly uninterested in talking, replies to the other girls with a compromise tone, “Alright, I’ll slow down the movements from now on, you can rest first.”
The girls immediately gather in a group, moving to the farthest corner from Jima to chat and occasionally stealing glances at her.
“Just now, she looked so smug, as if she pitied us.”
The leader, a girl with red hair, says, “Doesn’t that just confirm she knows she’s abnormal?”
The red-haired girl, who is quite pretty and dances better than the majority, comes from a decent family and vaguely becomes a leader within the girls’ circle.
The girls burst into laughter at this little joke.
“She’s so proud, looking down on our plump one. I saw her smile just when our plump one fell.”
Hearing this, the plump girl shows a very sad expression, pouting as if she might cry.
“Don’t be upset, Pummy,” a girl quickly comforts her, “Don’t let her slender and pretty exterior fool you; she’s just a bitch, clearly looking down on you while pretending to speak up for us.”
“Yeah,” another girl reassures, “A woman like her, with only a pretty face but no substance, with a vicious soul, is just shallow.”
“Thank you.”
The plump girl finally smiles.
On the other side.
Although Jima cannot hear their conversation, just one glance at the sea of pink jealousy makes her understand that her previous comment didn’t do any good.
“What a hassle, now I have to provoke jealousy one by one; why isn’t there a group reverse provocation skill?”
Jima slightly moves her pinky finger, suppressing one girl’s pink jealousy vortex, noticing there are still a dozen more, feeling completely overwhelmed.
“It’s like finally managing to eat a piece of fatty meat, and then looking again to see there’s still a whole plate left to digest.”
Jima lets her finger down, realizing this is the fifth time she has had to suppress these women’s jealousy.
“Forget it, I can’t be bothered. They’re just a bunch of kids; when they provoke me, I’ll take them all down with one blow.”
Jima can’t be bothered with them and doesn’t want to please them. After all, this group of girls is of no use to her, and even the prettiest among them isn’t appealing enough to make her take the initiative to pursue.
At that moment, a man wearing a red triangular hat, tall and slim with a fierce expression, shouts at the window:
“Hey, Teacher Ke, come out quickly! Why are your students still dancing here? Hurry up and find another place!”
Master Ke immediately puts on a smile and jogs over, saying, “Don’t be in such a hurry; isn’t it good to rent to me all the time?”
The man in the red triangular hat shifts his gaze from Jima to Master Ke and says, “Today is the deadline. I don’t care if you found a place or not; I won’t renew the lease. You have to take them away today, or I’ll kick them out.”
Master Ke wears a forced smile, extending one finger, “There’s nowhere else good in the city for the students to practice dancing. How about I add ten percent to the rent?”
The man in the red triangular hat also extends one finger and says, “That’s the figure.”
“How much?”
“Double.”
“You’re just making unreasonable demands.”
“Either pay the rent or get your students out of here fast.”
Jima overhears everything.
I just wanted a decent place to practice dancing. Sigh, if I had money to buy a house with a manor, I wouldn’t have so many troubles. But to buy it, I’d also need a butler and a slew of servants; the thought alone is exhausting.
She doesn’t want to move elsewhere; after all, the restroom environment here is very good, and it’s unlikely other places will have such a good setup.
Jima walks elegantly to the window and gives the man in the red hat a slight smile, saying, “Maybe I can persuade you.”
Then, Jima and the man in the red triangular hat exit together.
Ten minutes later, with the help of some charm, the man in the red triangular hat readily signed a three-year lease while insisting on halving the rent, but was refused by Jima.
Master Ke beams with joy as she holds the signed contract. Out of ten sentences she says, three are praises for Jima, which makes the girls even more displeased, casting glances at the sweating Jima.
This time, Jima chooses not to stop Master Ke.
After another break, when the girls go to the restroom in pairs, they start criticizing a certain wicked and despicable succubus again:
“She’s so hypocritical, last time she put on a show, and this time she doesn’t even bother.”
“It shows that she was really hypocritical last time,” one girl asserts, “This time she must be enjoying Master Ke’s flattery and flaunting it in front of us.”
The red-haired girl says, “Did you see that man? He’s so fierce and lewd, definitely a street thug. Maybe Xiao Qiao went out with him to let him have his way before agreeing to help her.”
“I remember Xiao Qiao went out with that man for a long time.”
“About half an hour, right?”
The red-haired girl laughs, “Then they might be looking for a secluded spot to have a little fun. I heard the theater next door has plenty of suitable spots.”
Under the guidance of the leading sister, the girls further delve into their in-depth criticisms of Jima’s lewdness.
After a group had taken care of their business on the way back.
The red-haired girl recalls that the plump girl hasn’t spoken much ill of Jima and says, “Pummy, why don’t you share your thoughts on Xiao Qiao?”
“I… think she’s so much prettier than me.”
“What’s with the self-deprecation? Be bold, your soul is far nobler than hers.”
The plump girl, with thick lips, stammers but ultimately remains silent, keeping her head down.
The red-haired girl shakes her head.
They reach the staircase and see a stranger, a young man standing at the door of the dance studio, talking to the black-haired Jima.
Jima puts a round, transparent “green jelly” into a box and hands it back to the acne-faced young man, praising, “You did a great job this time; the purity is high, and the texture is just right.” Perfect for making a fleshlight.
Jima is very attentive to this person who can help her project.
The acne-faced young man blushes, the acne on his face seeming to flush as he says:
“I’ve never met anyone who praises me like this before.”
Jima pulls out her purse, “Here’s your payment; there are five gold coins inside.”
His eyes reflect Jima’s lovely figure, filled with admiration: “No need, just seeing you is enough for me.”
Jima feels her scalp tingle, as if the acne on the young man’s face is grazing her own.
She coldly replies, “Take it.”
The acne-faced young man can only accept the purse.
Jima isn’t interested in an inexplicable admirer unless it’s a pretty girl.
He hesitates, rummaging through his pocket, and takes out a delicate jewelry box, trembling as he hands it to Jima, summoning his courage to say:
“I’ve kept your money; I thought these earrings would match your hair color and your beauty perfectly.”
Do I look that easy to pursue?
Jima replies, “I don’t accept gifts.”
“I won’t ask for anything in return.”
Jima directly pushes his hand away, saying, “I said I don’t accept it. I don’t want this thing affecting your progress in jelly-making, understand?”
The acne-faced young man stares at her, saying:
“This is my savings—”
“No matter how hard you try, you won’t get a chance; I only care about the jelly.” Jima smiles, “By the way, how’s the jelly mold coming along?”
