First Battlefield Commander! - Chapter 90
Chapter 90: Thunder
"Stop!" The professor called out, standing up and saying, "Good, good! Go back and prepare properly! Make it more fluid!"
He turned and pointed at several male students: "Look at yourselves, ah, just look at you. All you can do is whimper."
Suddenly inspired, he said: "One person performing might be too monotonous - our stage is quite large after all. How about you teach them, classmate? Let's have everyone join in!"
The crowd: "......"
Zhao Zhuoluo said: "I think a solo performance would be just fine."
Another male student chimed in: "I agree."
Zhao Zhuoluo led the applause.
The students immediately followed suit with enthusiastic clapping.
Professor: "......"
The professor looked at them with disdain and waved his hand: "Alright, alright, go back and prepare. I'll register you. The Materials Academy will provide the weapons - tell them what you need. Handle the background yourselves, don't waste others' efforts."
The students repeatedly acknowledged before eagerly nodding and withdrawing.
Lian Sheng checked her optical computer and noticed Hundred Meter Flying Dagger had sent several messages earlier.
He wrote: "Your Brother Light Bulb has taken leave to go home, so I've decided the whole studio will take a break. I'll contact you after New Year's."
He'd also sent her a red envelope with the message: "Have fun!"
Lian Sheng glanced at the date. It was only mid-December, yet they were taking off until mid-January.
Once again, she viscerally understood how lucrative technical professions could be.
The previously whimpering male student was now laughing with hands on hips: "Our Military Academy will become famous!"
He reached to shake Lian Sheng's hand but was swatted away by another student: "What are you doing? Just admire from afar. She's worth ten credits!"
Another corrected: "Not just ten credits - our Military Academy has over 300 third-year students, so that's over three thousand credits!"
They looked at her as if bathed in holy light, exclaiming in unison: "Over three thousand credits..."
Lian Sheng: "......"
Nearby queuing students looked at them as if they were idiots.
Zhao Zhuoluo said: "Let's go first, find somewhere to sit and discuss properly."
They left the teaching building and found an empty pavilion outside to sit and plan carefully.
Zhao Zhuoluo said: "But the professor was right about one thing - with just one person, the stage would feel too empty. We'll need substantial background elements to compensate."
"I'm self-aware enough to know we can't possibly train to that level in such short time," one male student said. "More people would just create more chaos - we'd be like mouse droppings ruining the porridge. I think we can compensate with modeling. Command Department Class B is happy to help."
The student told Lian Sheng: "We'll use lighting from below to make the shadows clearer. Then we'll capture your movements, synchronize the modeling, control the positioning to create the illusion of an army marching behind you!"
The others clapped in agreement: "That could work."
Lian Sheng nodded along. It sounded impressive.
The male student turned and asked: "As for the background and weapons, Lian Sheng, any thoughts?"
Lian Sheng said: "I'm truly flexible on this. I'll adapt to whatever you decide."
The male student, moved by her cool response, said emotionally: "Then I'll proceed with my vision. I'll write a script for your review, and we'll rehearse a couple times. Shouldn't be a problem."
Lian Sheng only half-understood but continued nodding obligingly.
Everyone leaned on the table, already fantasizing about the glorious scene to come.
"Absolutely unprecedented, I tell you. Ancient martial arts are nearly extinct these days - hardly anyone studies them seriously. Our Military Academy class will become legendary."
"Might be hard for next year's class to top this."
"Who cares about them? We're the seniors now. Life is about growing through challenges. And seniors exist to become one of those life challenges."
Zhao Zhuoluo, sitting nearby, nudged Lian Sheng: "Your score is too low."
"......" Lian Sheng said painfully, "Why must you wound me like this?"
Zhao Zhuoluo: "No, I mean with such low scores, graduating normally might be difficult. But more exposure could get you specially selected. The military's special selections are quite arbitrary - they consider next year's inter-school competition and our New Year's gala. Ancient martial arts make excellent publicity - perform well here, then reach the finals next year, and you should be set. Share any ideas or requests - we'll do our best to accommodate."
Lian Sheng: "Understood. Thank you."
Their meeting concluded, and Lian Sheng returned to her dorm.
When her three roommates returned, they immediately asked: "Did you get selected?"
Lian Sheng nodded: "I did."
Roommate C clapped wildly: "Wow hubby you're amazing! I'll definitely cheer loudest for you!"
Lian Sheng: "Thanks."
Roommate A clenched her fist: "I'll spread the word in our department - you're the pride of Materials Engineering!"
Over the next two weeks, Lian Sheng made time to rehearse several times with the academy students.
With so many groups booking the stage, their allotted time was limited. Most of it was spent adjusting the background. The third-year command students downloaded numerous materials online, determined to create an epic production.
After finalizing the background, they had Lian Sheng choreograph her movements in an arbitrary location.
Given the complexity, they selected only four weapons that were both visually impressive and widely recognized.
The school scheduled the New Year's gala for Friday evening.
That day, Alliance University opened its gates to a continuous stream of vehicles, including many non-academic guests.
Ms. Lin Lie was among the invited guests, having messaged the day before that she would attend the gala, then take Lian Sheng home afterward, so she should pack in advance.
Invited guests watched live performances in the theater while students viewed holographic broadcasts on the sports field.
As the Military Academy's turn approached, several students responsible for the background prepared backstage with her, constantly urged on by the supervising teacher.
A male student gripping his optical computer took a deep breath: "Don't be nervous, Sister Lian! Whatever you do, don't be nervous!"
Lian Sheng twirled the longsword in her hand without looking up: "I'm not nervous."
"Military Academy, you're up," the teacher said, patting Lian Sheng's back. "The stage is yours now - go get them!"
Lian Sheng strode onto the stage.
Dressed in a white long gown with black boots, a simple belt around her waist, her short hair swept back to reveal a smooth forehead.
Holding a longsword in her left hand, she stood at center stage and clasped her hands in salute to the audience.
The crowd murmured curiously: "What is this? Cosplay? Alliance University has acts like this?"
"Just one person? Stage play?"
"Why doesn't the program specify? It just says 'Ancient Martial Arts Selection.'"
"A young girl? Military Academy? Haha no military boxing this year?"
Lin Lie narrowed her eyes, leaning forward slightly. The girl looked familiar.
The lights dimmed, voices quieted. The audience sat upright, focusing on the stage.
The backdrop transformed into a maple forest ablaze with red leaves. Lian Sheng raised her left hand, sending the sword flying from its sheath, catching it deftly after a spinning turn.
With a flick of her wrist, the blade danced forward like a water snake. The metal gleamed coldly before piercing a falling leaf.
She turned and swept the sword in an arc. The sound of blade slicing air. Instantly, fallen leaves were swept into a perfect circle as the sword's momentum, unstoppable, suddenly redirected left.
Where she'd stood moments before, an identical figure now appeared.
At first the audience thought their eyes deceived them, then remembered the modeling.
Crimson leaves swirled down as two slender figures darted like startled swans through them. Silver flashes, sword shadows flickering. Where the blade pointed, red leaves scattered.
Suddenly the figures accelerated their assault. A whirlwind of leaves rushed toward her as if to engulf her. The sword spun, one downward slash scattering them like fallen petals.
Truly as the ancient poem described:
"Swift as Hou Yi shooting down nine suns,
Elegant as immortals riding dragons.
Approaching like thunder gathering fury,
Departing like river and sea calming to light."
Abruptly, she sheathed the sword.
Then turned and hurled the longsword toward a rack at the back of the stage.
Thunderous applause erupted immediately.
This was true swordsmanship! Who knew it could be so breathtaking!
Lian Sheng hooked another weapon with her toe - a broadsword now in her grasp.
The backdrop faded, rippling like water into a new scene.
Dark clouds hung low at dusk, swirling snow danced in the wind.
A white-clad figure stood on snow-blanketed ground, broadsword held behind. Snowflakes layered upon the leveled blade.
The cold seemed to transcend the scene, rushing toward the audience.
Lian Sheng opened her eyes, stepped into a bow stance, and slashed forward powerfully.
The blade led her wrist, which led her shoulder, then her entire body in a twisting motion. Cold light seemed to flow along the steel. Compared to the sword's flexibility, the broadsword techniques radiated raw power - fierce, vigorous, mighty.
The blade skimmed a tree trunk before a forceful swipe sent accumulated snow cascading down in a spectacular collapse.
Then a silver moon rose as front stage lights dimmed. Multiple shadows reappeared in the moonlight, exuding an aura of tiger-like dominance.
As the night wind in the backdrop stilled, the whooshing blade sounds reached their ears.
The audience gasped collectively, spines straightening at the sharp sounds, feeling heat rush to their heads.
The broadsword spun in her grip before suddenly halting at her chest. Heavy snow coated the blade as two fingers lightly wiped down its length. Her extended arm pointed into the dark depths.
With a twist of her wrist, she launched the broadsword to join the sword on the back rack.
Drumbeats rumbled from the backdrop as signals of war smoke appeared at the stage corners.
The morning sun rose, melting snow to reveal a bloodied battlefield.
A spear stood planted in the earth, red tassel fluttering in the wind.
Lian Sheng approached, grasped it, and pulled it free.
Thrusts came fast, withdrawals quicker. Whether sweeping horizontally or stabbing upward, each move carried remarkable power while her footwork remained nimble, body light and agile.
The figure thrust the spear forward as drumbeats intensified like rain on duckweed, pearls falling on jade.
The spear tip darted forward like a wandering dragon - unstoppable, its path blurring feint and reality, exquisitely refined. Truly "the spear like a roaming dragon strikes one point, its dance creates endless wonders." Powerful yet graceful.
Behind her, countless faint shadows materialized, moving in unison with red-tasseled spears as they charged across the battlefield.
The spearhead skimmed the sand, sending up dust in blade-like silhouettes.
As the spear plunged back into earth, the figure knelt on one knee.
Finally, a horn sounded as the spear joined the weapons rack.
The theater remained utterly silent. People unconsciously leaned forward for a better view.
Recording equipment stayed perfectly still, operators glued to their screens, afraid to miss a single moment.
Even from afar, they could hear the sports field's near-deafening cheers. Clenching their fists, they too wanted to shout praise.
The next backdrop was a reed marsh. Two-meter-high plants nearly swallowed the figure whole.
Lian Sheng grasped a soft whip, breathing slightly heavily.
Then a lash came whipping toward what seemed like the front row's noses. Reeds bent en masse as white flowers soared skyward before drifting down.
The whip cracked louder than blades. Each strike appeared gentle, the motion supple, but the sharp sound upon hitting the stage revealed its true force.
Though only one meter long, the whip became an extension of her limbs, every swing forming taut, energetic curves through air before returning to her grasp.
Strike followed strike without gaps, impenetrable as iron.
Shadows swept past as surrounding reeds flattened completely, revealing her figure clearly.
If blades evoked thunderclouds, then the whip was autumn wind scattering leaves - steel within softness, like silver snakes dancing, dazzling to behold.
The whip flew overhead, coiled around her hand, then released to land perfectly on the rack.
White fluff gradually vanished, leaving only a lone figure on stage.
Lian Sheng closed her stance and stood straight. Lifting her head, she clasped hands in final salute before exiting stage left.
Lights brightened from above.
The audience remained transfixed, hearing only their own breathing.
Afterimages replayed endlessly in their minds. Their accelerated heartbeats continued pounding.
One person began clapping, then applause thundered through the theater.
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