Became a National Couple with My Ex Chapter 39: Eloping

Liang Yixuan blinked in surprise and glanced at the mirror, seeing the blush on her ears and cheeks.

Her foundation was light, and even with makeup, it couldn't hide the heat rising to her face.

Bian Xu wasn’t really talking about the blush—he was teasing her.

Flustered, Liang Yixuan raised her hand and pushed him away. "Quit touching me! Now I have to redo my makeup!"

Bian Xu raised his eyebrows. Instead of getting annoyed, he seemed to enjoy being shoved and smiled. Straightening up, he adjusted the front of his tailcoat. "Sorry for the trouble, Ms. Liang. I’ll let you work."

He took a step back and slowly fixed the cuffs and wing collar of his formal shirt.

Liang Yixuan pulled out her blush brush from a pouch and evened out her makeup in the mirror.

After touching up her face, she checked that the buttons of her qipao were secure, then used an invisible pin to fasten the last loose strand of hair behind her ear.

Just as she finished, she heard Bian Xu speak behind her, sounding curious. "That hairpiece…"

"What about it?"

He was carefully looking at the pearl-embellished flower hairpin by her bun. "It’s different?"

"…How did you know?" In last year’s first version of《Lu Bian》, her character wore a simple ribbon as a headpiece. For this year’s revival, the production had updated the set and costumes.

But the moment she asked, she already knew the answer.

How else could he know?

"Because I remembered," Bian Xu said quietly.

Liang Yixuan fell silent at this answer—so logical, yet completely unexpected.

If he could even remember her hair accessories…

A sudden impulse rose inside her. She wanted to be brave enough to ask the question she'd once brought up at the wrong time, the one he'd brushed off back then.

She looked at Bian Xu in the mirror. "Why me?"

Bian Xu caught her meaning immediately. He vaguely remembered that she had asked this question before—why her? Why, among all the ballerinas, had he chosen her to be his muse?

What had he said back then?

As he tried to recall, the dressing room door, left slightly ajar, was suddenly knocked on.

Liu Peng carefully peeked in with a cheerful smile. "The stage is ready. Are you two all set?"

The moment was broken. The quiet, private atmosphere vanished.

Liang Yixuan exhaled softly, stood up, and followed Bian Xu out of the dressing room toward the theater.

Around the main stage, cameras were set up in a circle. A massive crane camera had been installed for sweeping long shots.

Bian Xu went to the orchestra pit in front of the stage and checked the piano keys and pedals, playing a test piece at double speed.

Liang Yixuan confirmed her modified stage positions with the lighting technician, adjusted to suit the show’s filming needs.

Everything was ready. From the audience seats, Liu Peng called out, "Would you two like to run through a segment first?"

Liang Yixuan glanced down toward Bian Xu in the orchestra pit.

Bian Xu gave a small nod, signaling her to decide.

She lowered her gaze and took a slow, deep breath.

She and Bian Xu were already very familiar with this piece—she trusted he wouldn’t make any mistakes. She wanted to save her full emotions for the actual recording.

This would be her first public performance since returning from Europe. Even though it was just a segment, the fact that it would be filmed and aired made it different. If nothing unexpected happened, her mother would see this.

After steadying herself, she looked up and said, "Let’s just go straight into it."

Liu Peng made an "OK" gesture and was about to cue the cameras when Bian Xu suddenly said, "Wait."

"Hm?"

"I need to check something with Ms. Liang." Bian Xu got up from the piano bench and climbed the temporary steps onto the stage, walking over to her.

Liang Yixuan had just started walking toward her mark but paused and turned to face him.

With his back to the cameras, Bian Xu leaned down and spoke quietly by her ear.

"What is it?" Liang Yixuan was running through potential technical problems in her head.

Instead, she heard a low voice say, "Because out of all the ballets I’ve seen, you’re the only one who made me want to create."

She froze. It took her a second to process what he meant—he was answering the question she’d asked in the dressing room.

He wasn’t saying he randomly walked into a theater one day, in need of inspiration, and picked out a ballerina who happened to look nice. He was saying he had searched for a long time, and found her.

"Expecting a composer to explain why inspiration strikes in a certain moment," he said softly, "is like asking a man why he desires a certain woman."

He looked up at her. "Liang Yixuan, you’re really good at putting people on the spot."

Her eyes flickered slightly, and she looked into his.

So back then, even when he’d brushed her off in bed, he hadn’t been lying.

He really didn’t have a logical reason—he just couldn’t explain why he only felt that creative spark with her. And so, he had translated that creative passion into another kind of desire.

Another man might have just said something sweet to get by in the moment.

But for someone proud and guarded like Bian Xu, admitting to that word "only" had taken nearly a year.

"Still not satisfied?" Bian Xu raised an eyebrow at her, as if saying: if you don’t accept the honor of that "only," I’m going to be upset.

Liang Yixuan snapped out of it and glanced toward the audience, where Liu Peng and the rest of the crew were staring at them like stone statues—faces full of curiosity, wondering what is going on between these two?

"Alright," she said softly, giving Bian Xu a gentle push. "We can talk about it after the performance."

Bian Xu raised an eyebrow. "If I don’t make it clear now, do you think you can perform well?"

"Why not?" Liang Yixuan shot him a glare, then turned and walked to her mark on stage.

Bian Xu stepped down from the main stage and returned to the orchestra pit. He sat at the piano bench and gave Liu Peng a quick hand signal.

Liu Peng let out a breath of relief and raised his hand. "All departments, ready. Lights down."

The house lights dimmed. A cold white spotlight lit up the grand black Steinway piano in the orchestra pit.

At the same time, matching stage lights slowly illuminated the main stage.

Liang Yixuan's silhouette appeared before everyone’s eyes.

Her well-fitted silk qipao hugged her figure in just the right way—neither too much nor too little. With her head slightly tilted upward, her slender neck looked even more delicate beneath the high collar.

The clear, bright sound of piano music rang out. Liang Yixuan rose on the toes of her left foot, lifted her right leg at a forty-five-degree angle, swept it in a half-circle across her supporting leg and kicked into the air, spinning around gracefully. Her arms followed in a smooth arc—like a sigh made visible.

The story of《Lu Bian》takes place in a riverside tavern in Jiangnan and tells the tales of the tavern's landlady and the many different customers who pass through.

Liang Yixuan plays Ding Ling, a fifteen-year-old daughter of a boatman. Born and raised on the river, Ding Ling has never known any other life.

Her father, afraid that she would one day see the bustling world beyond the river and leave him—just like her mother once did—keeps her confined to their boat, never allowing her to set foot on land. Poor Ding Ling can only sneak glances at the shore from the deck whenever the boat docks, longing silently for the world beyond.

This particular scene shows her life before she meets the tavern's landlady.

One night under a bright full moon, after secretly watching the crowded streets and listening to the peddlers shouting during the day, Ding Ling couldn’t sleep. She stepped out onto the deck, sighing in boredom and loneliness.

A white mist began to gather at the edges of the stage—

Fog was rising over the river.

In the moonlit fog, Ding Ling begins to dance, expressing her loneliness to the moon. The more she dances, the sadder she becomes.

Then, a thought occurs to her.

Next time the boat docks, she thinks, she’ll disguise herself as a boat worker and escape to the shore. Even if all she does is eat a bowl of wontons at a street stall, it would be worth it.

As the thought takes hold, her mood lifts—and so does the fog on stage, clearing as her heart opens up.

The piano melody becomes lighter and more cheerful.

On stage, Liang Yixuan shifts from small jumps to grand leaps. After a soaring split mid-air, she lands softly and elegantly, spinning on one foot in a series of clean, fluid fouetté turns.

Beneath her altered qipao, a layer of white mulberry silk chiffon flutters wildly with each spin, dazzling the audience.

Then suddenly, a heavy chord strikes in the music—

Ding Ling freezes inside. She suddenly remembers: her father never gives her a single coin. Even if she escapes to shore, she won’t be able to do anything. She’ll only end up running into the "bad people" her father always warned her about.

The music shifts back to its earlier melancholic tone. The stage lights dim once again—

Even the moon is now covered by clouds, unable to keep her company any longer.

Ding Ling paces the deck, remembering her father—strict, stern, and unyielding. Then she thinks of the mother she’s never met, the woman whose absence took away her freedom for life. She slumps to the ground in despair.

In the white fog, Liang Yixuan hugs her knees and buries her head.

The final notes of the piano fade away.

For a few seconds, the theater is so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

Then, as if forgetting this was a variety show recording, the entire crew instinctively stopped what they were doing and broke into thunderous applause.

Liang Yixuan and Bian Xu rose to their feet amidst the applause, bowing toward the audience.

As the clapping died down, people wiped away tears they didn’t even know why they were crying—tears that just came—and looked at the two of them, eyes still shimmering.

The theater lights came back on.

Liang Yixuan caught her breath, wiped the corner of her eyes, and slowly let herself come out of character. Then she looked toward Bian Xu across the orchestra pit.

Their eyes met. Bian Xu gave her a small smile and slowly started clapping.

Liang Yixuan wiped away the tears she still had from the performance and smiled with relief.

Only then did Liu Peng—his eyes full of tears himself—remember that he was supposed to be capturing this "couple moment." He quickly started directing all the cameras to film the two’s silent interaction from across the stage.

But the two of them seemed completely oblivious to the people around them, communicating silently like it was their own private world.

Bian Xu pointed toward the backstage area with his index finger. Liang Yixuan followed his gesture and gave him a questioning look.

In response, Bian Xu raised two fingers and made a walking gesture, then turned and left the orchestra pit without waiting for a reply.

Liang Yixuan realized what he meant and quickly turned to Liu Peng with an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, Director Liu… I think Mr. Bian needs to talk to me about something backstage. I’ll just be a moment."

She bowed to everyone and disappeared behind the curtain.

Backstage in the hallway, she immediately spotted Bian Xu leaning against the wall, smiling as she approached.

When she reached him, he flicked her lightly on the forehead with two fingers. "Lead dancer Liang, impressive—really impressive. You've come a long way."

Liang Yixuan knew Bian Xu was rarely one to hand out compliments. If he praised someone, he meant it. That thought calmed her nerves, though she still mumbled under her breath, "What would you know? It’s not like you dance ballet."

"I don’t dance, but I do know how to watch," Bian Xu replied, raising an eyebrow.

"So you brought me back here just to show off your ‘eye for talent’?"

He shook his head. "I brought you back here… to elope with Ding Ling."

Liang Yixuan froze.

"We already gave them the performance for free. What more do they want—me to keep wasting my time?" Bian Xu grabbed her hand. "Let’s go, little runaway."