Wanda Ge felt that his whole life was like a top pressed on its bearings, spinning dizzy but never getting out of the circle called "system". At the age of forty-seven, he had just completed his third term as a deputy director at the Municipal Song and Dance Theatre. The pothos in his office had changed three times, and the tea stains on the bottom of the enamel cup on his desk were thicker than the honors on his resume.
"Mr. Wan, the provincial inspection team is coming tomorrow, and your performance of "He Ming Jiu Gao" has to be the finale." Xiao Li, the office director, poked his head in with a standard professional smile on his face, "The leader specifically told me that your dance can reflect the heritage of our local culture."
