Practice makes perfect
None of the five women had any real musical experience before joining the band.
"I can't even read sheet music, let alone play an instrument," says keyboardist Zeng Qingli, 49.
For a month, they rehearsed during work breaks in the dormitory duty room. With the curtains drawn and their instruments unplugged, they silently counted beats and practiced finger movements.
"We didn't want to make noise that might disturb students studying for exams or sleeping in the dorms," says Liu, the drummer.
She says the rehearsals were meant to remain a secret.
"But some students walking past the duty room late at night heard us humming and guessed we were preparing for a performance," Liu says.
"They even told us not to push ourselves too hard."
Without a drum kit at home, Liu lined up washbasins, rice bowls and pot lids in her kitchen, using chopsticks as drumsticks while following tutorial videos on her phone.
"My husband laughed at first, saying I'd turned the kitchen into a band rehearsal room," she says.
"Later, he sat with me every day, helping me keep time."
The idea for the performance began when the university's facilities and logistics department and the Communist Youth League Committee started planning a performance for the graduation concert. Graduates from the School of Literature, Journalism and Communication suggested writing a song dedicated to the dormitory matrons who had cared for them throughout their university years.
The concert's faculty adviser believed rock music best captured the energy and optimism of graduates about to begin a new chapter in life.
To create an original song, Ouyang Chengxiu and his students interviewed classmates and dormitory matrons, collecting stories that reflected everyday moments and the deep bonds between them.
The lyrics recall students pretending to be asleep when they heard the matrons' jangling keys, hiding laptops beneath blankets, tucking takeout into wardrobes, or climbing over campus walls late at night with excuses about buying medicine.
The song went through more than 10 revisions before it was finalized.
"Our concept was built around contrast and resonance," Ouyang says. "We wanted to break the stereotype that dormitory matrons are simply there to check rooms."
The five performers were selected from across the university. After speaking with them, Ouyang's team realized how many moving stories they had.
No matter how late students returned, the matrons always left a door open for them. Years after graduation, many former students still send local specialties from their hometowns or greetings during festivals. "We wove those genuine moments into the lyrics," Ouyang says.
