Alice couldn’t help but grip Fu Xiaotang’s shoulder firmly, “You, tone it down a bit, don’t just smile at anyone, you hear me!” Fu Xiaochong, caught between laughter and tears, said, “Sister, I’m here to dance, not to keep a straight face. It’s not like I’m performing in a tragic opera!” Alice shook her head in resignation, sighing, “That Young Master Jun Jie will definitely regret this! He’ll regret it deeply! Why did he push you into the spotlight instead of keeping you to himself?”
Fu Xiaotang glanced at her sideways, “Go on.” Alice paused, then slapped her forehead, exclaiming dramatically, “Oh no, here we go again! Is there anyone to handle this woman? She’s possessed by a fox spirit!”
The dancers gathered at the “Heaven on Earth” super spinning dance hall for the preliminary round. Due to the relaxed rules and unrestricted format, the dozens of participants seemed to be at a masquerade, adorned in dazzling and bewildering costumes. Everyone had their own strategy for victory. Some sought novelty, others change; some played it safe, while some aimed for fame, preferring infamy over obscurity. Some liked to take the lead from the start, while others were content to be dark horses, only showing their strength at the last moment.
This time, Xin Peipei decided to go against the grain. She was well aware of her capabilities, ranking in the top five in overall quality, but her disadvantage was her long career making her face less fresh. Thus, she abandoned her usual allure, opting instead to portray a refined lady and revisiting her childhood ballet training. She started with a specially adapted version of “Swan Lake” that dominated the stage. She seemed to understand a principle well: in a place like this, often considered a venue for entertainment and pleasure, those with a lady’s demeanor in a courtesan’s setting, or vice versa, usually attract the most attention.
Although some felt her ballet performance in such a setting was pretentious, it didn’t detract from her overwhelming victories over two competitors. One more win, and Xin Peipei would advance. As the host on stage invited the next challenger, no one dared to step up after witnessing her sharp performance. Xin Peipei was quite pleased, standing on the high platform, she provocatively raised her chin towards Fu Xiaotang. This was almost the first time in a while she had directly faced Fu Xiaotang; previously, she had subconsciously avoided her, as if fearing someone might read her thoughts.
Xiaotang slightly lifted the corners of her mouth, returning a smile that inadvertently mimicked Jun Jie’s, exuding a calm, commanding presence with a hint of pity in her eyes. Xin Peipei, furious, was about to lash out, her arm raised towards Fu Xiaotang, but then reconsidered; it was not worth losing her composure so early in the competition, especially since Fu Xiaotang hadn’t even danced yet. Better to keep her tactics under wraps. So, she pointed to a small girl to Fu Xiaotang’s right instead. The girl, very young and dressed in a bright red dance outfit, was lively but still childlike. Knowing she had no chance against Xin Peipei, she went on stage with a resigned look. Xin Peipei easily won, advancing to the next round with an air of triumph.
Alice whispered into Fu Xiaotang’s ear, “Take it easy, just 20% effort is enough. There are many more rounds ahead; you can dazzle them, but don’t scare Xin Peipei away, that would be too dull!” Fu Xiaotang rolled her eyes, “Oh, Sister Xiao Tao, I’m not that powerful!”
Yet, Fu Xiaotang did indeed stun many. Her short hair was completely pulled back, adorned with a chain at the top, a long, blood-red pendant swaying over her forehead, almost touching her brows, looking like a painted blood mark if not looked at closely. Her veil half-covered her face, leaving only her tender, affectionate eyes visible. One moment she seemed shy and pitiable, and the next, fiery and seductive, truly versatile and indescribable. Her upper body was clad in a simple bandeau top, conservative yet revealing her beautiful shoulders and delicate collarbones. Even when bending over, the decorations of silk flowers blocked any view, leaving one to sigh in frustration and imagine. Her lower half was wrapped in oversized silk pants, tightly cinched at the ankles, with dark, lush floral patterns embroidered on a red base, blending Eastern and Western aesthetics perfectly, but one’s attention was inevitably drawn to her slender, enticing waist, adorned with a small gemstone of unclear color, which shimmered with a dull light with each move, adding a mysterious, enchanting atmosphere.
To the exotic Middle Eastern music, Fu Xiaotang began to dance like a sprite. Her body seemed alive with every inch, her skin glowing like white jade, her arms moving like snakes, her hips swaying, her waist slender and flexible, her wrists and ankles adorned with twinkling, tinkling jewelry. Each movement was sensual and captivating, every shift graceful and lively, as if she were a startled swan. As the dance reached its climax, the music softened, leaving only the dynamic and rhythmic drumbeats, sometimes fast, like a dam breaking with a torrent of water, sometimes slow, like a lover’s whisper or the song of a warbler. In the midst of these drumbeats, Fu Xiaotang spun and twirled, her movements flowing like clouds and water, her shoulders shaking, her hips twisting, her back arching, all executed with utmost fluidity and grace. The audience was silent, no one spoke, only the steady beat of the drums, as if they struck directly at the heart. Cheng Yu sat in an unnoticed corner below the stage, watching the ethereal sprite on stage, his emotions a tangled mess. Every glance, every smile, every graceful step, every nimble twist of her waist seemed to be intentionally enticing him, as if she wouldn’t stop until he was utterly captivated. Yet, the thought that others might feel the same way filled him with rage. He felt breathless, roughly loosening his tie, then clenching his fists tightly. His heart pounded like a drum. He wanted to rush forward, to confront Fu Xiaotang, but he was unsure whether he wanted to cover her up completely, not letting others see even a strand of her hair, or to take her home and keep her for himself alone.
While his insides churned with turmoil, two middle-aged men beside him watched the stage with lustful eyes, whispering to each other and occasionally letting out lewd laughs. One said to the other, “She really knows how to move, look at that waist, tut-tut-tut…” The other chuckled and replied, “Imagine if she danced like that on us, it would be even more exhilarating…” Cheng Yu turned his gaze towards them, his eyes like knives, his face so cold it could drip water. The men recoiled; one recognized Cheng Yu and greeted him with a forced smile, “Young Master Cheng, you’re here too?” Cheng Yu’s lips curled in what seemed like a smile, but under the flickering lights, his handsome face looked even more menacing. He seemed to grit his teeth as he spat out two words, “Get out, quick!” One man tried to speak, but the other, more perceptive, bowed repeatedly, saying, “Our apologies,” and dragged his companion away.
Cheng Yu watched their hasty retreat, his mind returning to the stage where Fu Xiaotang’s performance had ended, and she had advanced without any suspense. Amidst thunderous applause, a child presented her with a large bouquet of roses, their vibrant colors and sweet scent overshadowed by her radiant smile. Her figure, poised and elegant, seemed to be etched into everyone’s hearts.
