Chapter Nineteen: Dance and the Lady
The final dance performance of the graduating class at Nanhang Dance Academy is about to begin.
The audience seats were filled with college leaders and students. However, the principal, who should have been sitting in the front center seat, was nowhere to be seen. It was said that a very important person had come to visit unexpectedly, and the principal and other leaders had gone to accompany him.
However, the instructors and those in charge received instructions to proceed with the performance as scheduled.
On the academy stage, the curtain slowly rose, and a spotlight, like a handful of melting moonlight, fell perfectly onto the stage.
At this moment, the jagged rocks and props are outlined with silver edges by the sidelight, like the blank space in a light ink landscape painting.
Faint music drifted from backstage, the sounds of the ruan and konghou. Overtones pierced through the velvet curtain, imbuing the air with an ancient, mysterious, ethereal, and timeless atmosphere, as if transporting the audience to a moonlit mountain forest in ancient times.
The whispers in the audience suddenly subsided, like a pebble thrown into water. The tassels in the corner of the curtain trembled slightly, and the performance began.
On the stage, the lights gradually came on, as if parting the thick fog in the mountains and forests.
The music began to play softly, the ancient and mysterious melody seeming to drift from the mountains and forests a thousand years ago.
Amidst the ethereal and mysterious mist, a captivating figure slowly turned around and stepped forward to the accompaniment of music.
The younger female students in the audience immediately burst into whispers, recognizing that the lead dancer in this performance was senior Yun Yao!
On stage, Yun Yao wore a flowing black robe that trailed on the ground, with only a touch of red at the hem. His figure was ethereal, like a god in the clouds, or like a newly cut bamboo strip bathed in moonlight.
The most eye-catching feature was the dark blue belt around his waist, which accentuated the boy's still-slender waist, yet it swung out in a sharp arc when he turned around, like the cold glint of a drawn sword.
Amidst the music, a voice softly sang, "If there is someone on the mountain slope, draped in ivy and adorned with maidenhair fern," the voice melodious and ethereal, carrying a touch of distant melancholy.
Yun Yao's dance movements perfectly matched the music, delicate and poetic, full of classical dance charm.
The dance moves undulate, spin, and stretch, while the boy's steps are agile and somewhat wild, like a mountain god with a majestic presence.
As the voices sang, "I dwell in the secluded bamboo grove, never seeing the sky; the road is treacherous, and I arrive late alone. I stand alone atop the mountain, the clouds billowing below," Yun Yao's eyes seemed to fill with tears. In this dance, he seemed to transform into a deity from a thousand years ago, "I dwell in the deep bamboo forest, never seeing the sun; the road is treacherous, and I arrive late alone. I stand alone atop the high mountain..." How similar this was to his current predicament!
As he danced to this ancient tune, it seemed as if he could briefly escape reality and return to the pure mountains and forests, back to the original, simple emotions.
"The day is dark and gloomy, like night; the east wind blows, and the gods bring rain. They try to keep me here, so I forget to return; the year is late, and who will keep me forever as beautiful as a flower?"
In the second-floor reception room directly opposite the stage, a lady, surrounded by the dean and other leaders, quietly watched the song and dance performance on stage.
Hearing the two lines of poetry sung, she was slightly moved, and her eyes also caught the image of the most dazzling young man in the center of the stage.
"The hermit in the mountains is fragrant with wild herbs, drinks from the stone spring, and is shaded by pines and cypresses..."
The lady gazed at the figure on the stage, holding her teacup, but hesitated to lift the lid.
Suddenly, the music became low and somber, like the calm before a storm.
A thunderclap boomed, and the drumbeats suddenly quickened, "Thunder rumbles, rain falls heavily, monkeys chirp, gibbons howl in the night!" At this moment, Yun Yao performed a perfect "sea-exploring" move to the intense music. The boy's back arched into a full moon shape, his left toe touching the ground like a white egret standing alone, his right sleeve hanging down, just enough to cover half of his face. The corners of his eyes, which were exposed, were slightly upturned, and his pupils reflected a dark jade-like light under the lamplight, while his tightly pursed lower lips revealed the stubbornness unique to young people.
His hair flew wildly with the vigorous movements, and sweat slid down his cheeks, wetting his collar, but he was completely unaware, immersed in the dance.
"The wind rustles, the trees sigh, I think of my beloved, and only sorrow remains..."
As the music grew softer, Yun Yao slowly stopped dancing. He stood in the center of the stage, gazing longingly into the distance, then slowly squatted down, cupping his hands in his hands, as if picking fragrant asarum, or offering his longing to his lover in the distance.
His body trembled slightly, as if he were crying silently, perfectly portraying the pain of unrequited love.
As the dance ended and the curtain fell, Yun Yao suddenly made an unexpected move. He squatted down and gently stroked the stage he had practiced on countless times with his fingertips.
The spotlight dimmed, leaving only the beam of light filtering through the side curtain to illuminate the last crescent moon embroidered on his sleeve…
A burst of enthusiastic applause erupted from the audience, and Professor Yunyao's teachers in the front row smiled with satisfaction.
Laughter and chatter from backstage mingled with the scents of makeup remover and turpentine, intertwining with the lingering sandalwood incense on stage—like two sides of a dream. One side was the bright moon in a painting, the other the clamor of reality.
In the second-floor reception room, with the wife's permission, the dean and other leaders went downstairs to participate in the graduates' group photo.
At this moment, a servant behind the lady quietly walked up; it was Steward Cheng.
Butler Cheng bowed respectfully and asked the lady in a soft voice, "Madam, the principal dancer for this classical dance is Yun Yao, who is about to graduate from this academy. Would you like to meet him?"
The lady didn't speak, but gave him a faint glance.
Butler Cheng trembled, bowing his head even lower as he explained more carefully in a soft voice, "It's an elder of Yun Yao's, someone with some connections to my maternal family. They came specifically to ask me for help; this child's background is rather pitiful..."
...
In the backstage dressing room, Yunyao changed her clothes and removed her stage makeup.
He looked at himself in the mirror, his eyes still slightly red and glistening with tears.
Yun Yao chuckled self-deprecatingly. Four years ago, he entered this school amidst the smiling expectations of his grandparents and mother. Four years later, he was all alone.
Things have changed, and fate has played a cruel trick on him. He never dreamed he would end up like this. How ridiculous, how absurd!
"I'm sorry..." Yun Yao muttered to himself with his eyes closed. He had let down his deceased relatives and his former passionate self.
He opened his eyes, trembling as he looked at himself in the mirror. Pain crashed down on him like a giant wave, leaving him helpless and with nowhere to escape.
As if unable to bear watching any longer, Yun Yao suddenly turned and walked outside. As soon as he opened the door, Qin Rao and Zhao Shi were already waiting for him at the door.
Zhao Shi was visibly excited and praised repeatedly, "Yun Yao, you danced so well! This is art!"
Qin Rao, standing to the side, stared blankly at Yun Yao, who had no makeup on, and sighed inwardly, "She's as beautiful as a lotus emerging from clear water..."
Zhao Shi's excited words gradually fell silent under Yun Yao's cold, piercing gaze. The awkward atmosphere between the three was broken by the arrival of Butler Cheng and his companions.
Butler Cheng looked at Yun Yao with a complicated expression and said, "Yun Yao, come with me. Madam wants to see you."
Yun Yao followed Butler Cheng upstairs to the second floor, where he saw the lady in a room he had never been to before.
Compared to the image of the lady seen on television and in newspapers in her early years, the lady who appeared before Yun Yao now in reality had obviously experienced more of the hardships of life.
There were streaks of white at her temples, and her figure was thinner. The imposing and intimidating aura she once exuded on television news was surprisingly kind and gentle in reality, and her deep, wise eyes were much softer.
As soon as Butler Cheng entered, he quickly walked to the lady's side, bent down and whispered to her as she sat on the pear wood seat, "Madam, this is Yun Yao."
The lady smiled and nodded. She looked at Yun Yao and said gently, "Come."
Yun Yao walked over with light steps. As a young man who had practiced dancing for many years, he was already light-footed and as graceful as a crane or bamboo. Now, walking over with light steps, he was even more like a celestial being descending to earth from the clouds on the stage.
He came to the lady, but instead of standing upright like the others, he naturally squatted down and looked directly into her eyes with gentle calmness.
“Madam,” Yun Yao’s dark eyes met the lady’s deep gaze without flinching. The young man simply smiled slightly, parted his thin lips, and addressed her respectfully and calmly.
The lady seemed pleased by Yun Yao's unusual reaction. She extended one hand, and Yun Yao, understanding the gesture, offered her own hand for the lady to hold gently.
The lady looked at the young man with admiration and said gently, "I heard from Shi Yao that you have no family by your side and nowhere to go now. Would you like to come to my side?"
Yun Yao suppressed his smile, lowered his eyes slightly, nodded as if saddened, and replied softly, "I do, Madam."
Looking at Yun Yao's calm and melancholy eyes, the lady asked softly, "You seem to have many stories?"
Yun Yao shook his head. He looked at his wife, his eyes as still as a deep well after the tide had receded. He said slowly, "No, my wife, my story is very simple and not worth mentioning."
The lady gazed at the boy's captivating features, a long-lost interest stirring within her at the myriad sorrows hidden in his eyes. She asked, "You're so young, are you really sure?"
Yun Yao looked up at the lady, his eyes brimming with affection, and the young man said softly, "It is my honor to be by your side, Madam."
The lady smiled. She first tightened her grip on Yun Yao's hand slightly, then slowly released it, gently patting the boy's hand, which was as smooth as warm jade and fine porcelain.
The lady's gaze was like that of a compassionate yet merciless deity, looking down upon the young man's unadorned and otherworldly beauty.
In the silence, the lady uttered the boy's name for the first time, with an ambiguous smile: "Good, Yun'er, you are very good."
Cheng Shiyao, also known as Steward Cheng, stood respectfully to the side, but inwardly he was quite astonished, thinking to himself, "This Yun Yao is no ordinary person..."
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