Chapter 21: Who Taught You This Dance

Lan Wu had learned about the events at Xu Garden that afternoon from Luo Yun. No wonder Beauty Rong had been so furious she coughed up blood. After being subjected to Consort Shu’s sarcastic remarks that afternoon, she had been unable to vent her anger or speak out, her frustration building until she finally spat out a mouthful of blood. If it had been Lan Wu, she would have erupted on the spot, only to be labeled as intolerant by Consort Shu afterward.

She ate two pieces of chestnut cake, and Luo Yun poured her some tea.

After taking a few sips, Lan Wu glanced at the teacup Chu Mingheng had used earlier, which had already been cleared away.

She knew it was Fengshan Pu’er tea—how could she have mistaken the scent?

Chu Mingheng had been teasing her again.

The warm tea warmed her body, and Lan Wu repeatedly glanced toward the entrance of the hall. Seeing that Chu Mingheng had not yet returned, she withdrew her gaze and pretended to ask if she should not be in His Majesty’s bedchamber, suggesting that Luo Yun take her elsewhere.

Luo Yun’s lips twitched slightly as she looked at the brocade quilt wrapped around Lan Wu, shaking her head and saying, “His Majesty instructed you to wait here. I dare not disobey the imperial command.”

“His Majesty wants me to wait…” Lan Wu nodded, holding the teacup and taking a small sip. She looked up with a smile and replied, “Then I’ll wait.”

Truthfully, Lan Wu herself was uncertain whether dancing for Chu Mingheng when he returned would satisfy him.

And if it didn’t…

If it didn’t, what other method could she try? Should she also cough up blood and pretend to be pitiful?

Before Lan Wu could think it through, Chu Mingheng returned.

Luo Yun did not stay with Lan Wu any longer and said to her, “Miss, I will take my leave now.”

Once she was gone, Lan Wu nervously gripped the quilt. Then, remembering something, she let go, allowing the quilt to slip off. She placed her hands primly on her knees, her eyes fixed straight ahead.

Accompanying Chu Mingheng’s footsteps as he entered the hall was his dangerously cold question: “What are you wearing?”

Lan Wu abruptly stood up, not daring to look at him, and knelt on the ground to pay her respects.

“It’s… it’s for dancing…”

Chu Mingheng glanced sideways at the bright candles in the hall and walked over to extinguish two of them.

He sat silently on the soft couch, where a small table remained with a single teacup on it.

His gaze from above was cold and unfeeling, and even Lan Wu, kneeling on the floor, could sense Chu Mingheng’s foul mood.

But now, there was no turning back.

Lan Wu’s long hair was pinned up with a silver hairpin, adorned on the side with a large pink peony, with a few loose strands framing her temples. The red robe clung to her graceful figure, revealing glimpses of snow-white skin beneath the crimson fabric.

In her deliberately seductive demeanor, there was also a hint of innocence and unease. She reached out gently, touching the hem of Chu Mingheng’s robe, and after grasping it, slowly raised her head.

“Your Majesty, please watch this servant’s dance.”

Chu Mingheng thought he really ought to praise her persistence.

But no words of praise came. Instead, his expression grew even more severe. Yet Lan Wu showed no fear. When he reached out, she leaned her face toward his hand.

Chu Mingheng did not let her touch him. Instead, he firmly pinched her cheek, the soft flesh puffing up under his fingers. He asked, word by word, “Are you sure you want to dance? No regrets?”

Lan Wu blinked and nodded firmly.

Chu Mingheng released her and gave a slight nod. “Then dance.”

Lan Wu’s eyes lit up, and she breathed a soft sigh of relief, replying, “Yes.”

She rose from the floor, her garment barely covering anything, yet she showed little shyness in front of Chu Mingheng. Humming a tune softly, she took her position in the open space at the center.

With limited resources, Lan Wu had to hum the melody herself. Fortunately, in her previous life, she had practiced dancing and memorized the tune thoroughly. As the gentle hum of the music flowed, the dance she had meticulously prepared for Chu Mingheng unfolded before his eyes.

Lan Wu’s fingers were slender, her body agile. As she danced, she resembled a fluttering butterfly, her movements light and graceful. Her sleeves billowed with each motion, casting shadows on the embroidered screen behind her under the flickering candlelight.

The melody flowed softly from her lips, and as it did, her dance movements grew even more fluid.

Chu Mingheng lowered his gaze, his eyes tracing from her captivating eyes downward to her loosely draped collar, which had fallen open, revealing her snow-white collarbone and a sliver of skin below.

His gaze drifted further down to the sash tied around her waist, which was on the verge of slipping off. At the hem of her garment, her bare feet were visible, resting on the Palace Carpet.

Those feet bore scars—small, fine, yet densely scattered—a testament to the hardships she had endured over years of dancing.

The dance lasted no longer than the time it took to finish a cup of tea. When Lan Wu finished, slightly breathless, she fixed her bright eyes on Chu Mingheng. In response, he extended his hand toward her.

“Come here.”

As their fingertips and palms met, she felt a temperature cooler than her own. Lan Wu sometimes wondered if Chu Mingheng was transformed from a snake—books said snakes were cold-blooded, and he always gave her the impression of being impossible to warm. But these thoughts remained locked in her heart, never daring to voice them to Chu Mingheng.

Her fingers were enveloped by another hand, pulling her entire hand into his palm, followed by a tug of force.

Lan Wu offered no resistance, allowing herself to be pulled into Chu Mingheng’s embrace.

“Who taught you this dance?”

Chu Mingheng questioned her, pinning both her wrists above her head as he commanded, “Don’t move.”

Lan Wu stiffened, lifting her head in confusion to glance at her tightly clasped wrists. Seeing Chu Mingheng release his grip, she turned her face back as his thumb stroked the side of her neck, reminding her, “I am asking you a question.”

At the same time, another hand wrapped around her lower back, pulling her forward abruptly until their bodies pressed close.

“It was my own idea—I’ve never, never performed it for anyone else. Only Your Majesty has seen it, truly!” The sash around her waist came completely undone and fell away.

Only then did Lan Wu feel a wave of shyness, her voice trembling slightly as she spoke. Gazing at the familiar face so close to hers, she leaned forward with a hint of grievance, wanting to kiss him but not daring to. She retreated instead, her eyelashes lowering as they trembled uneasily.

Her body was lifted into an embrace, one that felt all too familiar. Instinctively, Lan Wu wrapped her arms around Chu Mingheng’s neck.

Chu Mingheng carried her into the Inner Palace, heading straight for the bed.

Once Lan Wu was set down, he turned and walked to a nearby wooden stand, retrieving something from it.

“I have a few matters to ask you, lest I wrong you and have you beaten for nothing.” The sandalwood ruler in Chu Mingheng’s hand was pitch black all over, adorned with intricate carvings. Though it did not appear thick, it was as long as an arm.

He lightly tapped Lan Wu’s thigh, casually warning her: “If you lie, I will beat your legs until they are ruined.”

Lan Wu stared blankly at the ruler pointed toward her, her heart pounding fiercely. Without even needing to hear what he said, the mere light tap on her thigh made her immediately kneel and sit upright, properly and obediently.