Hongyi spent the whole afternoon in her room, racking her brain, yet still had no idea what she could do. She couldn't sew, couldn't embroider, and her incense-making skills were far too amateurish.
She was part of that generation raised in the internet age—information was easily accessible, so anything you wanted to learn, you could dive into right away with resources and equipment at your fingertips.
But few ever mastered anything.
To put it plainly, she had added another hobby to her list, but nothing solid enough to rely on for a livelihood.
"Tea ceremony?" She propped her chin and scribbled it on a piece of paper, only to cross it out immediately—who would want to sip tea outside that little back gate? And it's not like the residence would assign her a separate room.
"Letter writing?" Suddenly, she recalled that in period dramas, poor scholars often made a living that way. Her eyes lit up with hope—she was confident in her writing skills.
Then her expression dimmed: Traditional characters... she could read them but not write them.
She sighed and slumped over her desk. This was truly a dilemma. Hearing she would need two thousand taels of silver to buy her freedom had already hit her hard. She'd gritted her teeth and forced herself to look for the light beyond the clouds, telling herself she could save up if she worked hard enough.
But in the end, the hardest part turned out to be figuring out how to make money.
With her head hanging low, she temporarily shelved the headache and brought her water sleeves to the music hall.
With Xi Linchuan away and the chief musician Yushi being a kind soul, no one stopped her from watching the dancers practice. That was an unspeakable comfort to Hongyi. Even in her modern life, no matter how big the trouble was or how heavy the gloom clouding her heart, she could always dance through the fog. A few routines, and the skies in her heart would clear again.
And maybe, after relaxing her mind, she might find a new solution to her problem.
.
When she arrived at the music hall, she found Lvxiu anxiously scanning the surroundings by the entrance. As Hongyi approached, Lvxiu quickly grabbed her hand. "Finally! Come with me!"
…What's going on?
Dragged along by Lvxiu, Hongyi listened to her explain in hurried whispers, "The palace is about to select new consorts from noble families. Prince Yining sent two beauties from his fiefdom to present to His Majesty. He's asked the local officials in Changyang to find someone to train them in music and dance. That official passed the task to Chief Musician Yu."
"…Ah?" Hongyi blinked, unsure what this had to do with her.
"Yushi can't spend several hours a day teaching them, so she's looking for someone else to take over," Lvxiu said, glancing at her and holding up two fingers. "Two hundred taels of silver! They're picking someone in the back courtyard now—every dancer in the residence is there. You should try too."
Two hundred taels—that was ten percent of her goal.
Hongyi took a deep breath. She knew the competition would be fierce, but she didn't hesitate for even a second. Fierce or not, she had to try. If she lost, it was because she wasn't good enough—she'd accept that. But if she won... she'd be one step closer to freedom.
In the innermost courtyard, lively chatter filled the air.
Yushi hadn't arrived yet. The dancers were quietly conversing in pairs and trios. Lvxiu led her toward Sizuan and Sujin, both of whom had also been sent from the Princess's residence. The four had always been close. Upon seeing Hongyi, Sujin exchanged a glance with Sizuan and smiled, "We know you've made up your mind to earn your freedom. That's important. Let's all give it our best. If you're chosen, the two hundred taels are yours. If one of us is picked instead, we'll keep a little for powder and give the rest to you."
"That's too generous…" Hongyi tried to refuse, but before she or Sujin could say more, a cold voice cut through the air: "The young master may not mind breaking rules, but does that mean the whole residence forgets them too?"
The four of them turned at once and immediately lowered their heads. Lvxiu tugged on Hongyi's sleeve. She glanced up and understood—they all curtsied.
"Sister Du Ruo," they greeted.
"You're Hongyi?" Du Ruo stared coldly at her.
Hongyi nodded. "Yes."
"I've heard of you," Du Ruo sneered. "You were sent to do chores after your very first encounter with the young master. And you think you're qualified to compete for this?"
Hongyi stiffened, her face turning cold. She didn't respond. After another snide laugh, Du Ruo turned away.
Once she'd walked off to join a group of familiar dancers near the flowerbed, Hongyi finally looked at her properly. She appeared seventeen or eighteen, a few years older than them. Slender and tall, with pale skin, finely drawn brows, and bright, piercing eyes.
"Who's that?" she whispered to Lvxiu, but Sizuan replied first: "That's Du Ruo… the top dancer here. She's skilled in both music and dance and was hand-taught by Yushi before she left servitude."
Hongyi felt the pressure mount.
"A good teacher raises strong students" had always been true. Yushi was said to be one of the best dancers in Changyang in her youth. After buying her freedom, she joined the Xi residence for stability. Anyone she trained…
Hongyi glanced at Du Ruo again and took a deep breath to calm herself: No fear. You've got this.
.
Yushi emerged from the west wing shortly after. She pushed open the main hall doors and said only one thing: "Dancers first. One by one."
Her stern demeanor surprised Hongyi. Normally, Yushi greeted her with a smile when she came to visit Lvxiu. Now, this seriousness made her feel like she was facing a battlefield. Lvxiu leaned over and whispered, "Don't be nervous. She's always like this when handling official matters."
Inside the main hall, the selection had begun.
There seemed to be a tacit agreement among the dancers. No names were called, no order announced. One would step forward, and another would follow seamlessly—no arguments, no questions.
A band of musicians was already in place. Each dancer would name a song, and they would accompany her.
Each danced one routine. Yushi occasionally jotted something down but never made a single comment.
Hongyi watched silently, her mind a swirl of thoughts.
Everyone danced well. Her modern, professionally trained skills might place her just slightly above average. And that was just judging from the girls who'd danced so far—there might be stronger ones later. Even if not, there was still Du Ruo, Yushi's handpicked protégé.
Narrowing her eyes, Hongyi focused on the dancer currently performing.
The moves were precise and graceful, but... maybe it was the angle, maybe it was the lack of expression—something seemed missing.
She studied the flow of the dancer's water sleeves, deep in thought.
Then it was her group's turn.
Lvxiu, Sujin, and Sizuan danced in turn. Hongyi said nothing, observing intently. She even forgot the competition itself—just desperately trying to figure out what exactly was lacking.
Then Sizuan exited, and Du Ruo entered.
Now aware of Du Ruo's strength, Hongyi paid extra attention.
Dressed in a dark blue silk gown, Du Ruo's sleeves were longer than others. She chose a song with strong rhythm and powerful drumbeats. It lacked the softness of earlier dances but brought such intensity that no one could look away.
Suddenly, Hongyi had a realization—just a glimmer. She chased that thread of thought deeper.
"Your turn. Go," Lvxiu nudged her.
Snapping back to the moment, Hongyi noticed Du Ruo finishing her bow to Yushi. She entered the hall just as Du Ruo passed by.
They didn't speak, but once again, Hongyi heard that distinctive sneer.
.
"Hongyi?" Yushi blinked in surprise.
Hongyi bowed. "Yes."
Yushi studied her, then nodded. "Begin."
Hongyi turned to the musicians. After some thought, she said slowly, "Play The Beauty's Song."
She had a deep connection to that tune.
Back in school, she'd choreographed a dance to a modern version of it and won first place.
Of course, that was a contemporary reinterpretation—the ancient melody was entirely different, even if based on the same Han Dynasty poem by Li Yannian.
The first time she heard the original tune in this world, she'd been thrilled. Still in the Princess's residence back then, she spent a whole month's allowance convincing the musicians to play it on repeat for an entire day while she choreographed.
She drove them mad.
Her choreography borrowed heavily from Han and Tang Dynasty styles, but again—modern interpretations, no matter how researched, still diverged from the originals.
This routine had two distinct advantages: flair, and immersion.
Her childhood dance teacher once said, Dance isn't acting, but the dancer must still feel the role. In this case, she danced from the perspective of Lady Li—whom the poem praised for her beauty—and imagined how that woman might've won the emperor's heart.
Every movement aimed to captivate "Liu Che's gaze"—graceful or fierce, all crafted with purpose.
And for those two women hoping to enter the palace, that purpose was everything. This dance couldn't just be background music—it had to dazzle.
She held her breath. The instrumental interlude approached—sixteen spins, fast and precise, with both hands and feet in sync.
CLANG— A strange note broke the flow. Alarmed, she froze and looked toward the source.
A guzheng string had snapped.