A Princely Dance

Yan Zheyun knew that the mission assigned to him by the Minister of Rites was to seduce the fourth prince with a breathtaking dance. To this end, the Wu Household had spared no expense, forking out a fortune to hire the top courtesan in the capital, famous for bringing men down to their knees by her long, swishing skirts with just one cock of her hips.

Yu Lan, whom the capital nicknamed 'Ye Dynasty's Zhao Feiyan'. Zhao Feiyan was a lowborn girl in the Han Dynasty who became a dancer in a princess' court. She was of such a svelte build and moved so gracefully that legend said she could dance on the emperor's palm. The Han emperor became so enamoured with her that he deposed his empress so that he could crown her instead.

This was how good Yu Lan's dancing was, that she would be compared to such an impressive character.

Yan Zheyun had heard of Yu Lan's reputation before. Her performances were often discussed by the young male aristocrats that come to visit the young masters and she was such a common household name that even the servants would gossip about her in hushed whispers. About how so-and-so young master from whichever household wasted his entire family fortune to buy her first night or how some old, lecherous duke tried to pay for a private performance, only to be harshly rejected.

He didn't care. The woman standing in front of him truly was a porcelain beauty but he was more concerned about how he was expected to reenact her dancing.

Ignoring the fact that Yan Zheyun had never danced before in his life, and despite the fact that he was gay, he was also an adult male who had a lot of pride to swallow before he could bring himself to sway coquettishly in front of an entire audience.

"Could I not…just…play the guqin?"

Yu Lan folded her hands primly on her lap. She was wearing a veil, as customary for whenever she made a public appearance, but Yan Zheyun could tell that she was unamused.

"Are you trying to mingle with the literati or are you trying to climb into the fourth prince's bed?" she asked.

Fine.

Yan Zheyun looked down at himself. Yan Yun wasn't as tall and muscular as his old body had been and Yan Zheyun had noticed on more than one occasion that despite having poor stamina, Yan Yun was very flexible. Possibly because the author of 'Hurt Me in a Million Ways' knew that she had to at least give Yan Yun this one kindness before 'Contorting Him in a Million Sexual Positions'.

Yu Lan gave Yan Zheyun a critical once over. "You have a very slender waist and your face can ruin dynasties. But you don't have any dancing background?"

"None whatsoever."

She hummed thoughtfully. "What do you think about Prince Lanling?"

…is this the same Prince Lanling that Yan Zheyun knew from his mother's TV dramas? This historical figure was not a relative of his emperor but a warlord who had been granted a title for his military achievements. As the story went, he was tall and brave but had such a beautiful face that it detracted from his prowess in battle. To intimidate his enemies, he concealed his arresting visage behind a hideous mask whenever he fought on the front line.

The dance of 'Prince Lanling Entering the Fray' was also recorded in the annals but from what Yan Zheyun could recall from his high school classes, was the cause of his ultimate downfall. This was because his loyal generals choreographed this dance in honour of Prince Lanling's victory. But it enhanced his popularity so much that the emperor became jealous and ordered his death.

Yan Zheyun didn't know much about dancing at all. He hadn't even looked all that closely when some actress was performing a rendition of it on TV. So he didn't understand how a mighty, manly dance that was once performed by soldiers became a soft, willowy dance that had women twirling around in hanfu with billowy sleeves.

Judging from the spark in Yu Lan's eyes, he knew which version she was aiming for.

He sighed. "Could we keep the movements simple?" He didn't think he would be seducing very much if he tripped and fell over the hem of his costume two seconds in.

"Or you could practice constantly for the next month."

That was what Yan Zheyun ended up doing. The Minister of Rites had removed him from all other tasks, so every morning, Yan Zheyun rose at the hour of the tiger, which was the ungodly 3 a.m. Only officials who had to travel into the palace for morning court and servants on duty would be awake at this time. But now Yan Zheyun, who had become used to a more relaxed pace in the stables, found himself crawling out of bed groggily to begin a full day of torture.

Technique, gracefulness, expression, flexibility, and finally the routine itself. Yu Lan incorporated all of these aspects into his rigorous training. Despite how hard a taskmaster she was, Yan Zheyun found himself more and more respectful of her. She was a true professional, accepting the Minister of Rites' money with confidence and then delivering impeccable service.

If she had been born in his times, he would have hired her as an employee, no questions asked. It was a shame that as a woman, and one that wasn't born into a good family, the highest she could climb in this world was to be a concubine of a rich or powerful man.

But Yan Zheyun couldn't go around pitying others. He himself was in hot soup.

"Lower your waist more, extend your leg further—ah, your balance is too poor. Start again with the exercises that strengthen your lower limbs."

"That's not an elegant swan's neck, that's a broken chicken's neck, do you wish to be sent for slaughter when the fourth prince's eyes get defiled?"

"Arms, arms, watch your arms, I know Prince Lanling's a general and this move is likened to him raising his weapon overhead to strike his enemies but can we pretend that the weapon is a graceful sword and not a brutish axe?!"

"The gods have blessed you with such a perfect face, how on earth did you manage to make it look so dour?! You're lucky you'll be wearing a mask for the performance but at least try and keep on a mysterious smile? The way you're grimacing, everyone would guess that you have piles."

"…"

Yan Zheyun didn't have piles, he was grimacing because his entire body was battered and sore from overuse. Despite Yan Yun's innate flexibility, learning a dance well enough to perform in front of the imperial court was no mean feat. Not to mention that he was a complete beginner. And it didn't seem to matter that Yan Zheyun had martial arts training in the past. His coordination was still there but his stamina was all Yan Yun's, which meant that he had next to none.

And he'd thought he'd become stronger after all that work in the stables too. Was it all a lie? Were the slim muscles he'd developed just for show? To make this body even hotter than it already was?

He grabbed a clean handkerchief and wiped the sweat off his brow. This was exhausting. But if it worked, then he would be one step closer to being free. And one step closer to power.

That was good enough motivation to keep forging on ahead.

——————————

The next couple of weeks passed in the same vein. Yu Lan's scoldings slowly diminished until they became short reminders and suggestions for further improvement. And today, after performing the full routine for Yu Lan with musical accompaniment for the first time, Yan Zheyun finally earned himself a word of praise.

"You're very musically inclined," Yu Lan complimented. "You're able to follow the rhythm perfectly and enhance your moves according to the strong and weak accents."

[A piano diploma and 20 years of practising the guqin would do that to anyone…]

In a rare show of magnanimity, Yu Lan dismissed Yan Zheyun early, reminding him that his costume had been finalised and he would be wearing it to rehearse from tomorrow onwards.

The walk from the small martial arts hall that he was practising to his room was a long one. Yan Zheyun's legs were numb from the constant practice and he looked forward to returning and soaking them in hot water for some relief. The Minister of Rites had assigned a small servant boy to help him with little tasks like collecting his meals from the kitchen and massaging ointments into bruises or stiff muscles but the child was so young that Yan Zheyun couldn't bring himself to order him about.

He knew that it was the norm here but to him, asking an 8-year-old to serve him was child labour, no matter what the law on it was. And he'd already noticed by now, after the Xiao Ma incident, that he had a soft spot for small kids. They reminded him of his siblings and they could be weaknesses used against him if he let himself become too attached.

As such, he never kept the boy around him.

The corridors were already dim by this hour. It was fast approaching winter, the days growing shorter as the cold seeped into Yan Zheyun's bones. This was going to be his first winter and if he didn't change his living circumstances before the snow hit, he was probably not going to survive.

Up ahead, he saw some lanterns and heard the raucous laughter of some young, merry-making boys. He recognised their voices to be the second young master and his dandy friends, who often met for gatherings in the estate when they were too lazy to head out to the 'flower streets and willow alleys' where the brothels and tea houses were.

They were a rowdy crowd, nothing like the scholars that Wu Bin associated with. Liang Hui had pinned all her hopes on her older son and had reserved all her affections for the younger one. Yan Zheyun wasn't certain what kind of terrible parenting method this was but perhaps it was wiser than he thought. Wu Lang didn't have any ambition to overtake his brother and steal his position as family head. All he wanted was to live in the lap of luxury, a paltry expense that Wu Bin would be able to afford.

Yan Zheyun ducked behind a sculptured rock mountain in the gardens and waited for them to pass. Even from a distance, he could smell the drink wafting off them and their speech was slurred and careless.

"Second Young Master, you said that your brother's slave is really pretty, where is he? Why don't you bring him out so all of us xiongdis can admire him too?"

Loud cheers broke out at this comment. Yan Zheyun pressed himself further into his hiding place.

"He is very pretty," Wu Lang mumbled. There was a loud noise as someone slammed into a pillar on the corridor, followed by more hoots. "So so pretty, I was waiting for Big Brother to get bored of him before having my turn but that's not possible anymore."

"What, why not? We were waiting for you to share hahaha!"

"Yeah, wonder how many of us that boy can take at a time!"

Wu Lang's voice was resentful. "But my father's giving him to the fourth prince, let me tell you all a secret, but you can't tell anyone else okay? Shhhh…"

"Okay, okay, shhhhhhh…."

Yan Zheyun rested his forehead against the cool surface of the stone. He couldn't believe he was reduced to eavesdropping on a group of absolute idiots.

"Y'know the fourth prince? He was intending to fuck this manservant instead of that useless sister of mine."

Some of the less inebriated companions tried to hush him. "Second Young Master, shhh, let's stop talking about the fourth prince, it's a dangerous topic—"

"What dangerous topic?! He's just a lecher like all of us—"

The boy wasn't wrong, Yan Zheyun mused. He was also very, very loose-lipped. Yan Zheyun filed this away for further consideration. Perhaps it would be useful to him one day, perhaps not.

He waited until the crowd passed before slipping into the shadows unseen.