Chapter 164: Perfect Match

Lady Spring Rain grabbed him and whispered, "Hart is watching us from the chairman's seat, do you want him to mock us? Hold my waist, feel my presence, and follow my rhythm—"

Rayan obediently placed his palm on Lady Spring Rain's soft, slender waist. The sweat from his palm uncontrollably soaked her clothes. He could feel her fragile skin, yet his body became increasingly stiff like a rusted mechanical puppet, each movement provoking a snicker from the guests.

What others thought, Rayan didn't care. He only worried about being disliked by Lady Spring Rain. The more he worried, the more chaotic his dance steps became, stepping on Lady Spring Rain's feet five times in just a few beats.

"It's okay."

Lady Spring Rain always comforted Rayan without waiting for his apology. "You've improved, but you're still too stiff. A bit softer, a bit softer. Are you always this stiff?"

These words inevitably made Rayan think inappropriately. However, he quickly cleared those messy thoughts from his mind and seriously replied to Lady Spring Rain, "No, only when I dance."

Lady Spring Rain was surprised, "Does that mean you've danced before? Which girl was so lucky?"

"This is my first time," Rayan answered.

Lady Spring Rain paused for a moment, then burst out laughing, "So you're implying that it's my doing that you're so stiff."

"No, no, I'm not stiff..."

"Still saying you're not stiff? You think I can't feel it?" Lady Spring Rain scolded him like a younger brother, "At this point, your mind is still agile enough to joke. If only your body could sync with your mind, you would definitely amaze everyone."

No sooner had she finished speaking, Rayan stepped on her foot again.

"It's, it's okay."

This time it was a bit heavier, and even Rayan could feel it.

"I can't take it anymore," Rayan said.

"I still can," Lady Spring Rain responded.

"Forgive me, I'm going to force it."

Without further ado, Rayan lifted Lady Spring Rain up, letting her feet dangle above the surface of his Gale Boots.

Lady Spring Rain's mouth gaped open, her fingers digging into Rayan's solid muscles, wanting to scream but forcibly holding it back—because she knew that no matter what happened, Rayan would never put her in danger.

Rayan silently gathered his Fourth Tier Battle Qi, utilizing the speed of the Gale Boots to weave through the dance floor. His movements were large and powerful attack moves, yet with Lady Spring Rain's graceful figure, it was a perfect match.

On the dance floor, Rayan moved with dragon-like grace and tiger-like agility, Lady Spring Rain's long dress fluttering, and the hearts of the guests fluttered with it.

Lady Spring Rain had never felt so elated, her cheeks flushed with the most genuine and rustic smiles. Being lifted into the air by Rayan reminded her of her childhood, being held and danced with by her father. The feeling was both thrilling and deeply comforting.

Rayan's hands were large and powerful yet gentle. Lady Spring Rain felt completely supported in his palm, suddenly understanding what "dancing in the palm" really meant—it wasn't that the woman's body was light, but that the man was strong and powerful.

She leaned against Rayan's solid muscles, using his body as her support. Under the influence of alcohol, she performed various dance moves she would normally never attempt. Sometimes her movements were fluid like water, sometimes they were as delicate as flowers, leaving all the men and women breathless.

At the chairman's seat, Marquis Hart's face was ashen, his fingers tightly gripping a silver wine jug, barely suppressing the desire to throw it at the "despicable couple."

"My brother only died a few years ago, and this woman is already hooking up with others! How shameless!"

"—As far as I know, your brother died suddenly at a wedding banquet."

Marquis Hart turned in surprise to find Black Armor Commander Trevor standing next to him, arms crossed over his chest, his previous questioning statement obviously his own. Today was supposed to be a joyous occasion, but neither he nor his Black-armored guards had smiles on their faces, clashing with the atmosphere of the banquet hall, making Hart feel uncomfortable the moment he saw him.

"Ah, it's Commander Trevor, you gave me a real fright. When did you come stand next to me?"

Trevor glanced at the dance floor, "Since that 'despicable couple' started dancing."

Hart forced a smile, "Commander, you really love to joke. I never said anything about a 'despicable couple,' you must have heard wrong."

Trevor smiled coldly, "But your brother did indeed die suddenly, didn't he?"

Hart didn't answer yes or no but explained, "My brother was inherently frail and became too excited at the wedding banquet, drank too much, so..."

At this point, he appropriately bowed his head, pretending to wipe away tears, though there were none.

Trevor smiled faintly, "It's a pity that this is your family's private matter. The former patriarch didn't allow us Black-armored guards to intervene in the investigation, otherwise..."

Hart suddenly looked up, "What, Commander, you really want to bring up those sorrowful matters at my aunt's birthday banquet?"

Trevor unfolded his arms, "It seems I've touched on the Marquis's sad past, my apologies. I should go look for our Holy Light envoy and Redwood patriarch instead, ensuring the guests' safety is my primary task. I won't disturb Marquis Hart watching the 'despicable dance' any longer, and I hope Lord Hart can grieve properly for your brother."

After saying this, Trevor swung his cloak and turned toward the back hall.

"A birthday banquet and you tell me to grieve?!"

Hart could no longer endure Trevor's probing and mockery, grabbing the silver wine jug and flinging it towards Trevor's retreating back. Though he was impulsive and angry, he didn't dare actually hit Trevor, merely smashing it on the floor a good distance from him, the bright red wine splashing onto Trevor's cloak and instantly being swallowed by its blackness.

Trevor stopped but didn't turn around, just coldly smiled and muttered, "Foolish enough not to amount to much..." before walking away without further ado.

In this world where big fish eat small fish and small fish eat smaller shrimp, quarreling with a fool only makes oneself look foolish. A big fish, even if foolish, is still a big fish, while a foolish shrimp has no hope of salvation.

Hart slumped back into his seat, his outburst of anger only drawing brief attention before the guests quickly shifted their focus back to the dance floor.

Rayan and Lady Spring Rain continued to dance. His energy was abundant, and he could keep dancing for days and nights without feeling tired, especially with the woman he respected most in his arms. If there really were a God Race in this world, then Lady Spring Rain was his goddess.

Lady Spring Rain's cheeks were flushed like peaches, her body covered in a sheen of sweat. Although she was supported in the air by Rayan, the intense movements still left her somewhat exhausted. She gasped for breath and said, "Slow down, I can't keep up."

Rayan immediately slowed down the Gale Step, and the two remained close together, like two intertwining vines.

"I never thought you could dance like this—it's really—'forceful.'"

Lady Spring Rain gently chided, "Now look, everyone's watching us."

Rayan simply smiled, "No, clearly everyone is watching you, thinking they've come to a divine country."

Lady Spring Rain chuckled and pinched his arm muscles, "Are you always so good at making girls happy?"

Was this gesture a bit of playful banter between friends, or a hint of romantic flirtation?

Rayan's mind abruptly stopped.

Seeing him silent, Lady Spring Rain thought she had said something inappropriate and quickly whispered an apology, "Sorry, did I remind you of a girl you love?"

Rayan was about to answer when a figure bowing as he entered the banquet hall caught his eye—his muscles suddenly tensed, and his pupils shrank to the size of pinpoints. Even his hand on Lady Spring Rain's waist involuntarily tightened.

Lady Spring Rain winced in pain, furrowing her brows and letting out a low moan. "Rayan..."

Rayan suddenly came to his senses, relaxed his body, and concealed his emotions, but his gaze remained tightly locked on the person he wanted to rush up and decapitate.

"Duncan..."

Lady Spring Rain gasped, then pressed Rayan's head to her shoulder, "Don't let him find you here, let's keep dancing."

Rayan couldn't say anything, just clenched his teeth and continued to stare intently at Duncan through Lady Spring Rain's flowing hair.

Duncan was blissfully unaware. He was much shorter than a year ago, as if someone had brutally chopped off part of his spine. His face was wrapped in dirty bandages that clearly hadn't been cleaned in a long time, with festering wounds visible beneath. As he walked past, sticking close to the wall, even the usually unflappable Black-armored guard crinkled their brows inside their iron helmets.

Not only had Duncan's height changed, but his entire demeanor had also completely reversed. His body was shriveled, his legs grotesquely curled under the filthy, ragged servant's robe, the once arrogant and imperious attitude completely gone, now just a barely living husk.

If not for their enmity, Rayan would certainly not have recognized Duncan's transformation. Over the past year, Rayan had grown taller and stronger, while Duncan seemed as if his soul had been scared away, not needing a sword to end his life—a mere gust of wind might suffice.

It was hard to imagine what had happened to Duncan over the past year, but as long as he was alive, Rayan had a chance to seek vengeance.