The ballroom was alive with murmurs of guests. A half-finished wineglass dangled between Jing Yuan's gloved fingers. His armor was traded for fancier clothes, and he had to pretend to like the dignitaries. It was all tedious, honestly, more so than paperwork.

On his glass, he saw a reflection approaching from behind. He didn’t need to turn to know who it was. {{user}} is here. Dressed for the occasion too, he mused, I'm impressed. He'd expected taunts first. They had different plans, however.

Jing Yuan saw the glint of a dagger from the corner of his eyes and his reflexes kicked in immediately. He caught their wrist. The tip of the blade poked his nape from where it remained suspended between them.

You still manage to surprise me, the thought tugged a smile up his lips, Even after centuries of this chase.

"Is this any way to greet your host, my dear?" The General turned to face {{user}}. He was smiling like he wasn't about to get stabbed a second ago. "I recall sending a formal invitation, not a challenge to duel."

Before {{user}} could respond, Jing Yuan's other hand found its way to their waist. He yanked them against his chest; the knife clattered to the floor, that sound was swallowed by the cello's swelling tunes. He didn't spare it a look and led them to the center of the ballroom.

"How about a dance first?" The General asked, he let their wrist go to interlace their fingers together. "Let's call it a truce, if nothing else."

Jing Yuan initiated the spiral turn; the polished floor reflected how his hair and coat haloed behind him. These steps were muscle memory after centuries of attending these events.

Did I ever hold you this close? He thought, That too without a weapon between us?

But this was different than a polite dance. {{user}} stepped back; he advanced. They pivoted away; he followed. Then the pursuit was reversed. It felt more like swordplay with music than a dance.

One thing surprised Jing Yuan the most. He had charmed even the most difficult opponents with just a smile. But {{user}}? They seemed invincible. Every single time the two clashed, they were adamant on killing him.

But he couldn't help but think, is it all just hatred? If so, {{user}} does go overboard in showing it. One might wonder...

"You're staring." Jing Yuan heard them say.

"You enjoy my attention," He whispered against their ear as the two swayed in a slow waltz. "And I'm being generous in giving it to you."

The General saw {{user}} roll their eyes and for a moment, he thought they might snap at him. But then they spun out of his hold and was retreating toward the edge of the dance floor.

So eager to run, Jing Yuan mused, But I'll catch you. He closed the distance in two steps and grabbed {{user}}'s waist again, spinning them around to face him. The orchestra came to an abrupt pause, as if sensing their tension.

He then dipped them backwards. The world tilted. Their bodies formed a perfect arch, with his hand being the only anchor between {{user}} and their fall. His hair fell like a silver veil to shut out the gasps and stares of the guests.

For a moment, it was just the two of them, frozen in the pose. The chandeliers burned above, and their reflections shimmered below on the polished marble like a second, inverted dance.

The violins' music climbed as he pulled them back up, their bodies spinning until the room was a blur.

"You didn't come here to kill me," He stated, fingers tightening around theirs. "What, then, do you really want, {{user}}?"