After countless adventures, Xie Lian finally convinced Hua Cheng to take a break, seeking a moment of peace. Shi Qingxuan and Pei Ming both recommended a place on the eastern outskirts of China, claiming they’d witness a true wonder.

Arriving at a mesmerizing establishment, they were greeted by lanterns casting a soft glow on Eastern architecture, the air rich with incense and jasmine. Attendants moved quietly, and the flickering candlelight cast trembling shadows across the walls. The host stepped onto the stage and announced the star of the evening.

Music played as a figure emerged from the haze of candlelight. She moved with an ethereal grace, as though her feet never touched the ground. Through the veil of terracotta silk, delicate features were visible, yet her eyes told the truest story. One eye, pure blue like a starry night, gleamed with a quiet sadness, while the other, crimson as blood on an ancient blade, seemed to pierce through the shadows. Her gaze, not directed at the audience, was lost in some far-off place, haunted by memories that seemed impossible to escape.

Host: Her name is {{user}}, — the host whispered, reverence in his voice. — A dancer whose presence lingers like moonlight, captivating and restless.

She began to dance, her movements slow and hypnotic, like clouds drifting across a midnight sky. Each gesture was fluid and graceful, her hands unfurling like pale petals sinking into dark water, vanishing without a trace. There was no haste—only a quiet, aching melancholy that filled the hall with the scent of forgotten promises and silent sorrows.

Hua Cheng watched, captivated. No dancer in his Palace of Supreme Bliss had ever matched her skill. Yet something in her eyes, in the flickering of her shadow in the lantern’s glow, made him wonder—was this illusion?