Longing for Love (Twice Reborn) - Chapter 24
The drumbeat sounded once more. This time, the flower fell to Yuan Zheng.
Yuan Zheng was skilled in all eighteen martial arts, but Xu Yang disliked watching people wield swords and spears. After a moment’s hesitation, he also chose to answer a question.
Lin Zongbai opened the brocade pouch and suddenly paused.
Lu Feng remarked, “Seems like an awkward question has arrived.”
Lin Zongbai cleared his throat and said expressionlessly, “Are you a virgin?
If not, raise your cup.”
Yuan Zheng had just lifted his cup to moisten his throat when, upon hearing this, he spat out his tea in shock.
Around them, scattered laughter rose from the men, while the girls lowered their heads in bashful embarrassment.
Someone chuckled and sighed, “This really is a bit awkward.”
Another teased, “Would the imperial son-in-law back out of the game?”
Yet another tried to ease the tension, “Well, you’re already married, so it’s not that bad.”
But of course, there were those who loved stirring the pot, muttering, “What if he still is, even after marriage?”
Amidst another wave of soft laughter, Yuan Zheng remained silent for a moment before lifting the wine pot, pouring a cup, and raising it in acknowledgment.
Juchen couldn’t help but widen her eyes in disbelief.
She distinctly remembered that Yuan Zheng and Xu Yang had never consummated their marriage since their wedding Xu Yang had told her so herself. There was no reason for her to lie, nor any need.
Could it have been someone else? But Yuan Zheng had never kept concubines or mistresses.
Juchen’s heart swirled with bewilderment, and her stunned expression did not escape Song Mi’s notice.
The drum sounded again, and this time, the flower stopped just as Juchen passed it to Song Mi.
“Does this count for both of them?”
“Why not have them answer a question together?”
Song Mi turned to Juchen for her opinion, his tone casual. After a brief silence, Juchen nodded in agreement.
A maid brought the brocade pouch, and Song Mi gestured for Juchen to pick one.
Juchen randomly selected one.
The maid handed it to Lin Zongbai, who opened it. Unlike his earlier impassive expression, this time he glanced at Song Mi, a hint of mischief flashing in his eyes as he grinned and read, “Are you a virgin? If not, raise your cup.”
The moment the words left his mouth, Xu Yang couldn’t help but laugh in exasperation. “Are these questions weighted in frequency?”
Lin Zongbai nodded. “They are. Some appear more often than others.”
Lu Feng asked, “Is this based on popularity among the common folk?”
“Yes.”
“How is the capital so full of idle people?”
“Ha ha ha.”
“Though this question really targets the men. The ladies don’t even have to answer they can just drink.”
“Little Chen, you didn’t pick this on purpose, did you?”
The implication was clear as if she had deliberately chosen this to expose someone’s private life.
Juchen’s voice rose slightly in protest. “I really did pick it at random!”
Xu Yang chimed in, “It was my brother-in-law who told her to pick. Besides, she has to drink anyway why would she cheat like this?”
“Zhengzhi, you’ll just have to take this one.”
Though they feigned sympathy, everyone present was undeniably burning with curiosity.
The many pairs of eyes fixed unwaveringly on Song Mi’s hands proved it whether commoners or nobles, everyone in this world harbored an earnest, gossip-loving heart.
Lu Feng clicked his tongue. “This question is meaningless for him anyway. He doesn’t even have…”
Song Mi sat silently in his seat for a moment before mirroring Juchen’s action raising his cup and draining it in one go.
Lu Feng suddenly choked, his mouth gaping wide enough to fit a duck egg, repeatedly spitting out several “fvck” words.
After much deliberation, he blurted out, “Could it really be that little eunuch?”
Song Mo remained silent.
Was this fucking tacit confirmation? Seeing Song Mo’s rare expression of neither defense nor retort, Lu Feng’s “fvck” through gritted teeth grew louder.
Strange murmurs immediately erupted around them. Lin Zongbai also seemed surprised, frowning for a long moment before suddenly teasing Song Mo with a smile, “In my years of experience, questions like these tend to trigger cycles. The next question might well ask who that person is.”
No sooner had he spoken than Juchen’s hand under the table curled slightly, almost imperceptibly.
The game continued.
This time, the floral ball indeed landed in Song Mo’s hands again.
Holding the ball, he narrowed his eyes slightly, involuntarily glancing at Lin Zongbai, who was beating the drum ahead, seriously suspecting him of doing it on purpose.
Lin Zongbai looked back at him with great interest, eagerly handing over the brocade pouch to draw the next question.
Song Mo stared at the pile of pouches in silence for a long while, then almost imperceptibly glanced at Juchen’s eyes, filled with panic beneath her calm expression. Suddenly afraid to gamble, he said solemnly, “I choose a talent performance.”
Lin Zongbai let out a disappointed “oh,” handing over the talent pouch. Song Mo skimmed through and picked one embroidered with orchids.
Opening it, Lin Zongbai curled his lips, “Please perform the dance piece, ‘Song of Everlasting Sorrow.'”
Song Mo’s expression froze as worried discussions for him arose around them.
“A dance piece? Can His Highness dance?”
Lu Feng answered for him, “He does know this dance, but it requires two people.”
“Emperor Ming and Lady Yang need a girl who can dance this piece.”
“We could find a dancing girl, though it might be troublesome.”
“Isn’t there a single girl here who can do it?”
Just as they were fretting, someone suddenly remembered, “Hey, Juchen, isn’t this your favorite dance piece?”
“Here’s your chance to make amends!”
“If you’re willing to partner with His Highness for this dance, he surely won’t hold your isolation against him anymore.”
Juchen couldn’t help but interrupt, “I didn’t isolate him.”
“Help him out, look, he’s already looking at you.”
Juchen turned her head and indeed fell into Song Mo’s deep gaze.
Song Mo gave her the distance she wanted but actively inquired, “Can you dance, Lady Li?”
Xuyang laughed, explaining for her, “She’s dabbled in everything, but she’s especially practiced hard on this dance because she loves it.”
After a thought, Xuyang added, “But she’s rarely found her ideal partner.
There’s a part in the dance where ‘holding in the palm, treasured like a pearl’ requires great arm strength from the man. Don’t be fooled by Juchen’s slim appearance; she’s actually quite solid. Most dancers can’t lift her.”
Juchen’s face flushed, “Ranran.”
She knew Xuyang didn’t mean she was fat, but as for whether she had meat or where it was, no one here knew better than Song Mo. Unavoidably recalling some rather vivid scenes, Juchen turned her head away, not daring to meet his eyes.
“A warrior could lift her, but most warriors aren’t good at dancing.” Xuyang glanced at Yuan Zheng, then seemed to realize, “Uncle, how come you learned dance pieces?”
Lu Feng answered with a smile on Song Mi’s behalf, “He’s also skilled in many things. This dance piece is Her Majesty the Empress Dowager’s favorite, so he’s put more effort into learning it than others.”
The crowd couldn’t help but show anticipation, starting to egg them on: “Why not give it a try?”
Juchen: “I…”
“Zhengzhi, why don’t you ask her properly?”
“That’s right, young ladies tend to be shy.”
“Didn’t you just help her win at pitch-pot? Now she can return the favor.
This way, you’ll be even.”
“Perform together once and become friends. Some past grievances needn’t be dwelled upon.”
Clearly, these people who had received ceramic gifts from Juchen perhaps feeling obliged were all trying to help them reconcile.
Juchen could only look pleadingly at Song Mi, hoping he would outright refuse.
Song Mi glanced at her: “May I trouble Lord Li to do me this favor?”
Juchen: “…”
The surrounding cheers grew louder. Juchen felt her scalp tingle and had no choice but to lower her eyes in agreement: “But I didn’t bring dance attire.”
Lin Zongbai quickly laughed: “That’s no trouble at all.”
Not only did he provide dance attire, but by the time they changed downstairs, he’d even prepared a stage for them.
After changing, Juchen sat before the dressing room mirror doing her makeup.
Seeing the increasingly familiar reflection, her expression froze as memories suddenly transported her back to a previous life recalling an identical scene.
Like her, the Empress Dowager had adored the dance piece “Song of Everlasting Sorrow.”
That year, when the palace celebrated her fiftieth birthday, nearly every female official under her command performed a talent as tribute.
Juchen had submitted “Song of Everlasting Sorrow” to the Imperial Household Department, only to find it clashed directly with Prince Pengshan’s proposed performance.
Neither side would yield.
Lin Zongbai, specially invited by the Imperial Household Department to oversee the banquet, had no choice but to report the matter to the Empress.
The Empress shook her head, laughing for a long while before summoning them that same day: “You both wish to perform this piece?”
“I submitted my request first.”
“Lord Li speaks as if time were the measure. Your Highness, I’ve been preparing this for far longer.”
“How much longer? Since when exactly? Do you have proof?”
“Naturally longer than you. I hear Lord Li hasn’t even found a dance partner yet such haste shows little sincerity.”
“Hah! As if Your Highness has found one either. Had you an ideal partner, would you have delayed submitting until now?”
Seeing them bicker again, the Empress raised a hand with amused exasperation: “In that case, why not combine your performances into one?”
Lin Zongbai, standing nearby, eagerly nodded: “Perfect one as Emperor Minghuang, the other as Consort Yang. Combined, neither needs to concede.”
The two opponents in the hall simultaneously frowned, pointing incredulously at each other: “With him/her?”
Lin Zongbai, reveling in the drama, turned to bow to the Empress with a smirk: “Truth be told, this subject is rather anticipating their joint performance.”
After all, their famous political rivalry had lasted years. To see them collaborate would undoubtedly make this banquet unforgettable!
The Empress reclined on her daybed, chin propped on hand, blooming with delight: “We are most anticipating this as well.”
The two: “…”
The imperial decree had been spoken.
Even if it was like forcing a duck onto a perch or pushing a cow’s head into water, Juchen had no choice but to silently change into her dance costume after work each day and steel herself to go to the prince’s residence. There, in his vast garden by the waterside pavilion, amidst a flock of white waterfowl, she would stare wide-eyed with him and engage in intimate embraces.
The only thing Juchen hadn’t anticipated was that she, who was quite substantial in weight, became as light as a swallow when in his hands.
She had originally thought he would mercilessly mock her weight, perhaps even bring it up repeatedly every day.
Yet throughout the entire dance, their coordination was so seamless that not a single misstep occurred.
—
To create the perfect stage atmosphere, Lin Zongbai focused the loft’s lighting on the central area.
All the audience members were moved behind the curtains into dimly lit spaces.
The two performers entered from opposite sides of the stage, gradually meeting at center stage.
Legend said Imperial Consort Yang had foreign ancestry, so the dance began with Juchen taking the stage first. Adorned with jade ornaments that tinkled with each movement, she revealed a glimpse of her slender waist while holding a foreign fiddle, stepping gracefully as she gazed skyward.
Song Mi stood nearby with hands clasped behind his back, watching leisurely like Emperor Xuanzong admiring every inch of the woman’s beauty, a faint smile playing on his lips, his eyes brimming with unspoken tenderness.
Now he appeared completely natural, effortlessly immersed in the performance.
But in his previous life, Song Mi still remembered how his body had frozen with unprecedented stiffness when he first saw her waiting by the pavilion in her dance costume.
Having grown accustomed to her serious official demeanor her long robes and hair neatly tucked under her official hat he was momentarily taken aback when she transformed back into this delicate feminine figure, almost unrecognizable.
Noticing his arrival, she frowned and issued a crisp warning before rehearsal: “No taking liberties with me!”
He responded with a cold chuckle.
Yet how could a tragic, beautiful love dance exist without physical contact?
His hands settled on her slender waist, lifting her as if cradling the most exquisite flower of an era, then bending and turning until this delicate blossom came to rest against his shoulder.
He felt her orchid like breath whisper against his ear, caught the faint trace of her unique fragrance.
As she leaned against his chest and their eyes met in embrace, he looked down at her picturesque features like a gentle breeze, like the bright moon.
In that moment, he suddenly understood why so many young men had once vied to invite her to lantern festivals.
He could not help imagining how those clear, beautiful eyes would reflect the dazzling lantern lights and enchanting night scenery what mesmerizing splendor that would be, truly matchless beauty.
On stage, Juchen completed the playful prelude, set down the fiddle, and extended her hand to him.
Song Mi’s tall, athletic frame made Juchen who wasn’t short herself appear petite and delicate in his arms.
Graceful as a startled swan glancing at its reflection, supple as a water dragon frolicking by the shore.
Her sleeves fluttered like immortal garments in the wind, reminiscent of the Feather Garment Dance.
They danced through meeting, passionate love, imperial favor, until finally the separation of life and death.
When performing Consort Yang’s tearful demise, as Juchen’s acting tears fell, Song Mi’s heart involuntarily clenched.
Though knowing it was merely performance, he still couldn’t bear to see her tears.
At this moment, Juchen was momentarily lost in thought, her memories abruptly returning to her past life. She recalled a time when they were rehearsing together until the very end, yet her tears continued to fall like unstrung pearls without pause.
Song Mi, unusually kind, handed her a handkerchief and asked with a raised brow, “Are you lamenting their ill-fated love?”
Juchen sniffled and scoffed lightly, “I’m grieving for the unfair death of Consort Yang.”
“In an era like that, a world where men were revered and women despised, with the empire collapsing how much fault could a delicate woman like her, who couldn’t even harm a chicken, truly bear? She was merely a scapegoat.”
The more she thought about it, the angrier she became. She stood up abruptly and declared with conviction, “Any man who can’t protect the woman he loves is unworthy of love!”
Remembering how Song Mi’s eyes had widened slightly at her words, Juchen felt a pang in her chest and suddenly regretted it. She truly regretted instilling such an idea in him.
In that brief moment of distraction, Juchen missed a few dance steps, and as she turned, her movements tangled with Song Mi’s.
He accidentally tripped her.
Seeing Juchen tilt forward, about to fall headlong, Song Mi quickly grabbed her wrist, using the momentum of their spin to soften her descent.
In the end, they went with the mistake instead of her falling into his arms, she ended up holding him in hers.
Juchen lay on the ground, embracing him, staring blankly as he closed his eyes in sync with the final notes of the song.
The spotlight converged on them like a skylight, and for a moment, it felt as though they had returned to that winter, inside that dim prison cell.
Even past forty, he had still deceived her, smiling as he claimed he was there to see her off only to secretly switch their wine cups.
She drank hers in one gulp, but the expected searing pain never came.
Noticing his unsteady steps as he turned to leave, she hesitantly moved forward to support him.
He coughed violently, as if unwilling to soil her dress, and pushed her away before collapsing to the ground. Bl00d suddenly gushed from his lips, staining her vision red.
A boulder of dread crashed down in her heart, leaving her mind blank. She rushed over, lifting him into her arms again. “Why did you do this?” she asked.
She did not understand she truly hadn’t understood back then.
His chest heaved as he struggled to suppress his coughs. He tried to raise a hand to touch her pale face but withdrew it at the last moment. Even speaking seemed laborious, yet he managed a serene smile and whispered faintly, “If there’s a next life.”
The dance reached its finale, the intertwined melodies of the konghou and flute fading like lotus petals weeping dew, vanishing bit by bit into the night.
From behind the curtain, the singer’s clear voice lingered in the air: “In heaven, we’ll be two birds flying wing to wing; on earth, two trees with branches intertwined. Though heaven and earth may pass away, this sorrow shall never fade.”