Chapter 116: Performace

The concubines who would be participating on the third day of celebrations were exempt from attending the second day, in order to get some practice and some rest in as well as get their things in order for the performance.

Samaya opted not to go. As much as she hated to admit it, the arts weren’t her forte. That was more Ayden’s thing. He could spend hours on a guitar. No wonder he picked music up here too…

Stop.

She exhaled harshly and focused on Fu Caiyi in front of her. It would not do to spiral in the middle of their performance. 

“You’re distracted.”

Even Fu Caiyi could tell. But then again, she could always tell. Samaya was learning to accept that. 

“It’s nothing,” she deflected. “Just nervous for tomorrow.”

Fu Caiyi blinked, before letting out a soft smile that belied her disbelief, which was reflected in her words. 

“Qing Samaya, nervous? Who would have thought?”

She chuckled. “Well, I do not really have much aptitude for this kind of delicate art.”

It was true. She did love dancing, but she loved the kind of dances where she was allowed to go wild, move all her body, uncaring of the world. That kind of dance might send a lesser woman to the Cold Palace. Though… she did wonder what the Emperor would say if he ever saw her perform one of those … daring choreographies. 

“Mama!” Manu’s voice brought her out of her reverie. 

She pursed her lips and shook those thoughts out of her head, turning to see Manu running to her along with Ai and Mei, Ah-Liu, Lian, and two of Fu Caiyi’s maids behind them. They were also exempt from the celebrations today. But Manu clearly wanted to go, and if the constant puppy eyes and pitiful whines of Ai and Mei were any indication, they wanted to go as well. So, she ended up summoning Chen Zhongqing. The man could not come into the concubines’ residences without prior permission, so they ended up going to the boundary between the Inner and the Outer Court to hand the kids over, with the assigned maids to accompany them, with strict instructions to bring them back at least an hour before sunset.

She opened her arms and caught him the moment he ran into her, smiling softly as she rubbed his back. 

“Did you have fun?” She asked softly. 

He nodded against her stomach. 

Samaya tilted her head. That was less enthusiastic than she’d thought it would be. She knelt in front of him. 

“What is it?”

There was a pout forming on his lips. “Imperial Father did not allow us to visit the stalls today.”

Samaya raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” 

He nodded sulkily. “He said -” Manu deepened his voice deliberately, straightening his back and narrowing his eyes, “‘A mother’s permission is paramount. Since your mothers are not here to give permission, you cannot go.’”

That startled a laugh out of her. Like this, pretending to be the Emperor, Manu looked much like the man. There was no denying whose son he was. Nonetheless, it was funny how he was trying to mimic his father. It was adorable. 

The thought that the Emperor put her opinion above his own when it came to Manu warmed her heart. Surely, he was learning to do the same for the other mothers of the Harem. 

She rubbed his head. “All right, all right, you can go and check them again tomorrow.”

Manu beamed. “Teacher Chen said the same thing! He said I could go tomorrow since you’ll be there to give me permission!”

Samaya let out a soft laugh. “Yes, yes, Teacher Chen is right. That is why he is the teacher.”

Samaya then stood and turned, only to find Fu Caiyi reassuring her daughters similarly. Once she extricated herself from them, they shared a knowing, long-suffering smile before they stepped back into their practice. 

— — —

The next day, the concubines who would be performing had their curtains replaced with a partition. A one-way partition, which meant no one could see them, but they could see everyone. They could watch the performances without ruining the surprise of their costume and performances. She supposed a dramatic reveal would include a shock factor, and if it was enough to impress the Emperor, they might get a real chance at promotion. 

Though she was sure that was not the main reason. Whoever planned this probably just wanted as much of a show as possible. 

So, that was why they were told to come before everyone today. 

After the Emperor arrived and settled down, Manu wasted no time in getting his permission before running off with his sisters and Chen Zhongqing, with one more maid in tow. Samaya smiled softly as she watched him go. 

The performances were in order of ascending rank. So the unranked concubines went first. And then the ladies. Samaya and Fu Caiyi’s performance was one of the last. 

The other performances were beautiful. Most of them were typical, almost inseparable from all the other delicate dances, but beautiful nonetheless. Some stood out. Like a sword dance from a concubine who came from the Mountain Tribes. And a soulful song sung to the tranquil strings of the guqin she played. Another concubine with some sort of tap dancing, her anklets twinkling in rhythm with the drums, while her upper body turned and twisted and formed intricate shapes with her hands. Most were solo performances. They were competing, after all.

It was an hour after sunset that it was her turn. 

She and Fu Caiyi stepped out in tandem as they were announced. 

Heads turned. Murmurs rippled.

Fu Caiyi wore a beautiful jade gren hanfu with accents of white and lotus motifs spread across her robes.

Samaya - well, she wore the crimson robe made of blood silk that she was gifted by the man, her own lotus motifs a jarring black against the red. 

They both wore veils, Samaya’s the transparent silk that simmered like moonlight, dangerously alluring, and Fu Caiyi’s a deep green that promised serenity, beautiful yet mysterious.

They represented two sides of the same coin. Light and Dark. Good and Evil. Day and Night.

Samaya could feel hundreds of eyes on her. However, one particular set bored into her with such frightening intensity that she could feel it even without looking. As she took her position beside Fu Caiyi, she looked up to meet that gaze, burning into her from the Dragon Throne. Her eyes crinkled ever so slightly, mischievously smug at having the intended effect. 

Part of her had hesitated, wondering if she should go back on her previous decision of wearing this gifted hanfu, something that would tease and most certainly allure the Emperor without even trying, in the face of Ayden trying to plant himself back into her life. But stubbornness soon replaced the hesitation, and the woman who had once fought the entire damn TEA Council to go on that mission refused to back down. She refused to let anyone’s presence dictate what she might or might not do, even if that anyone was Ayden. 

She slipped into her starting stance. 

The lights surrounding the square dimmed slightly as the musicians took their places. A hush spread through the audience, silken curtains fluttering faintly where the Imperial women sat concealed. The first trembling strains of the erhu rose, low and wistful, like a sigh carried over water.

The ‘stage’ was already scattered with lotus petals of silk and paper, their colors catching the lamplight. From their midst, Samaya and Fu Caiyi stepped forth, robes flowing in crimson and jade. They moved as though blooming out of the lotus itself, every gesture deliberate, ceremonial. Their wide sleeves traced arcs of color in the air as they circled one another, their steps slow, ritualistic, the pipa’s crisp notes echoing their turns. It was not yet combat - it was invocation, an offering of grace before the storm.

The drums thundered suddenly, shaking the arena. The rhythm quickened, fierce and insistent, and so did the dancers. Samaya’s double daggers - once again gifts from the Emperor - flashed in her hands as she launched into sharp spins and swift drops, her body low and coiled like a predator. Beside her, Fu Caiyi leapt high, her sword still sheathed, her long robes flaring like wings. It reminded her that most noblewomen - and rich commoner women who could afford it - learned how to regulate and use their qi, if only to find better marriage prospects. Fu Caiyi was beautiful like this. Noble, full of strength and danger. Together, they filled the stage with motion - one descending, the other ascending, fire and wind in opposition yet always in tandem.

The audience gasped as Samaya flipped sideways, landing in a crouch just as Fu Caiyi spun through the air above her, their movements timed to the snapping plucks of the pipa. They clasped hands briefly in mid-motion before breaking apart again, mirroring one another’s stances with fierce intensity. It was a display of raw and untamed power, their bodies telling a story of rivalry and harmony all at once. The two opposite sides that needed each other to exist.

Then came the ringing sound of steel. The erhu wailed high, almost keening, as Fu Caiyi drew her sword in a single elegant motion. Samaya’s daggers gleamed in answer. The music surged, drums pounding like a heartbeat.

They clashed.

Steel struck steel in precise arcs, the pipa’s quick strokes catching every collision. Their duel was fierce yet restrained, every thrust and parry a practiced dance. Samaya’s daggers cut in tight, furious spirals, while Fu Caiyi’s sword swept broad and graceful, ribbons trailing behind in dazzling flourishes. They moved in tandem, walking on the tightrope of showing a thoroughly entrenched conflict while existing in harmony with each other. Her knives slid across Fu Caiyi’s sword, the jarringly screeching noise adding to the illusion of destruction created by the thundering of drums. 

They parted and circled each other, blades meeting and parting with a ringing clarity, until their movements seemed to resemble calligraphy in motion - strokes written in silver light, weaving the story of rivalry as old as time, of enemies who could not exist without each other. The erhu sobbed, the drums pressed faster, and together they raised their blades high, points angled skyward, as if to pierce the very heavens.

The music softened, the drums fading into a single heartbeat. Slowly, the women sank to their knees, back-to-back, blades laid reverently across their laps. Respect. And concord. From above, petals drifted down - pale silk blossoms settling over hair and steel alike, recalling the lotus from which they had begun. They had existed from the beginning of time, and they would exist to the end of it. Always fighting, always apart, only united by the burning twilight. 

The erhu drew out one last aching note, and then silence fell.

The hall erupted in applause.

Samaya lowered her head, chest rising and falling, sweat beading lightly at her temples. Through the roar of approval, she became acutely aware of only one gaze upon her. Against her better judgment, she let her eyes flick upward toward the dais.

The Emperor was watching her. 

His expression was unreadable to most, that familiar mask of composure carved into his face - but she had learned to read the smallest of shifts. The faint tilt of his head, the way his lips curved almost imperceptibly at the corner, the sharpened focus in his eyes that cut through the noise of the hall. She knew that look, of possessiveness, of desire. Almost instinctively, she responded with the lightest tilt of her head. 

They stood together and bowed to the man. 

“An outstanding performance by Our Noble Ladies,” the man said. “We are pleased.”

Samaya smiled softly from behind the mask as she heard Fu Caiyi breathe a sigh of relief. Samaya had heard the man utter these words for only one other performance today. 

“This lady is honored,” Samaya and Fu Caiyi spoke in tandem. 

The man nodded once in dismissal. They both bowed once and stepped away from the middle, making their way back to their designated seats. Samaya took Fu Caiyi’s hand in hers and squeezed as they walked together. All in all, the performance went far better than she expected.

She was about halfway there when a figure flashed in front of her. She tensed, her dagger slipping into her hand again as she stepped out in front of Lady Fu. Reflex.

She relaxed when she saw who it was.

Chen Zhongqing. He looked dishevelled, his eyes blown wide and his mouth parted as he took heavy, panicked breaths.

Samaya frowned. “What’s wrong?”

And then her eyes widened as she realized something. “Where’s Manu?”

He should not be here. Certainly not without Manu.

“Lady Qing,” he breathed out, wheezing as if every word he spoke was painful. 

“I cannot find him. I cannot find Prince Xu!”

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Author's Note: And here we have it! The storm! More incoming! XD

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