Redyi immediately gave up on finding out the truth—those words struck precisely at her weakest point. She handed out the pastries to the children, then helped Aunt Qin tidy up the room for a while. The timing was just right as she left; by the time she returned to the Xiyu Mansion, it was exactly when the two servant girls came for their dance lessons.

She taught them carefully and patiently. Knowing the training time was short, she wasn’t in a rush. She started from the most basic body movements and gradually worked up. After a few days of progress, she finally introduced simple dance routines.

Du Ruo had once mocked her, saying that by her slow method, the girls probably wouldn’t learn more than a few dances even by the time they entered the palace. Even Madam Yu showed some dissatisfaction, worried Redyi was wasting time. But her reasoning was sound:

“It’s easy to teach a few dances in haste, but without a solid foundation, they’ll only ever be able to perform those few routines. Once they master the basics, they’ll be able to choreograph their own in the future.”

Better to teach someone to fish than to give them a fish. Even Du Ruo couldn’t argue with that. From then on, Redyi taught dance without further interruption.

. . .

The place for lessons was always the main hall of the innermost courtyard of the music quarters. As Redyi was walking in, passing the second yard, Green Sleeve suddenly ran out to block her.

Redyi was stunned, but Green Sleeve’s face was beaming as she shoved an envelope into her hands.

“Here, take it.”

Redyi looked it over—there were no markings on the envelope. Curious, she asked what it was. Green Sleeve replied,

“Housekeeper Qi brought it earlier. The Young Lord said, from now on, you don’t need to spend money on those orphans anymore—this is the money you already spent. He’s returning it to you.”

“…!” Redyi was surprised. She opened the envelope and saw a neat stack of silver notes. Joy instantly bloomed on her face—she felt the distance to her freedom had just gotten shorter. She handed the envelope back to Green Sleeve, smiling.

“Hold onto this for me, I’m going to teach.”

“Hold on!” Green Sleeve pulled her back and scolded,

“What’s the rush? That’s not the only thing—I’ve got more news.”

Redyi, eager to get to her lesson, was almost at the door and now forced to stop. She frowned and urged her,

“Just say it already!”

Green Sleeve rolled her eyes dramatically and finally said,

“The Young Lord has allowed you to resume your duties as a court dancer.”

“…What?!” Redyi’s voice was so loud Green Sleeve’s ears hurt. Rubbing them, she snapped,

“Yes! You’re allowed to dance again! No more sweeping duties, and you can sleep through the night. I stopped you because there’s a banquet tonight—celebrating the victory and the Young Lord’s new title. We’re rehearsing in the main hall. After you finish teaching the girls, come join us. Don’t be late.”

Redyi stood stunned with joy. After a long pause, she finally snapped back to reality and nodded excitedly. Even the gloomy sky outside seemed brighter. Her heart was full of sunlight.

This was the best news she had heard in days. Her desire remained unchanged—if she could keep dancing, she could endure anything.

. . .

Even the two servant girls noticed her unusual good mood that day and pestered her during their break to find out what happened. After hearing the reason, though not fully understanding her joy, they still offered their congratulations.

By Shen hour, the lesson ended. Redyi practically ran to the main hall.

Changing into her dance attire, she stepped into the spot clearly reserved for her, inhaling deeply. It felt like ages since she had joined a proper formation.

The zither and flutes played in harmony; music swirled through the hall as sleeves fluttered like waves, flowing on until You hour.

Everyone withdrew to the side room to rest briefly before the formal performance.

Faintly from the side room, they could hear servants announcing the arrival of guests. After only a few names, Redyi was already feeling nervous—these were truly high-ranking nobles. In modern terms, this banquet was the kind that ordinary people could only gossip about online—if they were lucky enough to catch any details at all.

The dances didn’t interrupt the clinking of glasses and laughter. Performances at feasts were often ornamental—pleasing if watched, unobtrusive if ignored.

But that didn’t mean the dancers could slack off.

Spinning among swirling skirts and quiet chatter, Redyi focused entirely on the music. Her spirit and movements aligned as she danced flawlessly.

They performed three group dances, each equally divided among the dancers. Afterward, they bowed and withdrew from the hall. Singers would come next, performing soft and elegant tunes that wouldn’t disturb conversation.

Outside the hall, a cool breeze blew. After a short rest, most dancers returned inside. Green Sleeve and the others went back. Redyi assumed her part was done and was just about to follow when Du Ruo stopped her.

“Redyi.”

They all turned. Du Ruo walked over with a sweet smile.

“There are a lot of guests tonight, and we’re short-staffed. You’ll serve Young Master He.”

Redyi blinked. She realized that the other dancers had returned to wait on guests. Uneasy, she glanced at the others, but Du Ruo had already explained:

“Technically, you were gifted by the Princess and meant to serve the Young Lord. But he’s never had that intention. Since we’re short-handed, you need to help.”

So… Xilin Chuan had no plan to make them his concubines.

Redyi understood. She’d heard as much when she first arrived. The Princess had gifted them with obvious intentions, but Xilin Chuan had only ever treated them as performers.

A cold wind stirred, making Redyi shiver. She didn’t know what she was afraid of. Du Ruo stood smiling—not unkindly, but with no room for refusal.

Tonight, Du Ruo was in charge.

“Then I’ll head back first…” Redyi gave a hesitant farewell to the others and followed Du Ruo back into the hall. They moved quietly along the walls, disturbing no one. When they reached the back of a guest, Du Ruo whispered,

“That’s Young Master He in the blue robe—He Qing.”

Redyi followed her gaze and nodded. Du Ruo added,

“He’s the youngest son of General He—be careful.”

Redyi responded quietly. Du Ruo said no more and walked off to serve another guest. Redyi steadied herself and approached He Qing.

She knew this had some implications of “entertainment,” but it was still a formal banquet—nothing inappropriate should happen. The other guests seemed to behave, likely due to their status. Though some laughed and chatted with dancers, none crossed any lines.

She comforted herself with that thought—this was a different world, and some customs had to be accepted.

. . .

When she reached He Qing’s side, he was drinking quietly. Redyi knelt and refilled his cup. His gaze swept over her, and he asked,

“What’s your name?”

“Redyi,” she answered, keeping her eyes forward and placing the wine pot back.

“This name…” He chuckled. “Did the Champion Marquis give it to you?”

It sounded like small talk, but the mocking undertone was unmistakable. Redyi’s heart tightened.

“I already had this name in Princess Minyan’s residence.”

He Qing raised an eyebrow.

Then came a cryptic comment:

“Indeed, the Emperor’s kin. Even their dancers come directly from the Princess herself.”

Redyi didn’t know how to respond. As he drained his cup, she reached to pour more—when suddenly, his arm wrapped around her waist.

She froze. Her hand trembled, the wine spilled slightly.

“Y-Young Master He…”

But his grip didn’t loosen. He set the cup down, his other hand brushing the pale skin of her neck, accentuated by her red dress.

Redyi felt a wave of nausea rise. She was about to push him away when he suddenly let go.

“Why don’t you come home with me, little beauty?”

Her blood went cold.

Turning away, she steadied her breath.

“Young Master He, please conduct yourself with respect.”

“Respect?” His tone turned playful. “What, you think being a Marquis’s dancer is better than being my concubine?”

Redyi’s heart sank. There was more behind this than she understood. She had to get out.

He waited, then slid his hand from her waist to her shoulder and gripped tightly.

“Answer me!”

She winced. The glittering banquet scene before her blurred.

“You’re drunk…” she managed, struggling to break free. As she stood, he grabbed her shoulders and spun her around.

“Ah—” she cried. He looked at her with a fury that could devour her.

He reached for her collar. She screamed again.

Instinct took over—her mind snapped awake. She groped blindly at the table, grabbed something, and smashed it down!

He Qing grunted in pain and covered his head.

The grip on her shoulders loosened. Redyi didn’t hesitate—she bolted. Her skirts tangled underfoot, but she didn’t dare stop.

Guests turned. The music stopped. The hall erupted in confusion.