Gu Xin and Meng Yuting watched Avril with brows tight like willow leaves, their gazes misted like a pond at dawn, unsure of her intent.

Tang Coco’s heart knotted like a silk cord. By instinct, she didn’t want to agree; she knew ballroom, yet as a woman she’d never wanted to try paired steps with another woman. But the foreign investor before her had lowered her stance like a crane bowing, and a hundred eyes hung on them like lanterns in night fog.

After turning it over and over like pebbles in a stream, Tang Coco accepted. Her fingers rested on Avril’s hand, light as a dragonfly touching water.

Avril saw Coco accept and smiled, crescent-bright, then led her toward the hall’s center, guests parting like reeds opening to the current.

“How should I address the beautiful miss?” Avril asked, her voice warm as spring sun through gauze.

“Tang Coco,” she said, her tone soft as rain on silk.

“Then I’ll call you Coco. You do know how to dance, right?” Avril’s smile curved like a new moon.

“Mm.” She nodded, a small ripple across a still lake.

Fresh music rose like incense smoke, and the two began to move, slow as drifting clouds.

In the crowd, Ye Yiyi stood with Xu Yinuo, both staring in wide-lantern surprise at the two figures in the center; neither had expected Tang Coco to dance with Avril.

“Looks like you’ve got another rival,” Xu Yinuo breathed at Ye Yiyi’s ear, her words a feather on wind.

Ye Yiyi’s face stayed stone-still like a mountain cliff, then she suddenly took Xu Yinuo’s hand and strode for the center like a gust through bamboo.

“Hey—hey?!” Xu Yinuo stumbled after her, swept by the tide like a leaf on a stream.

They reached the middle and began dancing again, steps threading like twin ribbons.

“Xin’er.” Meng Yuting’s voice rose from the seats, bright as a bell in mist.

“Mm!” Gu Xin answered, a crisp note like frost.

The two stood, chairs whispering like bamboo, and moved together.

“Eh? Sis, you’re going too?” Meng Xiaoxiao blinked, surprise popping like firecrackers.

“Of course. Interest struck like a sudden breeze,” Meng Yuting laughed, tugging Gu Xin toward the center, their sleeves floating like pale cranes.

“Ugh… should’ve learned to dance,” Meng Xiaoxiao pouted, cheeks round as peaches.

Meng Yuting and Gu Xin slipped into the ring, steps fitting like interlocking jade; their true aim lay hidden like steel under silk, wary that Avril might try something with Coco. They didn’t know her plan, so they guarded close as shadow to flame.

Three pairs of beauties now held every gaze, a constellation gathering; the hall quieted like snowfall, and people watched with calm, appreciative eyes.

“Seems Coco’s partners are many,” Avril murmured to Tang Coco, a laugh glimmering like starlight on water.

“Mm… haha.” Tang Coco’s laugh came thin as a reed whistle; her heart prickled like nettles—why had they all rushed in to dance and make it even more conspicuous?

After a while, the music thinned like dusk light; the dance settled, and the women came to a stop.

“Thank you, Miss Tang, for the dance. Would you be willing to perform one more piece with me?” Avril faced Tang Coco, her voice ringing like a bell, loud enough to carry across the hall.

“Uh…” Tang Coco hesitated, a moth circling a lamp—why did she keep choosing her?

“Miss Tang seems shy. Everyone, give her some applause, will you?” Avril caught Ye Yiyi’s sharpening look and lifted her voice like a drumbeat.

Clap clap clap!

Applause rolled like summer rain on tiles, everyone joining in except the few women Coco knew.

Ye Yiyi almost surged forward to pull Coco away, but Xu Yinuo caught her wrist, grip steady as a pine root.

“Why? Can’t you see Coco doesn’t want this?” Ye Yiyi shouted, her words a tossed pebble swallowed by the roar, heard only by Xu Yinuo.

“Easy. Miss Avril’s decent; she won’t corner Coco. She must have a reason,” Xu Yinuo said, calm spreading like tea in hot water.

“…” Ye Yiyi fell quiet, her stare narrowing like crescent blades on the two figures at center.

“Alright…” In the end, Tang Coco agreed, the word drifting like a leaf on autumn wind.

“Thank you, Miss Tang. Please follow me.” Avril led her up to the stage, their joined hands thin threads of silk.

“Next, I’ll share my favorite act, a dance illusion called ‘Dance of Mirage.’” Her smile shone like polished jade.

Applause swelled again, waves slapping shore.

A classical, elegant melody unfurled, fine as brocade. With the music, Avril clasped Coco’s hand and began, guiding her like a river drawing a boat. Coco didn’t know the routine, so she loosened like unknotted silk and let Avril lead her into the pulse. As they found rhythm, Avril’s steps shifted—now quick, now slow—each motion carving grace like calligraphy in air. The guests watched, held by the sight like moths to moonlight; no one clapped, afraid to break the hush like a pond’s glass surface.

As the music crested, Avril’s movements widened like wings. Then, with a sudden sweep, pink rose petals drifted down from above, a shower soft as dawn.

“Wow—” gasps rose, a chorus like wind in pines; the scene was so beautiful that most assumed it was a planned stage effect.

But two in the crowd thought otherwise—Gu Xin and Meng Yuting, brows pinched like bees at honey.

“She used Anomaly Power! Isn’t she afraid of exposing it to ordinary eyes?” Meng Yuting whispered, her concern a chill like night air. They sensed the petals weren’t props but carried Anomalous Energy, glowing faint as embers.

“Didn’t expect she’d use Anomaly Power onstage. Or… is there another purpose?” Gu Xin watched the center, gaze hooked like a fish to a line.

At the same time, one more person caught the truth—Tang Coco, standing in the heart of it, her awareness sharpening like frost on glass.