As the host’s announcement echoed through the hall, the audience broke out into mixed applause—some clapping with genuine excitement, others whistling and jeering.
All eyes shifted to the stage.
The stage went completely dark. After a long moment, a single cold, white spotlight cut through the darkness, and the girl slowly lifted her pale face. The tips of her soft hair shimmered as though dusted with silver.
A few loose strands fell against the curve of her neck, her lips like delicate rose petals. Her features were refined to perfection—radiant, yet pure.
From the instant she stepped out, the audience fell silent.
Xu Linlang struck her opening pose, and with it came a rush of memories from her past life as a dancer. When the music began, her body trembled involuntarily.
For the first time, she truly felt what it meant to live again.
She hadn’t even started dancing, yet the audience was already whispering:
“Wow… she’s beautiful. And so elegant.”
“Yeah… even before she moves, it already feels like it’s going to be amazing.”
“Just her starting pose alone—it’s art.”
“Come on, wake up! Have you forgotten who she is? She’s just putting on airs, trying to fool us with some flashy pretense.”
Meanwhile, the Mecha Academy professors in the audience were stunned when they heard the program announced. After confirming they hadn’t misheard, they fixed their attention on the stage.
Some of them knew ballet well—especially Swan Lake, one of the most iconic works in ballet history.
There’s a saying: to watch ballet, you must begin with Swan Lake.
Among the empire’s upper classes, everyone knew it, but only a handful of dancers could ever master the dual roles of White and Black Swan.
It wasn’t just about technique, like the famous 32 fouetté turns—it demanded an overwhelming emotional depth most couldn’t fathom.
The 32 fouettés were the ultimate measure of a ballerina’s skill.
Onstage, under everyone’s gaze, Xu Linlang lowered her lashes, steadied her emotions, and began to dance.
With the soaring notes, she moved light, fast, and precise, gliding across the stage. Her pointed feet stretched graceful lines, her hair sweeping arcs of silver under the light with each motion.
Then came the test—she rose en pointe on one leg, using it as her axis, while her other leg whipped high through the air like a lash, spinning her into a series of fouettés.
One turn… five turns… ten… twenty… thirty…
The relentless spins sent a jolt through the audience’s nerves. Just when they thought she would stop, she didn’t—she kept going.
Past thirty-two.
She was lost in the music, unable to pull free. Sweat poured down her brow, but her focus never wavered.
Her falling sweat glimmered under the lights, like stardust scattering across the stage.
The audience was awestruck.
Her dazzling technique thrilled their senses, but beyond that, the raw emotional force of her dance gripped their hearts.
Forty turns.
Clenching her jaw, she completed the final spin. The music cut off, and she bent forward into an elegant bow, chest heaving as she caught her breath.
The audience was struck dumb. Some gaped in disbelief, others sat entranced, unable to return from the spell of her performance.
In that moment, they realized—ballet was no outdated relic. Like any modern dance, it had the power to strike the soul.
Every move she made had been pure perfection.
Jin Huan couldn’t help but blur out a curse from the crowd. “Holy shit. That was insane.”
A single performance had stirred even someone like him, who’d never cared for “high art.” The impact on everyone else was immeasurable.
Beside him, Lu Xiao clapped calmly. Only then did the others realize and rush to join in. The applause swelled like thunder rolling through the hall.
Excited voices broke out: “Encore! Encore!”
Some of the boys were completely smitten.
“Damn, they say beauty can kill—if I had a girlfriend like that, she could ‘kill’ me a hundred times a day and I’d thank her.”
“I heard Marshal Xu’s wife originally wanted her to attend the Imperial Arts Academy, but she insisted on enrolling here instead.”
“Don’t tell me she came here for Lu Xiao? He’s rejected her so harshly already, yet she still has the guts? If I were him, after that performance, I’d have a hard time resisting.”
“I saw him clap! He was the first one, too…”
They weren’t exactly whispering. Yao Mo heard every word, and her face darkened.
Su Yilu quickly covered, “So what if she can dance? If she was supposed to go to the Imperial Arts Academy, no wonder. But this is a military school. Ballet won’t do her any good here.”
Hao Xinyi nodded furiously. “Exactly! We’re not trained dancers because we don’t have the time or resources. We’ve got more important things to do.”
Yao Mo, however, looked troubled. “I just think it’s unfair. Our soldiers are out there bleeding on the battlefield, and the nobles have the luxury to spend years learning ballet. It makes me lose faith.”
Her words silenced the boys. They didn’t dare praise Xu Linlang any further.
Qiye, pale and exhausted, leaned against the gate just to stay standing. His entire body trembled at the cellular level, yet the sight of the girl on stage eased him.
She didn’t need his help.
He didn’t know why his body had suddenly reverted from beast form to human, but when he saw her, he understood.
He hadn’t wanted her to be forced into performing for his sake, only to face ridicule.
If this gala was going to hurt her, he would’ve destroyed it without hesitation.
That belief alone had carried him here, draining his strength as he ran.
And then—
He saw her take that opening pose, soft yet radiant, and in that instant, she captured him completely.
A pang of bitterness struck him.
He was the one closest to her, the one who knew her true nature best—so how had he let himself believe those rumors? That she was talentless, spoiled, bound to embarrass herself on stage?
The girl before him was nothing like the gossip. She was kind, sincere, and though her eyes still carried an untamed fire, it only made her shine brighter.
He had known this… and still he doubted. That wasn’t just mistrust—it was an insult.
Yet today, with her dance, she had shattered every rumor and shown what it truly meant to be noble.
His strength finally gave out. He crouched down, biting his lip against the pain, trying to steady himself before leaving.
But the last of his power slipped away. Control fled him.
In the next moment, Qiye shrank back into his small white cat form.
When he lifted his head, Xu Linlang was standing right in front of him.
He froze. “Meow?”
Sam Williams On TYMIMA Chapter 152