Waltz

Beneath the gloomy sky, a sea of crimson clouds slowly descended. The setting sun cast fragments of gold through the rifts in the clouds, spilling through the glass of the greenhouse and refracting into a magnificent display of shimmering red-gold hues.

When Bai Ling stepped inside, he could barely keep his eyes open.

Within his vision, slightly stinging from the light, the boundary between dusk and night unfurled into a backdrop. The glass of the conservatory partitioned the cold air from the humid warmth; had it not been for the large hole in the glass, everything would have appeared flawless.

But right before that jagged, imperfect opening, a man leaned against the frame, seemingly gazing out into the distance.

Bai Ling unconsciously slowed his pace, approaching the man’s silhouette from behind.

The sound of grass flattening underfoot alerted the other. The merman turned his face, and as he did, a gentle breeze brushed past, caressing the brilliant, molten-gold hair past him, merging almost seamlessly with the grandeur of the landscape.

Bold and vivid, it looked exactly like an oil painting.

“Good evening,” the merman said, his voice deep and resonant, like the low notes of a pipe organ.

Bai Ling stood dazed for a moment before shaking his head to break free from the hypnotic trance. He bent down slightly and placed the radio he was carrying on a corner of the lawn. “I fixed your thing.”

“What is it?”

“A radio. Now you can listen to the news by your bedside.”

Yu Chen lowered his gaze and smiled. His bird always remembered every detail of his daily habits without missing a single word.

“Did you come only to deliver a gift?”

“Why? Is a gift not enough?” Bai Ling countered.

“I thought it was to see me,” Yu Chen said softly, his voice carrying a certain lingering tenderness.

Bai Ling let out a soft huff, neither confirming nor denying. He knelt to adjust the radio’s antenna, flicking through several frequencies before stopping on a music channel.

A strange folk melody drifted from the honeycomb-shaped speaker. He didn’t know which race’s language it was, but it was melancholic and graceful. The breath of the song slowed gradually as it reached its end.

Taking advantage of the few seconds between songs, Bai Ling looked up and asked point-blank:

“Can you teach me to dance?”

He didn’t even ask if the merman knew how; he simply took it for granted that the man was a master of such things.

Yu Chen turned his body, placed his right hand over his heart, and bowed with elegant poise.

It was a silent consent, ready to go.

Bai Ling immediately smiled, crinkling his grey eyes. “You’re off. I’m fifteen degrees to your side.”

Yu Chen tilted his head slightly, smiling. “Then I shall need you to lead me.”

The coils from the last century vibrated as a classical melody flowed like a stream of memories from bygone days, tugging at the heartstrings.

Bai Ling’s heart pounded as he entrusted himself to the palm held open toward him.

Yu Chen whispered, “Mendelssohn’s Spring Song. It fits the occasion perfectly.”

Bai Ling curled his lip. Outside, the world was locked in ice and the snow hadn’t yet melted; how did this count as “spring”? However, he soon understood that this “spring” was of a different kind, especially when the older man’s calloused fingers locked around his waist, pressing slight creases into his clothes.

He looked down; the folds were like ripples on the surface of a lake in springtime.

Yu Chen leaned in and whispered in his ear, “Keep up with the teacher’s beat, little one.”

Guided by the sway of his waist, his entire body became a ripple, stepping forward in small strides and retreating with caution, rising and falling with the waves of the melody.

Yu Chen was clearly an experienced and excellent teacher.

Years, life experience, and countless interactions through social ballrooms had gifted this man with a stride of effortless ease. He knew exactly how to lead a young falcon who had not yet entered their mating season, feeling out the rhythm and using his body language to spark resonance.

“Have you taught others to dance as well?” Bai Ling asked curiously.

Faced with the child’s question, Yu Chen answered smoothly, “That was before I reached adulthood. It was a standard social activity during galas. By the end of a night, my hands would be sore from all the holding.”

Bai Ling pursed his lips and chuckled. “Then you must have squeezed the hands of every prince and princess from every nation.”

“Not quite,” Yu Chen recalled. “But I did squeeze the sheep hooves of the Federal Prime Minister’s son.”

“How did that feel?”

“I applied hand cream three times after leaving the floor.” It hurt.

An image flashed in Bai Ling’s mind: a sixteen-year-old, golden-haired Xiao Yi suppressing his annoyance, fishing a small seashell from his scale-lined pocket, digging out a bit of clam oil with his nail, and applying it seriously.

A refined and meticulous Little Prince.

Bai Ling loved hearing him talk about the bits and pieces of his past. From these few words, he could glimpse the trajectory of the older man’s maturity; it was like the joy of listening to a seller describe the history of a second-hand warship.

“And you? Who have you danced with besides me?”

Having passed the gentle, moderate prelude and adapted to each other’s rhythm, Yu Chen increased the leading speed slightly, shifting his center of gravity to signal Bai Ling to spin.

Amidst his uneven and unpracticed steps, Bai Ling slowly found the pattern. “I learned a bit in class, but I never practiced seriously.”

His dance partner had usually been Sava, and that stupid hen had spent the whole time stepping on his toes, leaving no room for actual practice.

“Was it that same feudal Etiquette class?” Yu Chen asked.

“Yeah… why else would I learn this for no reason?” Bai Ling’s breath came in short gasps as he spoke intermittently. “For birds, dancing is just courtship… I had to grit my teeth and learn a bit just to get it over with.”

Yu Chen half-lowered his eyes, the green within them so deep it looked ready to overflow. “You can dance the opening dance of the banquet with me.”

Bai Ling was spinning until he felt dizzy and said offhandedly, “Better not. I still have to dance with the Tyrant—”

The moment the words left his mouth, the radio’s style shifted. A Latino tune full of passion and flair kicked off. From that second, the atmosphere changed. The gentle accommodation and guidance turned into a dance of mutual testing between partners.

The distance of the stride, the angle of the brush-past, the strength of the locked palms, every muscle in the body came alive for a single purpose–

Wrestling for control.

Yu Chen’s breath remained steady, but the end of his tone grew noticeably heavy. “What are you planning to do? Strike him?”

He had known from the start that the bird’s purpose for infiltrating the palace wasn’t pure. However, he had assumed the other had long ago abandoned such unrealistic and reckless ideas.

“Cut him into pieces and feed him to the dogs,” Bai Ling’s plans was more brutal than what Yu Chen had imagined.

The muscles at the corners of Yu Chen’s eyes slightly flexed. He led Bai Ling through a perfect half-turn, stepping up with a small stride, his knee moving almost flush against the base of Bai Ling’s prosthetic leg. “Regarding this matter, I hope you will give it more thorough consideration.”

“Do you object?” Bai Ling shot him a sidelong glance.

His breath was entangled with the merman’s, and a thin layer of sweat broke out on the tip of his nose.

“I reserve my opinion, and I am not optimistic about this operation. You should have consulted me at least a month in advance.” Yu Chen was dressed in a loose-fitting French shirt; as they switched steps, a slight breeze filled the delicate, smooth fabric.

It was like a sail catching the wind.

“I didn’t even know you a month ago,” Bai Ling frowned.

“My point is, next time you encounter something similar, you’d better do it this way.”

Bai Ling’s fingers instantly clenched; clammy heat flowed between their fingers as they rubbed intensely. “Why won’t you let me get rid of him? Without that tyrant, the road ahead will be much easier to walk.”

“How so?”

“…I’ve calculated it repeatedly!” Bai Ling couldn’t say outright that he had regressed.

Yu Chen shook his head, though it was unclear whether he was sighing at the child’s youth or his newborn calf fearlessness.

“Kaide isn’t even the ultimate enemy. The real enemies are the greater nobility and oligarchs entrenched throughout the Empire. Right now, with Kaide there, he can still serve as a shield. If he dies, you will face a mountain of problems; trouble will sprout like bamboo shoots after a rain. The chaotic situation and the predatory politicians will leave you with no time to breathe.”

Bai Ling narrowed his eyes. “Then tell me, what would you do?”

“Wait for the opportune moment, accumulate strength, and let quantitative change trigger a qualitative one.”

Bai Ling translated simply: “Keep escaping and procrastinating? I will absolutely never do that.”

It was only now that he realized his and Yu Chen’s methods had always been at odds.

Yu Chen’s lips, exhaling hot breath, drew close to his neck, sending a shiver across the flexible skin. He sniffed the omega’s nape, like a wild animal confirming a scent and making a final probe before biting down.

Bai Ling felt his throat go up in flames.

With an absolute sense of possession and control, Yu Chen said, “None of these are things you need to worry about day and night. Later, once I have reclaimed political power, I will encourage you to participate in the governance of the country.”

Bai Ling let out a sneer. “What do you take me for? Your subordinate? Your First Lady? Or your incompetent child? I thought I was supposed to be your future battlefield ally!”

“I know what you’re thinking. You want to stabilize the regime first, then let me participate in management. It’s like bringing a steak to the table, cutting it up yourself, and letting me swallow it bite by bite.”

“But I am not really the child you speak of.”

“You know perfectly well that I want to personally go hunting.”

Bai Ling had zero interest in sitting back and enjoying the fruits of another’s labor. His goal and life’s focus lay in participating in the process of saving this slowly rotting nation.

It was as if his second life would lose all meaning if he didn’t do so.

 

Bai Ling’s mind was perfectly clear.

Enjoyment was one thing, but he hadn’t come back to this world just to date a former Emperor and share a few kisses.