A year ago at the dance academy, Mei Yanran and her best friend had teamed up to choreograph a two-person dance for one of their class assignments. Their inspiration came after Mei Yanran watched a bunch of MeTube videos and came upon kids doing a "Snow Day Dance." Apparently, some schools would cancel classes if it snowed enough, so this was a dance that magically summoned snowstorms. (Disclaimer: Success rates lower than advertised.)
Calling it a dance was a bit of a stretch, since all the kids did was mime snow falling down, making snowmen, and throwing snowballs to induce a storm. But the idea was good for inspiration, so Mei Yanran and her bestie had created a classical Chinese dance version for their personal project. Mei Yanran had taken on the role of a little girl, while her friend danced was the snowflake she charmed to call down the rest of its brethren.
Because "Snowflake Dance" was already taken as a title by one of the other groups, Mei Yanran and her friend had called their work the "Flurry Dance" instead. Thankfully, they were graded on the creativity of their choreography, not their naming sense. (Spoiler: They also got an A.)
Present day Mei Yanran was currently standing in the middle of the clearing, exhaling soft puffs of air. She gestured at Ling Fengxiao to back up a little further ("For the best view, stay at least 10 feet back!") and glanced up at the clouds, where more errant snowflakes were drifting lazily down.
"Do you know if it'll snow for good later?" she asked haphazardly.
Ling Fengxiao kept his eyes on her before shaking his head. "It's supposed to stop before nightfall."
"Heh." Mei Yanran lowered her gaze to look at him squarely. "What if I ask the snowflakes to indulge us instead?"
"Has Miss Mei found a way to command the winds and clouds?" Ling Fengxiao asked, folding his arms with a quirked brow.
"You don't order favors, you ask for them!" Mei Yanran grinned and got into position.
One foot behind the other, eyes gazing past the left arm.
Shoulders down, tummy in, take a breath and sigh.
This is the story of a little girl who danced for her guest, wishing with all her might for a snowy night.
Unlike her grand performance in the imperial palace, this dance was more muted; less extravagant. Only the soft crunch of snow beneath Mei Yanran's boots accompanied her performance. Ling Fengxiao expected her fur-lined cloak to get in the way, but it was especially well-behaved. Or rather, Mei Yanran was skilled enough to let the cloak accompany her dance, its rippling folds making beautiful afterimages in the wake of her movements.
She stepped softly and she spun; she looked to the skies often, expectant in entreaty, waiting for a sign. The very snowflakes seem to drift in echoing rhythms of her lingering arms; her joyful twirls. This moment she was simply a girl in respectful reverence, praying for a frozen miracle.
Ling Fengxiao had watched quietly at first, then with closer attention. It was true that Mei Yanran was far more skilled than any dancer he'd seen, imbibing grace into the simplest of moves. The way she moved was refreshing, a soothing salve for tired minds. His eyes glimmered with curiosity as he thought back to their interactions.
Having pegged her as a spy, he wasn't surprised when she accepted his offer to come to the estate. But what kind of agent wasted time asking him about trivial details from his past and debating over dance of all things? She hid things from him, yes—her answers about her own childhood and teachers were vague and she seemed hesitant to say more—but at the same time, she had no qualms about potentially offending him by insisting on her views. Spies were trained to make good impressions or none at all, the better to do their work covertly; Mei Yanran was like the blazing sun tearing through morning mists, too bright to resist or ignore.
And she said she likes the views here...!
Not "view," but views!
The girl had been quite vocal of her love for plum blossoms at the Snow Festival banquet. Suppose she had already taken a fancy to his estate as well? Would her next wish be asking for a piece of her own property next door? Renting out his manor for winter visits? While the idea sounded incredible, it wasn't impossible. While the best views were near the top of the mountain, one could get a pleasant vista of the capital city from the second floor of his residence.
He had no ancestral claim to this land, having bought it after taking over the House of Ling, which meant the empress dowager was perfectly capable of wresting it from his hands if Mei Yanran so desired. That old woman had an unpredictable temper. He couldn't guarantee that Mei Yanran wouldn't aim for his house next! The only reason it wasn't in the royal family's hands now was because the Winterflower Woods were situated too far away from the capital to be strategic or relevant to their interests.
A flash of light shone past his eyes, and Ling Fengxiao rose from his thoughts to see Mei Yanran's skirts spinning before him again. The jade pendant on her dress had reflected the weak sunlight behind the clouds into his irises. He blinked, then caught his breath at the sight.
Property thief, spy, or merely an eccentric, this girl had no flaws when it came to her art.
Mei Yanran finished with a pose and a flourish before straightening to catch her breath. "How was that? Did you like it?"
"I..." Ling Fengxiao trailed off. I blanked out for the second half.
Mei Yanran looked at him, eyes sparkling.
The same preservation instincts that would save Ling Fengxiao in multiple court sessions in the future decided to come into play at this instant. He straightened up, cleared his throat, and nodded in approval. "Your performance was adequate."
Wait, that's the same praise I use for my guards...
For the first time in his life, Ling Fengxiao had a minor case of panic over a social faux paus. Thankfully, it didn't get any worse than that because Mei Yanran was all smiles as she ran over to him.
"I'm glad! I almost forgot some of the moves midway because it's been so long, but I managed to cover them! Did you notice?" Blabbing happily, Mei Yanran successfully missed Ling Fengxiao's brief flicker of utter bewilderment before the man masterfully schooled his expression into a neutral face.
"I am sure it was a flawless job," he went on doggedly. "Miss Mei, perhaps we—watch out!"
When Mei Yanran had almost reached him, she slipped on a patch of snow and fell forwards. Ling Fengxiao extended his hands to catch her, only to miss when the agile girl grabbed the trunk of a young plum blossom tree and gracefully glided to a stop on the sidelines. Instead, her movements disturbed all the snow on the branches above, which fell as a clump...
...on top of Ling Fengxiao's head.
Mei Yanran turned around just in time to see her crush's alter ego snowman version standing stiffly in the snow, arms extended to clutch at thin air.
"Lord Ling!" Aghast, she rushed over to help, but found that she was too short to reach his head. She brushed off as much snow from his shoulders as she could, then grabbed his hands, rubbing them between her palms as she blew puffs of hot air at his fingers. "Don't just stand there, you'll catch cold!"
Admittedly, the sudden snow shower had stunned Ling Fengxiao temporarily, but he'd hardly had time to react when Mei Yanran had attacked him out of the blue.
There she goes touching me again!
Between her worried rambling and busy ministrations, he was having a difficult time straightening his thoughts. "Miss Mei—"
"I'm sorry, it was an accident!" she was apologizing as she continued to warm him up.
"I know, Miss Mei," Ling Fengxiao went on in an exasperated air. Then his heart gave a jolt when she simply took his palms and pressed them against her cheeks.
"Is it warmer now?" she asked hopefully.
Ling Fengxiao's lips thinned into a line before he finally gained control of his fingers to give her a mighty pinch. "Mei Yanran!"
"Ow! That hurts!" But Mei Yanran stopped talking to look at him with teary eyes.
Seeing this, Ling Fengxiao's temper faded away as wry amusement took its place. "If you want to help, then get the snow off my hair."
"I'm not tall enough to reach that high..." Mei Yanran looked at him with an aggrieved air.
"Then let go of my hands and I'll do it myself."
"Ah!" The slim fingers cupping his wrists abruptly fell away before the girl herself backed up a good few feet. "Sorry, sorry!"
The awkward silence between them was only broken by the equally awkward motions of Ling Fengxiao brushing snow off himself. He frowned at the sensation of icy wetness between his neck and collar and decided that this walk had lasted long enough.
"Let's return to the manor," he said when he was done. "I'll have the servants prepare hot tea."
"That does sound nice," Mei Yanran replied meekly.
"Mm," With a nod, Ling Fengxiao turned towards home—only to get splashed with a face full of snow as some violent force crash-landed on the ground. He vaguely heard Mei Yanran saying something behind him, but that was soon drowned under a mad cackling that filled the clearing.
"Hahahahaha! Hear this, Little Ling! I've finally found myself a worthy disciple!"
Gorge Fiend had returned.
