057 The Indispensable Ball

For the first time, she observed Lance so closely and had to admit, despite his penchant for mischief and his unpredictable moods, he truly possessed a handsome face. Gentle eyes with crimson irises, a refined nose, and lips that always curved upward—how could she not find him utterly her type? Bitterly, she bit her handkerchief, lamenting why she had to meet him at this moment. If only they had encountered each other earlier, in a more suitable place, and if his temperament were just a bit better, she would have...

Her thoughts suddenly veered off into strange territory, and she completely forgot she was in the midst of a dance lesson.

There were advances and retreats, positions exchanged; as she gradually became absorbed in the dance, she realized it was almost no different from the waltz she had studied in college—three steps forward, three steps back. Her mind now wandering, her movements were driven entirely by instinct, deducing the next step from her scant memories of dance lessons—throwing her partner outward.

Unfortunately, Lance's next move was naturally to throw his partner outward as well.

As the saying goes, when two warriors meet on a narrow road, the braver wins; when two tigers fight, one must fall. So, when both dancers tried to cast each other out, it all came down to who had greater strength...

With a resounding thud, this brief dance lesson ended gloriously as her insufficient strength, unstable balance, and a slip of her foot sent her head crashing into the wall.

"Seems you have learned after all," Lance stood calmly to the side, maintaining his smile. "You simply learned the wrong direction."

She gritted her teeth, clutching her head and shrinking to the side.

Indeed, she had signed up for waltz classes in college. But as luck would have it, her major was overwhelmingly female, awash in rosy hues. The four scarce male students in the waltz class became coveted prizes, first come first served. Having no interest in rare creatures, she flashed a mischievous smile and paired up with a cute girl from her class, using her own sturdy arms to support the space for her partner's spinning.

Watching the cute girl twirl beside her while she herself mostly just moved an arm, leisure and entertainment went hand in hand, and she was thoroughly satisfied with her decision to volunteer as the male partner.

But in life, debts must eventually be repaid. Even if she spent all four years of college as a substitute male partner, she could not conceal the bold letters stamped on her ID: Female. In proper occasions, she would still be the one spun outward.

Lance looked at her with satisfaction. "This level will do. Just remember not to throw your partner out."

...

In any case, the welcoming banquet finally began.

The venue was none other than Pang Hou's family guest hall. Originally refined, after the servants' skilled hands decorated it, it became even more splendid and magnificent. Guests gathered slowly, all dressed in the distinctive formal attire of the White Tower Kingdom, tacitly avoiding the plush carpeted path at the center of the hall, for tonight they were not the focus.

She donned a small dress in the style of Kairenia, specially prepared by Liang Yin; the enthusiastic servants dusted her face with a thin layer of powder. Her hand rested on Lance's arm. Her once chic short hair, now grown to shoulder length for lack of time to trim, lent her an added touch of softness.

Lance, too, changed into formalwear. The elaborate costume suited him perfectly, accentuating his refined demeanor.

From a distance, she and Lance appeared as a pair of lovers showing off their affection in matching outfits at the banquet.

Yet, as one half of this "perfect pair," what she truly wished for right now was to strip off this cumbersome dress and its heeled shoes, run outside for eight hundred meters, and breathe air unencumbered by a corset.

It was well known that Kairenia was a nation of mages—a group who feared everything but trouble. They could spend a lifetime crafting intricate, obscure magical arrays, invent scripts and incantations that ordinary folk could never comprehend, and losing sleep over writing convoluted magical treatises was mere child's play.

In a country composed of such people, how could their official attire be summed up with just "simple and elegant"?

Lace was essential, patterns indispensable, collars and sleeves all had their own significance. Skirts layered outside, whether the gaps between layers were evenly distributed or randomly irregular... The formalwear culture of Kairenia was ancient and inexhaustibly complex, leading to her tiny dress having more than ten accessories.

Ribbons, corsets, petticoats—anything you could imagine, Liang Yin had prepared. Altogether, these items easily weighed over twenty kilograms. Not to mention the heeled shoes; while holding onto Lance's arm she could maintain her balance, but once dancing began she sincerely doubted whether her waist would survive, fearing disaster before the night had even begun.

Pang Hou stepped out from the crowd, warmly introducing the cultural ambassadors from Kairenia—her and Liang Yin.

At the mention of Liang Yin's name, Lance was visibly startled. She suddenly recalled that the metal plate Bradley had given to Huan Luo only listed two names: hers and Liang Yin's, with no mention of gender or other characteristics.

Thankfully, he hadn't. Otherwise, they'd have been exposed. Smiling, she pinched Lance at an angle where no one could see. Lance, quick on the uptake, immediately made amends on the spot: a ninety-degree bow and a gracious self-introduction, explaining sincerely that he was so overwhelmed by the splendor of the banquet hall that he failed to respond properly, asking for their understanding.

Pang Hou was delighted to hear such praise for his banquet, quickly smoothing things over; the guests did not dwell on this minor faux pas. After Pang Hou's words, the incident was simply passed over, and the hall returned to its lively atmosphere, with many coming to greet her and Lance.

Anyone invited by Pang Hou would surely hold considerable status in Kirin Pass Gorge—none could be offended. Besides, this rescue mission had barely begun and already several mistakes had been made, errors that cultural ambassadors ought never to commit. She herself thought that were she Pang Hou, she would have detained and interrogated herself and Lance, obvious impostors as they were.

The situation was grave; no more mishaps could be allowed.

Thus, she and Lance maintained a high level of enthusiasm, greeting and exchanging pleasantries with every guest who approached, missing not a single one. Her smile had become fixed on her face, the constant nodding and curtsying left her somewhat dizzy, but relying on the fierce determination of "if I make another mistake, I'll end it myself," she never faltered, never slipped up.