Chapter Twenty-Four: Under the Moon at the Jade Terrace, the Lotus Blooms with Grace

When she finally stood on the so-called little island, Lingran realized it was actually a grand stage, and the astonishing palaces across the way were merely viewing stands. Lingran couldn’t help but admire the ingenuity of those who had designed this stage and its galleries—such a wonder could only be created by a house as powerful as the Prime Minister’s estate.

The estate’s attendants led them into a festively decorated pavilion, where several maids were already waiting. One of the attendants instructed them, “Ladies, you are to perform tonight. This afternoon, you must rehearse carefully so nothing goes awry this evening. The Prime Minister is not known for his patience!”

Everyone bowed slightly to the two attendants. The maids in the pavilion looked the nine young women up and down, their eyes alight with astonishment. After a moment, one maid said, “We can only serve you a little tea and some light refreshments at noon; otherwise it might become inconvenient for the evening.”

The girls nodded, and a maid left to prepare the tea and pastries.

Lingran dared not wander off, so she called Biqing to join her outside the pavilion to admire the scenery. Suddenly, a sharp scream erupted from inside, followed by Shen Zhu’s angry, weeping curses. The two exchanged a glance and rushed back in.

Inside, Shen Zhu had one foot raised high, sobbing and cursing, while a maid helped her sit down. Another maid, holding a pair of scissors, seemed ready to cut open her embroidered shoe, which was soaked through with some spilled liquid.

From Shen Zhu’s tearful complaints, Lingran gathered that someone—whether by accident or design—had bumped into the maid carrying tea to Shen Zhu. The scalding tea had splashed onto Shen Zhu’s foot. The pavilion had been in chaos, and no one had seen clearly who had caused the mishap.

Shen Zhu, the leading dancer among them, wept bitterly, accusing someone of deliberately trying to usurp her place. Some of the maids, recognizing her importance, hurried out to inform the house steward.

Before long, her shoe was cut open, revealing a foot already red, swollen, and blistered—an appalling sight.

Shen Zhu realized she had lost her chance to lead the dance that night, and her grief was heartrending as she endlessly questioned who could be so malicious.

Xu Shanquan, who had tried to console her, was met with a hostile glare and quickly withdrew, fearing suspicion herself.

Lingran studied everyone’s expressions; beyond surprise or a trace of schadenfreude, she could find no clues. She thought, if someone from among the Prime Minister’s selected girls had done this, it was most likely intentional; if a maid had done it, it was probably an accident. But no one would admit to it, and the proud Shen Zhu could only swallow her misery.

Soon, the Prime Minister’s staff came to carry Shen Zhu away for treatment, and quiet returned to the pavilion.

A man, dressed differently from the other attendants and accompanied by a young page, entered and swept a cold glance around.

Lingran assumed he was there to investigate, but instead he said, “You must be the girls sent by the Western Depot, correct? Tonight’s program is the ‘Dance of the Jade Pool.’ The one just taken away was supposed to be the lead. Aside from her, who else can take her place?”

Li Tangmei certainly could have stepped up, but she shrank back, and Lingran guessed she was afraid of being suspected of foul play.

Unexpectedly, the usually quiet Wu Yunxian pointed at Mo Han and said, “She dances even better than Shen Zhu!”

The steward scrutinized Mo Han, who gracefully bowed in acknowledgment, her composure confirming Wu Yunxian’s claim.

Seeing that Mo Han was even more strikingly beautiful than the previous girl, the steward nodded with satisfaction. “Then change into your dance costume as soon as possible.”

Mo Han bowed again. “Thank you, sir.”

The steward smiled, appearing quite pleased, though he said, “I’m not the steward, you flatter me!” Then his expression turned stern as he swept his gaze over the group. “No more trouble from here on—if anything else happens, your performance will be cancelled.”

After he left, every girl became wary; except for Wu Yunxian, most kept their distance from Mo Han. They eyed each other, ate a small piece of cake at lunch, then practiced their dance again. Indeed, Mo Han’s performance outshone Shen Zhu’s, leaving Xu Shanquan and the others reluctantly impressed.

By evening, after their luggage had been inspected and brought in, numerous attendants from the Prime Minister’s house erected tall black curtains in front of the pavilion, separating it as backstage. Viewed from the six palace halls, one could now see only most of the stage and the towering curtain.

Night seemed to fall more slowly than usual as they waited in anxious anticipation. At last, music and drums were heard from outside as the guests found their seats in rhythm with the music.

All eight of the girls had changed into their costumes and touched up their makeup, sitting prim and proper as they waited.

Outside, one performance followed another: snippets of opera, comic acts, acrobatics, and more. Lingran longed to sneak a look, but reality was harsh; she could only sit with the others, hungry, awaiting their turn.

It felt to Lingran as if she’d been sitting there for a century, her eyelids drooping, until Yuan’er finally pulled her up.

At last, it was their turn to go on stage.

The music outside had changed. Lingran was last in line, standing behind the other seven girls behind the curtain, holding two lotus-leaf fans folded behind her back.

A kaleidoscope of colored lights shone ahead of the curtain, and she wondered how it was done. As she stepped onto the stage in time with the music, appearing as a fairy from the Jade Pool, she saw a world aglow with lanterns—a grand spectacle beyond compare.

Brilliant, multicolored lights shimmered on the stage; countless wind lanterns lay on the ground, their translucent shells painted in every hue.

The six palace halls she had seen during the day now gleamed with bright lights, filled with distinguished guests raising their cups in celebration. The reflections in the water looked like shattered pearls scattered across a pool—surely, even paradise on earth could be no more wondrous.

They stood within a painting, yet it seemed as if they too were gazing at art, unsure who was truly observing whom.

From afar, the faces on stage would have been indistinct, but directly ahead, on the grandest palace, sat a middle-aged man with a pale, beardless face and extraordinary presence—surely the famed Chu Liuxiang. Beside him sat a youth in scarlet, whose beauty Lingran glimpsed in a flash and guessed must be the Prince of Xiang.

Many others sat within the central palace, but Lingran, anxious not to misstep, dared not look further.

The ‘Dance of the Jade Pool’ depicted a scene of celestial maidens offering birthday felicitations to the Queen Mother of the West. Lingran and the other seven girls played the roles of lotus leaves in the pool while Mo Han, dressed in pale pink, extended her flowing sleeves. Suddenly, mist arose from nowhere, much like the stage effects of dry ice in modern times.

One could only imagine the beauty of these maidens dancing amid swirling fairy mist at the heart of the water:

On the heights of Jade Mountain, fairies fly past,
Beneath the moon at the Jade Terrace, lotuses stand in grace.

The scene was surely one of unrivaled beauty.

As the music faded, the girls turned toward the center and knelt gracefully.

The pale-faced, beardless man laughed heartily and exclaimed, “Excellent! Steward Liu has truly chosen a troupe of fairies! That fairy maiden in the center is exquisite—let her be awarded to Yu’er!”