The turning point came not long after Yang Xueyi’s birthday, when Ying Yun told her his partner’s leg had healed and he no longer needed her to practice.
As soon as the real partner returned, this annoying guy ruthlessly kicked Yang Xueyi aside and never treated her kindly again, returning to his old, frosty self.
But even though Ying Yun had practiced ahead of time, it seemed that first love didn’t work out.
After the graduation ball, he never got into a relationship and continued being a cold loner.
Serves him right!
He danced such a sexy tango, but his partner still didn’t fall for him!
Maybe it was because Yang Xueyi’s stare at Ying Yun was too intense at that moment that he seemed to sense something, turned around, and looked at her with a slight frown, as if to say, “Why are you staring at me?”
“I’m just a little nervous,” Yang Xueyi lied smoothly, deciding to get her disclaimer out first.
“Let me say this up front—I’m just responsible for dancing. I can’t guarantee the result, so even if it’s bad, you still have to pay the rest.”
“After all, the last time we danced this was ten years ago, and we don’t have time to practice now. There’s no way it’ll be as good as what you prepared with Lin Zixian.”
“I never danced with her,” Ying Yun interrupted coldly.
“I’m a doctor—I didn’t have time to practice with her. We just agreed on the dance and practiced separately. That’s all.”
He glanced at Yang Xueyi and tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“I don’t expect much from you, so don’t worry—I have no expectations.”
As long as he paid, that was fine!
“Since you and Lin Zixian never practiced together, and you have no chemistry, why didn’t you find someone else to dance with?”
“How would I know if anyone else could dance?”
Ying Yun’s face was cold.
“You ask so many questions—do you not want the money?”
Of course I do!
Yang Xueyi immediately shut her mouth obediently.
Even though she’d already prepared herself mentally to treat this dance with Ying Yun as just a job, when the hall quieted and the familiar tango intro began, and Ying Yun led her—masked—into the center of the hall, the lights dimmed around them, leaving only a spotlight on Yang Xueyi and Ying Yun. She couldn’t help but get nervous.
Even with the mask on, because of Ying Yun, everyone’s eyes in the ballroom were on her—curious, jealous, scrutinizing…
Dance is a language of the body. Silent, but more powerful than words.
Every step, every look, every gesture is full of tension and emotion that can’t be hidden.
This dance’s theme was the push and pull of romance.
The choreography started with mutual wariness and caution, then an irresistible attraction, evenly matched probing, and finally an ambiguous, intimate embrace—elegant and vintage, yet full of the sensual tension of man and woman.
At first, Yang Xueyi was comfortable with the tense, distant steps.
But as the music progressed and the moves became more intimate, she started to feel uneasy.
Ten years ago, she’d been naive, with no clear boundaries about men and women or about Ying Yun.
Now, being so close to him again, Yang Xueyi couldn’t help but feel flustered, her heart pounding.
This was way past her comfort zone.
Yang Xueyi seriously regretted it.
She shouldn’t have agreed to this dance.
Because she disliked Ying Yun, she’d subconsciously twisted the passionate choreography into something even more risqué in her mind, even though she knew it wasn’t appropriate.
Tango is, by nature, a dance of physical tension between men and women—done well, it’s sophisticated and sexy, with dazzling, elegant moves.
But that requires real chemistry and balance between the dancers.
Yet even though neither of them had danced this piece in ten years, Ying Yun was far more composed and steady than Yang Xueyi.
His eyes were calm. Despite the dance’s intensity, he performed with almost no expression, every step precise and smooth.
At this moment, Ying Yun’s hand rested on Yang Xueyi’s back.
It should have been an intimate gesture, but he did it with gentlemanly restraint.
Even those moves that should have brought their faces close together, he kept his distance, changing the whole vibe from hot and spicy to polite and distant.
It was as if Ying Yun was treating Yang Xueyi like a mop—holding her waist, but with a cold, forbidding expression.
The only change in his face was when Yang Xueyi, flustered, missed a step, and he gave a mocking little smirk.
Yang Xueyi could have muddled through the dance, but Ying Yun’s mockery provoked her.
Why did Ying Yun get to be so aloof and in control?
Yang Xueyi hated his look of effortless superiority.
She bit her lip and, on impulse, made a decision—
She stopped worrying about Ying Yun’s frown, wrapped her arm around his neck, pressed her body tightly against him, and let her other hand slowly trail down his chest, all the way down, with a bold, flirtatious touch.
Sure enough, this time it was Ying Yun’s turn to lose the beat. He almost instinctively grabbed Yang Xueyi’s hand as it neared his belt, his face growing even more severe.
Yang Xueyi didn’t avoid his gaze at all, staring straight into his eyes, pulling her hand free from his, her eyes full of challenge.
Ten years ago, when she learned this dance with Ying Yun, the instructor had praised her for her natural emotional expressiveness.
Now, with the mask as her shield, Yang Xueyi didn’t hold back, giving him a wild, seductive look and making every move as bold as possible.
If Ying Yun wouldn’t get close, she would make sure to close the distance—bringing their noses together, close enough to share each other’s breath.
Sure enough, this time, the calm in Ying Yun’s eyes was gone, replaced with a resentful glare, clearly unhappy at being thrown off balance.
But to Yang Xueyi’s surprise, after a moment, Ying Yun adjusted his mood. He still looked annoyed, but his steps regained their composure.
The gentlemanly restraint disappeared, and Ying Yun pulled Yang Xueyi tightly into his arms, refusing to back down.
He took back control.
When it was time to hold her waist, he did so firmly.
When they interlaced fingers, there was no slack.
When their faces came close, there was no space at all—so close that a careless move would have their lips touch.
As the music went on, Yang Xueyi felt Ying Yun’s hand slide down her back, caressing her bare skin with a possessive intensity.
The dance was always about the tug-of-war between man and woman, but now both of them were taking it seriously, neither willing to yield.
Yang Xueyi stopped worrying about anything else, arched her back, pressed her thigh against Ying Yun’s hips, slowly grinding as she spun and turned around him, using his body as a pivot.
Her high heels fluttered on the stage like butterflies.
The anger in Ying Yun’s beautiful eyes was burning with competitiveness.
He grabbed Yang Xueyi’s raised thigh, his hand sliding down along her curves…
It was like neither of them would give an inch, both going all out, perfectly recreating the dance—
One dance, turning into a fierce contest of wills.
It wasn’t until the applause erupted around them that Yang Xueyi snapped out of it, realizing the dance was over.
She was drenched in sweat, and Ying Yun was no better.
Sweat beaded under his slightly open collar, dripping down onto Yang Xueyi’s chest and tracing her curves, mixing with her own sweat as if they’d finally reunited after a long separation.
Amid the applause, Yang Xueyi’s heart thundered in her chest.
Thank goodness for the mask—she’d really let herself go too much in that dance!
All this for just twenty thousand?
Enough is enough!
She was way too earnest for a hired hand!
Gone was the earlier bravado with Ying Yun.
Yang Xueyi turned her head to avoid his gaze, but her heart was still pounding.
Fortunately, Ying Yun quickly regained his cold composure.
Almost at the same time, he straightened up, putting distance between them as if to avoid her.
At that moment, all Yang Xueyi wanted to do was run.
Luckily, the focus of the ball was on Ying Yun.
Yang Xueyi slipped away when no one was looking, returned backstage, changed back into her business suit, and redid her usual makeup.
When she reappeared at the venue, there was no trace that she’d just danced so intensely.
As soon as Yang Xueyi returned, Qiao Qianqian spotted her.
“Xiao Xue! Where did you go? I couldn’t find you anywhere!”
Yang Xueyi lowered her gaze, feeling guilty.
“I was just seeing off a client I was translating for.”
Qiao Qianqian looked regretful.
“You really missed a show! Ying Yun just finished the opening dance with his partner, Lin Zixian. It was so hot and exciting! I was thinking, can I really watch this for free? Hahaha!”
“Oh, really.”
Yang Xueyi forced a laugh, not wanting to continue the topic.
But Qiao Qianqian was very interested.
“Lin Zixian never looked like much before, but in a dance dress, her figure is amazing—curvy in all the right places!”
Qiao Qianqian, being flat-chested herself, gestured enviously at her chest.
“Her chest is huge!”
Maybe Yang Xueyi’s look made Qiao Qianqian misunderstand, because she winked at her.
“Still, she’s not as big as you. In my heart, you have the best figure. No one else compares.”
“…Do you hear yourself?”
Qiao Qianqian didn’t think much of it and continued, “Last year at an event, I got a side photo of Lin Zixian. I don’t remember her face, but I clearly remember her figure wasn’t this good. How could she have developed a second time?”
Qiao Qianqian was sorting photos, standing by a screen in the corner of the hall.
With no one else around, she spoke freely.
“Anyway, Lin Zixian’s legs are really long and white, and her shape is great. Ying Yun must have enjoyed touching her.”
Yang Xueyi, still thirsty from the dance, was sipping juice when she heard this and immediately started coughing.
Qiao Qianqian grinned.
“In my experience, those two aren’t innocent—hugging, touching, the way they looked at each other… I feel like they’re about to get it on. That kind of tension only exists between people who’ve slept together. I bet they totally have.”
Yang Xueyi coughed so hard her face turned red. Instinctively, she defended herself, “That’s not necessarily true. They just danced a good tango, so it looked intense. Doesn’t mean there’s anything between them.”
Ying Yun’s reputation was none of Yang Xueyi’s business, but even with her secret identity, she couldn’t stand being associated with that annoying guy.
Even if every other man on earth died, Yang Xueyi would never go for Ying Yun!
Qiao Qianqian thought for a moment, then nodded fairly.
“You’re right. I’m not hiding under Ying Yun’s bed, so I shouldn’t spread rumors. Maybe they haven’t slept together. I’m just talking nonsense with you in private.”
Yang Xueyi was just about to breathe a sigh of relief at Qiao Qianqian’s sense of discretion when Qiao Qianqian added shamelessly, “But my sixth sense tells me—even if they haven’t yet, those two are bound to sleep together sooner or later, and definitely more than once.”
Qiao Qianqian finished sorting her photos, picked up her camera, and looked around the hall.
“Hey, where’s Ying Yun? And Lin Zixian? Did they go off to…?”
Before she could finish, Ying Yun walked out from behind the screen.
The man in question had a cold face, already changed out of his tango outfit and back into a sharp black suit, exuding an air of authority.
He looked down at Yang Xueyi and Qiao Qianqian, adjusted his collar, and strode past the screen with an expressionless, aloof manner.
Once he was gone, Qiao Qianqian finally relaxed.
“He scared me to death!”
“Why was Ying Yun behind the screen? He didn’t make a sound! But judging from his face, he probably didn’t hear us, right? He won’t hold a grudge against me, will he?”
Yang Xueyi’s face was burning, feeling so awkward she wanted to dig a hole and hide, but she still comforted Qiao Qianqian.
“It’s fine, he won’t hold a grudge against you.”
That was the truth, because if Ying Yun held grudges, he’d hold them against Yang Xueyi…
Just then, Yang Xueyi’s phone buzzed with a message.
It was a message from a black avatar.
Yang Xueyi braced herself and opened it, only to see a transfer of ten thousand.
Ying Yun had paid the rest.
Yang Xueyi sighed in relief.
With that attitude, he probably hadn’t heard anything.
But just as she clicked to accept the money, Ying Yun sent another transfer—this time, five thousand.
Yang Xueyi was puzzled, but then she understood.
She smiled as she typed: [Is this a bonus for my exceptional dancing?]
The black avatar quickly replied—
[No.]
[It’s hush money.]
Hush money?
He wanted Yang Xueyi to keep today’s dance a secret? No problem!
Yang Xueyi happily accepted the money and cheerfully encouraged Ying Yun—
[Why don’t you go dance with some other girls? There are plenty waiting for you!]
But a moment later, she received Ying Yun’s sarcastic reply—
[How would I dare dance with anyone else.]
[I’d probably get accused by your friend of sleeping with all of them.]
So this hush money was…
Ying Yun’s next message shattered Yang Xueyi’s last bit of hope—
[Five thousand, so your friend will keep her mouth shut.]
[And maybe fix her eyesight.]