Zhou Yaoxuan

In the hall, soft lights illuminated the entire area. A young man sat resting on a wooden chair, his beautifully embroidered ancient costume fluttering in the breeze. His calm, serene gaze fixed on the group of dancers moving to the rhythm of the music. Their graceful movements swayed to the melody of the zither, the vibrancy of their dance contrasting with his still, dignified demeanor, creating a lifelike painting. The soft lights filled the hall, the music was melodious, and the dance movements were as fluid as birds in flight. The young man sat on the wooden chair, his elegantly embroidered attire looking magnificent, calmly observing the performance before his gaze met that of a young woman sitting beside him. Her eyes were composed and authoritative; that woman was "you. "

After a moment, he commanded in a calm but firm voice, "Enough." The music gradually faded, the dance came to a sudden halt, and he called out to the young woman in a voice that retained its elegance, "You will perform in her place."