The sound of rapid drumbeats grew louder, paired with an extremely immersive audio effect, instantly gripping the heart of every person in the audience.

Yu Sen, with a serious expression, straightened his back slightly, only to suddenly feel the intense soreness in his waist and abdomen from maintaining the same posture for so long. Adding to that, considering the normal time, it was already close to eight o’clock. His stomach was empty, and the long-ignored pain quietly began to creep up again.

It was truly unbearable.

He bit down hard on his lower lip, his eyes wide as he stared at the stage.

As this “The Red Dance Shoes: A Love of Mourning.” began, the stage lights were somewhat dim, seemingly symbolizing the night. Yu Sen’s eyes, having been used for a while, grew tired and sore. Coupled with his night blindness, he had to focus all his energy just to see the entire stage clearly.

But the exertion only made his stomach ache even more, growling uncontrollably. A metallic taste seeped into his mouth, and Yu Sen realized he had bitten his lip until it bled.

But he couldn’t care less at the moment because the Red Shoes Lady was already standing at the center of the stage.

A cold, white spotlight shone down from above, forming a bright circle in the center. The performance seemed to start as a solo dance. The dancer leaped gracefully into the light, her swan-like neck weakly supporting her high head, the red dress like fire, and where the red shoes traced, every step left a blood-red mark.

After watching for a while, the audience gradually realized that the bloodstains left by the red shoes seemed to be part of the choreography. In the dancer’s graceful twirls, the red shoes slowly drew the shape of a rose on the ground.

Bright and bloody, sinister and eerie.

Yu Sen frowned slightly, touching the red rose inside his jacket pocket that never loses its petals, unsure of the connection between the two.

And because the light was so dazzling, he still couldn’t clearly see what the Red Shoes Lady looked like.

The anxiety in his heart seemed to affect his sensitive insides; his stomach churned painfully, making his head feel cold and his limbs start to shiver.

His neck ached, so he slid down a bit, resting his head on Si Xuanyang’s shoulder, letting out a soft sigh.

“What’s wrong? Can you still hold on?” Si Xuanyang nervously tightened his grip on Yu Sen’s hand.

“It’s nothing, just a stiff neck. Just let me lean on you.” Yu Sen replied.

Si Xuanyang didn’t say anything further. He just reached out his hand and gently massaged Yu Sen’s stomach over his clothes.

The fabric of the T-shirt was thin, and in the dim setting, Si Xuanyang’s palm gently kneaded and caressed, his movements careful, as if afraid Yu Sen couldn’t take it, the pressure was light, like scratching a cat.

After the initial intense pain, Yu Sen gradually came back to his senses, but he started to feel uncomfortable, the ticklish sensation made him shrink away slightly. He subtly shifted to the side and suddenly froze.

—From this angle, he seemed to be able to see the appearance of the woman in red dancing shoes on the stage more clearly.

But as he focused, he quickly frowned.

—The white/powder on her face was way too thick!

Do they not charge for makeup here!? It’s like they painted her face with the white paint used in oil paintings.

He guessed that to become a dancer here, you wouldn’t need to be a stunning beauty, but you’d at least be considered pretty. Moreover, this isn’t an exaggerated performance, so why make it so theatrical?

Despite his complaints, he still carefully observed her.

This lead dancer looked young, probably not even thirty when she died, and her features were delicate. If she wiped off that scary white powder, she’d likely be quite a beauty.

Moreover, the most captivating things about a dancer are their aura and physique, and she excelled in these aspects, far surpassing those before her. It was easy to see why she became the lead of the dance troupe.

The music suddenly changed, becoming sharp, stimulating the eardrums.

Several other dancers dressed in black formed a line, quickly cutting in from the backstage like a steel blade, transforming the solo into a group dance.

It seemed that the leader of the dancers in black, as part of the dance’s choreography, shared a heartbreaking love story with the woman in red dancing shoes, one that hurt more than Yu Sen’s stomachache. The two of them danced intertwined, clinging to each other, so intensely that it almost pulled Yu Sen into that sorrowful emotion.

Fortunately, his insatiable stomach had no understanding of such romantic feelings; it would ache regardless of the situation.

His stomach pain kept him from fully immersing in the dance, but when he came back to his senses, he was suddenly alert—Si Xuanyang’s hand on his stomach had stopped moving.

This isn’t right!

Could it really be that captivating? The alertness in his mind made him feel something was off. He suddenly slapped the back of Si Xuanyang’s hand.

“Slap!”

The sound was drowned out by the music, but Si Xuanyang trembled as if waking up from a trance, turning his head abruptly to look at him: “I think I just…”

“You were too absorbed.” Yu Sen frowned and replied. He glanced at Si Nan on his right side, too lazy to call out to him, and instead elbowed him hard in the chest.

After a muffled thud, Si Nan also jolted back as if waking from a daze. Yu Sen didn’t bother to explain much and told him to wake up Luo Yu as well.

One by one, the audience snapped out of it, but Yu Sen’s expression grew heavier. If one or two people had been entranced, it might have been possible, but with so many people, all tense and focused on the dance, being seduced by the dance couldn’t be explained by normal reasons.

At this moment, the dance on stage suddenly became more grandiose and dramatic. After several clashes, the woman in red ballet shoes fell in the center of the stage, while the dancers in black retreated.

The music became mournful.

Yu Sen’s eyes froze—there, in the woman’s chest, was a withered rose.

The leaves and petals were yellowed, resembling a preserved rose.

He clenched the fresh rose in his pocket.

Killed by her lover with a withered rose? The dance choreography was truly absurd. Yu Sen pursed his lips, watching the lights on stage gradually dim, turn black, and the curtain call music played as the theater lights brightened.

All performances for the day had ended, and the dancers of the troupe came out one by one from the backstage, gathering around the woman in red dancing shoes who had stood back up, and together they bowed to the audience.

The audience was dead silent, everyone stared at the stage, not daring to move, the scene turned eerie for a moment.

Fortunately, they didn’t linger long; as soon as the curtain call was over, the curtain fell to cover the stage.

Before anyone could even take a breath, a piercing scream suddenly came from not far behind Yu Sen and his group.

“Ahhhh—!!! Someone’s been killed!”

They turned their heads, following the direction the screaming girl was pointing, and saw a man who had been sitting alone earlier now lying on the ground, lifeless, with a bright red rose stuck in his chest, and dark red blood slowly oozing out.

The smell of blood gradually became clear with the visual impact, the stench of it filled Yu Sen’s nose, his stomach suddenly tightened, followed by intense stabbing pain, and a metallic taste spread in his throat as he covered his mouth and coughed up blood.

^[1]Author’s note:

Yu Ge: Stomach pain keeps me awake, keeps me alive. I love stomach pain! Long live stomach pain!