Mi Moyan had not returned all night.
When Baozhu appeared in the practice room, the dancers scattered like birds startled by a bowstring, avoiding her gaze. Only now did Baozhu realize that whenever someone disappeared from the Rainbow Garment Courtyard, everyone tacitly stopped mentioning them, pretending they had never existed. An invisible wound lay here, rotting and bleeding, never healing. Whenever anyone deliberately lifted the gauze covering it, clinging scabs and pus came away with it, making the pain still more unbearable. All they could do was turn a blind eye.
Near noon, Baozhu was summoned to attend at the Auspicious Cloud Hall.
The courtyard's flagstones were soaking wet. More than a dozen servants knelt on the ground, meticulously scrubbing them with boar-bristle brushes, while the raised stage for music and dance had been fitted with a brand-new carpet.
Were they cleaning away the traces Mi Moyan had left? Pendants dangled from his belt, flowers at his hips weighed upon his waist; his cap turned with its golden bells, his snow-white face swung around. Baozhu stared blankly at the stage. The boy's graceful, nimble figure seemed to be spinning there still, the chime of golden bells still echoing in her ears.
Inside the annex, the Coiled Dragon Lamp was filled with burning candles as usual. Li Yu sat on his throne, his eyes vacant with exhaustion after a night of revelry.
The atmosphere at this year's Bliss Banquet had not been particularly good. When his painstakingly rehearsed "Qin King's Battle-Formation Music" and lion dance were performed, the guests wore complicated expressions. Their flattery had been less eager and enthusiastic than usual, and two bastards had even claimed stomach pains and left early.
Only after this year's sacrifice appeared onstage had those remaining gradually relaxed under the effects of Five-Stone Powder