The cello's deep, sonorous voice suddenly joined in, blending with the violin's tremolo, elevating the pitch and making the entire golden hall ripple.
Several pairs of men and women spun by, their steps accompanied by the flowing long dresses, leaving behind the fragrance of perfume and the dazed play of light and shadow.
Lin Xian was somewhat surprised.
Zhao Yingjun before...
had never danced, after all.
"A little," Lin Xian replied.
"Dance with me," she said.
"Okay."
Zhao Yingjun tiptoed forward, her left hand resting on Lin Xian's shoulder, then brushed past, spinning halfway.
Lin Xian stepped to the left, extended his left arm to catch Zhao Yingjun's lower back, and took over the lead.
The cello's sound faded.
The violin solo's string melody stirred the heart, and Zhao Yingjun tapped her high heels within the notes, hitting each beat with precision.
