What was even more terrifying was the graceful figure that appeared silently beside Tong Han, lifting her swan-like neck to also spin elegantly.
This was a strange woman dressed in a purple dance costu, as proud as a swan, and because she kept her head high at all tis, Tong Han couldn’t see her face.
She hadn’t even noticed how the woman appeared; there was clearly no place in the small room where soone could hide.
Suddenly, Tong Han’s wrist felt a sharp pain, which she endured without making a sound, and Mr. Hou, who had been spinning rapidly, finally ca to a stop.
Mr. Hou bent his knees slightly and paid Tong Han a genteel courtesy, "Miss Tong, you are indeed very talented, more so than any of the female dancers I have ever seen. I always believed that a man could also be a female dance partner and even be the best one. To differentiate beauty by gender is a profanation of the art."
After he finished speaking, Mr. Hou took Tong Han’s arm and with a slight exertion of force, popped her dislocated wrist back into place. At this mont, the overhead lighting ca on, the glittering bulbs went out, and the music player stopped, and the spacious room was empty; the purple-clad dancer had vanished as if everything before had been an illusion.
Tong Han moved her sore wrist carefully and asked cautiously, "Mr. Hou, considering your achievents in the dance field, I suspect you are not rely an enthusiast, but rather, you must have undergone systematic training in a professional dance company and even have experience performing on the stage of a grand theatre."
Moved by the completion of the dance, Mr. Hou looked at Tong Han with admiration, "Miss Tong, you flatter . I am just an unwanted castaway, not worth ntioning. But if you, Miss Tong, can continue on this path, your potential is boundless. You are a woman, your innate conditions are much better than mine... far superior to mine."
The regret in Mr. Hou’s tone was audible to anyone, and being sensitive, Tong Han keenly picked up on the enviousness that lay beneath his regretful exterior.
Without understanding the reason for Mr. Hou’s transformation, she couldn’t find a way to break the pattern. Just this first dance had already resulted in a dislocated wrist, and what was yet to co could be even more horrifying.
Under Tong Han’s skillful conversation, Mr. Hou gradually revealed his sad past. He was originally an orphan, living in a welfare institution, and later, due to a good physique, he was fortunate to be picked by the dance company director to join the company, where he stayed and lived.
As a trainee partner focused on developnt, he perford better than the ordinary female partners during his childhood and adolescence, as his body had not yet fully matured. He got the chance to perform on stage and received applause from the audience, which he greatly enjoyed.
But as he grew older and his fra enlarged, his physique beca a shackle that limited him. When the old is replaced by the new, that was the mont when he was cruelly discarded by the company, and no matter how hard he tried, it was useless, and he lost his most precious opportunity to perform on stage.
"I did better than those female dancers, worked harder than them, bore hardship better than them. On the stage, as long as it was about dance, no matter the injury or accident, I would never cry out in agony. The stage was my everything, and dance was my life!"
Mr. Hou beca more and more emotional as he spoke, and the makeup on his face looked increasingly ghastly and terrifying, "Later, I brought those female dancers to my apartnt, demanded a fair contest with them, to let them feel my pain. The result... I won, with no suspense. They couldn’t bear the extre pain. I was more focused than every single one of them!"
Tong Han suddenly thought of the purple-clad dancer who had appeared not long ago, and the situation was now clear; all those dancers who had lost the contest had been killed by the man in front of her.
This man is a madman!
Suddenly, Mr. Hou laughed, a chilling smile, "Miss Tong, don’t you want to know what beca of those female dancers?"
"I just want to dance, Mr. Hou," said Tong Han with a smile as well, extending her hand with the palm facing upward, gesturing a gentlemanly invitation.
Mr. Hou’s eyes brightened instantly, and he reached out to place his hand in Tong Han’s palm. The overhead lights went out, and the bulbs overhead burst into a dazzling array of colors, as the record player played a new tune.
This ti, more girls’ figures appeared in the room, four of them, dressed in purple, white, pink, and green dance costus. The four girls danced gracefully around them, their movents elegant and beautiful. In Tong Han’s eyes, these four were not inferior to Mr. Hou.
Yet, strangely, all four held their heads high, doing so with every movent, preventing Tong Han from seeing any of their faces.
But as the four girls began to spin, fresh blood trickled from their snow-white necks, and Tong Han realized that the girls had injuries on their faces, and the blood was flowing from there.
There would be no baseless, strange actions in the task, so she surmised that the girls were continually holding their heads high to conceal the wounds on their faces.
Having figured this out, Tong Han seized the opportunity. As the purple-clad girl ca close, she tiptoed and leaped into the air; in mid-air, she finally saw the face of the purple-clad girl.
The girl’s originally beautiful face was now twisted and terrifying, as if she had seen sothing extrely horrifying before death, her mouth agape, her tongue severed, with blood constantly spilling from the corners of her mouth.
But before her feet could touch the ground, Tong Han was struck with a trendous force in the abdon, sending her flying like a cannonball and slamming hard against the wall.
Such a collision should have been enough to take half of Tong Han’s life, but she struggled to rise from the ground, looking towards the wall obscured by the dark red curtain.
In the previous collision, an odd softness had cushioned much of the force, sparing her from serious injury. Now, taking a deep breath, she saw under the slightly deford curtain a pair of purple dance shoes, the tips peeking out, tightly wrapped in wide clear tape, facing her.
The right foot of the purple dance shoes was covered in blood and unnaturally crushed, as though it had been brutally run over by sothing heavy.
Tong Han dared not move, realizing now that the bodies of the four female dancers were in this room, carefully wrapped in clear tape to conceal the stench of decay, hidden behind the curtains adorning these walls.
"Bastard!" Mr. Hou couldn’t contain his rage, "What are you doing, you’re disrupting the rhythm of the dance, do you know that?"
"An exquisite performance, all ruined because of your single mistake! You and those four, who can only scream and make sloppy moves, you all utterly lack respect for the stage!"
"With such good physical conditions yet not treasuring them, wasting heaven’s gifts, you deserve to die! Soone like you should die!"
Mr. Hou vented his dissatisfaction furiously, and in his anger, he actually pulled out a pair of large scissors from behind his back, its blades still carrying scraps of flesh. "Miss Tong, I respect you as a guest, so I’ll let it go this ti, but if there’s a next ti, don’t bla for not showing rcy!"
Tong Han wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth and, staggering to her feet, bowed deeply to Mr. Hou, earnestly apologizing, "I’m sorry, Mr. Hou, for interrupting your dance experience. It won’t happen again."
The first ti she was distracted and broke her wrist. If it weren’t for the cushioning of the bodies this ti, she feared she would have lost half her life. For the third ti, Tong Han had no doubt she would lose her life, die beneath that large pair of scissors, and then be kept here forever as one of Mr. Hou’s collectibles, standing night after night behind the curtain with the other four female dancers, quietly admiring his dance moves.
After less than a minute’s rest, the third dance began. Tong Han and Mr. Hou danced together in tacit agreent, but now the smile had vanished from Mr. Hou’s face, replaced by pure resentnt. He resented Tong Han for not striving despite her superior condition; he resented himself for not being born a daughter.
Under the shattered colored lights, the other four female dance partners appeared one after another, but now that their true faces had been seen, they no longer disguised themselves. The four corpses with varied death poses unnervingly danced around Tong Han. One had her tongue cut off, another had her chest pierced by a sharp weapon, and the dancer in the green costu had her leg broken, dragging the severed limb in a frenzied dance, contorting her body.
A dance of demons, that was Tong Han’s imdiate sensation.
But Tong Han’s heart began to calm down progressively. She noticed one thing the four corpses had in common: the front of their right footpads had all been brutally crushed by sothing heavy, rendering the dance shoes a bloody, fleshly ss.
Recalling what Mr. Hou had said earlier, that no matter what kind of injuries and accidents he might suffer, he would never complain or scream, demanding a fair competition against them, to share in his pain, Tong Han guessed that there might be more to the dance troupe’s expulsion of Mr. Hou than simply age or gender.
It wasn’t because of gender or age issues, but rather, it was him, his own body that had a problem, his foot!
Her thoughts drifting back, Tong Han instantly rembered how Mr. Hou had enviously stared at her feet upon their first eting, praising that her feet were born for dancing.
With a general direction in mind, Tong Han began to pay attention to Mr. Hou’s dance moves and quickly realized he was primarily putting his weight on his left foot while his right foot only served to complent.
After several verifications, Tong Han concluded that Mr. Hou’s right foot was injured, and the injury was severe, almost ending his dancing career, most likely the damage was in the forefront of the foot or toes.
And now, this third tune was also reaching its climax. The background music conveyed several won’s heartrending screams, interspersed with the sounds of sharp blades piercing flesh, as if the past atrocities were replaying right in front of her, and Mr. Hou was no longer pretending, slowly pulling out that large pair of scissors from behind.
Tong Han had little ti. She made a split-second decision, lifting her foot and stomping hard on Mr. Hou’s right foot. The next second, accompanied by a blood-curdling scream, Mr. Hou collapsed.
As expected, that was the ghost’s weakness. Tong Han turned and ran toward the door. The other four female dancers followed suit with their eerie steps. As soon as the door was opened, the four dancers rushed out first, their figures disappearing in an instant.
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