Hard to Escape

Chapter 40

Yin Xuan started exercising and dancing ballet again. I, too, started diligently practicing. Other than the usual repertoire pieces, I also started choreographing.

Dance first started as an instinctive movement of the body. It awoke a form of art within the limbs. So why not have ballet return to its origins? Why not unshackle the restrictions classical ballet imposes upon technique? Why not break free and chase footwork that will make ballet truly a performance for the stage?

I continuously tried new moves and was engrossed in my world. Yin Li never bothered me. He was like a loyal knight, protecting me the whole way through. Finally, the day came.

I stood on the stage—the stage that Yin Li built for me. I could feel the blood within my feet that yearned to move. I didn't know how many would come to this exhibition, and I didn't want to know. I only knew that Madame Taylor promised to come, but I didn't know how she would receive it. I was a little scared. Even when I was at my peak, I never stood on such a large stage. The lights made me nervous.

So, I decided to dance blindfolded. I would not care about how large my audience was. I would not care for their expressions. I would only focus on expressing myself and being loyal to myself.

"The truer the feelings are, the more touching the dance is." Wu Ke told this to me before the curtains rose.

I nodded. The orchestra Yin Li invited started tuning their instruments. Yin Li stood by my side watching me, and he kissed my forehead to comfort me.

"You are a wonder. This moment is yours." Then he released my hand. "Go."

I took off the jacket he hung on my shoulders and revealed my dress. I walked alone through the dark corridor onto the large, empty stage with the curtains still drawn tight. The brass instruments sounded and a cold breeze blew by. I stood alone on the stage. It was the start of a dream. I blindfolded myself and embraced the darkness.

I heard the curtain rise. I relinquished my sight and instead felt my surroundings with my limbs. In the darkness, I conjured an enemy that had accompanied me through my solitude.

From a young age, I danced alone. My reflection in the mirror and my shadow on the floor were my playmates. I danced, facing them. It was impossible to hide my mistakes that way. I corrected myself based on what I saw in the mirror. That was my childhood.

In the darkness on stage, I reenacted the past. I let the atmosphere, music, colors, and feelings flow through myself to the extremities of my body. I then let those burst out through my feet and arms, setting them free on stage.

I danced my arrogance, my misfortune, and my melancholy. On stage, I was true to myself. I ripped open my wounds and revealed my hatred I felt towards ballet all those years.

The drums rolled. I spun like a confined beast, combining both ballet footwork and the vigor of modern ballet. I danced in the darkness. I pushed myself to my limits. I fixed myself in the air as if hovering for a split-second, hesitating to land. Then there was a struggle. It was as if there were millions of souls within me that all wanted to escape and break out of the shackles of ballet. I switched seamlessly from classical ballet to modern ballet, and I threw in some tango and Latin dance. However, there still was a force within me that bound the fragments of my soul that were trying to break free. They were bounded within my body that once loathed ballet, and that force tried to drag all those fragments towards extinction. I focused all my emotions on the tip of my foot.

I danced uninhibited to the music. The footwork and the memories not only made me dance more fiercely, but it also affected my emotional state. I felt tears flowing out from beneath the blindfold. The past repression and grievance had all been vented out in the unrestrained performance.