There was once a girl living in ancient China.  Her name was Yu, which meant ‘jade’ in Chinese, for she was as precious as jade to her rich parents.  When she was still a baby, her biological mother had died, leaving Yu in the care of the Second, Third and Fourth wives.

Yu had not only inherited her mothers beautiful, delicate features and lithe body, but also her mother’s great love for dancing.  She could spend the whole day dancing and never tire of it.

During that era, it was tradition for the rich girls to bind their feet so that they would have pretty, dainty feet.  Every girl had to endure the torture or face the discrimination of society.

Although Yu was already past the age of 6, her feet had not been bound, because her father Lord Song tried to put it off for as long as possible, knowing the implications it would bring to his dearest daughter. 

Finally, Old Madam Song stepped in. 

She gathered the three wives and told them, “Regardless of my son’s protests, we will bind Yu’s feet on her seventh birthday.  If any of you dare to not help, I will throw you out of the Song household!”

At Old Madam’s threat, the three wives complied immediately; they would rather risk Lord Park’s anger than be out of their mother-in-law’s favour.

On the morning of her birthday, Fourth Wife was sent instead of the usual Amah to wake up the now seven years old girl. “Xiao Yu, wake up now, today is your birthday.”

Fourth Wife showed the still-sleepy girl the new garments made of the best quality silk that she would wear today, all the time chattering non-stop as was her habit when she was nervous.

“Fourth Mother, are you okay?” the intuitive young girl inquired.

Fourth Wife faked a laugh. “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?  Don’t be too curious now: small children should not ask too many questions.  Quickly change into this.”

Yu did so obediently.  Third Wife came and styled her hair as well as dabbled some make-up on her face.  To complete her birthday outfit, ornaments were added.  By the time they were done, Yu looked even more goddess-like than usual.

Yu could sense that something felt strange today, but there was such a flurry of rituals to be performed on this special day that she had no time to think about it.

As the skies became painted blood red with streaks of orange and pink, the whole extended Song family gathered around a lake – Lord Song, the three wives, Old Madam, all their servants, the concubines and their children, even all the aunties and uncles and cousins whom Yu could not recall meeting.

With the sunset as a backdrop, the three wives had arranged for Yu to perform a dance on the luxurious pavilion on the lake.

Her face was radiant with smiles and even her eyes were lit up with joy as she took her place on her ‘stage’.  The second the musicians struck a note, her body was alive, gracefully gliding in seamless movements, spinning around as the dusk sunlight wrapped around her.

The audience was awe-struck by this scene.  All their eyes were fixed on the figure who danced as though she was one with the gentle winds.

It was the most magical moment in all of their lives.

For Yu, it was the best birthday she ever had and would ever have.

There was once a boy living in ancient China.  His name was Luhan, but he was better known as the Prince.  He was the only royal son, and was next in line for the throne, so from a young age, he was forced to live up to high expectations.

His mother was a cold, calculative woman who hated her husband, the King, with all her heart.  To her, Luhan had simply been another tool in her plans to take revenge on the King; a more useful tool than others, but still a tool nonetheless.

As a child, Luhan was made to understand his role in the Queen’s grand plan.  His mother wanted to kill the King when he was of age to take over the throne, and from there on, rule the kingdom by making decisions for Luhan.

His growing up years consisted of studying to become the top scholar in the nation, training hard in all sports to come out at the top and practicing his arts until his audience could only profusely pour praises on him.

Before he could think for himself, everything he did was to please the Queen.  Breaking some bones to win a tournament was worth all the pain when his mother awarded him that tight-lipped smile which never reached her eyes.

In his own opinion, the young royal Prince Luhan was solely the creation of the Queen: born from her, shaped by her. 

His hatred of his father stemmed from the very same person.

His step-siblings and the whole entire kingdom admired him greatly for his ability of surpassing anyone in anything, but Luhan could only feel inexplicable disgust towards this man who was his father.  He could vaguely remember a time when the King was his role model and hero, but something had changed.

Now that cynical, critical thoughts honed by his ‘master’ started filling his head, Luhan learned to question everything and everyone.  He knew from lessons that there was a logical answer to every question, and up till now he had agreed.

On a day that did not stand out particularly from the others, he had snuck out as usual and was taking a walk by the lake when he observed a crowd clapping and cheering uproariously, most likely for someone who had just performed.

In that moment, a question entered his mind: What was the purpose of life?  Was it to please others?

No matter how he pondered that question, he still arrived to the same conclusion: there was no meaning to life.  Each and every human being simply lived, and when their time was up, died.

Because of that conclusion, he couldn’t help feeling somewhat amused by the Queen dedicating her life to something so menial.  From that moment onwards, the tables had turned.  Luhan saw how instrumental he was to her plan and how it was his turn to barely tolerate his mother.

Despite how certain he was that he would never find a satisfactory answer to the question and to challenge his own conclusion, it was one of those philosophical puzzles this newly cynical Luhan liked to think about every now and then.

Yu may not have been their own daughter, but the way she looked and smiled at anyone would make even the hardest of hearts melt. 

The most soft-hearted out of the three, Fourth Wife felt most pained as she helplessly watched Yu being pinned down by two servants and it was all she could do to resist the urge to save her, much less help with the process.

On the other hand, Second Wife and Third Wife had no qualms about it.  In their opinion, this should have been done to Yu years ago, because sparing her until she was seven only meant more pain.

Third Wife acted as an assistant, forcing a piece of bark into Yu’s mouth so she would not bite on her own tongue later on.  Firmly and swiftly, Second Wife pulled off the screaming girl’s shoes, then, taking the bandage out of Third Wife’s hands, she wrapped it tightly without any hesitation.

It was over in less than five minutes.

Yet in that moment, Yu felt the world around her collapse as she understood what this meant: she would never, ever dance again.

Since young he had trained himself to mask his true self behind a cleverly crafted façade, showing whichever side was necessary.  He had lied too many times to separate what was truth and what was not.  His life was one tangled mess that would never work out.

Perhaps because of all the lying and hiding, Luhan had somehow forgotten what emotions other than indifference truly felt like.

Happiness, sadness, anger, frustration… all these emotions weren’t completely alien to him.  In another life, long, long ago, he remembered experiencing them.

One emotion eluded him though: love. 

Once, when he was still too young to fully comprehend, he had innocently asked his mother, “Do you love me?”

Luhan knew that as long as he lived, he would never forget the cold and scornful look he had gotten before the Queen gave his face a sharp slap.

“Small children should not ask too many questions, you ignorant little fool.”

For days after, he had to wear a cloth on his face and lie that he was having a cough.  It took one day for the red handprint mark to completely disappear, five days for the cuts made by her rings and nails to heal, and it would take more than a lifetime to accept that his mother detested him.

Six years later, Yu’s foot was completely crushed and transformed into ‘Lily feet’.  In that time, her life too had become as shattered as most of the bones in her tiny feet.

From an outgoing, bubbly girl, she became withdrawn and sullen.  The grins which used to light up her face so easily now became a never seen phenomenon. 

Nobody understood that dancing had not just been a passion; it had been her entire life.  Without the freedom to express herself through those fluid motions, her soul had been blown out like a candle, leaving behind an empty shell with two deformed things called ‘feet’.

At first, everyone tried to cheer her up, only to be responded with objects thrown at them and tantrums. 

Second Wife had praised her for achieving feet that were only 2.5 inches in length; Third Wife said her feet must be the smallest in the kingdom; Fourth Wife told her that all the men would fall for her now – if they were lucky, they simply got a glare, and if not… well, the consequences were, shall we say, ugly.

Gradually they had tired of her ungratefulness and their patience with her wore thin.  Over the years, the entire household learned to avoid the angry girl whenever possible.

Initially, Lord Song had been sleepless with worry over his precious daughter, but as time passed, his work serving the court intensified and he was rarely at home.

He had more than enough of his own troubles, troubles which he dared not confide in anyone.

Soon though, it was impossible to hide the fact that the great noble Song family were falling rapidly.  They had to downgrade into a smaller mansion and sell away most of their treasures.

As things got worse, Lord Song found husbands for his concubines and sent many servants away.  Several family heirlooms had to be sold.

Finally, Lord Song returned home one day as a prisoner guarded by 20 soldiers with terrible news: he had just been charged with corruption.

“But please believe me, I was not the one who stole from the Royal Treasury, I was framed.  If I’m lying, then let the gods strike me down with lightning at once!” he cried out, pulling at his hair.

The whole family was shocked.  “What will happen to us now?”

Lord Song’s face bore a pained expression.  “I’m sorry, but the servants will have to go.  The rest of the Song heirlooms will have to be sold, as will every item in this house.  The money is to be repaid to the Royal Treasury.”

“What about us and our children?” the three wives demanded.

“My three brothers have kindly decided to each take one as his concubine,” he replied, looking away.  At this, Fourth Wife started weeping softly.

Lord Song’s eyes searched the room for one last person, finally resting them on a statuesque figure sitting by the window. 

“Yu… my dearest daughter… your father is sorry for failing you, for not being able to take care of you any longer.  I wish you the best working in the Palace Court,” he broke off, choking. “I hope… I hope you will think of me once in a while, this useless father who sent his own daughter to become a servant.”

Lord Song was led away by the guards, leaving behind a mess of sobbing and devastated family members.  Yu watched, her eyes deep unfathomable pools, as her father walk out of her life forever: those once dependable and sturdy shoulders now drooped, and his once proudly held up head now hung shamefully.

Only much later, as she lay prone on her bed, the last night in comfort, did she allow a single, lone tear to slide down her porcelain cheeks.

Luhan stared blankly straight ahead.  His lanky fifteen year old body was slightly slouched in his allocated seat as he heard but did not listen to the last of a long list of news.

It was something about some judge – or was it someone who worked directly under the King?  Luhan couldn’t be bothered to remember – who had apparently stolen from the Royal Treasury.

The King determined his punishment with the help of the judges and his court nobles, then the morning duties were finished.  Luhan stood up and stretched subtly.

Those ‘scandals’ no longer shocked him.  They were happening very often lately, and Luhan could haphazard a smart guess as to how and why.  It was probably the Queen setting her plan into motion: step one, taking down all the King’s previously loyal subjects and replacing them with corrupt officials who worked for her.

Luhan knew his mother too well.

Overnight, she changed from somebody to nobody.  The marriage arranged for when she turned sixteen was never acknowledged again.  What was once her most prized possession – her looks – now became worthless.  She was simply a servant girl.  All that mattered was how well she could do her chores.

Her bound feet became more of a hindrance, an object of teasing from the other servants.

Yu could not care less; she had learned to disregard everyone else and ignore their empty words.  Instead, she channeled all her hate into her work, scrubbing and washing and cleaning until her whole body ached and her muscles were sore.

Yes, she may be ‘handicapped’, but Yu was determined to prove that nobles’ daughters weren’t just pretty faces.

Most of all, she wanted to shut those annoying sisters up.  The sisters were named Jing and Ying, meaning ‘gold’ and ‘silver’.  They came from a minor noble family who only stayed in the court because their father had won the favour of the Queen. 

From the first day she arrived, they had been picking on her and making her life miserable in general, and Yu could guess why.

Before she came, the sisters were the prettiest among the lower court.  Once you compared them though, it was obvious that Jing and Ying were weeds next to roses.

Really, all she wanted was to be left alone in peace, but that wouldn’t happen unless she showed Jing and Ying that she didn’t want to threaten their positions as the ‘beauties’.

“Young Prince, Young Prince, please wake up!  Your father the King is dead!” a panic-stricken voice interrupted his sleep.

Luhan opened his eyes lazily.  He didn’t, couldn’t feel any grief, or pain, or even shock.  Emotionally and mentally wise, he was already prepared to receive this news.

The entire Palace was in chaos, with messengers running here and there to wake up court officials and the concubines all huddled in a corner, sobbing not because of sadness, but because they were afraid of what would happen to them now.

The Queen, as Luhan expected, was as calm and composed as he was.

“Good morning, Your Majesty,” he bowed in greeting.  In return, the Queen nodded slightly.

“What’s your next step?” he asked, positioning himself next to her in such a way that onlookers would think they were grieving together.

The Queen smirked.  “Never one to beat around the bushes, are you?  We’ll have the funeral over as soon as possible, hopefully a week.  The excuse for that is because of the sudden rise in corruption which we have to solve immediately.  We’ll hold a celebration, partially to ‘send him off as he would have liked’ and partially for you to find a wife.  Once you have a wife, people will trust you more as their King.”

Luhan wondered what having a wife would be like.  Would she love him?  Would he be expected to love her?

A voice inside his head whispered, Don’t be foolish, you’re destined to never experience love.  It’s more like that she will try to overthrow you as well.

Luhan smiled wistfully.  Those words were more true than he would have liked.

“Ying!  Did you hear?  There’s going to be a celebration next week!  They say it’s to send off the King, but rumours say that it’s also for the Prince to find a wife.”

“Really?  I’m sure he’ll choose me!”

“How can you say that?!  I’m the older sister, I should be the one who marries him!”

“Jing!  You should be nicer to your younger sister!”

“Whatever.  I’m going to find our dressmaker now and get him to make the most elaborate, beautiful dress ever for me!”

“No fair!  I want one too!  Jing, wait for me!”

Yu quickly ducked down her head and hoped that they would just walk past her.  Unfortunately, Jing still saw her.

“Ying, look at this piece of trash!” Jing chortled, kicking over the bucket.  Dirty water soaked through Yu’s rags.

Ying sniggered.  “Too bad this little ‘princess’ won’t be allowed to attend the ball.  I mean, look at her, totally disgusting clothes!”

Laughing loudly, the sisters left after making a few more hurtful remarks about Yu. 

The latter gritted her teeth hard and clenched her fists tightly, willing herself to hold in her temper until they left.

What’s so good about meeting that Prince anyways?  He may be handsome and talented, but people nickname him ‘Ice Prince’ because of how emotionless he is.  I wouldn’t want to be associated with that guy – he sounds like a jerk.  Yu thought, scrubbing the floor vengefully.

Besides, she was sure she wouldn’t fall in love ever again.  Not after… him.  Zhang Yixing.

Just thinking about his name brought back a flood of memories.  They had only been kids, but Yu was sure the love they had for each other was true and pure.

They were never fated to be: she of noble blood, he a servant’s son.  But for those few short days they had spent together, the happiness they had was something time nor any other evil could taint. 

He too, had been ‘handicapped’; he was born with one leg longer than the other.  At a time when she had needed a friend most, he had been there for her.  He taught her how to smile and laugh again, but when he left without saying anything, the little part of her he had just revived died all over again.

Everyone thought she had changed because of her bound foot.  That was only half correct.  They never found out about those glorious days she came alive again, and would never understand that having that happiness snatched away from her a second time destroyed her more than it had the first time.

Loving him surpassed having the ability to dance with the breezes.

At the same time, loving him tore her apart.

She was sure, so sure, she would never love again.

“We will be having a troupe of the best dancers and the best musicians in the whole land to provide entertainment.  In addition to that…”

Luhan nodded absentmindedly to everything the court official in charge of planning was telling him.  His mind automatically noted down everything even while he was thinking of something entirely different.

Lately, his mind kept wandering back to that one walk by the lake, where the Question had occurred to him.  It wasn’t the Question that kept appearing though; it was the image of the young girl who had been performing.  His eyes had caught her at the exact moment when she had leapt into the air, and in his memory, she was suspended there in a breathtakingly stunning painting.

Suddenly he thought, If I could just watch her dance, I could die happily.

Luhan blinked rapidly to clear that absurd thought.  What are you thinking?  Don’t be distracted, Xi Luhan.  Concentrate!

Still, you can’t deny that you want to watch her dance again, a little voice taunted.

This all-knowing voice was beginning to tick him off.

“Yu, wake up!” a loud whisper tickled her ear.

Yu shot up from her half-lying position, her eyes and ears all alert, ready to scream for help if needed… except there was no intruder.  “Who… no, where are you?” hearing her own voice startled her.  It had been, what, more than 5 years since she had really used it?

The owner of the voice giggled, and somehow Yu found it very familiar.  “Don’t worry, I’ll appear in a minute.  I wouldn’t say I’m your ‘fairy godfather’ or anything, but I’m here to help you.”

“Help me?  I don’t need any help.  I’m doing just fine on my own.”

“If you say so.  Close your eyes and when I count to three, open them.”

Yu didn’t know why, but she complied.  “One… two… three!”  She opened her eyes.  In front of her, someone very familiar had appeared.

Her eyes widened in disbelief.  “Yi-Yixing ge, is that you?”

The person – if he was one – grinned cheekily.  “Of course, who else could it be?”

“But… but how did you…”

“That’s not the point right now.  The important thing right now is: Do you still want to perform?”

The thousands of things she wanted to say to him were stuck in .  The only words that came out were, “I… I suppose so.”

“Good!” he clapped in delight.  “You can do that right now!”

In a wave of his hand, he transformed her into one of the court dancers.  As he ushered her into the hall, his parting words were, “We’ll meet again.  And remember, you have to leave once the gong sounds.”

Luhan had never felt more bored or fake in his life, and that was a new achievement, considering that that was what his life basically consisted of.

Nothing interested him.  He couldn’t wait to for the celebration to be over.

Then, the musicians struck up another tune and the promised dancers glided in.  One dancer in particular caught his attention.  The way she danced was different from the rest.  It was as though she was putting her entire soul into the movements, moving as one with the music.

She reminded him of the young girl from many years ago.

As the music’s pace quickened, so did the dance.  The dancers spun faster, and to Luhan’s surprise, the one he considered to be the best stumbled.  Any other person wouldn’t have seen it, but his eyes noticed the smallest detail, the smallest movement.

His eyes strayed to the floor and he felt frozen by what he say.

On the floor were smudged lines of blood.  The dancer’s feet was bleeding.

She felt exhilarated.  It was something she hadn’t felt for a long time, and now that she did, the freedom of dancing almost helped her forget who she was now.

At this moment that didn’t matter.  Nothing mattered anymore except the music and her.

Balancing on tiny feet which barely supported her walking was a painful challenge, but being able to dance lessened the pain greatly.  In fact, she could barely feel it.

The music came to an end even though she didn’t want it to.  Deliberately, she moved to the center of the hall and started dancing again, disregarding the other confused court dancers who were filing out of the hall.  She didn’t need music – it was in her head.

As she spun around, one man caught her attention.  He too, seemed to be fixated on her.

Their eyes met.  The hall might be filled with people, but it was as though there were only the two of them… and then a loud gong sounded, and the moment was ruined.

Yixing’s words echoed in her head.  She had to get out, now.

Desperately she looked around for an exit.  Everyone seemed to be moving around, jostling into her.  She became more aware of the acute pain in her feet as she tried to run towards an opening.

Luhan stood up abruptly as she ran off once the gong sounded.  Ignoring the shouts from his ‘guards’, he sprinted after her, pushing away people in his path.

She was limping badly now, yet because of her head start, he was some distance behind.  He followed her out of the palace gates.  The path she was taking was one well-travelled by him.

Soon, her destination came into view.  The lake was shimmering as soft breezes blew ripples, contorting the full moon’s reflection in the calm waters.

The dancer ran right up to the pavilion ‘floating’ on the lake, immediately transporting Luhan back to that day.

For some reason, her legs had carried her to the lake, right back into the pavilion from her fateful seventh birthday.

Her vision was blurring and she felt faint.

She couldn’t tell if it was now or if it was that day again.

The second the musicians struck a note, her body was alive, gracefully gliding in seamless movements, spinning around as the bright moonlight wrapped around her.

She didn’t want to stop.  If she stopped, her feet would hurt again.

Was it just her imagination or was she dancing in a pool of thick liquid?

In her delirious state, she thought she saw her crowd change from the extended Song family to one lone figure, someone who looked like the godlike man at the hall.  But that wasn’t possible, was it?

Yu didn’t know anymore.

Luhan was transfixed by the graceful dancing silhouette of her.

If I could just watch her dance, I could die happily.

He didn’t know who she was and he wasn’t sure, but this feeling in his heart…

… was it love?

There was once a girl who lived in ancient China.  Her name was Yu.

There was once a boy who lived in ancient China.  His name was Luhan.

She was a girl from a noble family.  Dancing was her life, and without it, she would rather die.

He was a boy from a peasant family.  But the King exchanged him with his own son, who had been born with one leg longer than the other, and just like that, he became a Prince.

They only met for such a short time, but their love was true and pure.

When the gong struck, marking the end, she ran away from him.

Even though he could not love her, he chased after her.

By sunrise, all that was left of her was a little bloody shoe, exactly 2.5 inches long.

And all that was left of him, was love just enough to fill that little bloody shoe.