Peerless Dancer

Chapter 7: Autographs

The men quickly brought over tables, chairs, and writing materials. We sat down, but none of the women in line had paper. How were we supposed to sign anything?

The first in line was a girl around fifteen or sixteen, with delicate features and a charming aura. She blushed as I looked at her, making me wonder if I had also become quite handsome.

From her pocket, she took out a neatly folded handkerchief, white as snow, with a beautifully embroidered daffodil. Shy but determined, she said, "My name is Narcissus. Could you write this for me: 'Narcissus, light and graceful,' and then sign your name?"

"Sure thing!" I said, and with a few strokes, the handkerchief was imbued with a faint scent of ink.

Seeing my calligraphy, the girl exclaimed, “Wow! Such beautiful handwriting!” Her joy was infectious, lighting up her face.

"Let me see, Narcissus!" the people behind her clamored.

Narcissus showed off her handkerchief, and the crowd murmured in admiration, praising the artistry. Comments like, “Such beautiful script!” and “Even better than the renowned Mr. Smile!” filled the air.

I couldn't help but feel a bit smug. After all, I was an archaeology doctoral student; this bit of calligraphy was nothing for me.

Dragon Dan's calligraphy was equally impressive, her cursive flowing like a dragon’s dance. The crowd’s admiration and the orderly line gave us some reassurance.

Dragon Dan spoke to me in English to avoid being understood, "I think we’re safe for now."

"Maybe. Let’s see. Survival first."

The madam, beaming with delight, approached us, "Mr. Wu, Mr. Long, such exquisite handwriting! Bravo!”

I frowned, resigning myself to keep writing.

A luxurious woman in the crowd, attended by a group of maids, addressed the madam, "Flower Mama, where did you find these treasures?"

Flower Mama, indeed. A fitting name for someone who sullies the beauty of flowers, I thought. If all flowers were like her, no one would love flowers.

The madam, with a smile spreading wider than a mouse, responded, “Oh, Mrs. Jin, it’s been a while! Lucky you came today; soon, this place will be swarming!”

Mrs. Jin, never taking her eyes off us, said, “Good thing I came today, otherwise I’d never have had the chance!”

The madam’s grin was so broad, it was almost scary, "Indeed, business at Flower Sparrow Pavilion is about to skyrocket!”

Dragon Dan, understanding the implications, whispered in English, "Are we becoming male dancers?"

"Seems like it."

“Damn it! Using us to make money! Bastards!” Dragon Dan cursed, making me laugh.

In moments like these, Dragon Dan’s refined demeanor would c***k, revealing her disdain in the crudest terms. Usually so poised, she’d occasionally burst out with profanity when we were alone, ruining the illusion.

I whispered back, "Right now, even that wouldn’t be an empty boast."

Mrs. Jin and the madam chatted animatedly, their words filled with glee.

I frowned and continued signing, lost in thought. What’s really going on here? How did we turn into men, and why did the madam want us to perform? Too many questions swirled in my mind.

Using English, I told Dragon Dan, “We need to take the initiative, turn our passive situation into an active one. If we don’t, we’ll never make it back to the 21st century.”

Dragon Dan calmly replied, “I find life in the 21st century quite dull. Staying here for a while might be an adventure. You always said life was boring.”

I worried Dragon Dan might be scared of our situation, but her openness surprised me.

"If you think so, that’s a relief," I said. "But being a man is pretty unpleasant."

"I’ve always hated men. Now, I’ve become one. Imagine needing to stand up to urinate. It’s disgusting.”

Dragon Dan made a face of disgust, and I shared her sentiment. “Agreed! Men don't like to bathe or do laundry. It’s gross! Hey, do you think I look handsome as a man?”

“Let’s find a mirror. How do you expect me to say?” Dragon Dan replied, “You look like that guy who kept sending me flowers last year.”

Despite countless admirers, Dragon Dan never spoke ill of them, no matter how absurd their actions seemed. She never belittled them, even if they were far below her standards.

I remembered the guy she mentioned, quite decent, witty, though not tall. But he wasn’t up to Dragon Dan’s high standards.

Feeling smug, I realized I was among the lower ranks of her admirers.

I muttered a curse under my breath, but Dragon Dan didn’t hear me.