Chapter 129 Chapter 127 Dance
Jima’s expressionless face was somewhat pale, as if she had lost her soul, and she stepped out of the room one step at a time.
Behind her, the voice of the bed performance instructor followed:
“You did very well, keep it up.”
The elf Letice said as she gently pushed Jima’s back, closed the door, and added, “We’ll continue tomorrow!”
Jima let out a barely audible groan. To “inject soul” into her movements was simple; she just had to imagine that the teaching tool in front of her was a despicable, perverse virgin man fixated on tails. How shameful, Jima believed in her acting skills; she believed she could do it.
As a result…
Her small hand grazed her backside, and it stung hotly with pain.
There was no choice; for the sake of her body, she had to endure a little humiliation.
She walked step by step toward the hall, ready to take a good rest.
In the lavishly decorated hall, the golden carvings on the ceiling shone brightly. At the round table, an aging maid was dozing off on the table, but when Jima plopped down onto the sofa, the maid immediately opened her eyes and said:
“Child, you’ve come out so early?”
Jima instinctively straightened her back, sounding weak and feeble as she replied:
“Teacher Letice said I did well and let me rest a bit, old maid.”
The old maid looked at her with pity, saying:
“Although she’s quite perverted, her skills are really impressive. You must learn well and capture the hearts of men.”
For some reason, the despicable face of the virgin man popped into Jima’s mind, and she felt annoyed, imagining punching his face into pieces.
“I’ll do my best.”
“That’s good, take a rest.”
Jima’s tense body finally relaxed as she lay on the sofa, her legs bent and resting on the ornate armrests, her long legs in white stockings swaying adorably.
The old maid nodded in satisfaction, feeling admiration for the insight of the great benefactor. A girl as charming and lovely as Jima would surely drive men mad, wanting to give their entire wealth to the great benefactor.
At that point, according to the great benefactor’s agreement, she would receive one percent of the cash reward. She had a premonition that this time, Jima’s auction price would be higher than the previous years’ “Flower of Shalin City” combined.
Recalling the auction prices of the “Flower of Shalin City” from previous years, the old maid felt exhilarated. The cash reward was just part of it; the great benefactor would also bestow her land and property, allowing her to live a wealthy and respectable life. Every week, she would sail on flower boats, drink white sand wine, and eat perch. On weekends, she could relax in the countryside or attend parties.
When she grows older, she need not worry. Someone would attend to her, and she could enjoy life without even getting out of bed.
Thinking of this, the old maid unknowingly revealed a smile. The troubles from her nightmares disappeared without a trace.
Jima stared blankly at the ceiling, feeling a shiver run down her spine when she caught a glimpse of the old maid’s murky eyes, which were fixed on her with a smile, just like a fishmonger gazing at golden fish on a chopping block.
Jima would swear on her own tail that the old woman was totally fantasizing about the good life she would have after Jima was auctioned off. Ignoring the covetousness in her eyes, Jima could still sense her greed. To confirm, Jima opened her “desire eyes,” and it was just as she expected.
She slightly turned her body, her eyes looking at the back of the sofa, but she could still feel the greedy gaze directed at her from behind.
To distract herself, she thought about her urgent priority—getting full.
She still had to find George; the taste of other men was disgusting and she needed to get used to it again. Fortunately, she had quietly marked a dream seed for George earlier… but the question was, how could she guide him to have a romantic dream without him noticing? Must the heroine of the romantic dream be her?
Jima’s thoughts wandered. If she could, she wouldn’t want to personally seduce a virgin man. The very thought of lewd actions like lying on the bed and lifting her legs made her feel shameful.
“Get up, lazy cat. Your dance teacher is still waiting for you.”
It had barely been ten minutes.
Jima pouted:
“I’m sleepy, you know how Teacher Letice is, old maid.”
The old maid, holding a ruler, clapped her hands and said:
“Get up! If you keep lying down, you won’t be able to get up; you’ll fall asleep.”
“Okay, I’m up, I’m up.”
“That’s a good child. I’m doing this for your own good.”
Jima noticed the symbol of greed, the blue vortex on her chest, standing out among the swirling air pockets and gave a cold snort in her heart.
Ten minutes later, under the supervision of the old maid, Jima finished a shower and changed into a backless white chiffon dance dress. She stepped into the dance instructor’s room like a little swan.
The door opened in front of Jima. The rhythm from the music stone was slow and filled with a hint of flirtation, like a soft drizzle falling on the heart. A brown-skinned woman in a red dance dress exposed a large area of skin as she swayed her hips to the rhythm, spinning, undulating like a water snake, resembling a mermaid.
Jima became transfixed, staring at her incredibly flexible waist and abdomen, filled with envy and the thought, “How wonderful it would be if I could dance like that.”
This dance was leagues above the butt dance the brown-skinned woman had taught her just days ago. Compared to it, the butt dance seemed utterly crude, like the vulgar dances in a brothel. This dance was of much higher quality and far more seductive.
If she could perform this dance at the auction, it would be vastly superior to that butt dance that was worse than home dances. Those eligible for the auction were all battle-hardened veterans; pure, unskilled flesh dances could only bore them and generate little desire, making it difficult for her to achieve her revenge.
Jima was deep in thought.
The brown-skinned woman had her back to them, slowly gathering her shiny black hair into a bun with both hands, exposing a black wing tattoo on her back, with several strands of hair clinging to her neck, incredibly alluring. What made it worse was that her hips were twisting dynamically to the rhythm of the mysterious music.
Jima’s eyes widened again.
The old maid, who hoped Jima would practice twenty-four hours a day, finally spoke after the music stopped: “Back then, she rose to fame with this dance as the dark horse of the year.”
Jima finally understood why this otherwise unremarkable-looking woman—with a large mouth and thick nose—could become a top performer through her dance skills.
As the brown-skinned woman let her hair down and turned her head, the beauty of the dancer faded significantly. The old maid left and closed the door.
Jima’s eyes sparkled as she said:
“Teacher, can you teach me the dance you just did?”
The brown-skinned woman looked coldly at Jima, as if Jima had just told a hilarious yet insulting joke.
She replied, “Do you think you can learn it? I practiced hard for over ten years before daring to say I grasped it a little. You might as well continue practicing your butt dance.”
“But yesterday you said I had already mastered my butt dance quite well.”
“Well does not mean perfect, and it certainly doesn’t mean you possess unparalleled dancing talent. It can only be said that you have a talent for selling your backside,” the brown-skinned woman’s voice sharpened. “Even if you have talent, without years of practice, you won’t be able to master it. Just stick to dancing simple, mindless selling dances; that’s what men like.”
