"The elixir of immortality was meant for HouYi and her, but thieves tried to prise it from her possession. Desperate, Chang'E swallowed the elixir of immortality and floated to the moon, doomed to live a life of solitude with her jade rabbit as her sole companion."
Lady of the Moon—the Immortalist Tales
CHAPTER FIVE
Biyu pressed his hand against my face in an effort to keep me still, but my eye burned where the brush stroked near it. I flinched every time the brush prickled my skin, and I could barely keep my eyes open as he drew a wet black line across the edge of my eyelids.
"Ouch," I said as he poked me again with the brush. "You're hurting me."
"Well, stop moving," he said through a mouthful of pins. "I can't line your eyes well if you don't keep still."
"It's itchy," I said. "Why are you using a new brush? This one is so prickly."
"The old one broke yesterday," he said. "Hold still."
I grumbled again, then jumped lightly as his trained fingers blended the wet white powder on my scars. He was the only person I allowed to touch my face. Anyone else I'd fling their hands off and punched them in the nose. Even when Mr. Long first painted my face as a demonstration, I'd almost bitten his fingers off. After that, the theater master kept his distance.
After Biyu fixed my makeup, I helped him with his headdress. With quick fingers, I braided his hair and twisted it up into a tight bun which I secured with a large black pin. His headdress was blue with white cloud-like swirls.
"Your turn." Biyu pushed me gently, shoulders down, onto a chair in front of the large bronze mirror. Like mine, his fingers flew expertly in and out of sight as he plaited my wig, wound it into a bun, and slid my black and gold headdress over my head. The little glass and metal tassels clinked against each other as I stood up and checked myself in the mirror.
I was completely unrecognizable underneath my white painted face, the elaborate black robes, and the intricate headdress.
There was no Sarna Jinyu, only the woman who was the High Demons. It was easier to face the Imperials as the High Demons. The High Demons feared nothing, even when they launched into a full-out war with the High Immortals, knowing that they had the low ground. Like the High Demons, I'd face the Imperials as fearlessly as they'd faced war.
After checking everything was in place, we made our way to the Pearl Hall where Mr. Long waited outside.
My hands were clammy around my performance fan, and beads of sweat had welled up underneath all my masks. I had never felt so nervous before a performance before. Dancing and Facechanging came as naturally to me as breathing. But now, my legs were lead, and the memorized dances in my mind threatened to vanish the moment I stepped onto the stage.
YOU ARE READING
A Thousand Burning Masks
FantastikCHINESE ARYA STARK meets THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA. *A Wattpad Featured story* When everyone wears a mask, who do you trust? In the unforgiving empire of Erden where the Imperials reign supreme, Sarna is a slave. After escaping the brothel where a m...