At this moment, a burst of music roared, and thirty strange costumes rushed out from both sides of the stage, kicking the thighs from under the rainbow colorful bottom ribbon according to the rhythm of the music.

Each one was dressed as a watery flower, and their legs trembled like stamens in their petals.

As they galloped across the stage, they all seemed to have a bright and moving smiling face, as if they were being swept by a gust of wind.

Out of this whirlpool danced a high-bottomed, feminine woman with a red-troned soldier with a dull face and a red nose and a wrinkled hat to the footlamp.

Hundreds of hands clapped and cheered. The slender, light-bottomed woman, wearing a knee-length blouse, turned around laughing, yelling, and glancing at the box on the side.

The soldier paused, bowed, and dropped his kiss. The woman screamed, put her arms around the man, and both bowed to the audience at the same time, then jumped up very.

The shouting of the dancers, the frowning of the soldiers, the swaying of the thirty dancers to the rhythm of the music, the melody of the audience, the sound of the brass drums, the chirping of the orchestra, the continuous turbulence of the dancers' diverse brilliance—all this creates the impression of condensation—the whole theater seems to leap into space.

He was standing in the ballroom. The lights are on, and the tape recorder plays Strauss's cheerful waltzes. The college students, who are usually very serious, seem to have broken free from their contemplation, and they are as lively as larks.

Pairs of dance partners, along with hexagonal fuchsia tiles on the floor, fill the hall. Sometimes they walk slowly, like small waves in a flat lake, and sometimes they suddenly fly like fallen leaves in a whirlwind...... He was dizzy, as if the ground on which he was standing was about to collapse deeply.

He just wanted to turn around and squeeze out, but suddenly, a girl who picked a few walked up to him generously and bent her knees slightly to make an inviting motion.

"No, I won't ......," his face flushed.

"No, you can learn!" she said, a hand on his shoulder. He didn't know how he got into the dance group.

At first, he was so nervous that he felt like he had walked into a special examination room. He had no sense of rhythm at all, like a heavy sack of flour: dragged around by the girl, and when he tried to get rid of it, he felt that he was as clumsy as a bear.

A delicate girl danced wildly, drawing the eyes of the man sitting on the sofa next to the ballroom on her.

Although the lights on the dance floor were blurry, in that bright moment, the boys could see clearly, her chest was so high, her waist was so thin, she was spinning, light, fluttering, with the fast rhythm of the sound, the percussion tom, the roar of the orchestra, like a sea storm, it was shocking, exciting, terrifying and hearty.

So, the men's eyes chased her breasts greedily, trying to catch the beauty of her breasts fluttering, and they couldn't help but think of the beautiful and delicious words, and they couldn't help but taste it.

But the girl spun too fast, her feet were as light and fast as a dragonfly dotting water, and as soon as the men saw something, she turned around again, and there was a burst of cheers, and she spun and flew up, and her skirt was unkempt, like an open flower umbrella, revealing her round thighs, and the taut white briefs, so that people wanted to take a look at the taut place, hoping that she could freeze the content, but she spun it in an instant, and spun it again, so that the men's eyes did not have time to blink.

So, these men, in the shaking of light and shadow, reflected the blood color of jewels for a while, and the green like hungry wolves for a while.

Their shouts and whistles were like a tsunami rushing up to the earth, and then they were shattered by the strong rhythm of electronic music, like flying sand.

People went crazy, and they were provoked by the girl's swirling skirt and trembling breasts, one by one in the light and shadow, in the sound, rolling, struggling, rising and falling, calling for help...... At the same moment, there was a wave of exclamation and praise from the end of the hall.

A young girl walked into the ballroom. A light blue veil covered her head and chest, but the arcs of her eyes, the cyan agate earrings, and the white skin were still faintly recognizable.

She wore a sparkling satin scarf tied around her waist with a belt intertwined with gold and silver threads, and a pair of black shorts embroidered with mandala flowers.

She walked lazily inside, a pair of hummingbird feather slippers crackling at her feet. She walked up to the high altar and took off her veil: it was like a Herodia who had returned to her youth.

She started dancing. She treads to the beat of the flute and castanets, alternating her feet back and forth. She stretched her arms lightly, as if to summon a fleeing man to return.

She chased after him, her body lighter than a butterfly, like a curious psyche, like a wandering ghost, ready to fly in the air at any moment.

The Hu Ji plays a bleak mournful music in place of the beat of the castanets. Hope turned to disillusionment. Her posture was like a silent lament.

She was so delicate that she couldn't tell which god she was mourning or whether she was dying in his caresses. She opened her starry eyes slightly, twisted her waist slightly, and swung her abdomen trembling like waves**;

Vitellius compares her to Nestaire, a famous dancer. Eulus was still vomiting. The vassal king was in a trance, like in a dream, and left Herodia aside.

He seemed to see her with the priests of the Retreat. The hallucinations fade away. It's not an illusion.

It turned out that she had left her daughter Salome far away from Mageiros in the hope that Antipas would fall in love with her in the future, and that was indeed a good idea.

Now she was sure that she was in love, and then the girl burst out with a burst of love, hoping to be satisfied with love.

She danced like a priestess in an island nation in the Indian Ocean, like a Nubian girl by a waterfall, like a witch at the Lydian Dionysian festival.

She fell on all sides like a flower ravaged by a storm, her jeweled ears fluttering, the scarf on her back glittering, and from under her arms, under her feet, under her clothes, burst out a series of invisible sparks that stirred the hearts of men.

A harp played a beautiful music, and the hall was filled with the sound of color. She split her legs and leaned down until her chin brushed gently across the floor, and the abstinent nomads, the Roman soldiers, the unwieldy tax collectors, and the old clergymen all bared their nostrils, and their hearts pounded with intense desire.

Then she swirled wildly around Antipas's table, like a diamond-shaped magic weapon shaken by a witch.

The vassal king said to her, "Come here!" His voice was slurred, mixed with whimpering.