Chapter Sixty-Three: The Banquet

As the many guests gradually took their seats, the grand banquet began.

Feng Yewu sat upright upon the lofty imperial throne, surveying all beneath her with a heroic bearing that was revealed in its fullest. Many of the foreign envoys who beheld her couldn't help but think that this sovereign woman was truly the equal of any man.

"Let the feast begin!" cried Eunuch Mingde in a clear, ringing voice.

"Officials, take your places!" At his order, the civil and military officials filed into their seats in turn, sitting with their robes and hats immaculate, gazing quietly at Feng Yewu.

"Bring forth the celebratory feast." At this command, the eunuchs and palace maids emerged from afar, proceeding in orderly fashion to set out the delicacies, arranging them one by one with meticulous care.

"Now, your Majesty, address your court!"

When the attendants had withdrawn, Feng Yewu looked out over the assembled officials and guests, and spoke slowly and solemnly.

"Our nation’s peace and prosperity are owed to the assistance of the vassal kings and the valor of our generals. To you all, I offer my thanks!"

The officials rose, bowing together with voices in unison, "It is our duty. May your Majesty’s life be as enduring as the heavens!"

On the side reserved for the foreign delegation, Gunaro watched the solemn faces of the court with an air of detachment, finding the whole spectacle somewhat bizarre. She could not suppress a laugh, covering her mouth quietly.

The Southern Barbarian Prince shot her a sharp, warning glare. "No mischief!"

Startled by her uncle’s stern look, Gunaro shrank back, sticking out her tongue in a gesture of mild reproach. The palace maid attending her could scarcely maintain her composure upon hearing Gunaro’s faint mutterings.

Meanwhile, Feng Yewu, having delivered her formal address, resumed her seat upon the throne, betraying no emotion save a brief, silent glance.

To her left sat Prince Huainan, Zhou Yi'an; Prince Jiangyuan, Zhu Bangyan; Prince Xiyue, Qian Jingxi; and finally, Prince Kangchuan, Wu Xuanluo. They were, just as in her previous life, languid and arrogant in their demeanor.

On the other side sat Prince Changwu, Chen Sinian; Prince Pingyi, Wang Changgeng; and Prince Beichang, Wei Siyuan. These three sat upright and solemn, their bearing dignified and composed, as though the weight of their titles rested comfortably upon their shoulders.

Their appearance made it plain how much importance they attached to the occasion.

"The gifts from the esteemed vassal kings are truly emblematic of our capital's unique character," Feng Yewu observed with a smile lingering in her eyes, her words of praise laced with biting irony as she looked at those to her left and right.

Hearing this, the four vassal princes showed visible discomfort, their faces tinged with shame. As they remained silent, Feng Yewu feigned a weary sigh.

"I have long been troubled by the thought of receiving foreign envoys without suitable gifts to present as tokens of our great nation's generosity," she lamented. "But seeing the thoughtful offerings prepared by the vassal kings today, my mind is at ease."

Yet where she found solace, the princes of Huainan, Jiangyuan, Xiyue, and Kangchuan felt their hearts sink.

"I must trouble you, esteemed princes, to procure more of these gifts, so that the envoys who have come to celebrate my birthday may take them home and distribute them among their own rulers and ministers," she continued. "In this way, the unique character of our great nation will shine forth."

Feng Yewu spoke with grand magnanimity, but the four princes could only feel the pain in their hearts. With hundreds of foreign envoys present, each representing their own nation, supplying so many gifts was no small matter.

Yet in the presence of so many, they could not refuse, and so, with bitter smiles, they nodded their reluctant assent.

Having received their agreement, Feng Yewu turned her gaze to Prince Pingyi, Prince Beichang, and Prince Changwu.

Prince Pingyi and Prince Changwu maintained impassive expressions, while Prince Beichang, Wei Siyuan, smiled, his eyes brimming with challenge.

"Since Your Majesty has spoken, these trifles are of little consequence—what harm is there in sending more?" he replied.

Their eyes met, and Feng Yewu’s smile faded slightly. She responded simply, "So much the better."

Wei Siyuan raised his wine cup in a gesture of elegance, responding with a solitary drink. Yet to Feng Yewu, this gesture was like a serpent flicking its tongue in the depths of the abyss.

Suddenly, she remembered that the Northern Frontier General’s estate was located within Wei Siyuan’s fief. Suspicion crept into her mind—the matter of the Northern Frontier General must surely be connected to the Prince of Beichang.

Slowly, Feng Yewu lifted the cup before her, sipping lightly. The mellow aroma filled her throat, its warmth soothing the tangled thoughts in her heart.

Thus the feast commenced, the clinking of cups and exchange of toasts carrying the evening onward.

At the height of the banquet, the Prime Minister rose from his seat below and bowed to Feng Yewu.

"Your Majesty, in my household I have found an artist of exceptional skill in dance. In the presence of so many foreign guests today, I hope to offer this performance to display the grace and spirit of our great nation."

Feng Yewu smiled. "You are thoughtful indeed, Prime Minister. I grant your request."

With the emperor’s assent, the Prime Minister made arrangements.

Soon, a troupe of gorgeously attired women appeared at the center of the courtyard.

By now, the banquet was well underway. Most guests were pleasantly tipsy, and the sight of these graceful dancers was a feast for the eyes.

But seated at Feng Yewu’s right hand, Prince Pingyi, Wang Changgeng, suddenly froze, his face paling with discomfort.

And with good reason—the lead dancer of the troupe was none other than Zhao Xiyan.

Wang Changgeng’s heart filled with worry, afraid that Zhao Xiyan might truly attempt to assassinate Feng Yewu in so brazen a manner.

The prince, who had been somewhat inebriated, was abruptly sobered by the revelation. Only when the Prime Minister had announced the performance did he recall Zhao Xiyan’s presence.

He watched her every move with hawk-like intensity, his mind as clear as ice.

Wei Siyuan, seated nearby, took note of Wang Changgeng’s tense demeanor, further confirming his own suspicions.

Zhao Xiyan, with her delicate features half veiled in crimson gauze, seemed all the more mysterious and alluring, her dancing of unsurpassed elegance and charm. Not only the men, but even Feng Yewu herself found her heart stirred at the sight.

As the music faded, Zhao Xiyan’s dance came to an end, and thunderous applause and cheers erupted from all around. Feng Yewu, well pleased, joined in the applause.

The guests praised the performance, voicing their disappointment that it had ended too soon. For Wang Changgeng, however, it felt like the longest interval of his life.

As the applause and cheers continued, Zhao Xiyan and her companions bowed to Feng Yewu, preparing to withdraw—carrying away with them Wang Changgeng's anxiety.

Just as Wang Changgeng felt his wildly beating heart begin to settle, a voice called out, yanking his heart back into his throat.

"Wait!"

The words rang out unhurriedly as Prince Beichang, Wei Siyuan, rose with a slight smile.

Upon hearing the voice from the dais, Zhao Xiyan started. Indeed, she had considered assassinating Feng Yewu once she took the stage. But seeing the ever-anxious gaze of Prince Pingyi fixed upon her, she had wisely abandoned the notion.

"Prince Beichang? What is it you wish to say?" Feng Yewu’s tone was guarded as she addressed Wei Siyuan. After all, he now topped her list of dangerous individuals. Since suspecting his involvement in the Lu family massacre, she had resolved never again to underestimate him.