As the lanterns first lit up the dusk, Xie Yuzhang had already arrived at Taiji Hall, where the banquet was to be held.
This was a great occasion for the Imperial Music Bureau to shine. Left Eunuch Fang was overwhelmed with preparations, and seeing her arrive, let out a “Gracious me!” and hurried forward. “Your Highness has come too early — it’s not yet time.”
His mouth said this, but his heart was pleased. Early was always better than late, the kind of lateness that would have him frantic. Princess Baohua was truly considerate and good-natured.
“It doesn’t matter. I want to go look at who’s here today.” Xie Yuzhang assumed the air of a lively and curious young girl.
Left Eunuch Fang smiled. “Then go in from the side and take a quiet peek.”
Xie Yuzhang smiled, lifted her skirts, and went.
Left Eunuch Fang cupped his hands around his mouth. “Your Highness, just one look — come back quickly.”
“I know~” Xie Yuzhang answered with a laugh.
Her slender figure had already disappeared behind one of the great pillars, wide enough for two people to wrap their arms around.
There was not an inner palace guard or eunuch who did not recognize Xie Yuzhang. Seeing her lift her skirts and tiptoe in — her face alight with a charming smile, pressing a finger to her lips with a shush whenever a guard newly caught sight of her — everyone broke into smiles and not a single one moved to stop her.
Xie Yuzhang slipped quietly into the great hall and concealed herself behind a massive pillar.
The smile she had worn just a moment before was gone from her face. Her dark, jade-like eyes searched through the light of the enormous candles and found Li Ming quickly — a stocky, compact figure who became something of a squat lump seated there.
The future founding Emperor was seated to Li Ming’s side, attending him.
The bright candlelight fell across his face — a high, straight nose, deep dark eyes, thin lips pressed into a cool and stern line.
The banquet had already begun. The opening remarks and formalities were done, and most of the guests had relaxed. Yet Li Gu remained kneeling in formal posture, his body angled toward Li Ming, the better to serve him.
From behind the pillar, at this distance, the line of that young man’s shoulder, back, and waist was balanced and solid — as if that lean body contained immense force coiled within.
So in her past life, he had been seated in this very position.
Because of Li Ming’s rank, Li Gu’s position was quite far forward. When she had entered to dance for the Emperor, she had in fact been very close to him — he must have been able to see her very clearly indeed.
So he truly had seen her at this time — had watched her dance.
Xie Yuzhang had been gazing for a moment and was about to turn away when her eyes swept over the guests on her side of the hall and fell on a man in foreign dress, his back turned as he spoke with someone beside him — a high, straight nose, deep-set eyes, a face unmistakably familiar.
She went rigid all at once, her whole body turning cold.
After a long moment she slowly retreated, concealing herself in the shadow of the great pillar.
A beautiful palace maid offered up a jade vessel and poured Li Ming’s cup full, then withdrew like flowing water. The cup was exquisite and precious — but for a rough man of the northwest like Li Ming, it was rather too small.
The cup was emptied in an instant.
Li Gu himself drank not a drop of wine. Seeing Li Ming’s cup emptied, he immediately took up the flask and refilled it.
Setting down the jade vessel, he furrowed his brow and looked toward the great pillar across the hall.
“What is it?” Li Ming also glanced over. There was nothing there.
Between the pillars stood only the inner palace guards holding their halberds — every one of them handsome, their silver armor gleaming as handsomely as they were. Together with the lovely palace maids and sharp-witted eunuchs, they adorned the banquet hall in a glittering, radiant blaze.
“Nothing.” Li Gu looked away. “Just now I had the feeling someone was watching me.”
“Oh?” Li Ming smiled. “Then it must be the palace maids. There are so many young ladies in the palace — they rarely see men from outside, and can’t help sneaking a look or two.”
He laughed at this — rather unbecomingly, given his age.
Li Gu kept a straight face. “Commander, please don’t joke.”
Li Ming clicked his tongue. “Little Eleventh, you’re younger than the Twelfth yet old and stiff as an elder even compared to me. How do you expect to be worthy of being my son?”
Li Gu’s brows and eyes were stern. “Otherwise, why would I deserve to be Commander’s adopted son?”
Li Ming was stumped. He shot Li Gu a glare, then couldn’t help laughing and shaking his head, and drank his wine.
The wine had gone through several rounds. Toasts were offered for the Emperor, someone recited poetry, someone even danced with a sword.
The sword gleamed silver and bright — naturally, a sword with no edge. The sword dance was of course a performance and not true swordsmanship. An actual sword in real combat would look nothing like this so beautiful. Any one of these elaborate, complex flourishes would probably have gotten you stabbed seventeen or eighteen times before you finished, Li Gu thought privately.
Yet this sword dance won the Emperor’s lavish praise. The young son of some high official in purple robes who had performed it received a reward that outshone all the previous young men. He wore a restrained expression on his face, but his eyes glinted with satisfaction.
Li Gu found this sort of banquet exceedingly dull — even duller than the gatherings he attended with other young nobles. At least those were all young people, relaxed and informal, with some genuine character on display.
The young men at this banquet all performed like beautiful peacocks, straining to spread their feathers before the Emperor.
He was in the midst of his boredom when he suddenly heard someone call out “Li Eleventh!” and snapped his head up, eyes sharp as blades.
A young foreign man had risen from the seats across the hall. He was rather tall, but compared to the generally imposing build of the foreign peoples he was lean and fine-featured. His face was handsome enough, but his eyes were ferocious, and his face carried a dangerous, brooding quality.
“Li Eleventh, let’s have a match! Let your Emperor be the judge — let’s see which of us is more capable!” he called out.
The expressions of those on the Da Zhao side became very unpleasant.
Mere defeated enemy.
The calm that had rested on Li Gu’s bearing instantly sharpened into something keen. He planted one knee and was rising to stand — then Li Ming pressed him down.
Li Ming smiled and asked, “Prince Xia’erdan, have you grown so fond of Yunjing’s splendor that you mean to stay?”
This man was the one whose face had caused Xie Yuzhang to stiffen and go cold in that moment — Xie Yuzhang’s second husband during her time in captivity beyond the frontier: the nineteenth prince of Ashina Khan, Xia’erdan.
Xia’erdan’s mother had been a lowly slave woman. With no powerful maternal clan to back him, he had the shallowest roots among the princes. Bullied by his elder brothers throughout childhood for his origins, and then, as he grew older and his valor in battle won him their father Khan’s frequent praise, harassed and marginalized by those same brothers out of jealousy — all of it had shaped him into a brooding, vicious nature.
He was described by those around him as a hungry wolf in the royal tent.