Chapter Seventy: Is This a Feast at Hongmen?

The moon rose slowly, its gentle light spilling softly over the austere palace courtyard, bathing the gardens in a silvery radiance. In the main hall, a broad chamber was furnished with a table laden with delicate vegetarian dishes. Beneath the table, a large black velvet rug was spread for those dining to kneel upon.

Outside in the corridor, Yundao led the way, stooping respectfully, followed by five or six attendants clustered behind him. He walked calmly at the center, his slender eyelids cast toward the distant scenery. The night wind stirred ceaselessly, rustling the bamboo grove beyond, swaying their slender stalks in the breeze.

He entered the brightly lit main hall, clad in a black robe with a jade sash, his dark eyes shining with a faint mysterious glimmer. His long black hair was tied with a white ribbon, imparting an air of casual elegance and unfettered grace.

He strolled in leisurely, noting the presence of the Empress Dowager and a certain noble concubine, along with only two serving maids attending the meal.

His lips curled in a faint, ambiguous smile—neither fully amused nor entirely indifferent.

“Your son greets Mother,” he said, bowing with a gesture both nonchalant and graceful.

“I pay my respects to Your Majesty,” the Jade Concubine rose as he entered, dressed in a dignified yet alluring violet gown, its color regal and seductive—quite different from her usual image.

She lowered her gaze, unable to quell her nervousness and urgency. Though it was not their first meeting, it was the first time they dined together in such intimacy. She knew he harbored no affection for her, yet she could not help but dress herself with utmost care, eschewing jewels in favor of presenting her best self.

“Wuqing, you’re here at last. Sit down quickly; Mother has waited for you a long time,” the Empress Dowager beckoned, her tone unmistakably warm and loving.

“Thank you, Mother.” Ji Wuqing smiled, and after settling himself, waved to the Jade Concubine.

The Jade Concubine took her seat silently, feeling a subtle pang of disappointment. He still had not truly looked at her.

“Venturing from the palace to inspect the hardships of the people must have been taxing. I have worried greatly, fearing you might not adapt well outside and that you lacked a devoted companion to care for you,” the Empress Dowager observed him closely, her gaze overflowing with maternal affection.

She began, but Ji Wuqing did not respond as expected. “Mother, your son is no longer a child and needs no one’s care. I can look after myself,” he replied, puzzled and earnest.

“That’s not so; in my eyes, you will always be a child who never grows up,” said the Empress Dowager. “Besides, you are no longer young; it’s time you had heirs of your own. Don’t spend all your days worrying about state affairs, forgetting your personal matters. Remember, the royal bloodline is a matter of national importance.”

“In this, your son has indeed erred and caused you worry,” Ji Wuqing answered lightly.

He possessed striking brows—not sharp and cold like sword brows, nor refined like willow leaves, but relaxed and gentle as drifting clouds. His ambiguous smile left his true intentions inscrutable.

“Since we are speaking of it, I must nag a bit. Is the Queen’s illness improved? I haven’t seen her lately and don’t know her condition,” the Empress Dowager continued, her expression gentle and benevolent.

She had always appeared approachable, her simple and warm attire dispelling any notion of imperial aloofness.

“Mother need not worry; Xue’er’s health is gradually improving, and with a little more care, she will recover fully,” he replied vaguely, offering no definitive answer. Then he added, “Mother is always so concerned for your son, making you worry. That is surely my fault.”

“Wuqing, are you blaming Mother for meddling too much?” the Empress Dowager asked, sounding a little disappointed and anxious.

“Your words are too much for me, Mother,” Ji Wuqing laughed softly, his expression lively—not that of a sovereign, but of a child playfully bantering with his mother.

“That’s good. I cannot neglect your need for heirs; after all, you are already twenty. And you rarely show intimacy with the concubines, which naturally causes concern,” she sighed. “Your worries are well understood by your son, Mother, but when will supper begin? Do you mean for your son to listen to your admonitions on an empty stomach?” he deliberately shifted the topic, not with bluntness but with a lively wink, displaying a strange vitality.

Seeing him thus, the Empress Dowager could only instruct the servants to bring the dishes, filling the table with vegetarian fare as the three dined with their own thoughts.

There were scallion tofu, stir-fried mustard greens, chilled bean sprouts, sweet lotus slices, hibiscus egg custard, and winter melon soup—simple, crisp dishes that whetted the appetite, though their flavor was as mild as their appearance.

Though not especially delectable, they lived up to the reputation of vegetarian cuisine.

The meal passed in silence, the three eating slowly. The Jade Concubine elegantly served dishes to the Empress Dowager and Ji Wuqing, earning the title of “virtuous.”

At last, the meal ended, and the servants swiftly cleared the bowls, quickly bringing fruit, pastries, and tea.

“It must have been hard for you, eating such a bland meal,” the Empress Dowager apologized.

“It’s nothing. It reminds me of the fare at Xue’er’s palace—just as light. Still, Mother, bland food is not always beneficial to health, so please take care of yourself,” he said, mentioning “Xue’er” with unmistakable tenderness, the smile between his brows capable of captivating all.

The Jade Concubine’s expression faltered. She had sat opposite him, never receiving a glance or question, while the Queen, recuperating in Anxue Palace, remained the focus of his concern.

“Mother’s invitation tonight is not merely for supper, but also for your affairs,” the Empress Dowager, noticing the Jade Concubine’s expression, continued, “Since the Queen has not yet recovered, the responsibility of tending to you falls to the Jade Concubine. Moreover, you should not disturb the Queen’s rest; patients need peace, and your affection for her is well understood.”

“Mother, you mean…” Ji Wuqing asked in confusion, as if uncertain of her intentions.

“Tonight, you will stay in Yuyong Palace. Is that clear enough?” the Empress Dowager declared, making her meaning plain.

Ji Wuqing raised his brows in silent surprise, while the Jade Concubine was left embarrassed by the blunt announcement. When had she needed the Empress Dowager as a mediator to earn a glance or favor from the King?

“Is this your wish?” He finally turned to look at the Jade Concubine, seeing her blush deeply, her expression one of shyness and awkwardness.

“I…” The Jade Concubine struggled to reply—though it was not precisely her wish, it was indeed her desire.

“Mother, this is not quite right. Why make the Jade Concubine the scapegoat? See how you’ve frightened a perfectly good person,” Ji Wuqing said, turning to the Empress Dowager, both rescuing the Jade Concubine and deftly evading the matter.

“Wuqing…” The Empress Dowager sighed, surprised at his evasion. She turned to the Jade Concubine, “Xiao’er, what do you say?”

“Your subject is naturally willing to serve the King…”

“Empress Dowager, Your Majesty, the Queen has arrived,” Yundao the eunuch announced at an inopportune moment. At the mention of the Queen, Ji Wuqing rose immediately, heading out without a backward glance.

The Jade Concubine watched his retreating figure, her gaze filled with disappointment, loneliness, and a hint of grievance.

She was indeed willing to share his burdens.

Yet he had never given her the chance.

She watched as he tenderly took the young woman’s hand, his brows soft with rare affection and love, his smile deepening. Though the girl was oblivious—unable to see his tenderness—he was wholly devoted.

It had been long since she’d seen the Queen; she seemed unchanged, her features pure and delicate, a quiet beauty that never wore thin. Her entire bearing remained calm and understated—or perhaps warmer, with a newfound glow.

She was but a girl of eighteen, yet her presence seemed innate, overpowering even those around her.

The Jade Concubine stared, forgetting to rise or pay her respects.

Only when Xuexue’s greeting to the Empress Dowager rang in her ears did she recover, swiftly standing, “Forgive me, Your Majesty—I lost myself for a moment. I beg your pardon.”

“It’s Jade Concubine. No matter, it’s nothing serious,” Xuexue replied coolly, her tone indifferent yet devoid of displeasure or disdain.

It seemed the Queen was always like this—distant to everyone, yet never provoking dislike.

“The Queen looks much improved,” the Empress Dowager observed, studying her carefully. “I never knew what illness you suffered; I dared not disturb you.”

Taken seriously, these words implied fault on the Queen’s part.

“Mother, it was your son’s mistake for causing you worry,” Xuexue replied vaguely, offering no specifics.

“Sit down, now. Though your complexion is still pale, your health seems much better. Why did you only come today to visit me in Huizhai?”