The once bustling grand hall fell abruptly silent. Regardless of what they had been doing, everyone knelt in reverence. Only the officials seated on the second tier and the palace guards were permitted to kneel on one knee; all others prostrated themselves on the floor. Zhuo Qing, caught unprepared, was pulled down into a half-kneel by Mo Bai.
Amid the sea of kneeling figures, the only one left standing was the dazed Yan Ruxuan. Lou Xiyan's eyes dimmed as she pulled Yan Ruxuan to her side. Just then, the Emperor and Empress appeared at the entrance of the hall…
"Long live His Majesty, long live, long live!"
Thunderous cries echoed throughout the hall as the Emperor and Empress stepped inside. Zhuo Qing lifted her head slightly, squinting toward the sound.
Draped in a ceremonial robe of radiant yellow silk, Yan Hongtian wore a white jade belt at his waist and a crown of black gold and jade upon his head. His cold, piercing gaze was as intimidating as ever. Clad in such regalia, he was truly awe-inspiring—so much so that none dared to look directly at him. Indeed, aside from Zhuo Qing's subtle glance, no one else even dared raise their eyes.
The Empress appeared quite young, perhaps just past twenty. Her hair was coiled into an elegant bun adorned with golden pins and jade ornaments. She wore a flowing gown of deep red embroidered with blooming peonies, its sweeping hem lending her an air of poised nobility. Yet, despite her lofty status, she could only walk slightly behind the Emperor—never side by side.
Zhuo Qing sighed inwardly. She finally understood why the emperors of old so easily regarded themselves as Sons of Heaven, and why many eventually became tyrants. When all beneath heaven grovel at your feet, how many can still remember who they truly are?
Yan Ruxuan stared blankly at her hand, her face burning as if aflame, her heart pounding like a drum. The clamor around her faded into silence; all she could hear was the frantic thundering of her own heartbeat.
Just moments ago, he had actually taken her hand of his own accord. Though it had lasted but a fleeting instant, she had felt the gentle pressure of his cool fingertips around her wrist.
She lifted her eyes slightly, gazing upon his fair, handsome profile. Yan Ruxuan knew, no matter how much despair and heartache he caused her, she could never let him go. Long ago—so long ago—her heart and her eyes had ceased to hold any other man.
With his keen eyes, Su Linghan easily recognized the palace maid as none other than Princess Chaoyun. A flicker of disgust flashed through his frosty gaze. Women truly were troublesome creatures, ruled by sentiment, blind to time and circumstance.
As all entertained their private thoughts, Yan Hongtian ascended the highest tier and seated himself on the dragon throne. The Empress took her place to his right.
Raising his hands evenly, Yan Hongtian declared in a resonant voice, "All rise."
"Thank you, Your Majesty," came the unified and rehearsed response. The officials returned to their seats in perfect order.
Finally able to straighten her knees, Zhuo Qing rubbed them with a wince. Mo Bai's sudden pull had likely bruised her. As she thought of this, Mo Bai's cold gaze fell upon her hands. Zhuo Qing pursed her lips and awkwardly stood upright.
"The envoys from Northern Qi request an audience!" the herald bellowed.
Three figures emerged slowly from the end of the golden carpet—two men and one woman—all adorned in splendid attire. The tall, slender man stood at the front, the sturdier man just behind, but it was the woman who drew Zhuo Qing's attention.
She was a striking beauty—perhaps not due to the delicacy of her features, but because of the bold, commanding aura she exuded. Her eyes were dark as lacquer, limpid as autumn waters, and every subtle glance seemed to draw one in.
"Blessings upon the Sovereign of Qiongyue." The trio knelt on one knee.
Yan Hongtian responded in a strong voice, "Rise, and be seated."
"Thank you, Sovereign."
The three were led to the three vacant seats beside Su Ling. The slender man offered Su Ling a polite salute. Su Ling, his face as cold as ever, merely nodded in return.
Despite Su Ling's rather curt manner, the man did not take offense and sat down with graceful ease.
Yan Hongtian's robust voice rang out again, "You've traveled far. First, partake in a taste of Qiongyue's finest aged incense wine. Serve the guests."
"Many thanks for Your Majesty's generous hospitality."
Three palace maids in blue approached, wine pitchers in hand. Kneeling by the tables, they began to pour the wine.
It seemed that whether in ancient or modern times, banquets never changed—always equally dull and tedious. The only difference was, in the past, she could at least sit, eat, and leave as she pleased. Now she had no choice but to stand.
Zhuo Qing yawned out of boredom. Her gaze swept across the hall—and then froze.
The maid pouring wine for the Northern Qi princess… had two visible scars on her right cheek. Just like… Qingling?
Zhuo Qing wasn't the only one who noticed. Lou Xiyan's eyes also flickered with surprise.
That must be Qingling. She and Feng'er were almost identical in stature and appearance, yet Feng'er's eyes shone with a proud brilliance, while this woman's gaze held only numb desolation and cold despair.
Why was she here? And why was she serving the Northern Qi princess?
Was this the Emperor's way of humiliating her?
Lou Xiyan stole a glance at Yan Hongtian and caught a hint of surprise in his eyes as well. Clearly, this was not his doing. Then the only one who could have arranged this… was the Empress.
The affairs of the inner palace were not for him to meddle in. With Qingfeng behind him remaining still, Lou Xiyan lowered his gaze in quiet observation.
Perhaps Zhuo Qing's stare was too intense, or perhaps it was a moment of strange synchronicity—but the maid suddenly lifted her head, her eyes locking with Zhuo Qing's.
Upon recognizing Zhuo Qing, the maid's eyes flew open wide, and her hand trembled so violently she nearly dropped the wine pitcher.
But instead of joy, Zhuo Qing felt a chill settle in her heart.
This woman—she had to be Qingling. But she was definitely not Gu Yun.
If she were Gu Yun, she wouldn't recognize Zhuo Qing's now unrecognizable face.
Nor would the ever-calm Gu Yun have displayed such overt emotion, exposing her thoughts so clearly.
Zhuo Qing looked away, disappointed. The maid, realizing her loss of composure, quickly lowered her head. But her trembling shoulders betrayed her inner turmoil.
The three guests downed their wine in a single gulp. The third prince of Northern Qi, Xu Xunsi, smiled respectfully and said, "What a fine wine indeed—fragrant, mellow, and smooth. Representing Northern Qi in this visit, I am awed by the grandeur of Qiongyue. We come with sincere admiration, and hope to convey our nation's respect and submission."
Yan Hongtian nodded slowly, as if fully aware of his intent. With cordial words, he replied, "Northern Qi and Qiongyue are neighboring states. Strengthening diplomatic ties is certainly a noble endeavor. Since you are already here, Prince, you may as well explore the wonders of our land—there are indeed many splendid sights to behold."
Yet Yan Hongtian deliberately sidestepped the overture for alliance. Xu Xunsi understood at once—the Sovereign was not eager to forge a pact.
Smiling, he followed the lead and replied, "We thank Your Majesty for the gracious offer. Qiongyue's vast lands and beautiful landscapes are indeed a feast for the eyes. As a gesture of goodwill, my seventh sister has prepared a water-sleeve dance to offer blessings upon Qiongyue's prosperity and to wish eternal friendship between our nations."
"Oh?"
So quickly resorting to beauty as a tool?
Yan Hongtian's cold gaze lifted slightly, and he let out a hearty laugh.
"I have long heard that the Seventh Princess's dancing is unmatched. Today, I shall gladly enjoy the performance for myself."