The hall was very quiet.
The first thing I did upon sitting down was not to look at the people, but at the table. Dishes were arranged in rows; plates touched plates, bowls stacked upon bowls. There were steamed dishes, stews, and thinly sliced meats arranged like flowers. In the center of the large platter lay a fish, drizzled with sauce, glistening with oil, accompanied by a small dish of ginger vinegar. I stared at the fish for two seconds, and my stomach growled. The sound wasn't loud, but in this quiet hall, I suspected I wasn't the only one who heard it.
I pretended nothing happened and lowered my head to adjust my cuffs.
The people around me were familiar faces—Zhu Zhanji on my left, an empty seat on my right, the Crown Princess opposite me, followed by the Prince of Han and the Third Prince. The chair at the head of the table remained empty. Zhu Di had not arrived yet, so no one in the hall spoke much; occasional low whispers were kept very quiet, as if afraid to disturb something. Sitting among this group, I felt out of place. My clothes were newly made—a lotus-purple skirt with orchid embroidery on the cuffs, prepared in advance by Ruolan: "Miss must meet people upon returning to the capital." My hair was also done up, adorned with a silver hairpin that Ruolan had insisted on pinning in. Yet, sitting among these people, I still felt like someone who had walked into the wrong door.
I whispered to the person beside me, "Can I eat whatever I want?"
The person paused. It was Eunuch Li, standing behind Zhu Zhanji, his expression hard to describe. He opened his mouth but couldn't quite respond to that.
"In that case, I'll eat," I said. Just as I moved my chopsticks, the tips hadn't even touched the fish skin—
"I hear you had quite some insights in the military?"
My hand froze. Zhu Gaoxu sat opposite me, holding a wine cup, looking directly at me. His tone was casual, as if asking about the weather. But that gaze was not casual—it swept from top to bottom, sizing me up like an object to determine if I was worth his time. The hall grew even quieter. The Crown Princess set down her tea bowl; the Third Prince raised his eyelids; several imperial clansmen at the side table exchanged bewildered glances.
I sighed inwardly.Here we go again. I looked up, very sincere. "I wouldn't dare claim 'insights'; I just spoke a few extra words."
"What did you say?"
I thought for a moment. I couldn't say, "I said fewer people should die"—that would be seeking death in front of him. I couldn't say, "I said nothing"—that would be lying to Zhu Di. So I would tell the truth, but only half of it.
"I just said... it would be better if fewer people died."
The air instantly went silent. So silent I could hear the sound of my chopsticks resting on the edge of the plate—a lightclink, but in this hall, it felt like throwing a stone into a pond. Zhu Gaoxu looked at me, the corner of his mouth twitching. It wasn't a smile; it was an expression that suggested he thought I was playing dumb in front of him.
"Where is there war without death?"
I nodded. "There is."
The entire room froze. Several clansmen exchanged glances; one lifted his tea cup to his lips and forgot to drink.
I added, "Fight a little less."
"..." Zhu Gaoxu set down his wine cup. He didn't slam it, but the force with which he placed it down was slightly heavier than normal. The base knocked against the table with a dull thud. No one in the hall spoke. I felt like I was about to be done for again. Not the kind of "done for" where a blade is held to your throat on the battlefield, but the kind where—sitting among a group of people, when everyone is thinking "Can this be said?"—you feel the air thinning out.
Just then, the person beside me spoke.
"What she says is not without reason." Zhu Zhanji's voice was not loud, his tone level, as if stating something that required no discussion. He didn't look at me; he lifted his tea bowl, took a sip, and set it down. Just like every time.
The atmosphere in the hall relaxed slightly. Zhu Gaoxu glanced at him, didn't respond, picked up the wine cup he had just set down, and took a drink. The Third Prince withdrew his gaze and continued looking at his own tea bowl. I instantly exhaled in relief. The chopsticks clenched in my hand loosened; my knuckles felt a bit stiff.
A light sound came from the head of the table. Zhu Di had arrived. No one announced him; he walked in himself, his pace unhurried. He had changed from dragon robes into casual attire, looking more relaxed than he had in the military camp, yet that imposing pressure remained. Everyone in the hall stood up in unison; I followed suit. He walked to the head seat and sat down, scanning the people at the table. His gaze paused on my face for an instant—then moved away.
"Everyone sit."
We all took our seats. I sat down too, this time gripping my chopsticks tightly, not making the first move.
Zhu Di lifted his wine cup and spoke a few formal words—the Northern Expedition was arduous, the generals had worked hard, today's family banquet need not be bound by strict etiquette. I understood the words but not the meaning. It roughly meant:We are back, let's eat, don't be too nervous. But after he said "need not be bound by strict etiquette," the people in the hall became even more formal. Zhu Gaoxu sat upright; the Third Prince sat upright; the Crown Princess sat upright. Only Zhu Zhanji, as usual, leisurely poured himself a cup of tea.
I looked down at the fish. Glistening with oil, drizzled with sauce, with ginger vinegar beside it. It must be cold by now.
"You certainly dare to speak," Zhu Di suddenly said.
I looked up. He was looking at me—not scrutinizing, but with the same gaze as when he said "somewhat interesting" in the military tent. I paused, then answered honestly, "I only dare to speak now."
He looked at me, seeming even more interested. "You dare to speak now; when do you not dare?"
I thought about it. "I didn't dare to speak during the battle." This was the truth. In the Northern Desert, standing on the sand below that high ground, when the blade chopped down from above my head, I said nothing. Not because I didn't want to, but because there was no time. He nodded, didn't press further, lifted his wine cup for a sip, and then began speaking with Zhu Gaoxu.
I lowered my head and continued eating. The fish was indeed cold; the flesh had tightened slightly, but the flavor of the sauce remained. I picked up a piece, put it in my mouth, and chewed slowly. Beside me, the Crown Princess said softly, "Miss has worked hard in the military."
I looked up. She was looking at me, her tone gentle, her smile faint, just like at the Eastern Palace family banquet. But beneath that smile, there was an added layer. Not probing, but—assessing. Judging what kind of person I was.
"It was alright, just a bit cold," I said.
She paused. She probably hadn't expected me to say "cold." In the palace, on such occasions, when someone asks "Have you worked hard?", you should say "Not at all," or "It was my duty," or "Thanks to the Emperor's great fortune." No one would say "cold." But I was indeed cold. The wind of the Northern Desert was still in my bones; since returning these past few days, my hands and feet were cold every night, taking a long time to warm up. I was speaking the truth.
"It's much warmer now," I added.
She looked at me, paused, and then smiled. Not the faint, ceremonial smile from before, but a real smile; the corners of her eyes crinkled, as if she had understood something.
"That is good," she said.
The hall gradually became lively. Zhu Gaoxu began speaking with those beside him, his voice growing louder; the Third Prince occasionally interjected, his tone as flat as usual. Several accompanying clansmen relaxed; some started drinking, others laughing. The atmosphere loosened, like a pot of water warming up from ice-cold to tepid. I sat there, eating through the dishes on my plate one by one. The steamed dishes were soft and tender, the stews flavorful, and the thinly sliced braised beef arranged like flowers was perfect with vinegar. By the time I reached the third dish, Zhu Zhanji pushed a plate of osmanthus cake toward me. I looked up at him; he wasn't looking at me, engaged in conversation with the person beside him. But that plate of osmanthus cake was the kind I often ate in the Eastern Palace.
I took a piece. It was still warm.
The sounds in the hall grew increasingly mixed and chaotic. Some spoke of the Northern Expedition, some of court affairs, some of things I didn't understand. Those words drifted past my ears; not a single word entered my brain. I was only thinking about one thing: When she said "That is good," did she truly feel "that is good," or was she thinking of something else? I couldn't figure it out. But as I lowered my head to eat the osmanthus cake, I saw the Crown Princess looking at Zhu Zhanji. Just for an instant, then she quickly looked away.
Outside the hall, it was already dark. Inside, lights burned bright, illuminating everyone's faces. Zhu Di sat at the head, speaking with Zhu Gaoxu, a smile on his lips. The Third Prince drank tea quietly, occasionally glancing up. The Crown Princess spoke with those beside her, her voice very light. Zhu Zhanji sat beside me, not looking at me, but the osmanthus cakes on the plate decreased by one, then by another. They were taken by me.
I lowered my head and silently picked up food. Only one sentence remained in my heart:It's enough to be alive.
The liveliness in the hall continued. I sat in the corner, eating osmanthus cake, listening to words I didn't understand. No one asked me questions anymore. No one paid attention to me anymore. I finished the food on my plate, finished the osmanthus cakes, then put down my chopsticks and hid my hands under the table. My fingers were no longer cold.
(End of Chapter Twenty)