A long, drawn-out announcement came from outside the hall:
"His Majesty has arrived! The Imperial Concubine has arrived!"
The clamor in the hall instantly fell silent, and the sounds of string and wind instruments abruptly ceased.
All eyes turned to the palace gate, and officials and relatives rose and stood respectfully with their heads bowed.
Li Yuheng was pondering the specific procedures for transforming Xifeng Longpao into women's clothing when he heard the sound. He temporarily suppressed this tempting idea and looked towards the entrance with Shubai.
Emperor Dajing, dressed in a bright yellow dragon robe, slowly entered, surrounded by a group of palace attendants.
He is nearly fifty years old, but his face still faintly shows the handsome features of his youth.
However, the swelling in his eyes and the lingering weariness between his brows added a touch of dejection to his imperial majesty.
Standing close to him, almost side by side, was none other than Consort Tan, the most favored concubine in the harem—Tan Wantang.
She was also the birth mother of the third prince, Jinghong.
Since the early death of Empress Yuan, the position of Empress had been vacant for many years. As a Noble Consort, she ruled the six palaces and enjoyed unparalleled prestige.
Today she wore a crimson palace dress adorned with golden phoenixes and phoenixes, her hair piled high, and golden hairpins shimmering in the candlelight.
That face was strikingly beautiful, with slightly upturned phoenix eyes, luscious lips, and an overall air of elegance that was both graceful and languidly nonchalant.
She walked with ease, her eyes glancing casually towards the west wind.
Li Yuheng suddenly turned his head, his gaze quickly sweeping back and forth between the Emperor, Tan Wantang, and Xifeng.
He stared at the family of three for a long time, then suddenly looked away with feigned seriousness and turned to look at Shu Bai.
"Shu Bai, do you understand?"
"...I don't really want to understand."
No, you do.
"No, no, no, I don't want to."
Li Yuheng leaned close to Shu Bai's ear and said, "Shu Bai, let's play the 'Father is getting old' scenario tonight."
Shu Bai: "...I knew it."
"I'll play the ambitious prince who's plotting to usurp the throne!" Li Yuheng rubbed his hands excitedly. "And you, you'll play the favored concubine I forcibly take, the kind who'd rather die than submit!"
Shu Bai glanced at him sideways: "Why should I play the one who is forcibly taken?"
"Because you look like you'd rather die than submit! Look at your cold, aloof appearance, you're perfect for being locked in a bedchamber every day saying, 'Even if you get my body, you'll never get my heart!'"
"..." Shu Bai resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "And what about you?"
"Of course I'm that gloomy and obsessive prince! I come to torment you every night, forcing you to submit... hehe."
Shu Bai looked at Li Yuheng's uncontrollable silly grin and said, "You don't look like a sinister and obsessive person, but rather like a big rat trying to steal lamp oil."
Li Yuheng's face immediately fell, and she rushed over to hug his neck: "No, no, I want to act this out! Just cooperate!"
He was clinging to Shu Bai, humming and grinding away at the script, when shouts of "Long live the Emperor!" erupted from inside the hall.
The emperor took his seat, his gaze sweeping across the hall, pausing briefly at the seats of the Prince of Zhenbei's residence. With a deliberately gentle expression, he raised his hand to signal the officials to rise.
"No need for formalities at today's family banquet." His voice was slightly hoarse as he turned his gaze to Consort Tan beside him, speaking affectionately, "Wantang, why hasn't Hong'er arrived yet? This child is getting lazier and lazier."
Tan Wantang picked up the jade pot and gracefully poured wine for the emperor.
She raised an eyebrow slightly, and as she glanced at the emperor, a fleeting, almost imperceptible, look of disgust flashed across the depths of her eyes. Yet, a radiant smile bloomed on her face, and her voice was soft and sweet:
"Your Majesty, please don't be offended. Hong'er is probably preoccupied with something. As you know, he's been tinkering with all sorts of strange and unusual things lately, and I can't keep up with him."
She claimed not to know, but only she knew that her good son, Jinghong, was being closely watched by the "eyes" she had sent out.
It's absurd, really. She's only been in this world for a few days, and her status as a Noble Consort was obtained by drawing lots in the Underworld.
Who told her to have such "good luck"? She drew a top-tier harem dungeon on her first try.
Tsk, why isn't old Deng dead yet?
Xi Feng sat on the Crown Prince's seat, his eyes slowly sweeping across the throne.
He saw the emperor whispering something in Consort Tan's ear. Consort Tan had a standard smile on her lips, but in her heart she was cursing wildly.
As the emperor spoke, his cloudy eyes kept glancing at Consort Tan's collar.
Xifeng picked up his wine glass expressionlessly.
He rose, walked steadily to the throne, bowed respectfully, and his eyes held just the right amount of reverence:
Your son respectfully wishes Your Majesty a long life and good health.
His voice was steady and his tone was moderate, perfectly befitting the demeanor of a crown prince.
The emperor looked at his eldest son, a barely perceptible hint of satisfaction flashing in his eyes.
Although the Crown Prince was a bit cold-hearted, he was prudent in his actions and never made a mistake.
"My son is very kind." The emperor nodded, his tone gentle. "Rise."
Xi Feng thanked the emperor and rose, his gaze sweeping over Tan Wantang before returning to the emperor, his tone carrying just the right amount of concern:
"My third brother has not yet arrived. Is he unwell? Today is Father's birthday. He is always filial and should not be late."
Upon hearing this, the emperor frowned slightly.
As soon as Xifeng finished speaking, a series of hurried footsteps came from outside the hall.
The Third Prince Jinghong practically ran in, his hair ornament slightly askew and sweat beading on his forehead.
"Your Majesty, I am late! Please forgive me!" He knelt down with a thud, his breath uneven.
Seeing his disheveled appearance, the emperor's brows, which had just furrowed at the crown prince's words, tightened even more, and his tone softened: "What's the matter that you're in such a hurry?"
Jinghong looked up, forcing a fawning smile: "Your subject... Your subject was preparing a birthday gift for Your Majesty and forgot the time for a moment."
His eyes flickered as he quickly glanced at Tan Wantang.
Tan Wantang held her wine glass, her smile unchanged, but inwardly she sneered.
Preparing a birthday gift?
He must have gotten carried away in some soul-refining chamber again.
Rubbish.
Fortunately, it's only been a couple of days.
Jinghong knelt on the ground, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead and landing on the polished gold bricks.
He expected his mother to make a few lighthearted excuses for him, as she always did, saying things like "Hong'er is just being filial," which would appease his father.
But today, Consort Tan, sitting beside the throne, simply sipped her wine leisurely, not even glancing at him.
Her beautiful profile under the palace lanterns was breathtakingly beautiful, yet chillingly cold.
A chill mixed with resentment suddenly surged into Jing Hong's heart.
Mother...why won't she help me?!
Does even she think I, her son, am inferior to the Crown Prince?!
The emperor took in his third son's panic and the concubine's indifference, and the joy he felt for his birthday faded somewhat.
He was not a muddle-headed ruler; he was not unaware of the Third Prince's recent underhanded actions and the overly close ties between the Tan and Liu families.
However, due to his favor towards the imperial concubine and the need to maintain the balance of power in the court, he temporarily turned a blind eye.
But today, at this imperial banquet for the Emperor's birthday, the third prince has behaved so improperly, and the Imperial Concubine has shown such an attitude...
The emperor's gaze involuntarily shifted to the composed Crown Prince Jingchen sitting below him.
Chen'er is still the most worry-free.
He rubbed his temples wearily: "It's understandable since it's for preparing a birthday gift. Get up and take your seat. This is a one-time exception."
Jing Hong felt as if he had been granted a pardon. He hurriedly kowtowed to express his gratitude and slunk away to his seat. As he passed the Crown Prince's seat, he glared at Xi Feng with a sinister look.
The west wind sat motionless, not even lifting its eyelids.
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