Chapter 41: The Golden Invitation and the Old Image
The morning light from the courtyard had just filtered through the window lattice. Xiaoyanzi was squatting by the coal stove, helping Liuhong roast chestnuts. Her fingertips were burned, and she kept shrinking back. The cuffs of her ginger-colored jacket were stained with charcoal ash. Suddenly, the sound of carriage wheels could be heard at the courtyard gate. She looked out and saw the Fang family's housekeeper hurried in, holding a note wrapped in red silk, his face solemn.
"Miss, this is an invitation from the palace." The housekeeper handed over the invitation. The red silk was embroidered with auspicious clouds in gold thread, and the corners were embossed with delicate patterns. "The people from the Imperial Household Department said that the emperor is holding an autumn banquet in the Summer Palace and invites you, the master, and the young master to attend."
Xiaoyanzi's fingertips tightened around the post, the coolness of the red silk seeping through the fabric, reminding her of the dark blue brick walls of her past life. She looked down at the chestnuts crackling in the oven, the crackling sound reminiscent of the pendulum clock in the Hall of Mental Cultivation in her memory. Her heart tightened inexplicably, "Can I not go?"
"How can this be?" Xiao Jian had stood behind him without him noticing, his blue cotton robe stained with morning dew. He took the invitation and flipped through it, frowning slightly. "This is a formal invitation from the Ministry of Rites. Dad just received recognition from the Hanlin Academy, so I'm afraid I can't refuse this banquet." He glanced at Xiao Yanzi's white fingertips and softened his voice. "With Dad and I here, everything will be fine."
Liu Hong came out with freshly steamed multi-grain cakes. Seeing this, she placed the cakes on the stone table and quietly tugged at Xiaoyanzi's sleeves: "Are there a lot of delicious food at the banquet in the palace? Don't forget to tell us about it when you go." The cuffs of her moon-white cloth coat were frayed, but her eyes were full of curiosity, and she didn't notice Xiaoyanzi's back suddenly stiffened.
Xiaoyanzi forced a smile and peeled open a roasted chestnut, the golden flesh steaming. "I'm sure there'll be something delicious. Then I'll..." Before she could finish her words, her throat suddenly tightened. The flashing swords and sabers of the palace banquet in her past life, the cold words of the crowd, came flooding back like a tide. She quickly lowered her head, pretending to peel chestnuts to hide the panic in her eyes.
When I returned to the Fang residence, the main hall was filled with the faint scent of ink. Fang Zhihang, wearing a navy blue brocade robe, was adjusting his jade belt in front of a bronze mirror. Seeing Xiaoyanzi enter, he gently waved, "Come here, Ci'er. Take a look at this pomegranate-red jacket. Your mother had it specially made for you. It'll go perfectly with your pearl headband."
Madam Fang came over, holding a red gold and kingfisher hairpin, the pearls on her temples swaying gently with her movements. She tucked the hairpin into Xiaoyanzi's hair, her fingertips gently brushing her temples. "Why are you so pale, child? Are you tired from the work in the yard?" She held up a bronze mirror for Xiaoyanzi to look at. The girl in the mirror had lively eyebrows and eyes, but there was a subtle nervousness hidden in her eyes. "Don't be afraid at the banquet, just follow your father and brother."
Xiaoyanzi looked at herself in the mirror. Her pomegranate-red jacket accentuated her snowy white skin, and the emerald feathers of her hairpin trembled gently in the morning light. This splendid attire made her feel uncomfortable, preferring the lighter, more comfortable shorts of the courtyard. She instinctively touched her waist. It was where the jade pendant with the word "Yi" (righteousness) from their sworn brotherhood should have hung. She had forgotten to wear it when she changed this morning, and she felt even more empty inside.
"Mother, are there a lot of rules in the palace?" She fiddled with the tassels on her hairpin, her voice trembling. "What if...what if I say the wrong thing?"
Xiao Jian came in, holding a copy of "A Collection of Palace Etiquette," his long, dark blue gown neatly tied at the collar. "I borrowed this from a colleague at the Ministry of Rites. Take a look and just memorize the basics. The Emperor may be a stern figure, but he's been very lenient with scholars lately and won't be harsh." He handed the book to Xiao Yanzi, his fingertips gently tapping on the words "Autumn Hunting Banquet." "I heard the banquet will be held on a painted boat on the shores of Kunming Lake, focusing on poetry gatherings, so there won't be too many formalities."
But Xiaoyanzi couldn't let go. She flipped open the etiquette book, and the words "kneeling ceremony" and "response speech" felt like pebbles, pricking her eyes. The cold touch of kneeling before the Hall of Supreme Harmony in her past life, the image of Rong Mama pointing at her nose and scolding her, chilled her fingertips, and even the pages of the book trembled slightly.
On the day of the banquet, as the carriage entered the Summer Palace, Xiaoyanzi lifted a corner of the curtain and glimpsed the vermilion palace walls winding into the distance. The glazed tiles gleamed golden in the autumn sun, like a dormant golden dragon. Willow trees on the shore drooped with green ribbons, and pleasure boats filled the lake. The sound of stringed instruments drifted on the wind, reminding her of her past life, when she was imprisoned in Shufangzhai. Within the prosperity lay an invisible prison.
"Don't be afraid." Xiao Jian held her slightly cold hand, and the warmth of his palm came through his sleeves. "Follow me, don't wander around." He helped her tidy up her hair that was messed up by the wind, and the green feathers on her hairpin gently brushed across her cheek, bringing a slight itch.
The pleasure boat was already packed with guests. Officials, dressed in their various official robes, gathered in groups of three or four, reciting poems and composing couplets. The ladies gathered in the warm room on the east side, their hair jewels swaying gently with their laughter. Fang Zhihang had barely exchanged a few pleasantries when he was invited by several senior officials to admire paintings. Xiao Jian escorted Xiao Yanzi to the warm room, his eyes warily scanning the surroundings.
Xiaoyanzi clutched the handkerchief in her sleeve pocket, the corners wrinkled from being pinched. She lowered her head, trying to minimize her presence. Her pomegranate-red jacket stood out against the plain clothes, drawing the glances of several other ladies. Suddenly, she tripped on the carpet, stumbling forward and bumping into a palace maid carrying a tea tray.
"Be careful!" the maid screamed, spilling the tea, most of it splashing onto Xiaoyanzi's jacket, leaving dark stains. The surroundings instantly fell silent, and several eyes darted over, filled with curiosity and scrutiny.
Xiaoyanzi's face turned red, and she hurried to help the palace maid: "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it..." Before she finished speaking, she heard a low voice asking from above her head, with unquestionable majesty.
"What's going on?"
She looked up suddenly, meeting a pair of deep eyes. The man wore a bright yellow dragon robe, a bright yellow jade belt around his waist, and his dark hair held back with a red gold crown. His face was handsome yet exuded the majesty of an emperor. Sunlight filtered through the window of the pleasure boat, falling on his face, the silver strands of his temples particularly clear in the light. Those eyes stared at her intently, searchingly, with... a hint of an indescribable complex emotion.
It was Qianlong.
Xiaoyanzi's heart felt like it was being gripped by an invisible hand. The fear and grievances of her past life suddenly surged up, making it almost impossible for her to breathe. She subconsciously took a half step back, her knees weakening slightly, and she almost fell again. Fortunately, Xiao Jian caught her arm in time.
"Your Majesty, please forgive me. I accidentally bumped into a palace maid." Xiao Jian stepped forward, protecting Xiao Yanzi behind him. He bowed slightly and said in a steady voice, "We will go downstairs and change clothes now to avoid offending His Majesty."
Qianlong's gaze never left Xiaoyanzi, resting on her reddened eyes and tightly pursed lips. Her expression, her subtle movements, were reminiscent of the girl in his memory, always getting into trouble but with a clear gaze. His Adam's apple moved slightly, his fingertips unconsciously stroking the jade pendant at his waist, his voice surprisingly softer than before: "It's nothing, it was just some spilled tea."
His gaze paused on Xiaoyanzi's soaked jacket, then swept across the jade-inlaid hairpin in her hair. Suddenly, he said to Eunuch Su behind him, "Send someone to fetch a spare palace dress. Don't let Miss Fang catch a cold."
Xiaoyanzi froze, her nails digging deep into her palms. She could feel that gaze fixed on her, like a hot iron, burning her to the bone. She lowered her head, her long lashes shading the turbulent waves beneath her eyes. All she could hear was her own frantic heartbeat, mingling with the distant music of stringed instruments, echoing with fear in the magnificent pleasure boat.
Xiao Jian held her hand with a little force and whispered, "Why don't you thank the emperor for his grace?"
Xiaoyanzi bit her lower lip and said in a voice as thin as a mosquito: "Thank... Thank you, Your Majesty." She didn't dare to look up again. She just wanted to escape immediately from these eyes that seemed to see through everything, and escape from the palace walls that gave her nightmares.
Qianlong watched her tense figure until she disappeared around the corner of the pleasure boat, then he slowly withdrew his gaze. The jade pendant on his fingertips remained warm, but his heart was like a lake where a stone had been dropped, rippling in circles. It was her, truly her. He gazed at the shimmering water outside the window, a subtle melancholy flickering in his eyes, along with a touch of lost warmth now restored.
In this life, he will never let her suffer again.
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