SEHE Chapter 112

Banquet

“Great Tao?” Tang Xizhui rested one hand on his elbow, the other supporting his chin, a contemplative look flickering through his eyes.

A dynasty that was still over two hundred years away from being established in the present?

“This son will go search the small nations around Great Xi’s northern borders again, perhaps I can find something,” Huo Cun said hastily.

“No need.” Tang Xizhui raised his hand and waved dismissively. “Small nations with small populations cannot nurture such flamboyant, unrestrained arrogance.”

“Then doesn’t Pei Daren’s background become a mystery?” Huo Cun frowned.

As someone under Tang Xizhui’s command, there were only tasks left incomplete, never matters that couldn’t be accomplished.

“Don’t worry about this matter.” Tang Xizhui already had a rough guess in his mind.

The person was still the same person, but the soul might not belong to anyone in this world.

Soul transmigration—this matter was truly extraordinary.

His Xiao Pei’er could always unearth surprises for people to discover.

“Invite the eminent monk from Dingguo Temple outside the city to visit the Chief Overseer’s mansion another day. Also, tell Old Daoist Yimiao that the plan has changed—tell him to take it easy and not kill the person so quickly.”

“Ah? Adoptive father, has some unexpected situation occurred?”

“Mm.” A trace of sweetness rose at the corners of Tang Xizhui’s mouth as he hooked his little finger around the ribbons hanging from both sides of Huo Cun’s ceremonial hat. “My child, what if Adoptive father helps you find a new master?”

Huo Cun’s heart jumped, and the smile on his face stiffened somewhat. “Not the Fifth Prince?”

“A thousand, ten thousand times better than Gu Wanchong.” He couldn’t help but boast.

He immediately thought of something, joy overflowing in his eyes as he breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed. “Is it Pei Daren? If that’s the case, Adoptive father, you can finally see the clouds part…”

Tang Xizhui’s gaze became like two sharp ice picks refracting dusty rays of light. Huo Cun suppressed the urge to retreat and bowed tremblingly.

“Watch your mouth, understand?”

“Yes, yes.” Huo Cun swallowed hard.

****

Pei Yanci hastily finished breakfast, then shut himself in the study and began drafting the memorial to be submitted to His Majesty tomorrow.

When yesterday’s court session ended, the Emperor hadn’t made a final decision. The evidence had long been laid out before him, yet he ordered both sides to submit additional memorials—this superfluous act was simply to find out what schemes the aristocratic families were plotting.

Pei Yanci had revealed the Crown Prince’s intention to exclude the aristocratic families this time, wanting to consolidate power and establish his authority himself. Internal discord within Minister Zheng’s faction was something His Majesty would be glad to see as well.

After finishing the memorial, he locked it in a drawer, left the study, and called for the coachman to prepare the carriage. He himself changed into a water-vine patterned ink-green robe with lacquered edges and broad sleeves of Su brocade, then carried gift boxes to the Princess’s mansion.

Last time at the Zheng mansion, Gu Yueqian had given him an invitation to attend a chrysanthemum viewing party. At that time, the weather had still been rather hot, but half a month had passed, the days grew cooler with each passing day, autumn had arrived, and it was precisely when chrysanthemums bloomed in their full glory.

He arrived close to noon, delivered the gifts, and followed the mansion’s servants past rows of tall pavilions and jade-white buildings until the view suddenly opened up before him.

Clear waves rippled on the lake, and because of the overcast sky, a thin mist had risen over the water’s surface, making it appear vast and misty. By the shore in front of the pavilion, chrysanthemums displayed a hundred forms and a thousand beauties, with handsome servants and beautiful maids weaving among them—quite pleasing to the eye.

Pei Yanci had originally thought this chrysanthemum viewing party would have mostly young ladies and madams, but looking at the situation, young talented gentlemen outnumbered the young ladies and madams by thirty percent or more.

There had long been rumors in court that Princess Zhangping frequently hosted grand banquets at her mansion under various pretexts, and quite a few people either received promotions or obtained positions at court not long after attending.

He wondered whether Gu Yueqian was expanding power for Zheng Qinglai, or recruiting talent for Gu Jiuqing.

“The servants in the mansion said you’d arrived. I searched for quite a while before finding you hiding away here.” Qi Lan’s voice came from not far away.

Pei Yanci sat alone in the pavilion, his thoughts interrupted. Hearing this, he looked over—the person had already quickly approached.

“Shouldn’t you as the host be attending to those distinguished guests more?”

“Don’t you count as a distinguished guest?” Qi Lan leaned against the pillar at the pavilion entrance. The dark hair atop his head was braided into several plaits close to his scalp, with the rest gathered into a ponytail at the back. As he leaned slightly to the side, the loose ends of his hair swept across his shoulder, part of it hanging over his chest.

“You and I are family—how could I count as a distinguished guest?”

“Then come out and help entertain the guests together.” Qi Lan said unceremoniously.

“Didn’t your mother consort hold this banquet to help you select your future wife?” Pei Yanci smiled. “If I steal your thunder, can you save face?”

“You already stole my thunder on the polo field—it’s too late to feel sorry about it now.” Qi Lan said irritably. “Come out, I’ll take you to meet Mother Consort.”

Pei Yanci had no choice but to get up and follow him, sighing involuntarily, “This is still my first time attending a banquet.”

“The Crown Prince clearly isn’t someone who likes excitement.” Qi Lan crossed his arms, walking half a step ahead. “What other ‘first times’ do you have?”

“Why do you care so much?”

Qi Lan began guessing on his own. “Have you ever attended school?”

“I have, naturally.” Pei Yanci’s original body had been a county magistrate’s son after all—attending school for a couple of years was normal.

“Do you have servants in your mansion?”

“Definitely.”

“Do you like me?”

Pei Yanci’s mouth opened slightly, his face full of bewilderment as he looked up.

Qi Lan stopped walking and turned sideways to look at him, his lazy gaze slightly narrowed, the corners of his mouth lifting in a casual smile—as if joking, yet seemingly carrying two parts seriousness.

“How could you have such an idea?”

“Because I like you.”

Pei Yanci burst out laughing with a “pfft,” then quickly composed himself. “Sorry, couldn’t help it. Okay, I understand.”

“What kind of attitude is that?” Qi Lan’s gaze grew slightly stern.

“Prince Qi, I’ve eaten more salt than you’ve eaten rice. That’s simply not the attitude of someone who likes another person. Since you said it as a joke, naturally I’ll treat it as a joke.”

Qi Lan’s face darkened gloomily.

Last time at the Zheng mansion, he’d seen that Gu Jiuqing had unusual thoughts about this person, which sparked his desire to compete.

The other was Great Yu’s Crown Prince, raised in the Cold Palace, with an eccentric and unlikeable personality; he himself was a Great Xi prince, showered with endless affection, and though not yet twenty, was already the dream lover of countless noble sons and daughters in the imperial capital.

But since entering Great Yu, he’d been restricted everywhere because of his status, especially by Gu Jiuqing—what right did that person have to look at him with such superior eyes?

If he could steal away the person Gu Jiuqing had his eye on, he could certainly feel triumphant and proud.

He’d already imagined countless times the Crown Prince’s expression of gnashing his teeth in hatred yet being helpless about it.

But he’d only just implemented the first step and already hit an obstacle.

He’d wanted to say this at the lecture hall before, but unfortunately Qi Xiang’s death had interrupted him midway, and these past days there’d been no chance to run into the person at the Imperial Academy. After one postponement after another, today he’d finally found an opportunity, but this was Pei Yanci’s reaction.

Seeing the person about to leave, he hurriedly grabbed his arm. “I really do like you. My attitude has always been like this—you’re not unaware of that—but in my heart I’m very serious.”

Pei Yanci pulled his hand away and patted his upper arm. “Stop fooling around. Big brother still has a crowd of people waiting to be favored.”

“You?” Qi Lan completely didn’t believe it. “No, wait—I’m older than you. What gives you the right to talk to me like that!”

Pei Yanci no longer wanted to waste words with him.

Gu Yueqian came over surrounded by a cluster of young ladies and madams, heading toward the Cloud Platform in the center of the lake. The noble sons and young masters also took their seats one after another on the opposite side.

Gu Yueqian sat at the central seat at the head, and Pei Yanci was arranged at the first position at the lower end. Seeing that he’d taken his seat, Princess Zhangping held up a fan to cover the corner of her lips and asked in a low voice, “Where’s Lan’er?”

Just as she asked, Qi Lan came striding over.

As soon as he entered, low whispers of conversation broke out on both left and right sides of the platform.

Gu Yueqian looked at everyone’s admiration for her son with satisfaction, while verbally reproaching, “Everyone has arrived and we’re just waiting for you. Hurry and drink a cup of wine in apology.”

Qi Lan didn’t seem to be in a very good mood. Without saying much, he glumly downed a cup of wine and sat down opposite Pei Yanci.

The banquet began.

Gu Yueqian had organized this with the purpose of matchmaking. After three rounds of wine, young ladies inevitably took turns performing on stage—dancing with pipa, playing flute and zither, songs and calligraphy—a great variety of performances, exciting and brilliant.

Pei Yanci also watched with great interest. One young lady walked to the center of the stage and said, “This subject’s daughter has been clumsy with hands and feet since childhood, not as talented as the other sisters. I’ve only read a couple more books, so why don’t I compose an impromptu poem? I hope Princess Your Highness and all the young masters won’t find it distasteful.”

Gu Yueqian’s fox-like beautiful eyes flashed with understanding as she smiled. “Since today is a chrysanthemum viewing party, let’s use autumn chrysanthemums as the topic. Compose a poem within the time it takes for one incense stick to burn.”

The young lady curtsied in acceptance.

The invitations had been sent out over half a month ago, and everyone knew the theme of this banquet. That young lady had obviously prepared her poem in advance. Pretending to contemplate for half the time of a burning incense stick, she then picked up her brush and wrote a poem.

When she recited it, it immediately earned applause from everyone present.

One young master laughed. “From this poem one can see that Miss Sun, though dwelling in her chamber, has her heart in court and country. Especially the last line—borrowing the chrysanthemum’s indomitable spirit and fearlessness of wind and frost to praise the hardworking quality of Great Yu’s sons at the border. To have such ability among women is quite remarkable.”

Gu Yueqian lightly waved her round fan, looking at his confident and proud manner. “Oh? Only ‘quite remarkable’?”

“Outstanding among women, but all the young masters present achieved their positions through the imperial examinations and are intimately familiar with the current situation. Naturally, they see issues more deeply, without that feminine powder smell and petty-minded air.” The person said, “Actually, Miss Sun needs only stay home and properly support her husband and teach her children, like the other young ladies, practicing more dance and music to win her husband’s family’s favor. Political affairs of the previous court are matters men should worry about. Women concerning themselves with this is purely making trouble for nothing. Discussing political affairs naturally carries the suspicion of a hen crowing at dawn.”

Miss Sun, sitting in her seat, turned bright red from embarrassment, her face flushed as she began to quietly sob.

“The newly appointed top scholar’s confidence is certainly robust.” The smile on Gu Yueqian’s face faded somewhat.

Only then did Pei Yanci look up toward the young man who had just spoken—so this person was this year’s top scholar in the imperial examinations, Zhao Yuan.

This person had been appointed by the Emperor as Right Shiyi. Though only eighth rank, in previous periods this position could directly communicate with the Emperor and was quite promising for one’s political career.

(TL: 拾遺 (shíyí)= Literal meaning: “One who picks up omissions” — historically, a censorial role reporting errors, oversights, or suggestions to the emperor.

Right Shiyi (右拾遺): There were usually Left (左) and Right (右) Shiyi posts. The Right Shiyi was considered prestigious and could report directly to the emperor.)

Now, he could only interact with the moody Tang Xizhui.

“This princess has never heard such thunderous words during my time in Great Xi. Today I’ve certainly broadened my horizons. Why don’t all the young masters compose poems on the theme of chrysanthemums to discuss how Great Yu currently surpasses Great Xi, what the advantages are, and where the reasons lie?” Gu Yueqian said.

The young ladies’ talents had all been prepared in advance, and the young masters present were no less ready. Everyone knew that winning the hearts of noble daughters was only incidental—what they truly wanted to enter was the eye of this Second Princess.

Immediately, quite a few people stood up in succession. Some composed poems praising Great Yu’s Emperor for his enlightened governance and tolerance toward other small nations—Western Region merchants would traverse several Great Xi provinces just to bring treasures to trade in Great Yu. Others praised Great Yu’s cultural prosperity endlessly—even children on the street could read and recite poetry. Still others spoke of the clear political situation, how the common people never picked up lost items on the road, possessing the legacy of the ancient sage kings Yao and Shun.

Being able to connect a few chrysanthemums to the fate of family and nation, finding different ways to praise—this too was a skill, not disgracing the learning in their bellies.

When it came to Zhao Yuan’s turn, this newly appointed top scholar had obviously also prepared. He confidently and slowly stood up, borrowing the chrysanthemum’s golden color to metaphorically describe Great Yu’s current prosperous glory, peace under heaven, and the people’s well-being—so much better than Great Xi’s current chaos, beyond measure.

Pei Yanci listlessly took a bite of roasted venison.

Si Feng harbored resentment, that was true. This top scholar’s literary talent was splendid, but the substantive content was empty—he couldn’t even compare to these mediocre people present. Comparing Si Feng’s article written on the spot during the examination with this carefully prepared poem of his would be an insult.

Zhao Yuan looked proudly at everyone present, surveying the entire assembly, feeling he could make his reputation even more resounding today.

“If we speak of the exemplary education of the world’s talented scholars, none can compare to the Imperial Academy. As Pei Daren holds the position of Chancellor of the Imperial Academy, he must be far more learned and knowledgeable than everyone present.”

In an instant, Pei Yanci became the focus of everyone’s attention.

Qi Lan looked at the person across from him whose cheeks were bulging, looking up with a bewildered expression, and couldn’t help but cover his face with his hand.

“Zhao Daren, the position of Chancellor doesn’t merely oversee the Imperial Academy’s education—it also involves establishing educational standards for all scholars under heaven. He’s not the same as you. In his daily life, he doesn’t have that much idle time to delve into trivial scholarly pursuits.”

Pei Yanci slowly swallowed the venison in his mouth. The sun must be rising from the west—this person would actually speak up for him today.

Could what he said earlier actually be true?

“Even if he’s busy with government affairs and his scholarship isn’t refined, as someone who serves as a teacher and role model, he should at least have some learning, shouldn’t he?” said someone at the table beside Zhao Yuan.

“How long have you few been officials, yet you’re starting to question court officials who rank four or five grades above you?” Qi Lan’s eyes were full of sharp mockery.

“Since ancient times, there have been loyal ministers who didn’t bend to tyrannical authority, who dared to directly remonstrate with their superiors, correcting errors and providing support, becoming celebrated stories. Can the people of the world feel at ease with Great Yu’s education entrusted to someone who can’t even recognize a single character?” another person called out.

This remark drew echoes from a group of people.

The young masters present were at most twenty-five or twenty-six years old. Having distinguished themselves from among millions, achieving fame at a young age with limitless prospects ahead, a certain arrogance was inevitable. Not yet contaminated by the foul air of officialdom, they were overbearing and gave no quarter with their words.

“Everyone in the world is at ease—it’s just you few who aren’t.” Qi Lan laughed with rebellious mockery. “Relying on having some learning to act so arrogant—do you think you can swagger through officialdom with just this?”

“Though we cannot, those who seek benefits for the people of the world and welfare for the common people—since ancient times, which one hasn’t been a person of broad learning? Have you ever seen an illiterate person managing those with learning?”

“Pei Daren was promoted by His Majesty. Do you know whose decisions you’re questioning?” Qi Lan’s eyes narrowed slightly, his face gradually darkening.

“I know.” That person said stubbornly. “But if there’s an error, it must be corrected, even if it’s Yao or Shun. If he’s a wise ruler, naturally he’ll listen to the good words of loyal ministers. I believe in Great Yu’s clear and open court governance. If it can accommodate the different customs of a hundred nations, naturally it can also adopt words from all directions.”

Pei Yanci languidly spoke up. “All the darens and young masters present possess splendid literary talent, broad knowledge of past and present, and are intimately familiar with Great Yu’s political situation, recounting it like treasured possessions. I’m ashamed of my inferiority.”

He didn’t need to rely on this to catch Gu Yueqian’s eye anyway.

“Pei Daren’s use of idioms is already quite good. Why not compose an impromptu poem on the spot?” Zhao Yuan made a gesture of “please.”

“I don’t know how to compose poetry.” Pei Yanci said helplessly.

As soon as these words left his mouth, they immediately drew a round of low laughter.

Gu Yueqian found his predicament somewhat amusing, but this was her own banquet—she couldn’t let things get too tense. “Since Pei Daren doesn’t want to compose poetry, we won’t force him. Why not directly discuss—how does Great Yu currently surpass Great Xi, and what are the reasons?” 

Pei Yanci felt somewhat irritated and casually gave a perfunctory answer. “Talented people emerging in large numbers.”

The crowd present laughed even louder.

TL/N:

Yao (堯) and Shun (舜) are legendary sage-kings from ancient China.

They are often invoked in literature to represent ideal virtuous rulers and golden-age governance.

References to them signal moral excellence, fairness, and benevolent rule.