"The Emperor and Empress have arrived!"
As the herald's voice rang out, the Emperor and Empress entered hand in hand.
The assembled crowd in the hall immediately bowed in reverence, even the southern barbarian Princess Meng Ji pressing a hand to her chest in a gesture of respect.
Chu Ruoyan stole a glance upward and saw that behind the imperial couple, aside from the Princess and several princes, Yan Zheng was positioned closest to the front.
He remained seated in his wheelchair, his features calm and composed, draped in a thick fox-fur cloak. His complexion seemed healthier than before.
Once the Emperor took his seat at the head of the hall, he declared, "Rise, my loyal subjects."
The crowd stood and took their seats. To Chu Ruoyan's surprise, Yan Zheng wheeled himself toward her without hesitation.
"Teehee, Sister Chu, your man is coming over!"
Meng Ji whispered teasingly in her ear, making Chu Ruoyan's heart skip a beat. She quickly lowered her gaze.
The wheelchair paused briefly in front of her before turning and settling into the seat beside hers.
Just as she let out a quiet sigh of relief, Meng Ji strode over to Yan Zheng's seat and scrutinized him from head to toe. "I never expected you to be so handsome! What a shame you're a cripple!"
Yan Zheng swept her a cold glance without a flicker of emotion. Meng Ji clapped her hands and laughed. "My elder brother often looks at me the same way! No wonder he says you're the greatest rival he's ever faced!"
The hall fell deathly silent.
Every eye was fixed on Meng Ji.
As an envoy from the southern barbarians, she had neglected to greet the Emperor first, instead focusing all her attention on a mere court official—an outright insult to Great Xia!
The Emperor's face darkened with anger, and the old censors nearly erupted in rebuke.
At that moment, Princess Ansheng spoke up with a smile. "Brother, look how spirited this little princess is! Even though Zheng'er has lost his legs, the southern barbarians still can't forget him..."
The implication was clear: even a crippled member of the Yan family could strike fear into the hearts of the southern barbarians!
Meng Ji's smile stiffened. The Emperor, visibly pleased, remarked, "The Princess speaks wisely. Princess Meng Ji, coming from the wilds beyond the frontier, must be unfamiliar with the breadth of our Central Plains. During this month of peace talks, the Princess should take her out to broaden her horizons."
This was a thinly veiled insult, mocking the southern barbarians as uncivilized outsiders. A flash of anger crossed Meng Ji's eyes, but her smile only grew sweeter. "Your Majesty, there's no need for such 'enlightenment.' In Tiger Prison Pass, we've seen plenty of your Han culture. The most famous is an opera called The Tale of Li Ling—might we have the honor of watching it at today's banquet?"
The moment the words left her mouth, the entire hall turned ashen.
Grand Tutor Rong thundered, "Princess Meng Ji! Are you deliberately insulting Great Xia?"
The Tale of Li Ling recounted the story of General Li Ling of the Han dynasty, who was captured by the Xiongnu and defected—a direct parallel to the Great Xia general who had abandoned Tiger Prison Pass and surrendered to the southern barbarians!
Meng Ji remained unruffled, smiling as she asked, "Your Majesty, have I said something wrong?"
The Emperor trembled with rage, but the Empress swiftly clasped his hand beneath the table. "Your Majesty, patience is key to great plans."
The southern front was in dire straits—Great Xia had already lost two critical strongholds, Hangu Pass and Tiger Prison Pass.
Now that peace talks were finally underway, provoking the southern barbarians into reigniting the war would be disastrous.
The Emperor took a deep breath, forcing down his fury—when a cool, composed voice cut through the tension.
"If Princess Meng Ji wishes to watch an opera, allow this Chief Minister to suggest one—The Legend of the Yang Family."
The story told of the Yang family during the Northern Song dynasty, where seven sons died in battle against the Khitans—yet the women of the Yang household took up arms and reclaimed their lost lands.
A clear message: temporary losses meant nothing. As long as the Yan family stood, Great Xia would reclaim its territory.
Meng Ji's face paled. The Emperor slammed the table in approval. "Excellent! Let the palace troupe perform The Legend of the Yang Family!"
"Your Majesty!" Meng Ji finally rose and offered a stiff bow. "Forgive my thoughtless words."
Her sudden retreat pleased the Emperor immensely. He graciously conceded, "Princess Meng Ji has traveled far and must be weary. Let us instead enjoy some music and dance to lift our spirits."
At his command, musicians and dancers flooded the hall.
Amidst the melodies and swirling silks, Chu Ruoyan—like most in attendance—wiped a nervous sweat from her palms.
The banquet had barely begun, yet tensions had already flared.
Thankfully, Yan Zheng had salvaged the situation...
"Sister Chu, your man is so impressive! Is he just as formidable in bed?"
Chu Ruoyan choked on her tea, whipping her head around to see Meng Ji grinning shamelessly at her.
"Princess Meng Ji! You—"
"Don't be shy! Tell me, are all the Yan men that extraordinary? Especially—" Meng Ji clung to her arm, whispering a few scandalous words that made even the unflappable Chu Ruoyan widen her eyes, her ears burning crimson. She shot to her feet, ready to flee—
But a pair of hands gripped her shoulders. She looked up. "Xiao Liu?"
Yan Zhao still wore his mask, but his eyes were hollow, as if his soul had been drained.
A chilling realization struck her—earlier, Chu Ruolan had also acted dazed after listening to the southern princess.
"What did you do to him?"
Meng Ji beamed. "You're so clever to guess so quickly! But I can't tell you yet. I'm not done playing with Brother Zhao—I'll return him once I'm bored, alright?"
Chu Ruoyan instinctively reached for Yan Zhao, but Meng Ji barked a command in her native tongue, and he immediately retreated.
Her heart sank as she glanced at Yan Zheng beside her.
He had clearly noticed the disturbance, his brow furrowing slightly.
Just then, the music and dance ended. Meng Ji stood and called out, "Your Majesty!"
All eyes turned to her as she strode to the center of the hall. "I’ve heard the women of Great Xia are exceptionally talented. Might I witness this firsthand today?"
The Emperor smiled. "As our honored guest, Princess, the Six Tones Troupe shall—"
"No." Meng Ji shook her head. "I was raised on horseback—I’ve no patience for songs and melodies. Instead, I request a contest of archery with the Third Lady of the Chu family!"
Gasps rippled through the hall.
An archery duel at a state banquet? The slightest misstep could draw blood!
Chu Ruolan gaped, bewildered as to why she had been singled out—until a wail pierced the air. Lady Jiang the Younger, who had just returned from the Dowager Empress’s quarters, stumbled forward and prostrated herself before the Emperor.
"Your Majesty! My daughter is clumsy and untrained in archery! Please, ask the Princess to choose another!"
The Emperor scowled. "Then who among us can face Princess Meng Ji?"
Since Meng Ji was a woman, only another woman could accept the challenge.
But the noble ladies of the capital, raised in luxury, were skilled in poetry and painting—not archery. Not a single one dared step forward.
As silence stretched, the Emperor’s expression darkened further. Princess Jiahui stepped forward. "Father! I volunteer—"
Before she could finish, a silver chopstick whizzed past her cheek, slicing off her veil.
Jiahui gasped—Meng Ji had flicked it effortlessly toward her.
The southern princess grinned. "Oops! My hand slipped!"
The archery skill displayed here surpassed even many male archers in prowess!
Jiahui covered her face with both hands and hastily retreated.
The entire hall was so silent you could hear a pin drop.
The Southern Barbarian envoy accompanying Meng Ji burst into unrestrained laughter: "Hahaha! They say Great Xia is vast and abundant, teeming with talent. Who’d have thought a mere archery contest would leave you all cowering? No wonder your armies were crushed and scattered like fallen leaves on the battlefield by our Southern Barbarian forces!"
The crowd seethed with anger but dared not speak up.
Then, a calm voice cut through the tension: "I’ll compete against you."
