Inside Hanyuan Hall, the lights were blazing brightly.
Pei Cijing followed the palace attendant into the hall, unable to stop his gaze from looking around.
The hall was much more spacious than he had imagined. Over a dozen vermilion pillars stood tall, coiled with gold-painted dragon motifs that sparkled under the candlelight.
The ceiling featured a caisson design, retracting inward layer by layer. At the very center was painted a massive mural of a dragon in the clouds—the golden dragon bared its fangs and brandished its claws, looking down upon the mortal beings in the hall.
Layers of gauze curtains hung all around, giving the entire grand hall a dreamlike, ethereal atmosphere.
Over a hundred low desks had already been arranged inside.
They were divided into two rows on either side.
On the desks sat various fruits and pastries, complete with wine pots and cups. People were already seated behind some of the desks; some conversed in low voices, some sat upright and formally, and others let their gazes wander around the hall.
"Lord Pei, your seat is over here."
The attendant guided Pei Fucheng toward the front right side.
There were a few individual desks over there, slightly wider than the ones in the back rows, and the arrangements on them were more exquisite. Pei Fucheng gave a slight nod and walked over with steady steps.
Pei Cijing did not follow him.
Although he had come along to attend the banquet, it did not mean he was qualified to share a table with Pei Fucheng—in fact, he didn't even have an individual seat.
"Young Master Pei, your seat is over there."
The attendant raised a hand, pointing toward the furthest corner of the hall.
Pei Cijing looked in the direction he pointed—in the corner near the hall doors sat several long tables, with some young faces seated behind them. There were no individual wine pots or cups on the tables, only a few shared ones; the few plates of pastries were also visibly less refined than those in the front rows.
Pei Cijing understood immediately.
This was probably similar to the "kids' table" from his previous life.
But he felt no dissatisfaction in his heart. He had been brought in by Pei Fucheng. Being without an official rank and coming from the secondary branch as a concubine-born son, just being able to enter this hall was already thanks to the promotion of his eldest uncle and the old madam. How could he dare to hope for an individual seat? Just being able to attend the feast was enough!
A corner it is.
In his previous life, when attending banquets.
He always liked these kinds of spots.
It was inconspicuous, comfortable, and allowed him to take in the entire venue at a glance.
Just as he was about to step over, he caught sight of Pei Fucheng turning back from the corner of his eye.
Their gazes met in the air.
Pei Fucheng did not speak, merely looking at him quietly. That gaze carried a bit of scrutiny, a bit of warning, and a bit of... faint worry.
Pei Cijing understood it.
His eldest uncle was still uneasy about him, mostly worried that his true nature would be exposed and he wouldn't be able to keep up this serious facade; worried that he would make a mistake at the palace banquet and disgrace the Marquis's estate; or perhaps worried that, being young and arrogant, he wouldn't know his limits and would offend someone he shouldn't.
Pei Cijing's heart stirred slightly.
He returned Pei Fucheng a look, sincere and earnest, which clearly spelled out a few words: Don't worry, Uncle, I absolutely won't embarrass you!
Pei Fucheng looked at his solemn expression.
He gave a slight nod.
With an unchanging expression, he withdrew his gaze and turned to walk toward the front row.
Did he believe it?
Or not?
Pei Cijing couldn't say for sure. But since his uncle didn't say anything else, he would just leave it at that.
He also withdrew his gaze and followed the attendant toward the corner.
Five or six people were already seated behind that long table, all young men in their late teens or twenties. Some wore luxurious brocade robes, while others were dressed as ordinary young masters of noble families.
Seeing someone approach.
A few of them looked up—some nodded as a greeting, while others ignored him completely.
Pei Cijing didn't care too much about this. He found the deepest spot in the corner and sat down squarely and properly.
The attendant left after bringing him there.
Since they were sitting in the deepest corner, the palace hadn't specifically arranged seats for them; as long as there was a place to sit, it was fine.
The guests in the hall gradually arrived.
At the very front were the seats for the Crown Prince and several other princes.
Crown Prince Li Chengqian sat at the highest seat on the far left. Dressed in an apricot-yellow brocade robe, his face was composed as he spoke in low tones with the princes beside him.
His gaze occasionally swept over the crowd in the hall.
Then withdrew.
No expression could be seen on his face.
The Sixth Prince, Li Chengyu, sat slightly behind and to the side of the Crown Prince. Today he wore a dark-colored brocade robe with a jade belt around his waist. His features were handsome and striking, and he seemed completely indifferent to everything around him.
However, when his gaze swept past a certain corner of the palace hall.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
Then, he quickly looked away.
Behind them were several elderly imperial princes, all brothers of the old Emperor. Their hair and beards were completely white, yet they still sat upright in their court attire, wearing their customary expressions of deference.
Further back were the meritorious nobles and high officials.
Pei Cijing saw his eldest uncle, the Marquis of Weiyuan, Pei Fucheng—he sat in the upper-middle section on the left side, adjacent to several other marquises similarly dressed in brocade robes, giving a slight nod as he listened to something.
At the very back.
That was where they, the "accessories," were placed.
Behind the dozen or so long tables sat sixty or seventy young scions. Some sat rigidly upright like Pei Cijing, some had already begun conversing in low voices, and others secretly sized up the big figures in the front rows, their eyes full of envy.
The central position at the very front remained empty.
That chair was larger and wider than the rest.
Carved with dragons and painted with phoenixes, it was draped with a bright yellow brocade cushion, gleaming with a noble light under the candlelight. That chair was larger than the others, carved with dragons and phoenixes, and covered with a bright yellow brocade cushion. The five-clawed golden dragon on the back of the chair sparkled under the candlelight, looking as if it might soar into the sky at any moment.
In front of the chair was an equally large desk.
On the desk sat golden goblets and jade cups.
Along with several plates of exquisite pastries that clearly stood out from the rest.
Pei Cijing looked at the empty chair, muttering to himself—so this is the dragon throne. It certainly is imposing. He just wondered what kind of bearing the person who would soon sit in this chair would possess.
Just as he was thinking, a sharp, high-pitched announcement suddenly rang out from outside the hall—
"The Emperor arrives—"
The voice was drawn out, sharp and lingering. It pierced through the layers of gauze curtains, pierced through the brilliant lights and voices filling the hall, like an invisible blade slicing cleanly through all the noise within.
The hall fell instantly silent.
It was so quiet that one could hear the sound of the flickering candle flames.
Everyone rose in unison.
Pei Cijing also stood up, lowering his head slightly, his gaze falling upon the tips of his own shoes.
Footsteps echoed from outside the hall.
Unhurried.
Step by step.
It felt as though they were stepping on everyone's hearts.
The footsteps grew closer and clearer. Pei Cijing could feel the sound passing right by him, could feel that bright yellow figure walking step by step toward the very front.
Finally, the footsteps stopped, halting before the dragon throne.
Pei Cijing's eyelids were lowered, but his gaze stealthily shifted upward, finally catching sight of the old Emperor's true face—he was an old man past the age of sixty.
His hair and beard were already graying.
His face was lean.
Between his brows, he carried the unique majesty of one who had long held a position of supreme power. It wasn't an intentionally displayed authority, but rather something that had naturally seeped into his very bones after sitting in that position year after year.
He wore a bright yellow dragon robe embroidered with five-clawed golden dragons that sparkled under the candlelight. On his head rested a winged crown, the pearls and jade on it swaying gently with his slight movements, reflecting fragmented light.
Pei Cijing's gaze lingered on him for a moment.
Then hurriedly withdrew.
Yet, in his heart, he couldn't help but feel a little thrilled.
After all, this was a living, breathing Emperor!
You have to know that this species had long gone extinct in his past life, an existence only remembered through TV dramas, yet now he was sitting alive and well right in front of him.
If it weren't for the inappropriate setting.
He really wanted to whip out his phone, take a picture, and post it to his social media: "Finally saw a live Emperor!"
It was just that he didn't seem to have a phone...
"Greetings, Your Majesty!"
Once the old emperor settled into his exclusive seat, the crowd bowed in unison. The thundering cheers echoed through the hall, shaking the dust right off the ceiling beams.
The old emperor's cloudy yet authoritative eyes swept over everyone in the hall. He pressed his hands down in the air and spoke. His voice wasn't loud, but it reached everyone's ears clearly: "Dispense with the formalities, my beloved subjects. Please, take your seats."
"Thank you, Your Majesty!"
The crowd rose and took their respective seats.
Then, the old emperor raised the wine goblet in front of him and said, "Over the past year, the Great Qian Dynasty has enjoyed favorable weather, peace, and prosperity. The borders are quiet, and the court is stable. This is due to the hard work of my beloved subjects, as well as the blessings of Heaven."
"Come, my subjects, empty this cup! To Great Qian, to the Heavens! And to all of you!"
"To Great Qian, to the Heavens! To Your Majesty!"
The crowd raised their cups in unison.
Pei Cijing also hurriedly picked up his wine cup and drained it along with the rest.
As the liquid flowed down his throat, it was slightly spicy yet carried a hint of sweetness. This was imperial wine, countless times better than the liquor outside. He smacked his lips, savoring the aftertaste, and decided it was indeed excellent.
The old emperor set down his goblet and gave a slight nod. "Today is for celebration, so I shall say no more. Men, play the music, start the dance, and let the feast begin!"
As his words fell, melodious music immediately rang out from outside the hall.
A troupe of musicians filed in, taking their seats at the side of the hall to begin their performance. Zithers and lutes harmonized while bells and drums chimed together. The music was solemn and elegant, a ceremonial tune unique to the imperial court.
Following closely, a group of dancers gracefully entered.
Wearing colorful iridescent dresses and wielding long flowing sleeves, they danced to the music. Their movements were light and graceful, their long sleeves fluttering like clouds and mist, dazzling the eyes of the onlookers.
At the same time, the hall doors opened wide.
A line of eunuchs filed in carrying trays loaded with various dishes—steaming hot and overflowing with mouth-watering aromas. Roast suckling pig, roast goose, steamed sea bass, braised deer tendon, eight-treasure duck, hibiscus chicken slices...
The eunuchs orderly wove through the tables.
They set the dishes down one by one.
As the exquisite dishes passed right in front of Pei Cijing, the aromas drilled straight into his nose. Having saved his appetite all day, his eyes couldn't help but drift along with the trays.
Unfortunately, none of them were for his table.
After all, the VIPs were seated at the front. The dishes had to be fully served to the front tables before it was the turn of accessories like them.
Pei Cijing stared at a plate of roast suckling pig passing by.
His eyes went wide and fixated.
The suckling pig was roasted to perfection—the skin was golden and crispy, gleaming with oil, and sprinkled with fine salt and pepper. The aroma shot straight into his nose, making him so hungry he couldn't help but swallow hard.
This smell was just too much to handle!
You have to understand, he had followed the grand tradition of attending a banquet by saving his stomach. He hadn't eaten much for breakfast or lunch, just waiting for this evening's feast.
But soon, soon.
Once the front was served.
It would be their turn!
Just as he was thinking this, his gaze inadvertently swept over the eunuch carrying the food. The eunuch kept his head down, his face hidden in the shadows, making his expression unreadable.
A strange feeling suddenly flashed through Pei Cijing's mind.
He shifted his gaze away from that eunuch, scanning the other food-bearing eunuchs, the musicians playing the instruments, and the dancing women—
Something was wrong!
Extremely, unbelievably wrong!
These eunuchs, dancers, and musicians were not simple people. Pei Cijing's left eyelid twitched violently as a bad premonition welled up in his heart once more...
Right at that moment, Crown Prince Li Chengqian, holding his wine goblet, slowly stood up.
He stepped out from his seat.
Step by step, he walked toward the center of the hall.
The gazes of everyone in the hall coincidentally fell upon him.
The old emperor sat on his dragon throne, watching the Crown Prince's actions. His face remained impassive, only narrowing his eyes slightly, but he did not stop him. As the master of the Eastern Palace and the heir apparent, the Crown Prince indeed had the right to say a few words at a palace banquet, win over some courtiers, and display his princely demeanor.
This was all standard procedure.
The old emperor was not surprised.
The Crown Prince did not walk fast. Step by step, he walked steadily to the center of the hall, stopping a short distance away from the dragon throne.
He turned around, faced the old emperor, and took a deep bow.
The hall fell quiet.
Everyone was watching this scene.
The Crown Prince straightened up, raised his head, and looked at the old emperor on the dragon throne. His gaze was as calm as water, and he even wore a faint smile on his face.
Then, he spoke.
His voice was not loud, but it clearly reached everyone's ears—
"Imperial Father is advanced in years and has toiled for the nation for decades. Whenever your son thinks of this, I cannot bear it in my heart. Today, at this palace banquet, with all the civil and military officials, nobles, and royal relatives present, your son makes bold to ask for a favor."
He paused.
A strange glint suddenly flashed in his eyes.
"I ask Imperial Father to abdicate and yield to someone more capable, and hand this empire over to your son."
As his words fell, a dead silence swept through the hall.
The old emperor on the dragon throne remained seated, his face sinking like water. In those cloudy eyes, something suddenly shattered.
Those nobles and ministers, those princes and royals, all looked as if they had been frozen in place. Their faces were full of disbelief. Some had their mouths wide open, others had their eyes bulging. For some, the wine cups in their hands dropped to the floor with a clatter, splashing wine all over them without them even noticing.
What was the Crown Prince doing?
The Crown Prince was forcing an abdication!
The dancers who had been gracefully dancing had stopped at some unknown point. From their long sleeves, gleaming short swords suddenly slid out.
The musicians also stopped playing and drew weapons from their instruments.
Those eunuchs who had been holding trays had now flipped them over, spilling the dishes all over the floor. In their hands, they held weapons that had been hidden beneath the trays.
One eunuch was standing not far in front of Pei Cijing.
Just a moment ago, he had been holding that plate of roast suckling pig, his face full of smiles as he prepared to serve Pei Cijing's table.
Now, that plate of roast suckling pig had been smashed onto the floor—the gleaming, oily pig skin was covered in dust, ruined completely. And in his hand, he gripped a shining short sword.
The tip of the sword was pointing right in Pei Cijing's direction.
Pei Cijing looked at the sword, then looked at the thoroughly ruined roast suckling pig on the floor.
Pei Cijing suddenly felt a burst of heartache.
What a perfect plate of roast suckling pig!
Who knows how long the chefs in the imperial kitchen had roasted it to achieve such golden, crispy skin. It must have been brushed with honey three times to produce such a tantalizing glaze. The pork must have been from the finest suckling pig, tender and succulent, rich but not greasy.
And just like that...
It was dropped?
Wasting food invites the wrath of heaven!
He raised his head, looked at the sword-wielding eunuch, and then glanced at the surrounding assassins glaring like tigers. Finally, he cursed silently in his heart—Damn it!
A palace coup is a palace coup!
Why did they have to waste the food?
