Chen Er’mei had no choice but to obey orders. That night, the Imperial Kitchen Bureau worked overtime until midnight. The next morning, Chen Er’mei took the list of ingredients that needed to be temporarily added to find Huang Weide to open a green channel and dispatch people for urgent procurement.
With Noble Lady Hu absent, Huang Weide was fully in charge.
Huang Weide had originally been a fire-tending servant girl in the imperial kitchen, formerly called Mei Xiang. She understood the kitchen’s hardships all too well. Seeing Chen Er’mei’s bloodshot eyes from staying up all night, she quickly signed and sealed the documents to let people handle it, otherwise they wouldn’t make tonight’s Mid-Autumn family banquet.
Chen Er’mei poured out her grievances to Huang Weide, saying: “From Hongwu to Jianwen to Yongle, I’ve never encountered such a difficult consort to serve in the Imperial Kitchen Bureau. She changes things at the last minute—this is clearly a new official’s three fires upon taking office. She doesn’t dare confront Noble Lady Hu directly, so while Noble Lady Hu is home for the holiday and not in the palace, she uses me as a target. You should be careful too—don’t let her catch any pretext to discipline you. Our old faces that have served three reigns can be trampled on at will.”
Huang Weide was also a female official who had seen much of the world. She comforted Chen Er’mei: “I don’t think Consort Zhang did this intentionally. She comes from a distinguished family, pampered since childhood—how could she understand the hardships of those below? She’s young and newly in charge of the rear palace, afraid of being looked down upon and deceived, losing her authority, so she shows a strong front. You think she’s deliberately targeting you, but this actually shows she’s somewhat insecure and wants to establish her authority through this opportunity. She didn’t just reject your words—even when Noble Lady Hu requested sedan chair transport for the Dowager of Duke Qianguo that day, she refused twice before agreeing.”
“Consort Zhang’s demands are somewhat excessive, but she’s trying to make the Mid-Autumn banquet successful. This is her first time organizing a festival ceremony—she’s eager to gain recognition from the emperor and imperial family. Just bear with it. Today is Noble Lady Hu’s first rest day at home—the palace can’t have incidents. Don’t summon Noble Lady Hu back temporarily. She has a ten-year-old younger sister to care for at home—just let her have a proper holiday at home.”
After hearing this, Chen Er’mei said: “Fine, if not for the monk’s face, then for Buddha’s face. The Imperial Kitchen Bureau will do its best.”
Though she said this, she was still somewhat indignant. Chen Er’mei said: “If Consort Zhang wants to establish authority, there are six bureaus and one department in the palace, yet she specifically targets our Imperial Kitchen Bureau. Does she think we’re soft persimmons, easy to squeeze? It’s also my fault for usually being talkative and cheerful—everyone thinks I’m good-natured and easy to bully.”
Chen Er’mei had been in the palace for over twenty years, still maintaining her former cheerful personality of loving food, fun, talk, and laughter. She couldn’t keep thoughts to herself and would say whatever came to mind.
Chen Er’mei had helped Huang Weide search for relatives, finding her grandniece who was being raised by the Chen family. Recently, the Chen family had arranged an excellent marriage for Huang Weide’s niece—the man’s surname was Liang, from a prominent local family in Shunde, Guangdong. Huang Weide entrusted her years of savings to the Chen family to help prepare her niece’s dowry. Therefore, Huang Weide and Chen Er’mei had an excellent private relationship, trustworthy enough to entrust family and money to each other, so they spoke quite directly between themselves.
Huang Weide continued persuading her: “With Empress Ren Xiao’s national mourning and her coffin still in Rouyi Hall, during the national mourning period, the Mid-Autumn banquet can’t have music and dance—they can only put effort into the food. Consort Zhang is eager to curry favor, so she wants your Imperial Kitchen Bureau to bring out all your secret recipes. Without Consort Zhang, there would be Consort Li—this isn’t deliberately targeting you.”
Chen Er’mei remained unconvinced: “Empress Xiaoci, Empress Xiao Ma, and Empress Ren Xiao never had so many demands. As soon as Consort Zhang takes charge, she has the Imperial Kitchen Bureau running in circles.”
Huang Weide said: “The problem is legitimacy. If an empress hosts the family banquet, even if it’s simple—just rice porridge with pickled vegetables—it can be called ‘remembering bitter times and thinking of sweet ones.’ Who can find fault? When consorts are in charge, it’s different. If anything is done inadequately, which of those princes and princesses is easy to deal with? Don’t be angry—Consort Zhang faces more pressure than us.”
After hearing this, Chen Er’mei found it very reasonable, though she still said: “We understand Consort Zhang’s difficulties, but Consort Zhang doesn’t understand our difficulties. It’s a one-sided affair.”
Huang Weide smiled: “Consort Zhang isn’t stupid. After hitting the wall a few times, she’ll understand how to be a consort temporarily managing rear palace authority. Let’s wait and see.”
With Huang Weide’s cooperation, Chen Er’mei finally gathered all ingredients before the Mid-Autumn family banquet, instructing the kitchen: “Since Consort Zhang has brought out all the secret menus, you should display all your secret culinary skills. Don’t disappoint Consort Zhang. A new official’s three fires—if anyone gets burned, I don’t have the face to help put out the fire.”
Consort Zhang stirred up trouble, Chen Er’mei held a belly full of anger, so she drew hatred toward Consort Zhang.
With Consort Zhang wanting to establish authority, no one dared to stand out, so everyone obediently went to work. Fortunately, August weather had turned cooler, otherwise with smoke and fire plus ten times the workload, who could endure it?
This made palace people miss Empress Ren Xiao even more.
Before the banquet began, Chen Er’mei went to Yanxi Palace to report: “Reporting to Consort, the Imperial Kitchen Bureau is fully prepared.”
Palace maids were dressing Consort Zhang’s hair and appearance. During the national mourning period, cosmetics and bright jewelry couldn’t be used, but Consort Zhang had natural beauty without artificial adornment—her eyebrows were naturally emerald without drawing, her lips naturally red without rouge. Even plain clothes showed her perfect figure.
From today on, she would be the woman closest to the emperor—everything had to be perfect.
Five palace maids held five Western hand mirrors, allowing Consort Zhang to see her appearance from all angles.
Consort Zhang picked up a comb, dipped it in a little pomade, and obsessively smoothed her hair bun that had no stray hairs whatsoever. Her hair was well-maintained, piled on her head like black clouds, secured only with an unadorned blue jade hairpin.
This made the hair bun smooth as a mirror—even a fly landing on it would slip and fall to its death.
Only then was Consort Zhang satisfied, waving her hand for the five palace maids to put away the mirrors.
Consort Zhang said: “Understood. Palace Lady Chen has worked hard.”
Chen Er’mei said: “This subject isn’t tired—I just moved my lips. The kitchen staff and procurement people are the ones who worked hard.”
Chen Er’mei’s words contained subtle barbs. The palace attendants around Consort Zhang couldn’t help saying: “Palace Lady Chen, what do you mean by this? Earlier when asked to change menus, you made all sorts of excuses, and now you’re saying these things to block our mistress.”
This person was Consort Zhang’s dowry maid Wei Ha Si Tu Ya, a Mongol—tall and large, with a big round face, skilled in martial arts, possessing the fierce, fiery temperament of grassland peoples. In Mongolian, “Tu Ya” means beautiful jade. Half of ten Mongol girls are called Tu Ya—her name meant “beautiful jade of the Wei Ha Si family,” similar to how many Central Plains girls are called Shu Zhen. The name was too long to remember, so she was usually just called Tu Ya.
As a sixth-rank female official, would Chen Er’mei fear Tu Ya, a palace maid without rank? She calmly said: “The six bureaus and one department fully assist Consort in managing the six palaces. As a mere Palace Lady of Food, how would I dare be disrespectful to Her Ladyship? If Miss Tu Ya disagrees with my words just now, we can go to the Palace Justice Department for confrontation and request the Palace Justice’s ruling. Let’s not argue here and disturb Consort’s peace.”
Having survived three reigns, Chen Er’mei was confident she could control her words’ propriety and understood the art of speech—cursing without dirty words, clearly sarcastic yet leaving no handle to grasp. If they went to the Palace Justice Department, Tu Ya would definitely be charged with false accusation and suffer the consequences.
Tu Ya’s eyes widened: “You—”
Consort Zhang gave her a look, interrupting her, and said to Chen Er’mei: “The family banquet is about to begin. Palace Lady Chen, go get busy. This girl Tu Ya doesn’t know proper etiquette—I must teach her well.”
Having vented her anger and feeling comfortable, Chen Er’mei bowed and withdrew.
After Chen Er’mei left, Tu Ya muttered: “The six bureaus and one department are too bullying. It was clearly her fault—”
Consort Zhang extended her jade finger to harshly poke Tu Ya’s forehead, saying: “Don’t follow me to tonight’s banquet. Stay in the palace and study hard. You must pass the female scholar examination this year to become a female official, otherwise you’re no match for others—you can’t even win arguments. I need capable assistants, or I’ll truly be manipulated by the six bureaus and one department, becoming a puppet who only nods and shakes her head.”
Consort Zhang had natural distrust and wariness toward the six bureaus and one department, feeling “someone always wants to harm me.” Because Consort Zhang came from a princely palace, formerly in Northern Yuan, then in Beiping, as a surrendered Northern Yuan noble woman, she found it difficult to immediately understand the complexity of the Ming court and the delicate balance of power at this stage.
From Consort Zhang’s perspective, when she was previously a consort, whatever Empress Ren Xiao said, the six bureaus and one department would do, never contradicting the empress. As a consort, she didn’t need to worry about anything, spending days idle, waiting for meals and drinks, enjoying wealth and status.
When Consort Zhang took charge of the rear palace and sat in this position, she thought she could command the six bureaus and one department like Empress Ren Xiao, but reality was completely different from imagination.
Consort Zhang was young, well-born, and strong-willed, wanting the six bureaus and one department to obey her, but they seemed to want her to obey them—mutual checks and balances.
Why were the six bureaus and one department capable assistants in Empress Ren Xiao’s hands, but became obstacles in mine, always finding fault with me?
The rear palace’s six bureaus and one department system established since Empress Xiaoci couldn’t be shaken overnight. Consort Zhang decided to start by placing her own people within the six bureaus and one department.
For palace maids to advance, the first hurdle was the female scholar examination, testing literary rather than martial arts. Tu Ya swore to study for Consort, burning the midnight oil.
Imperial Palace, Mid-Autumn Family Banquet
No joy was visible, only sorrow.
An empty seat beside Emperor Yongle was set with Empress Ren Xiao’s favorite foods during her lifetime, the wine cup also full. Emperor Yongle would occasionally stare at the empty seat beside him as if seeing Empress Ren Xiao’s spirit dining there.
The princesses and prince consorts all came, the Han Prince’s family, Zhao Prince’s family, and the Eastern Palace family. The three princes’ small households all had many concubines, but family banquet seats were limited. Among the imperial family’s secondary wives, only Eastern Palace’s Guo Liangdi attended the Mid-Autumn family banquet with a seat—the rest stayed home.
Emperor Yongle missed his deceased wife, the princes and princesses mourned their deceased mother, the grandchildren grieved their deceased grandmother. The atmosphere was depressed, others dared not even breathe heavily. Even the most lively second imperial grandson Zhu Zhanhe wore a mournful face. Halfway through the Mid-Autumn family banquet, no one noticed this year’s banquet dishes had completely changed, each featuring their favorite foods, with almost no duplicate dishes across tables.
Perhaps someone noticed but didn’t want to speak, was too lazy to speak, or felt it unnecessary to mention—while mourning Empress Ren Xiao, why praise a consort temporarily managing rear palace authority?
For whom the hard work and busyness? Consort Zhang was greatly disappointed and felt empty inside.
Sitting below Consort Zhang was Noble Consort Quan. Behind Noble Consort Quan was the Korean girl group occupying half the rear palace—no, the Korean consorts. These vassal state consorts all had lowered eyebrows and submissive eyes, their expressions uniformly coordinated, with plain white round faces slightly flatter than Central Plains women.
Noble Consort Quan had fair skin like unmelting snow on Changbai Mountain for years. Unable to use cosmetics, her features appeared light, her lip color almost absent, possessing a sickly beauty. She was undoubtedly the most outstanding in appearance among this group of Korean consorts, with those seated behind seeming like her background props.
Noble Consort Quan told her attending palace maid: “The lotus seed soup on Empress Ren Xiao’s table has cooled. Go change it for a hot bowl.”
Consort Zhang: Are you crazy?!
Hearing this, Emperor Yongle, who had been lost in thought, suddenly awakened. He picked up the lotus seed soup from the neighboring table, tasted it, and put it down: “Still, Consort Quan is thoughtful. Except for moon cakes and wine, replace everything else with hot dishes.”
Consort Zhang never expected Noble Consort Quan would pull such a maneuver: Noble Consort Quan was too cunning! I did the work, I offended people, how did she get the credit?
She had just said one sentence!
Emperor Yongle’s gaze toward Noble Consort Quan softened: “My empress during her lifetime most loved hearing Consort play the flute. In previous Mid-Autumn festivals, Consort would always perform a piece. Today, though we’re in mourning and can’t have music and dance for entertainment, Consort Quan can make an exception and play one piece as an offering to the empress.”
Noble Consort Quan gently nodded: “Yes, Your Majesty.”