Only under grand designs could great transformations occur. Three consecutive years of abundant harvests gave the Great Tang dynasty incomparable confidence. Imperial authority became immensely powerful at this moment. Neighboring countries tremulously pledged allegiance to the Heavenly Khan, and countless merchants swarmed out beyond Great Tang’s borders, beginning a second wave of expansion.

The magnificent Hall of Ten Thousand Citizens was completely illuminated tonight, standing on Longshou Plateau brilliantly lit—it was like a celestial palace! The citizens of Chang’an put their fingers in their mouths, watching in mesmerized fascination.

“Beautiful, isn’t it? I was the one who brushed on the lacquer for the Hall of Ten Thousand Citizens. You can only see an outline, but I hung on the scaffolding and examined every detail. Inside the great hall, the floors are all wood—golden yellow, just like real gold. Third Zhou used sandstone to polish it bit by bit, more carefully than when he draws his wife’s eyebrows.”

“What are you bragging about? My grandfather is inside tonight drinking with His Majesty. I heard the guests’ combined ages must total exactly ten thousand years—they say it’s to celebrate Great Tang’s ten thousand years.”

“Nonsense! How could it be so coincidentally exactly ten thousand years? If you don’t know, don’t babble. Get lost and don’t disturb me watching the night scenery.”

“I heard if it’s not enough for ten thousand years, they’ll find a noble to make up the difference. What’s so difficult about reaching ten thousand years? Our Great Tang has more nobles than dogs—finding a suitable one is too easy.”

Sitting in his carriage listening to the clamor of citizens outside, Yun Ye’s face was as black as a pot bottom. That’s right—he was that makeweight. When they couldn’t reach ten thousand years, he’d been temporarily summoned by Ministry of Rites officials to fill the gap. They said something like “the dukes’ ages are too great—among the marquises only you are suitable. We’re just twenty years short—it’s simply heaven-made.”

Tonight the Yun family was holding a garden party. The Yun family garden was open to all estate residents, filled with hanging lanterns. The lanterns had riddles—guess the riddle correctly and you could take the lantern. Only at the garden entrance hung a sign Yun Ye personally wrote: “Academy students and dogs not permitted to enter.”

Last night it had been open to students, and as a result every lantern in the garden was taken, leaving it pitch black like a ghost realm. Those students who’d been drooling over the Yun family’s red silk-covered lanterns planned to conduct another sweep tonight—who knew the family wouldn’t allow it?

Hearing the young boys in the garden scratching their heads guessing riddles, their hearts burned with anxiety. Idiots! “Liu Bang laughs, Liu Bei cries”—did this riddle even need guessing? Xiang Yu died and Liu Bang laughed; Guan Yu died and Liu Bei cried. Combining “Yu dies” (羽死) makes the character for “emerald” (翠), doesn’t it? Some family’s fool actually guessed it as “ling” from “exquisite” (玲珑). Who was Wang Ling?

They stamped their feet and shouted outside the garden, not even in the mood to look twice at the Yun family’s beautiful maids, though those maids were all dressed up splendidly.

A chubby boy strutted out of the garden carrying a lantern on high, stuffed it into his mother’s hands as she sat amid the womenfolk eating and drinking, then charged back into the garden amid the women’s praises, planning to take away all the Yun family’s lanterns.

Academy students looked at the simple mathematics problems above and slapped their foreheads. Grabbing the guards watching the garden, they said: “I want to go in! Is the Yun family being unreasonable? Yesterday our lanterns all had obscure and difficult sentences, or arithmetic problems even Teacher Hypatia hadn’t taught. How come today they’ve changed to things even toes could calculate?”

The guard being grabbed by the chest wasn’t angry, smiling as he said: “You’re all scholars who’ve read great books—naturally the problems must be harder. Today’s visitors are all estate residents and small children—of course the problems are simple. Even if we set hard problems, didn’t you still take away all our lanterns? Our home was pitch black for half the night.”

“Look, Miss Han is batting her eyes at you. Won’t you go chat with her? Our maids all come from pure, respectable families. Seeing your days aren’t too prosperous, if you married Miss Han, her father’s dowry would let you live in plenty.”

Only then did the students seem to notice those heavily made-up women holding tea and snacks. Their interest immediately surged. Knowing the Yun family’s household customs, those maids must all be good women. Maidservants trained by Grand Madam were incomparably superior to ordinary families’ daughters. Besides, with Li Jing and Hong Funv’s story as precedent, students greatly yearned for such romantic affairs. Taking one home as a wife didn’t seem bad at all.

Rubbing their faces, adjusting their voices, seeing one they fancied, they would saunter over with measured steps, pick up a pastry from the maid’s tray, stuff it in their mouths, swallow it in two or three bites, then bob their heads saying: “The ospreys cry, on the river islet. The modest maiden—a gentleman’s good match. May I ask the young lady’s age? Are you yet betrothed?”

Naturally, the responses varied—some even got slapped. The Yun family’s maids couldn’t compare to those bond servants who sold themselves into service—they were all free people who hadn’t signed servitude contracts, using the maid title to learn skills. Guanzhong women had fierce temperaments. If they liked you, fine; if not, they wouldn’t hesitate to slap you.

Compared to the Yun residence’s joy, Yun Ye’s time at the Hall of Ten Thousand Citizens was living hell. A dense mass of old men—some with dim old eyes, some who needed to sleep after every two sentences. Farting and snoring sounds were endless. Those more alert either drank sullenly or ate meat voraciously, completely ignoring whatever the ritual officials said above. These old fellows were spoiled lawless by Great Tang’s legal code. Before the banquet even started, it was already a mess.

“Young man, come tear open this chicken for this old man.” A fat old man beside Yun Ye handed him a plump chicken, matter-of-factly ordering Yun Ye to work.

“Many thanks, elder, but I’m not hungry. Please eat it yourself!” Yun Ye thought the old man wanted to share half the chicken with him, since there was only one chicken on the table.

The old man glared: “Who said I’d share with you? This old man can’t bite a whole chicken—eat half, save half, continue eating tomorrow. This old man’s son is a clerk in Chang’an County.”

Though he wanted to throw the whole chicken in the clerk’s father’s face, seeing Li Er’s joyful appearance, he didn’t dare spoil his mood. Grinding his teeth, Yun Ye tore open the chicken for the old fellow, spit into it, then handed it over.

Before the old fellow could make him debone fish, Yun Ye hurriedly stood up and walked toward the small private room opposite. He’d rather serve Yan Zhitui than sit at the same table as that abusive old man.

Yan Zhitui held an honored position and naturally occupied a table alone, dozing with squinted eyes. Seeing Yun Ye approach, he was delighted and immediately pushed over a fatty piece of pork rump: “Boy, eat quickly! Preserved meat is a fine thing. Back when Fan Kuai ate it on his shield—that was this stuff, but not even cooked. You’re lucky! This old man has been coveting it for ages, but alas, no teeth—can only sigh helplessly. This thing must be eaten with gusto to suit the occasion. Eat quickly.”

Yun Ye was truly hungry and couldn’t care about much. Taking it, he went through lion head-shaking and monkey face-scratching motions. In moments, a plate of fatty meat went down his belly—rich but not greasy, soft and tender. Truly a fine thing.

Yan Zhitui swallowed some saliva: “How about it? Didn’t this old man speak truly? Of the palace food, only this dish suits my appetite—everything else is just for show.” The older the old man got, the more childlike he became. Yun Ye liked this kind of old man.

He pulled out a packet of milk candy from his chest and invited Yan Zhitui to try one. The old man loved it immensely. His toothless mouth threw in three pieces at once, puffing out his cheeks, eyes closed enjoying the milk fragrance. Even so, he didn’t forget to stuff all the remainder into his own chest, habitually patting it, increasingly satisfied.

Someone shouted: “A toast to Great Tang’s ten thousand years!” Yun Ye raised his cup and took a big drink. Before putting down the cup, he heard someone else shout: “A toast to His Majesty’s ten thousand years!” Yun Ye had no choice but to raise it again and continue.

The bronze goblet was a foot long with two ears attached. Holding it with both hands felt heavy. He didn’t know what those two ears were for—only felt they kept poking into his nostrils every time, very uncomfortable.

Yan Zhitui had fallen asleep again, still holding candy in his mouth. Not daring to disturb him, though the fire dragons in the great hall burned vigorously, Yun Ye still covered the old man with his own cloak. He slowly sipped grape wine, instructing a eunuch to bring him some ice—grape wine without chilling didn’t taste right.

People couldn’t be idle—idleness led to trouble. Yun Ye was still full of curiosity about the Hall of Ten Thousand Citizens. Back then Gongshu Jia wouldn’t let him near this palace, saying something about him being an architectural jinx. Especially after hearing Yun Ye had accidentally blown up Li Er’s sleeping quarters, he imposed the strictest prohibition—Yun Ye wasn’t even allowed to speak the three words “Hall of Ten Thousand Citizens.”

Now Gongshu Jia wasn’t here—he wasn’t qualified to attend such a banquet. Those black-hatted eunuchs bustled through the hall. Colorfully dressed dancing girls twirled gracefully. Li Er sat at the highest position holding his wine cup drinking wildly. The bronze chime bells on both sides of the hall caught Yun Ye’s attention.

A female musician holding a small mallet listened intently to the music, occasionally striking. Li Er was so stingy—shouldn’t chime bells be bronze? Why were the Hall of Ten Thousand Citizens’ chime bells made of jade?

Curiously tapping the outermost jade piece with his bronze goblet, the sound was crisp and melodious, quite pleasant. He’d originally thought in such a noisy environment, who came to listen to music? Everyone came to eat delicacies and watch beautiful women—music made no difference whether it was there or not.

That female musician was frightened pale, tears welling as she looked at Yun Ye, begging him to quickly leave. Disrupting elegant music was a serious crime.

They say “when the tune errs, Zhou Lang notices”—now Li Lang was no different. Li Er, who’d been drinking, immediately glared furiously toward the chime bells, only to see Yun Ye drunkenly smashing the bells with his wine cup.

The smile didn’t leave Li Er’s face, but cold light already flashed in his eyes. He jerked his chin toward Empress Zhangsun. Glancing over, she was so astonished her mouth wouldn’t close—the one striking the chime bells wasn’t just Yun Ye. The awakened Yan Zhitui was also smashing the bells with his wine cup…