At the Moon Palace’s New Year’s Eve banquet, though the Emperor allowed nobles and high officials to bring their families, after entering the side hall, Mo Zi discovered there were far fewer female family members than she’d expected, and they were mainly young women.

Her steps paused. The palace maid seemed to know her thoughts and said tonight’s guests were carefully selected by His Majesty—all extremely noble and prominent princes, dukes, generals, and ministers. But they also had New Year’s reunion dinners in their own residences, so many wives couldn’t conveniently come along. Instead, the Empress Dowager personally selected seven or eight noble young ladies, plus the county princesses from the six great princely mansions. When the banquet began shortly, His Majesty, ministers, and envoys from the two nations would be in the main hall, while the Empress Dowager and Empress would be with the noble ladies and madams in the side hall, separated by a pearl curtain.

Another palace maid smiled and said, “Among those His Majesty personally summoned, besides Miss Mingrou from Prince Jing’s mansion, there’s Miss Mo Zi. Why not seat you two next to each other as companions?”

Hearing this, Mo Zi quickly waved her hands. “You two elder sisters flatter me too much. I came with my elder brother to join the festivities—I haven’t even met His Majesty. This token was lent to me by my brother’s superior who saw I loved to play and feared my brother would be restrictive—just for one evening. Sisters must help me keep this secret, lest I implicate His Excellency. My elder brother is merely a fourth-rank official. Our parents passed away early, we have no relatives or clan. I really can’t be compared with those county princesses and young ladies over there. Sisters are kind-hearted—just arrange the most remote, least conspicuous seat for me. I’ll just wait to eat and then go stroll the gardens.” This explanation really couldn’t be considered lying.

The two palace maids rarely encountered such an approachable young lady. They smiled at each other and arranged for her the table nearest the door. A large red pillar blocked most people’s view. Though right behind her was a pearl curtain entering the main hall, she faced away from it, and those coming and going were mostly palace maids and eunuchs.

In fact, this kind of position was also called a cold table. Those who knew didn’t want to sit there. But tonight, wonderfully, someone took it and looked quite happy about it.

But regardless, following someone’s instructions, the two of them sat down, attending at her side.

Mo Zi thought she was the latest, but unexpectedly, more women arrived afterward, each with greater pomp than the last. Maidservants ranged from three or four to seven or eight per person.

The palace maid behind her softly announced a string of names—either legitimate eldest daughters of certain aristocratic families or legitimate daughters-in-law of certain dukes and marquises. Xiao Mingrou was among them.

Mo Zi noticed that when Xiao Mingrou entered, almost every woman in the hall looked at her. Most with envy. Undoubtedly, her beauty was graceful and noble, her every gesture gentle as water. Her movements dignified, her sitting posture charming—completely matching the temperament and spiritual essence of imperial family members. The Xiao family hoped she could enter the palace as a consort, and probably palace people thought so too. Therefore, when speaking of Xiao Mingrou, the palace maids showed solemn respect.

Xiao Mingrou brought four head maids. Two were from the Princess Consort’s side—Mo Zi had some impression of them.

“The one entering now is County Princess Wu Youyan of Qingchi,” the palace maid said.

This name, Mo Zi remembered. Though she was a county princess, she was also the innocent little rabbit in the trap Yuan Cheng set for Huo Ba. She immediately looked over.

A palm-sized small face, bright eyes and cherry lips, snow-white skin and rosy cheeks—her expression utterly lively as she looked around. Her hair piled in spiral coils, a hollow gold crown threaded with gold wire carved peonies in bloom, wearing an eight-treasure colored-feather morning-glow robe. Her shoes inlaid with blue and red pearls. Wide sleeves caught the wind, and one could hear gold striking jade, crisp and pleasant.

If this county princess had dressed like this when going to Wangqiu Tower that day, even if Huo Ba were utterly bewitched, he wouldn’t have approached to molest her. While Mo Zi thought this, she watched Wu Youyan sit at Xiao Mingrou’s upper seat. Smiling and chatting with Xiao Mingrou, they were clearly familiar.

Mo Zi hadn’t lived in Prince Jing’s mansion more than a few days, so naturally didn’t know these two were close friends who frequently visited.

After Wu Youyan entered, the hall door was lowered with wind curtains. Then the Empress Dowager and Empress, leading Princess Anming and Princess Changming, took the main seats. Everyone in the hall performed the kowtow ceremony. The music hall started zither and flute sounds. Palace maids serving food began bringing in wine and dishes. Finally they could eat the New Year’s Eve dinner.

Mo Zi had chosen this table too well. The national grandmother and national mother at that end of the side hall didn’t glance her way at all. Others were even less interested in her as she buried her head concentrating on eating, busy laughing and chatting with the highest leadership.

Mo Zi planned it this way—finish eating early, slip out early. The longer she stayed in this place, the more boring it felt.

But heaven wouldn’t let her feel bored.

When she’d eaten about seventy or eighty percent full, someone in the main hall, separated by a curtain, said something in an extremely resonant voice that silenced all the women in the side hall.

“First, thank His Majesty for setting this New Year’s Eve dinner to comfort our homesickness. The wine is our hometown wine, the dishes our hometown dishes. However, our Great Qiu’s New Year’s Eve banquet is truly not this dull.” Great Qiu—every one of them was a troublemaker. If they didn’t stir up trouble, they couldn’t survive.

“Oh?” “Lord Huang’s” voice. “How does Great Qiu eat their New Year’s Eve dinner?”

“Never mind other things—men and women celebrate in the same hall. Husbands on the left, wives on the right. Unmarried men left, unmarried women right. I know Great Zhou’s rites and teachings are strict, but ordinarily it’s already excessively restrained—why not relax on the year’s last day? Our Great Qiu has fine men and fine daughters. Capable daughters, like our Royal Consort Xiang, constantly attend the king’s side, helping manage state affairs. Great Zhou’s founding was by an Empress, yet now everywhere women are restricted—truly the human heart isn’t what it once was.” The Great Qiu envoy’s voice had some years on it, but the tone was forceful.

Speaking of offense—very offensive. Speaking of rudeness—very rude. But was there truth in it?

Mo Zi had to admit, objectively speaking, these words suited her sentiments. But this old man was speaking empty words. Though Great Qiu women suffered somewhat fewer restrictions than Great Zhou’s, favoring sons over daughters was very common. He said Consort Xiang participated in politics? The Great Qiu King couldn’t possibly allow it. Because he was very authoritarian, very dictatorial—he wouldn’t let a woman sway his decisions. Privately, perhaps he’d listen to a woman’s suggestions, but absolutely not in public. As for the so-called celebrating together in the same hall, that was complete nonsense. The Queen might sit at the King’s lower seat, but other women weren’t allowed to face ministers directly.

If she remembered correctly, this voice belonged to the Kena family’s patriarch, also Great Qiu’s current Grand State Preceptor, Kena Zhendi. Consort Xiang was his most beloved youngest daughter, also her Song Mo Zi’s former close friend—Kena Yuexiang.

Ye’er had said if she didn’t return, the position beside the King would be taken by her.

That “her” was Yuexiang, Xiang’er.

Now hearing the title “Consort Xiang” again, Mo Zi felt calm. She’d known long ago about Xiang’er’s feelings for Wu Yan. Though the moment she’d learned, the blow was devastating, making her finally decide to give up Wu Yan. At that time, she’d found these two people disgusting to the extreme. Her own best friend sleeping with her boyfriend—one of modern times’ most melodramatic events. Her denunciation before these two was regarded as light as dust.

One said: I like Wu Yan, but it doesn’t affect the feelings between you two. I’ll marry him as a consort—he’ll have many more consorts, but the position of Queen will only be given to you. You’ll become Great Qiu’s most honored woman, plus have his unique deep affection—why be so petty? I only seek a little bit of his tenderness. You and I as sisters working together, helping him unite the great enterprise—a future story for the ages. Why must you be a jealous woman people will curse?

One said: She’s Grand State Preceptor Kena’s beloved daughter, the primary consort my royal father and mother chose for me. Now for your sake, I’ll only take her as a consort. What are you angry about? She and you are close as sisters—she won’t harbor evil intentions because I favor only you. She understands power tactics better than you, and has the Kena family backing her. I’ll borrow her to help you manage the harem. You and I will govern the realm together—why not?

That final meeting, three people confronting each other—those two’s words still rang in her ears. She’d once been impassioned, wailing in grief. But now, only one sincere statement: Wu Yan and Yuexiang, a match made in heaven!

“I’ve long heard Great Qiu women are passionate and unrestrained, with few who don’t know horsemanship and archery. Hearing Lord Kena speak, I truly want to witness it.” Wu Jian raised his voice.

Mo Zi suddenly awakened from the past, silently cursing Wu Jian as a flattering little person.

“What difficulty is there in that? Our Great Qiu came this time carrying ten thousand parts sincerity, bringing ten noble daughters skilled in riding and archery to Great Zhou to study customs and culture. They’re unwilling to be relegated to a side hall and are waiting in the snow to enter the main hall and celebrate the new spring together. I’ve observed Great Zhou’s etiquette, remaining silent until the banquet was half over. Now I presumptuously request His Majesty permit them to celebrate this New Year according to Great Qiu’s customs.” Kena advanced and retreated appropriately.

If the previous Great Qiu envoy encountered was an unenlightened mule, then Grand State Preceptor Kena was Great Qiu’s finest thousand-mile steed. Through the pearl curtain, Mo Zi saw his sturdy figure standing straight as a pine, somewhat puzzled. She’d thought this peace talk was merely Great Qiu’s delaying tactic—unexpectedly they’d sent Kena. Clearly insincere, yet producing a major act—what was the purpose?

“How can we let guests who’ve traveled far celebrate the New Year in heavy snow? Very well, let’s change convention for tonight’s second half. Quickly invite the young ladies into the main hall.” After the Emperor’s side finished speaking, through the curtain he asked the Empress Dowager, “Imperial Mother, why not have someone remove the pearl curtain and merge together for liveliness—acceptable?”

The Empress Dowager frowned, weighing pros and cons, finally nodding. “Only, our Great Zhou women value reputation most. I hope everyone in the main hall speaks and acts prudently, absolutely no impropriety or vulgarity.”

Voices of agreement sounded throughout the main hall.

However, probably no one from Great Qiu or Nande would echo this. Though Great Zhou was the strongest nation, it had no master-subject relationship with the other three kingdoms. Great Qiu was an aggressive guest. Their respect for the Great Zhou Emperor was courtesy; cursing a couple times was arrogance. Could Great Zhou condemn them? Yes. The two nations would go to war.

The curtains were removed, a hundred glazed lamps added, tables rearranged, and five more table settings added before the hall.

The refined ladies and madams of Great Zhou weren’t yet accustomed to facing so many men. Mo Zi’s position still dangled at the tail end. Before she could feel fortunate, everyone heard drumbeats—thump, thump—approaching from far to near.

Ten young women wearing bright red gauze robes with jeweled hair braids danced lightly in. Their slender white heavenly feet wore no shoes. Each held a hand drum and thin mallet, beating in perfect unison. The mallets had tassels—following the young women’s movements, they revealed a profusion of colorful flower shadows.

The drumbeats suddenly quickened, like horse hooves shattering glaciers. The barefoot young women rushed to the hall’s center, leaping and flipping like clusters of flaming meteors.

The drumbeats abruptly stopped. The most beautiful among the young women soared into the air. Her gauze robe flew like clouds and morning glow. Beneath the bright gauze was actually a peacock robe that spread like a peacock’s display upon landing. With a twist of her hands, the drumhead fell away, revealing from inside a palm-sized brocade box. Opening it—two phoenix stones the size of pigeon eggs, purple light like needles.

“This dance was personally taught by our Great Qiu’s Consort Xiang. This treasure was personally selected by our Great Qiu King to congratulate His Majesty on an auspicious new spring—advancing straight ahead with drumbeats, flowers blooming in eternal spring.”

After she proclaimed this loudly, all the women clapped their hands toward the sky once. The tassels scattered, mixed with refreshing snowflakes, falling to the ground in fragrant flowers.

Truly—beautiful beyond wanting to blink.