In the Main Hall's Dining Room
At the head of the long banquet table sat Emperor Lan Fuyou, clad in silk robes embroidered with golden dragons. The fabric strained against his rotund frame, barely concealing the rolls of flesh beneath. Grease glistened on his thick fingers as he noisily chewed on a piece of cured jerky, his jaw working with unrestrained enthusiasm.
A consort hurried forward to refill his wine cup, and Lan Fuyou waved indulgently, his voice booming through the hall.
"Ah! To think we still have such feasts while the outside world crumbles! It is proof that fate favors the strong, is it not?" He raised his cup high and chugged it.
To his right, Consort Lu Meiying, his most favored, sat with impeccable posture, her slender fingers resting lightly on the edge of her untouched bowl.