The Palace Banquet

Lang Huan worn a robe of deep indigo blue, its smooth and lustrous, catching the soft light as she moved. The robe, made of fine silk, had a rich and vibrant hue, reminiscent of the calmness of a midnight sky. The color was both serene and noble, embodying the poise and dignity of a man of high status.

The edges of the sleeves and collar were delicately embroidered with silver thread, forming subtle patterns of flowing clouds and abstract waves, their light shimmer adding an understated touch of grandeur to the robe.

At Lang Huan's waist, Su Qing fastened a jade pendant, its smooth surface a soft, pale green that contrasted beautifully with the deep blue of the robe. Su Qing gathered Lang Huan's dark hair, tied it into a neat topknot and placing a small silver crown. To complete the look, she placed a sleek headband around Lang Huan's forehead, matching the deep blue of her robe.

Su Qing looked at Lang Huan, her skin as white as jade, her lips thin and red. A blush crept up her cheeks. Fine clothes truly made a man, and she couldn't help but feel satisfied with her hard work.

Every piece of clothing and accessory Lang Huan wore had been custom-designed by Su Qing, with touches of Lang Huan's own ideas, which she considered fashionable. The fabrics and threads used were the finest available. Lang Huan never wore ready-made clothes from shops. Su Qing had truly spoiled her.

Before leaving, Su Qing gave Lang Huan an endless stream of advice. Her voice was calm but firm, cautioning Lang Huan to steer clear of palace conflicts, avoid entanglements with the Eldest Princess, and stay out of trouble.

Lang Huan nodded along, looking like the most obedient child in the world. "Yes, Mother. I understand. I'll be careful," she said, her face serious.

But the fact? The excitement bubbling in her chest about seeing the palace for the first time drowned out every word. Lang Huan had already forgotten most of it, the words flying in one ear and out the other like a breeze.

---

Lang Huan stepped through the towering gates of the Imperial Palace for the first time, her eyes immediately drawn to the grandeur that surrounded her. The palace grounds stretched endlessly, paved with white jade that shimmered faintly under the warm sunlight of autumn. Golden rooftops gleamed in the distance, their curved edges adorned with intricate carvings of dragons, symbols of imperial authority.

The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of dried leaves as the gentle breeze stirred them in soft, swirling patterns.

A young eunuch led Lang Huan through a long corridor, and finally, they arrived at a grand hall where the banquet was being held. Lang Huan had arrived late; by the time she entered, the banquet was already in full swing. The guests were seated inside, chatting and enjoying their meals.

As she stepped into the grand hall, the atmosphere shifted. Conversations quieted, and all eyes turned in her direction. The once-bustling room now felt charged with a palpable tension. Eyes filled with curiosity followed her—some guests exchanged subtle glances, silently wondering about her identity, while others stared with quiet interest, intrigued by her presence.

 Lang Huan stepped deeper into the hall, her gaze was immediately drawn to the Eldest Princess Zhao Yi. Even after encountering countless beautiful women in the modern era, none could compare to her presence.

How could such a breathtaking woman exist in this world? She looks like a goddess who has descended to earth...

Her bridge nose, a perfect curve that seemed sculpted with precision. Her almond-shaped eyes shimmered like deep pools. Her lips, thin and red as if kissed by the morning dew. Her eyebrows arched with a heroic fierceness. Her skin, flawless and pale as jade. She sat like a statue, calm and poised, her temperament noble and cold. The air around her was one of quiet command, and even in a room full of people, it was clear that she was the one who stood apart, untouched by the trivialities of those around her.

Lang Huan found herself momentarily frozen. Her eyes were locked on the Eldest Princess, unable to look away, as if some invisible force was drawing her in. This was Lang Huan's first time attending such a grand banquet, and the overwhelming atmosphere made her pulse quicken. Despite her training in etiquette, standing before the emperor and the Eldest Princess, surrounded by countless nobles, was an entirely different experience.

Lang Huan knelt on one knee and bowed deeply, her hands pressed together in a formal salute. "This humble subject, Ye Langhuan, son of the Duke of Huguo, greets Your Majesty and Your Highness. Long live Your Majesty and Your Highness."

The guests exchanged surprised looks. So this was Ye Langhuan, the son of the Duke of Huguo? She wasn't at all like the rumors had described. Instead of looking weak or sickly, she stood with confidence and was actually good-looking.

The Emperor's gaze lingered on Lang Huan for a moment longer, his expression unreadable beneath the weight of the crown. Then, with a faint nod, he lifted his hand in a gesture of acknowledgment.

"Rise."

Lang Huan noticed that the Emperor appeared sullen and in a foul mood. Choosing to tread carefully, she remained silent, offering only a polite greeting. Of course, only Feng Yao understood the true reason behind the Emperor's mood. From the very beginning, the Emperor had been against hosting the banquet at all. His real intention was to marry Feng Yao off to the Prince of Yan to curtail her growing influence.

Day by day, Feng Yao's loyalists in the court had been increasing in number, a development that clearly made the Emperor uneasy. However, fearing criticism from the nobles and officials, he had reluctantly agreed to hold the banquet to seek prince consort for the Eldest Princess.

Driven by impatience and desire, the Prince of Yan stepped forward. His eyes immediately locked onto Feng Yao, full of eager intensity, as if he couldn't wait any longer to make her his.

Prince of Yan knelt with his back straight and spoke in a clear, unwavering voice. "Your Majesty, Your Highness," he said, his gaze shifting confidently between the Emperor and the Eldest Princess Zhao Yi. "I, the Prince of Yan, humbly request Your Majesty's permission to propose for the hand of the Eldest Princess." His tone carried an air of certainty, as if he firmly believed himself to be the only worthy candidate for the position of prince consort.

Lang Huan, who had not yet taken her seat, found herself in an awkward position at the front of the hall. She never planned to be part of the competition, but with all eyes on her, she couldn't simply stand there in silence. What should she do? Should she take a seat? But no one had yet shown her where to sit, and the awkwardness of making her own choice in front of so many eyes left her feeling even more out of place. She cursed under her breath, silently regretting being late.

The Emperor's gaze lingered on her, sharp and calculating, as if he was trying to figure her out. Lang Huan grew suspicious. Then, a bold thought popped into her head—Was the Emperor secretly considering me as a candidate for prince consort? Her ego swelled at the idea, and for a moment, she almost found it amusing.

Meanwhile, the whispers in the hall grew louder. The guests were clearly intrigued, waiting to see what would happen next in this unexpected turn of events.

Before Lang Huan could even process what was happening, she found herself moving. The pressure was overwhelming, and without thinking, she cleared her throat softly, then knelt down and lowered herself into a respectful bow, instinctively copying the Prince of Yan's movements.

"Your Majesty, Your Highness," Lang Huan said in steady voice. "I, Ye Langhuan, son of the Duke of Huguo, humbly request Your Majesty's permission to propose for the hand of the Eldest Princess Zhao Yi."

Bang! Lang Huan felt like she had been struck by lightning. Had I really just said that out loud? I can't believe I actually dared to propose to the Eldest Princess.

At first, Lang Huan just wanted to go along for the fun, but now, she was horrified by what she had done. The Eldest Princess was undeniably breathtaking, but Lang Huan still valued her life—and she had no intention of dying over this!

Lang Huan naturally glanced at the Eldest Princess. When their eyes met, Feng Yao's expression remained distant, showing no emotion or preference. Lang Huan felt uneasy and quickly looked at the Emperor. Wait… why did the Emperor look even more displeased?

Doubt started creeping in. Had I just been overconfident? Maybe the Emperor had never even considered me as a candidate for the prince consort!

Now, Lang Huan wanted to slam her head against a wall and pass out.

"Uhh..." Lang Huan couldn't help but feel a shiver run down her spine as she met the gaze of the Prince of Yan. It felt as if he could kill her with a mere glance.

It was then that Lang Huan realized something wasn't right. The banquet invitations had been sent far and wide, supposedly attracting many candidates. Strangely, only the Prince of Yan had officially stepped forward with a marriage proposal. Why?

None of the noble sons dared to challenge the Prince of Yan, afraid of provoking him. The Yan Kingdom was known for its strong resources and military, and its close ties with the Emperor had made the Prince a figure to be reckoned with. Feng Yao, who had already anticipated the Prince of Yan's move, sat unmoving, her expression calm. But as Lang Huan stepped forward, she hadn't expected it.

The Emperor knew the show had to go on and turned to Feng Yao. His voice, firm and commanding, echoed through the hall. "Zhao Yi, it is time for you to present them with a challenge to prove their worth."

Feng Yao stepped forward between Prince Yan and Lang Huan—Crash! The door suddenly burst open. A group of assassins had snuck in!

Chaos erupted instantly. People screamed and scattered in panic. The assassins clad in dark clothing, advanced with deadly intent, heading straight for Prince of Yan and the Emperor. At the same time, some of them turned their blades on the guests, mercilessly cutting down anyone who stood in their way.

Feng Yao's private guards and the palace guards immediately sprang into action, their blades flashing as they clashed with the assassins. But the assassins were clearly stronger and more skilled, pushing back the guards with ease.

Without thinking, Lang Huan yanked Feng Yao into her arms, pulling her into a tight embrace. "Ah!" Feng Yao gasped, her eyes wide in disbelief. She struggled against Lang Huan, pushing hard, but Lang Huan's grip was unshakable.

"Let me go!" Feng Yao exclaimed with frustration.

"Wuwuwu, I'm so scared..." Lang Huan cried dramatically in Feng Yao's ear. She clung to Feng Yao even tighter, pulling her closer as if she were seeking protection.

Before Feng Yao could protest further, Lang Huan began dragging her to a safer spot, away from the chaos of the fight. Feng Yao's expression was a mixture of anger and confusion, while Lang Huan couldn't decide whether to cry or laugh at her own actions.

Feng Yao's face heated up, the blood rushing to her cheeks. She stiffened in surprise, trying to push Lang Huan away, but her grip was strong. "Lang Huan!" she shouted, trying to maintain composure. "What are you doing?!"

Lang Huan was quite pleased with her decision to cling to Feng Yao in this dangerous situation. After all, every palace guard would prioritize protecting the princess and the emperor above all else. Sticking close to Feng Yao was the safest move she could make.

Besides, if Lang Huan's hunch was right, this entire assassin plot might just be a scheme orchestrated by the Eldest Princess herself. The cunning princess had likely come up with this elaborate plan just to escape that unwanted marriage.

Although the assassins appeared ruthless, attacking without hesitation, their actions seemed more like an effort to scatter the guests rather than cause indiscriminate slaughter. Their true targets, it seemed, were none other than the Prince of Yan and the Emperor.

Lang Huan who was acting all frail and innocent, clutching Feng Yao's arm, clearly enjoying every moment of it. "I'm just scared for my life, my dear princess~" she teased, her voice syrupy sweet as she pressed herself even closer. The absurdity of the situation made her laugh inwardly.

Meanwhile, the palace guards were still in the middle of the fight with the assassins, oblivious to the little drama unfolding between the two women. Lang Huan had completely ignored the threat and instead found herself more entertained by Feng Yao's irritation than the danger.

The Emperor and the Prince of Yan, both unharmed, were swiftly escorted away by the Palace Shadow Guards. Their clothes were torn from the assassins' slashes, a clear sign of how close the danger had been. Though they hadn't suffered serious injuries, both were shaken to the core, their faces pale with fear.

The atmosphere in the banquet hall, still heavy with tension, gradually began to settle as the assassins were swiftly eliminated. Some of those who were captured were taken to prison to be interrogated, while others escaped. What was once a lively gathering had now emptied, leaving only a few people behind.

Lang Huan finally released Feng Yao from her embrace. The tension in the room eased, but Feng Yao's face was flushed with a mix of anger and embarrassment.

Feng Yao shot Lang Huan a look of pure disdain and, in her anger, said, "Your cowardice has disgraced the Duke of Huguo's honor."

Lang Huan, however, noticed that condescending stare and felt irritated after hearing that. No one had ever looked down on her so blatantly.

Without hesitation, Feng Yao took a step back and raised a hand, slapping Lang Huan across the cheek.

"How dare you!" Feng Yao's anger flared.

But Lang Huan, unbothered by the slap, slowly leaned in closer. She inched her face toward Feng Yao's, their noses nearly touching, as if she were trying to find something fascinating in the other's expression. With a sly, mischievous smile, Lang Huan sneered softly, her breath warm against the skin: "Your Highness, this assassin... It's Your Highness's plan, isn't it?"

Feng Yao's face darkened, and her expression turned cold as she grabbed Lang Huan's collar. But to her surprise, Lang Huan purposely threw herself into her arms.

"What nonsense are you talking about?" Feng Yao gritted her teeth. There was no trace of the flustered, embarrassed princess anymore—only the sharp, controlled demeanor of someone who had grown used to power and control.

Feng Yao's chest rose and fell sharply as she struggled to suppress the urge to slap Lang Huan again. She didn't want to hear any more of her nonsense and just wanted to shut her up. Taking a deep breath, she turned to Qiu Li, who had just returned from chasing the assassins.

"Take her away!" Feng Yao's voice was sharp.

Lang Huan blinked. "Hah? Wait, wait—what do you mean take me? I'm the Duke's son, you can't just—"

Before she could finish, Feng Yao's private guards stepped forward, grabbing her arms without hesitation.

"Hey! I didn't even do anything!" Lang Huan protested, twisting in their grip.

Feng Yao leaned in closer, her cold breath brushing against Lang Huan's ear. "You actually dare to tease me? Do you have a death wish?"

Lang Huan gulped. "It was just a joke!"

"Take her to the princess's mansion!"

Lang Huan struggled harder as they dragged her out. "Wait! Your Highness, can't we have tea first?"

The banquet ended in complete chaos. Before the Emperor could even announce his choice for the prince consort, the sudden attack had wiped all thoughts of marriage from his mind. General Wu reported that the group of assassins were mountain bandits seeking revenge on the Prince of Yan.

The Emperor, shaken and fearful, returned to Qianqing Palace to rest and immediately summoned General Wu to hunt down the remaining assassins. As for the Prince of Yan, the Emperor didn't even spare him a glance.

Prince Yan clenched his fists. He couldn't remember which mountain bandits he had offended, but it was possible. After all, he had always been malicious and done wicked deeds. The failed banquet and sudden assassination attempt had thrown his plans into disarray, but he wasn't one to give up easily.

You think this is over? Prince Yan smirked, though the edge of irritation tugged at his lip.

The Eldest Princess Zhao Yi will be mine. Sooner or later...