Chapter Eighteen: The Grand Banquet of the Five Nations Alliance (Part One)

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In August, the Imperial Capital of Baixi Kingdom was more magnificent than ever, bustling with carriages and horses, teeming with unprecedented excitement. The entire realm was adorned with lanterns and banners to celebrate the grand alliance ceremony of the Five Kingdoms. Many commoners, unable to enter the palace for the festivities, flocked to the capital simply to hear the storytellers recount the day’s events.

The ceremony was held within the palace of Baixi Kingdom, attended only by the royal families, generals, and ministers of each nation. Additionally, ten storytellers were granted special permission to observe and later inform the populace.

Yet even so, the palace was a hive of voices. The strict guard limited everyone’s movements, and a clear edict stated: any foreign guest who stepped even half a foot into the inner palace would be executed.

On the first day of the lunar month, the Emperor and Empress of Baixi hosted a banquet for a hundred guests in the Hall of Supreme Joy, with drums and music resounding to welcome those arriving.

At the hour of Shen, the ceremonial master’s voice echoed throughout the hall:

“Second and Ninth Princes of the Northern Xiao Kingdom, arrive!”

“Fifth Prince of the Southern Sheng Kingdom, arrives!”

“Fourth Prince of the Western Ze Kingdom, arrives!”

“Second and Eighth Princes of the Eastern Ling Kingdom, arrive!”

“Sixth Prince of the Southern Sheng Kingdom, Third Prince of the Eastern Ling Kingdom, arrive!”

…

Once the princes, generals, and distinguished guests had taken their seats, the Emperor and Empress of Baixi entered the hall accompanied by the royal princes.

“We pay homage to Your Majesties,” all rose from their seats to offer their respects.

“Rise and be seated, all of you,” the Emperor, clad in a dazzling dragon robe, gestured with a flourish and took his place upon the gilded, dragon-carved throne, smiling as he spoke.

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At the banquet, the Emperor and Empress of Baixi, seated to the west and facing east, held the place of greatest honor. Next were the crown princes of the Five Kingdoms, seated to the north and facing south; then the princes, seated to the south facing north; and lastly, the generals of each nation, seated to the east facing west.

Seeing the northern-facing seat conspicuously empty, the Emperor of Baixi inquired, “Where is the Crown Prince?”

“Your Majesty, the Crown Prince is on his way and should arrive momentarily,” replied Changsun Chengjue, the Fourth Prince of Western Ze, stepping forward with a respectful salute.

“He is the Crown Prince of the Five Kingdoms and ought to set an example. Yet he is late—does he intend for the kings and princes gathered here to wait upon his grand arrival?” With a hint of mockery, Gu Nanyuan, Second Prince of Baixi, raised his golden goblet.

Before the words had faded, a clear voice rang through the hall: “The Crown Prince of the Five Kingdoms arrives!”

Changsun Chengmin, clad in crimson ceremonial robes, strode to Chengjue’s side under all eyes, cast a brief glance at Gu Nanyuan, and addressed the Emperor, “Chengmin is late.”

He was, after all, the Crown Prince of the Five Kingdoms. Since the day his status was established, aside from the five elder monarchs, all who met him must kneel. His ascension was for life, irrevocable.

Of course, if he chose, he could resign willingly.

“No matter. Crown Prince, take your seat,” the Emperor of Baixi, surveying all beneath heaven, narrowed his eyes and spoke slowly.

With the formalities completed, the banquet began.

Below, songs and dances flourished; courtesans in fluttering robes performed as bells and chimes sounded, filling the hall with melodious music. The strains of strings and flutes never ceased, goblets clinked, laughter and conversation flowed, and harmony reigned. The princes and generals exchanged pleasantries and toasts, feigning camaraderie.

Changsun Chengmin, half-reclining in his chair, gazed at the ornate beams and golden splendor of the Hall of Supreme Joy, at the amber wine and jade dishes… his lips curled in a faint smile.

Amidst such grandeur, he found it dull that Gu Qiuci was absent.

Gu Nanyuan, robust and muscular with sun-darkened skin, possessed thick, sword-like brows above cold, predatory eyes, his very aura chilling. His manner was coarse and arrogant, and Chengmin could not fathom why such a man received the Emperor’s singular favor.

Then, glancing at the dignified and elegant Empress of Baixi, he seemed to understand: it was love for the spouse that extended to the child.

Fuchen quietly took his seat beside Fuhua and, watching his aloof demeanor, asked in a low voice, “Fifth Brother, Father and Mother—are they well?”

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“Mm,” Fuhua replied, taking a shallow sip of wine. Upon reflection, it had been four or five years since he and Fuchen last met.

“I heard Father bestowed Master Bai’s daughter upon you, Fifth Brother. Allow me to offer a toast with Baixi’s wine in congratulations,” he said, motioning the serving maid to fill their cups and raising his glass to Fuhua.

Fuhua clinked his cup with Fuchen’s, then advised, “In the competition in a few days, don’t disgrace the Southern Sheng Kingdom.”

Fuchen’s smile froze; his stern brother could be blunt. “With you present, Fifth Brother, how could I let the kingdom lose face?”

With that, he returned to his seat.

“Fuchen, your brother is indeed more handsome than you, but he seems…” Wan Qi Shu whispered in his ear.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Fuchen pushed him away and scanned the hall, as if searching for someone.

Noticing this, Wan Qi Shu waved a hand before his eyes, “What are you looking for?”

“Remove your hand. I’m looking to see if General Mo has arrived.”

“You’re searching for the general among the princes? Ha! The generals are all seated over there,” Wan Qi Shu pointed toward the east-facing seats.

Fuchen followed his direction and indeed spotted Mo Zi Qiu, head bowed, drinking.

Just as he was about to seek out General Mo, Fuhua’s icy voice suddenly sounded in his ear, “Your Majesty, the Crown Prince is tardy—he must drink a full cup as penance.”