Chapter Nineteen: The Grand Banquet of a Hundred—The Ceremony of the Five Nations Alliance (Part Two)

Among the princes of the Five Kingdoms, Wan Qi Lu was renowned for his recklessness. Though still young, he possessed formidable strength. Thus, when the slightly stout prince spoke, those around him were left dumbfounded, unsure of how to react.

The Emperor of Baixi was momentarily at a loss, uncertain how to reply. This matter was neither trivial nor grave; handled well, all would rejoice, but if mismanaged, the reputations of the five emperors would suffer, and they would drown beneath a tide of scorn.

“The Crown Prince was merely delayed for a short while by affairs; Your Majesty has shown no displeasure, so why does the Eighth Prince make such a fuss?” Fu Hua gently swirled the wine in her cup and gazed at him.

At her words, the astute immediately grasped her meaning: Fu Hua was hinting that the Emperor tolerated or perhaps feared him.

Changsun Chengmin remained composed from start to finish, with music and dance continuing unabated in the hall, though no one dared raise their voice again.

Wan Qi Shu frowned. Although he understood little of court intrigue, seeing his younger brother stirring up trouble, he decisively stepped forward.

Smiling, he clasped his hands and said, “My brother means the Crown Prince was late, so he should drink a full cup as a penalty.”

“If that is so, then the Crown Prince should indeed be punished with a cup of wine.” Grateful for the opportunity to de-escalate, the Emperor of Baixi followed suit.

“Fill the cup to the brim!” Changsun Chengmin’s voice thundered, revealing no hint of joy or anger.

A graceful maid poured the wine from a jade vessel into his cup with utmost care.

Changsun Chengmin rose, cup in hand, and strode to the center of the hall. Halting the music and dance, he looked at Wan Qi Lu with a wry smile and said, “I am fondest of drinking penalty wine. The Eighth Prince has suited my taste.”

Then, turning to those present, he declared, “For my tardiness today, I deserve to be punished.” He drained the cup in one motion.

“Pour the wine! This first cup is in honor of His Majesty’s many years of wise governance, bringing peace and prosperity.”

“The second cup, to all present, for their diligent and devoted service to the king.”

He drained this cup as well.

“The third cup, to the eldest prince of Baixi, Gu Qiuci. If not for his selfless sacrifice, we would not be raising our cups in celebration today.” With these words, he poured the wine onto the floor.

The Emperor of Baixi was stunned at the mention. Seeing the others exchange silent glances, he laughed heartily, raising his own cup: “Let us drink! For the peace and flourishing of our era!”

In an instant, the previously anxious crowd broke into laughter and shouted, “Drink!”

Changsun Chengmin returned to his seat, and the music and dance resumed. Amidst the exchanging of cups, each harbored hidden thoughts, their minds clearly elsewhere.

Wan Qi Shu let out a long sigh, glancing at Wan Qi Lu, whose dissatisfaction was nearly written across his face, and handed him a piece of delicate, fragrant osmanthus cake. “The eighth month is when osmanthus blooms; this cake is sweet but not cloying—try it.”

Wan Qi Lu took the cake with a proud air and crushed it before Wan Qi Shu’s eyes.

Wan Qi Shu responded with a smile and said, “If you don’t like it, don’t eat it. Why waste it?”

He understood his brother’s temperament well, having been mocked often, and thus did not take offense. In other words, if a dog bites you, would you bite back? Even if you would, you’d be among the rare few.

“All these years, you’ve cared only for your own pleasure, forgetting you are a prince of the realm,” Wan Qi Lu sneered.

“I don’t understand the affairs of the state, but if I let you carry on like this today, you might not even realize when you’re being schemed against in the future.” He shrugged and snorted.

Wan Qi Shu truly cared little for other matters, but when it came to the interests of Dongling, he would never shirk responsibility and always stood up.

The banquet lasted until the hour of the dog; the hall was ablaze with light, as bright as day.

After the Emperor and Empress of Baixi departed, the guests, drunken and unsteady, left the hall with the help of palace attendants.

At that moment, the Hall of Supreme Joy was strewn with wine cups and plates, save for the maids and eunuchs cleaning up, only Changsun Chengmin and Fu Hua remained.

Fu Hua, entirely sober, walked straight to him, bent over, braced her hands on the table, and leaned in close, speaking in a voice so soft yet chilling, “He is still alive.”

A flash of surprise crossed Changsun Chengmin’s eyes, but he only smiled faintly, neither asking whom she referred to nor pressing further, as if understanding without words.

Once Fu Hua’s silhouette vanished, Changsun Chengmin finally rose and left.

After so many years, why did he still long to compete with Gu Qiuci?

Fu Hua pondered: Only by defeating Gu Qiuci would living in this world not be in vain.