Chapter 73: Return Feast

Three days later the palace held the return feast—a night banquet where civil and military officials brought their families. On the surface it was monarch and subjects rejoicing together; in truth everyone knew it was the Emperor's victory banquet for Shen Xin.
The Shen household held heavy power, with Shen Xin and Shen Qiu both fierce generals. Used well, they were Ming Qi's sharpest blade; used badly, they could threaten the man on the throne at any moment. The imperial house both relied on and guarded against the Shens. For now, with the outer provinces not yet pacified, the family was at least safe.
Any man in court with a brain could see that if the Shens did not blunder into the succession struggle, the throne would not move against them for ten years. Before that, Shen Miao's obsession with Prince Ding had made people think that if Shen Xin married his daughter to Fu Xiuyi, the Shen position at court would grow delicate. Lately Shen Miao's interest in Fu Xiuyi seemed to fade; the Shens need not be dragged into the succession storm, and for the next decade the name of the mighty general would still cow many in Dingjing.
Early that morning Luo Xueyan came to see Shen Miao. These past days she and Shen Xin had been digging into what had happened in the Shen residence over the past year. Those affairs had always been well concealed, and when you looked closely they were mostly trivial things—so they found nothing. Even so, Shen Xin and his wife had felt something wrong. Their manner toward Old Madam Shen and the other two branches had grown distant.
Shen Miao had not told Shen Xin and Luo Xueyan about Shen Qing losing her virtue; Ren Wanyun and Chen Ruoqiu would never speak of it themselves. Nanny Gui's death was brushed off with some excuse about unclean hands and dismissal from the house. Ren Wanyun had expected Shen Miao to tell the truth; instead Shen Miao went along with her story. Ren Wanyun decided the Fifth Miss must have some reason not to complain to her parents, and grew bolder still.
"The mistress's box has too few hairpins," Bailu said as she arranged Shen Miao's chang-le coiled bun. Shen Miao had grown thinner and was finally showing a young woman's grace; dressing her like the child she had been would look absurd. Today they were entering the palace—she ought to look dignified and proper. Before this, Shen Miao's jewelry had always been arranged by Ren Wanyun, mostly gold and silver. Those pieces had been spent like bank notes when Shen Miao bought Yanmei and Shuibi from Sanfu Class and paid Mo Qing to manage Physician Chen. Now the jewelry box was empty.
"Didn't the master bring His Majesty's rewards home yesterday?" Shuangjiang said. "Perhaps the young mistress could pick from those—the palace must have fine things."
"No need." Shen Miao refused at once. Which of those palace gifts was not stained with blood? She did not want them on her body; wearing them would only bring back those brutal years. She thought a moment, opened a hidden compartment in the box, and took out a hairpin.
"Oh, how beautiful!" Bailu exclaimed. "When did you get this, mistress? Did the madam give it?"
Shen Miao lifted the pin and studied it. On the day of the validation, in the plum grove, Xie Jingxing had traded this jade crabapple for the real blossom she wore in her hair. If Bailu had not mentioned the lack of jewelry, she might have forgotten it entirely.
The pin was carved entirely from jade, shading from pale to deep; at the flower the stone was a clear purple-red. The craftsman had worked wonders—the crabapple petals unfolded in full bloom with a sense of lavish splendor. Cool and smooth to the touch, it was clearly top-grade material. A piece like this was worth a thousand gold at least. In her past life Shen Miao had seen many fine things in the palace and knew at a glance this was no ordinary ornament. That made Xie Jingxing's generosity all the more surprising—even the Lin'an Marquis household, for all its wealth, could not afford to throw money away like this.
Seeing her lost in thought, Bailu feared they would be late. "Mistress, it's lovely—let me pin it for you."
Shen Miao came back to herself and let her.
When Shuangjiang had finally touched a little rouge to her cheeks, they were done. Guyu brought a lotus-blue cloak trimmed with rabbit fur and draped it over her shoulders. "You look beautiful, mistress. The madam will be pleased."
Outside, Luo Xueyan and Shen Xin waited at the door. Shen Qiu stripped a leaf from a branch. "Why won't Mother let Sister pick clothes and jewelry from the reward chest? Wouldn't that be easier?"
"What do you know?" Luo Xueyan said irritably. "Palace rewards are always fabric—when have you ever seen ready-made gowns? Even if there were, who knows whether some consort wore them? I wouldn't let Jiaojiao put them on. As for jewelry—let her wear what she likes. Best not to meddle."
Shen Miao had always loved gaudy dress, which gave Luo Xueyan headaches. No matter how she pleaded, Shen Miao would not give up gold and silver. In time Luo Xueyan had grown used to it. Looks are only painted skin—not to be trusted. Luo Xueyan came from a military family; though bold and beautiful herself, she dressed with a martial air, almost like a woman warrior.
Shen Qiu stuck out his tongue. "If Sister shows up glittering again—"
The door creaked open.
"S-Sister…" Shen Qiu's mouth hung open. He stared like a fool.
The girl wore a purple gauze skirt with emerald patterns, the lotus-blue rabbit-fur cloak piled soft at her throat, making her face seem no bigger than a palm. Her skin was fair; even in somber lotus blue she did not look dull—only more noble. Bright eyes and white teeth, yet her bearing was calm as clouds. She looked tenderly young, but what held the eye was a quiet dignity and gravity—a faint authority in every movement.
Luo Xueyan and Shen Xin stared as if, in one breath, they saw through this girl to the golden phoenix behind the palace walls—layer upon layer of court—and even that phoenix seemed lesser.
Because Shen Miao had always dressed in gold, this simplicity looked all the more costly, and that calm poise was something they had never seen in her before. Luo Xueyan pressed a hand to her chest. From the northwest desert, married into Dingjing, she had often been mocked by fine ladies here as crude and ignorant of etiquette. She had quietly hired tutors; she could learn the outer form, but not the refined grace of great houses at the bone—and had given up.
Now her daughter looked more noble and commanding than any young lady in Dingjing. How could she not be overjoyed?
"Hahaha!" Shen Xin broke the silence first, throwing his head back with a great laugh. When he looked at Shen Miao again, pride and warmth filled his eyes. "Our Shen girl has grown up—my Jiaojiao is a beauty now!" He spoke roughly; Luo Xueyan glared at him, then turned and saw the guards Shen Qiu had brought from camp staring at Shen Miao with the same stunned look. A flicker of satisfaction crossed her face. "Enough—into the carriage. We mustn't be late." She came over and took Shen Miao's hand, talking to her with easy affection.
Shen Miao was still unused to being treated like a child. When she saw the fond looks from her father and brother, she paused. In their eyes she was still Shen Jiaojiao.
Ren Wanyun noticed the crabapple pin and smiled. "Jiaojiao, that pin is lovely. Did you choose it yourself?"
Shen Miao murmured yes. At the door she saw two carriages already waiting.
Shen Gui and Shen Wan stood outside. When Shen Miao's party approached, their eyes turned awkward. These days Shen Xin had shown his brothers no goodwill and would not listen to explanations. Even the daily greeting to Old Madam Shen—Luo Xueyan went through the motions so carelessly she nearly made the old woman faint.
"Brother." Shen Wan, smoother by nature, greeted Shen Xin with a smile.
Shen Xin grunted from his nose and walked to his own carriage. "Wife, Jiaojiao—get in." He and Shen Qiu did not ride in carriages by habit; they would escort the coach on horseback.
So openly cold-shouldered, Shen Gui and Shen Wan lost face. Anger flashed in Shen Gui's eyes. The curtain of one of the other carriages lifted, showing Shen Yue and Chen Ruoqiu. Shen Yue said gently, "Fifth Sister, will you ride with us? The carriage is large enough—even with Aunt."
"No need." Luo Xueyan's face was ice. "Our own carriage—we sit easier."
Shen Miao nearly wanted to applaud. Before this, Luo Xueyan had no quarrel with the other branches; frank and warm by nature, no one had seen her this sharp. On the battlefield, facing enemies, Luo Xueyan was far less merciful. Chen Ruoqiu and Shen Yue's courtesy meant nothing to her.
In the other carriage, Shen Qing and Ren Wanyun listened to the exchange outside. Shen Qing's face was still pale. She gripped Ren Wanyun's hand so hard Ren Wanyun cried out softly; when Shen Qing let go, nail marks showed on her wrist.
Ren Wanyun had no mind for her own hand. She pulled Shen Qing into her arms and felt the girl trembling.
"Qing'er…" she whispered.
"I have to kill her…" Shen Qing said through clenched teeth. Her mind had cleared; she remembered that terrible night at Wolong Temple—and Shen Miao was to blame for all of it. Worse, she was with child now, and the baby could not be lost or she might never bear again. Thinking of what she had suffered, Shen Qing wanted Shen Miao to feel the same pain—no, ten times worse.
"Mother will avenge you…" Ren Wanyun's heart was flayed. She wished she could become a wolf and tear Shen Miao's throat out. Shen Qing's weeping was a knife in her chest—and every time she looked at her daughter she remembered that night when she had been in the next room and chosen to stand aside.
"I will avenge Qing'er…" Ren Wanyun murmured.
In yet another carriage, Shen Yue and Chen Ruoqiu sat facing each other. Shen Yue was still displeased by Luo Xueyan's rebuke. In her bones she looked down on crude military folk; to be mocked by the very sort she despised left her fuming.
"Yue'er," Chen Ruoqiu said with a slight frown, "how many times have I told you—people like that are not worth your notice. Why lose your composure over them?"
"Mother, I simply can't stand it." Shen Yue looked at her palms. "Shen Miao used to treat us with perfect respect. Now that Uncle's branch is back, she puts on this proud air—riding on their power, showing off for us—isn't that what it is?" Her words carried a jealousy she did not fully admit.
Chen Ruoqiu caught it. She looked at her tall, graceful daughter and sighed. "I taught you to keep calm no matter what. You're still young—too impatient, too eager. You needn't make Shen Miao so important. First and second branch are deadlocked now. Shen Miao offended your second aunt; your second aunt will have to answer that."
"But these past days Second Aunt hasn't done anything to Shen Miao," Shen Yue said.
Chen Ruoqiu paused. It was true. Ren Wanyun had been at Shen Miao for a long time yet gained nothing—every trap had backfired—and now Shen Xin was back. Ren Wanyun, sharp and seasoned, who had tamed concubines in the inner house without effort, could not best a girl. That was uncanny.
After a moment Chen Ruoqiu set her surprise aside. "Precisely because she has failed again and again, her temper is near breaking. When she moves against Shen Miao next, she will risk everything. Even with your uncle protecting her, Shen Miao may not escape."
Shen Yue listened in a daze, then seemed to understand. "So we only need sit and watch the play."
"Exactly," Chen Ruoqiu said. "That is what I mean to teach you. In the inner house, move as little as you can. Use others to reach your goal—never step forward yourself if you can help it. Used well, you gain without lifting a finger."
"Thank you, Mother." Shen Yue straightened. "I understand."
They talked on, pleased with themselves, never noticing Luo Xueyan's carriage had long since left them behind. Shen Qiu and Shen Xin rode high on their horses; along the road common people who recognized them looked on with respect. The mighty general's fame had spread wide among the people.
In the carriage Luo Xueyan kept smiling at Shen Miao. Even Shen Miao, steady as she was, found it slightly baffling.
"Jiaojiao, you're truly beautiful now," Luo Xueyan said. "A year away and you've become a young lady. In all Dingjing, I doubt anyone compares."
Luo Xueyan's speech was always forceful; from anyone else such words would sound absurd. But parents see their children as the finest—and Luo Xueyan's nature was fierce. Shen Miao now looked calm and noble; people always prize what they lack themselves. Naturally Luo Xueyan loved this daughter who had suddenly grown willing to be close to them as if she were treasure.
Shen Miao smiled faintly. Perhaps only family could be proud of her—the girl everyone else called a rough block.
"Your father and I spoke last night," Luo Xueyan changed subject. "Your idea that he stay in Dingjing half a year more—that's a good one. We're away from home so long; we ought to be with you. When His Majesty asks today, your father will request it."
Shen Miao was startled. She had expected Shen Xin to agree eventually—not this quickly. Before she could answer, Luo Xueyan had her in an embrace. "Half a year—I can watch Jiaojiao grow."
Luo Xueyan was terrifying to her enemies and tender with Shen Miao; her old foes would have dropped their jaws.
"Thank you, Mother." Shen Miao leaned against her and spoke softly.
Tonight's feast at the palace gates was no simple victory banquet. Danger lurked in it. Masters would match wits; everyone wanted to checkmate the other. Boards were set, pieces buried—waiting for the trap to spring.
For her, something mattered more. The place that had bound her for a lifetime in her past life—where her children and kin were buried, where enemies and slaughter filled every corner—the ninefold palace. She was going back at last.
Emperor Wenhui, the Fu clan, and the old ghosts of the deep palace—when they met again, who would live and who would die was not yet known. The corner of her mouth curved slightly. Deep in her clear eyes a dark point swirled like a vortex, slowly raising a black storm.
……
The ninefold palace rose vast and bright—glazed tiles, carved lacquer, golden dragons coiled, painted phoenixes wheeling. Gold on gold, light on light—and cold, and bleak.
Brightness was only skin-deep. Like rich soil under lavish flowers, the depths of the palace buried countless white bones. Beauties without number ended as faded bones. However lovely the halls looked, however cruel they were within.
In the garden a maid and a eunuch watered flowers—dull work assigned to newcomers. Both looked barely sixteen, still very young.
The maid said, "So many people at the front hall today. If I hadn't been demoted for a mistake, I'd be serving the nobles. You know, at the return feast every year—the tips alone could last a year."
"Return feast…" The little eunuch looked wistful. "So many tips—is it that grand?"
"You're so ignorant." The maid curled her lip. "The return feast is what His Majesty holds to honor the mighty general. Great officials and their ladies—all generous. Wait a few years. With luck you might see one. Then you'll know—they give silver by the ingot."
"By the ingot?" The eunuch gasped, then sighed with envy. "The mighty general has face indeed—the Emperor holds a night feast just for him. He must be riding the crest."
"What's glory worth," the maid said disdainfully, "when he has that rough block of a daughter? Lucky if she doesn't disgrace him—what wind is there to ride?"
"Rough block?" the eunuch asked. "The general's daughter?"
"You don't know." The maid lowered her voice mysteriously. "General Shen is heroic; Lady Shen is a woman warrior; Young Deputy Shen fights like a demon—but the general's daughter is a true rough block. No zither, chess, calligraphy, or painting—and she loves gold and gaudy dress, vulgar as can be. Every return feast the general brings her she makes a fool of herself. Last year I was serving—you should have seen it. She didn't even know basic courtesy and tripped on her skirt and rolled down the steps. All the ladies love to mock her. Even with the Shen name behind her, nobody respects the Fifth Miss."
"Truly…" The eunuch sighed. "A shame to the Shen name."
"Exactly," the maid went on. "She's the blot on the family—and her two cousins are each more polished. The general's face is lost because of her. And before this she was mad for Prince Ding—everyone in court knew."
"A coarse woman indeed." Disgust showed in the eunuch's eyes.
The maid lived in the palace day in and day out. Unlike ladies who could leave, her news came from inside the walls. She had no idea Shen Miao had cleared her rough reputation at the validation ground.
As they spoke, someone approached from the opposite path. They bent to their work and fell silent. A sharp voice said at their ear, "New arrivals?"
"Yes, Lord Gao," someone answered nearby.
The little eunuch dared a glance upward. Three men stood before him—one in chief eunuch's dress, another in second rank. The one addressed as Lord Gao wore the chief's robes.
Lord Gao scanned them both, his gaze settling on the eunuch. "Name?"
"Your servant Xiao Li, Lord." The boy was quick and respectful.
"Him, then." Lord Gao said to the man beside him. "We're one short to pour wine at the front feast. He looks clever enough—might please the nobles. Put him on."
"Yes, Lord."
Xiao Li's heart leapt. Wouldn't that mean ingots of silver, as the maid said? If some master took a liking to him, perhaps fortune would follow.
In the ninefold palace everyone clawed upward—even the lowest slave dreamed of rising overnight.
……
In the front hall many ladies and young misses had already arrived. Those with ties to palace consorts were invited to the inner quarters to speak with the imperial women; most of the ladies sat outside chatting.
"Why aren't Lady Shen and the general here yet?" A high-cheekboned lady laughed. "Tonight they're the main show—are they deliberately late?"
"Lady Shen wants to hide her daughter from us—that's why." A round-faced lady smiled, but her tone was pure mockery.
Shen Xin, a general of great merit who took no concubines and loved Luo Xueyan faithfully, sat among ladies whose households swarmed with secondary wives and endless mess. They envied Luo Xueyan bitterly—beloved husband, outstanding son. Women love to compare; the happier Luo Xueyan looked, the more it stung. They wished her some flaw. Shen Miao was that flaw— stupid, talentless, plain, a yearly embarrassment in the palace. Watching Shen Xin and his wife shamed over their daughter seemed to give them some secret profit.
"I wonder what the Fifth Miss will wear this year," Yi Peilan said with a mocking smile. "Last year those gold-leaf robes with her gold jewelry were so very 'noble.' Silver leaf this year, perhaps?"
Laughter and barbed remarks spread at once.
Then a clear young voice cut in: "Don't speak so, everyone. The Fifth Miss has her father's true teaching now. At the validation she shot in the walking archery—Young Master Cai had no answer. If she's displeased, who knows—perhaps she'll ask you ladies for a lesson in the bow?"
The hall went still. Many here had seen Shen Miao's ferocity that day. The words sent an involuntary chill through them—if she did not spare Cai Lin, what if she drew on them?
The speaker was Feng Anning. Feng's mother gave her a disapproving look—offending so many ladies at once was unwise. Anning wrinkled her nose. She hated gossip behind someone's back. Before Shen Xin these same women would crawl; only in secret did they dare slander his daughter.
The awkward silence had not yet cleared when a eunuch cried at the door: "The Mighty General Shen—"
Every eye turned.
Shen Xin and Shen Qiu entered first. Shen Xin walked like a tiger, awe in his bearing without anger—a soldier's iron breath that made the ladies shrink. Shen Qiu stood straight, smile warm, shallow dimples making him approachable. More than one young girl flushed.
They did not pause in the outer hall but angled toward the main hall where the men gathered. Naturally every gaze shifted to those behind them.
Luo Xueyan wore a sky-blue belted soft-armor robe, hair in a sharp warrior's knot. Unlike the ladies in heavy paint, her dress was clean and simple—yet the cloth and cut were fine enough that she did not look crude. Her bright eyes moved with bold spirit—a beauty unlike ordinary wives.
Close behind her, a slender figure in purple, step by step.