The Imperial Household believed that the Emperor disliked coarse meats like beef and mutton, hinting that there were still delicate dishes such as fish sashimi on the menu.
Wen Yanran: “…”
Fish sashimi, also known as raw fish slices. Although it was the depths of winter, the fish delivered to the Taiqi Palace were freshly caught from the river.
Wen Yanran felt it was right for her to pay attention to life’s details. Had she not taken that extra glance, she would likely have fallen victim to the poor hygiene standards of the time. As a transmigrator, Wen Yanran had zero trust in the Imperial Household’s ability to handle ingredients. She immediately rejected this imperial dish, potentially teeming with parasites, ensuring her path to becoming a tyrant wouldn’t be cut short by subpar food quality.
She also roughly understood why emperors in history often had short lifespans -serving raw fish slices at a palace banquet? Why not just mix poison into the rice and call it a day?
Wen Yanran handed the adjusted menu back to the Imperial Household and, noticing the official’s anxious expression, softened her tone slightly. She encouraged him to spend more freely within permissible limits to further research on stir-frying techniques. Considering the high cost of spices in this era, she also suggested adding more of them when cooking beef and mutton.
Having been admonished several times before, the steward obediently carried out the order. Normally, as an inner official who solely followed the Emperor’s commands, he would never dare disclose matters of the inner court. However, the menu for the evening banquet was not something that needed to be kept secret. After thorough discussions between the chief steward and his subordinates, Wen Yanran’s reputation began to shift – unnecessarily, in her view – toward an image of frugality.
Many of those qualified to attend the New Year’s banquet in the Qianyuan Hall were veteran officials who had served since the reign of the tyrannical previous emperor. All of them now keenly felt the changes that had taken place in the palace since the new emperor’s accession.
The previous emperor had been fond of music and dance, particularly of the more frivolous kind, whereas the current sovereign showed little interest in such entertainments, clearly embodying the qualities of a proper and enlightened ruler. Scholars and officials had long criticized the inner officials of the Imperial Household for their tendency to flatter and curry favor, yet such efforts succeeded only because the emperor themselves indulged in them. Under the new emperor, the palace’s music and dance immediately took on a more solemn and dignified character.
In truth, this was not entirely Wen Yanran’s deliberate doing. She had little appreciation for the court music of the Great Zhou dynasty. No matter how much modern education systems emphasized well-rounded development or increased the focus on arts and music, they could not instill in her a refined aesthetic for instruments like bronze chimes. Moreover, when the Imperial Household attempted to align with the Emperor’s preferences, they completely misjudged their leader’s intentions…
The former rulers of the Great Zhou had governed with benevolence and virtue, extending their grace to all corners of the land. On festivals celebrated across the realm, they permitted envoys from minority tribes in the border regions to attend court banquets. The chief envoys of these tribes were seated relatively close to the front, while deputy envoys and guards followed behind. Behind the chief envoy of the Wuliu Tribe sat a young man dressed in Great Zhou attire, yet with pierced ears adorned with rings, and his face and arms painted with oil patterns.
He was not a guard but Wugeqi, the half-brother of the Wuliu chieftain, Wu She.
Wu Geqi looked at the dishes before him and took a small, restrained bite.
The food of the Central Plains was, as expected, unimaginably delicious to people from the borderlands like them.
Although the Wuliu Tribe had effectively established their own state, with a population comparable to that of a large prefecture in Great Zhou, even nobles among the Wuliu rarely tasted such exquisite cuisine.
Yet, from the conversations of the Central Plains people around him, he learned that today’s dishes could not be considered luxurious at all – instead, they were described as modest and simple.
Modest and simple…
Wu Geqi took a deep breath, feeling a peculiar emotion welling up in his chest.
As a borderfolk, they naturally dared not contend with the Great Zhou. Moreover, Wu Geqi had seen the Imperial Guards – those tall, straight-backed soldiers mounted on equally majestic steeds, their armor gleaming, each equipped with sharp steel blades and long spears. Such a level of equipment was something the Wuliu Tribe could scarcely hope to match even a hundred years later.
As Wu Geqi absorbed the bustling scene around him, he suddenly narrowed his eyes slightly.
Though his journey to the Great Zhou had made him keenly aware of the nation’s power, it had also allowed him to clearly perceive its decline.
The Wuliu Tribe had a total population of less than a million, yet it was already riddled with internal factions. The upper echelons were corrupt, the common people suffered in poverty – the list of problems went on. As for the Great Zhou, its population was larger, its territory vaster, and its contradictions even more severe than those of the Wuliu Tribe.
As for Wu Geqi himself, though he was the biological son of the former Wuliu chieftain, his birth mother was merely a lowly shepherdess in the tribe. In his youth, he was often treated as a servant by his elder brothers. It was only after he grew up – robust, tall, capable in handling affairs, and skilled at currying favor with his brother who had become the chieftain – that he gained a certain status.
His complex experiences gave him a deeper understanding of the tribe’s issues.
The Central Plains had far too many outstanding talents, and each had their own ambitions. From what Wu Geqi had observed, the children of noble families had an extremely high ceiling but also an extremely low floor. He himself had encountered quite a few aristocrats who were utterly incompetent in every way yet still managed to become local officials.
What made Wu Geqi even more convinced that there was an opportunity to exploit was the fact that the new emperor of the Great Zhou was only in her teens – not even old enough to tie her hair in a crown. He had previously read books from the Central Plains and knew there was a phrase: “A young ruler casts doubt on the state.”
For the Wuliu Tribe, where internal conflicts were growing increasingly severe, this was perhaps the best opportunity. He did not expect to defeat the behemoth before him, but he could certainly take advantage of its internal turmoil to gain some benefits.
Wu Geqi had been sitting still, lost in thought, but now, his mind burning with ambition, he found it hard to contain his excitement. He raised the wine cup before him and took a large gulp, trying to suppress his surging emotions.
After all, it was the New Year season. Even a palace banquet would not impose too many restrictions on the guests. Court officials toasted one another, chatting and laughing continuously, while the young emperor personally poured a cup of wine for the Court Architect Yuan, who had declined the position of Grand Tutor, wishing him good health.
During the New Year festivities, Wen Yanran was dressed in ceremonial robes that highlighted her status as the sovereign. Seated high upon the throne, her face was partially obscured by the beaded strings of the imperial crown, making it difficult for others to discern her expression. Yet, from her elevated position, she could observe every detail in the hall with a commanding view.
Leaning against the desk, she suddenly recalled what her teacher had once said before her transmigration: no matter how discreet the students thought they were being, anyone standing at the front of the class could see every little move clearly from that height. Back then, Wen Yanran hadn’t fully grasped the truth of those words – but now, as her gaze swept across the hall, she realized just how valuable her teacher’s personal experience had been.
Adjusting her posture slightly, she leaned closer to Chi Yi and asked in a low voice, “Which tribe do those people seated over there belong to?”
Chi Yi, who was always by the Emperor’s side, was highly skilled at discerning her ruler’s thoughts. Without needing a closer look, she immediately understood exactly whom the emperor was referring to.
“That is the seating area for the Wuliu Tribe. The person who drank just now should be a guard accompanying the tribal envoy.”
In certain branching storylines, Chi Yi could become a powerful minister controlling state affairs, clearly demonstrating her keen eye for detail.
Wen Yanran couldn’t help but smile faintly. “So even a mere guard can be so deeply lost in thought? It seems I have underestimated the talents of the world.”
Chi Yi understood the emperor’s implication. The borderlands were harsh and impoverished, and when envoys from there arrived at the Taiqi Palace, they were often overwhelmed by the opulence around them. As a result, they either behaved timidly or indulged themselves in eating and drinking without restraint. However, the “guard of the Wuliu Tribe envoy” remained silent and still at first, then suddenly drank a cup of wine in haste, as if deliberately suppressing something. Clearly, the scene before him had sparked some reflection in his mind.
It wasn’t that Chi Yi looked down on the border tribes, but in this era, educational resources were monopolized by powerful aristocratic families. Even people from the Central Plains found it difficult to pursue studies, let alone those from foreign tribes. In some smaller tribes, it was possible that not a single truly insightful person could be found from top to bottom. Yet, this guard was actually deep in thought right in the Qianyuan Hall of the Taiqi Palace. Regardless of what he was pondering, it did not quite match his apparent identity.
Wen Yanran glanced once more toward the Wuliu Tribe delegation through the beaded strings of her crown.
The chief and deputy envoys were eating and drinking heartily, clearly enjoying the banquet. Given the low status of border tribes, they dared not behave improperly in the hall for fear of offending the nobles of Great Zhou. Yet, judging by the frequency with which they reached for their chopsticks, they were evidently quite pleased with the food.
As for the young “guard,” his seat was on the periphery, hidden among the attendants. Under normal circumstances, he would not easily draw attention, and in a moment of forgetfulness, his demeanor had inadvertently revealed traces of his inner thoughts.
Wen Yanran, having nothing better to do, habitually pondered the background of the young man. The chief envoy of the Wuliu Tribe was indulging himself without a care, clearly not regarding the “guard” behind him as significant. Meanwhile, the “guard” himself seemed equally unconcerned about the tribal envoy in front of him.
She speculated that perhaps the “guard” had a status that was both noble and humble in different aspects, and the intertwining of these conflicting elements had led to his current complicated situation.
Setting down her chopsticks, Wen Yanran glanced at the court officials seated not far from her and signaled Zhang Luo to pour a cup of wine for the State Preceptor.
Wen Jingmei, who had been sitting quietly all along: “…”
The absolute hierarchical divide between ruler and subject left no room for refusal. Faced with an emperor whose gesture clearly meant, “Come here, I’ll toast you and ask you a few things,” he could only respond with calm composure. He picked up his wine cup, approached the throne, his long sleeves sweeping the floor, and bowed slightly in a half-salute. “Your Majesty.”
The music in the hall never ceased, and given the distance between the Emperor and others, even Yuan Yanshi could not make out their conversation.
Wen Yanran had an attendant place an additional seat beside her desk for Wen Jingmei and said with a light smile, “Brother, with your vast knowledge, might you be aware of the internal situation within the Wuliu Tribe?”
In truth, aside from overseeing rituals and sacrifices, the State Preceptor had no clearly defined duties, which conveniently allowed Wen Yanran to summon him for a chat whenever a question crossed her mind.
A trace of helplessness flickered in Wen Jingmei’s eyes. “Your Majesty clearly already has some understanding of the matter. Why bother asking me?”
Given the Emperor’s temperament, ever since noticing the Wuliu Tribe’s felt rug in his study and taking it to heart, she would undoubtedly have sought out information about this tribe. So many days had passed since then – she must have already gathered considerable knowledge.
Wen Yanran smiled faintly, neither confirming nor denying it. She raised her wine cup and gestured lightly in a toast to her distant cousin across from her.
As someone who frequently interacted with the Emperor, Wen Jingmei was well aware that her wine cup contained nothing but sweetened fruit nectar. He himself was not a skilled drinker either and only partook out of necessity during banquets. Yet, faced with a toast from the Emperor, he had no choice but to take a few sips.
Despite his high status and composed temperament, he was still a young scholar under twenty. The alcohol flushed his fair cheeks with a faint blush almost instantly.
Just as Wen Jingmei was about to force himself to finish the drink, his wrist was gently stopped by the Emperor.
A faint smile touched Wen Yanran’s lips. “So, you are also not much of a drinker? In that case, there is no need to force yourself.”
The look of helplessness in Wen Jingmei’s eyes deepened – it was she who had urged him to drink, and now it was she who told him not to. Though the Emperor was widely known for benevolence and virtue, he knew well that beneath her seemingly steady demeanor lay a streak of capricious willfulness.
Both were dressed in the broad-sleeved court robes of the occasion. Wen Yanran shot him a meaningful glance, signaling him to discreetly pour the remaining wine onto the ground under the cover of his sleeve.
Wen Jingmei thought to himself that the present emperor not only possessed remarkable foresight in major affairs of state but also had quite a unique approach when it came to minor matters.
