The Empress Dowager’s birthday celebration was a grand feast in the inner palace, marking Murong Zhao’s first true entry into the social arena of the inner palace since arriving in Yin.
Everyone in Changle Palace urged her to dress more lavishly, to suppress the arrogance of the others.
Yet in the end, Murong Zhao chose only a plain palace gown, without excessive hairpins or ornaments, elegant and clean. Sitting in a corner, she nearly blended into the shadows.
Su Yue was frantic with worry: “Your Highness, why are you dressed so plainly? People will look down on you!”
“The less noticeable, the safer,” Murong Zhao replied calmly.
The banquet hall was ablaze with lights, filled with consorts and concubines.
Consort Shu, clad in red and adorned with jewels, stayed close to the Empress Dowager, serving tea and water with utmost diligence, her eyes brimming with pride.
Consort De held a hand warmer, leaning lazily in her chair, a faint, amused smile playing on her lips. Consort Xian closed her eyes, fingering her prayer beads, occasionally opening them to cast a calm glance around the hall.
Lower-ranking consorts trembled with fear, not daring to lift their heads.
In the corner, Consort Hui sat quietly, her gaze drifting from time to time toward Murong Zhao, thoughtful and contemplative.
Murong Zhao carefully noted each person’s expression, position, and relationships.
Suddenly, her gaze sharpened slightly—
Zi Yuan stood outside the hall under the corridor, whispering with Consort Shu’s head maid. The maid slipped something into Zi Yuan’s hand, and Zi Yuan quickly hid it in her sleeve before disappearing into the crowd.
Murong Zhao lowered her eyes and continued sipping her tea, as if she had seen nothing.
Not long after, a eunuch announced loudly, “His Majesty has arrived—”
Xiao Yan, clad in imperial robes, strode into the hall with a stern and imposing presence.
He took his seat beside the Empress Dowager, his gaze sweeping casually across the hall. Naturally, it paused for a moment on the plain figure in the corner.
Only for a moment.
But his fingers tightened slightly around his cup.
The Empress Dowager glanced sideways, a flicker of profound meaning in her eyes that others could hardly detect.
After several rounds of wine, Consort Shu suddenly rose, smiling brightly: “For the Empress Dowager’s eternal longevity, I propose that the sisters from each palace showcase their talents to delight Her Majesty!”
The others chimed in agreement.
Singing, dancing, pipa, flutes, and xiao—round after round, the hall buzzed with excitement.
Soon, it was Murong Zhao’s turn.
All eyes instantly turned toward the corner, filled with scornful anticipation.
What refined skills could a discarded woman from the Cold Palace of Beishuo possibly possess?
Consort Shu curled her lips into a malicious smile: “Sister Empress, it’s your turn. You must perform well and not disappoint the Empress Dowager.”
Murong Zhao rose slowly, her posture straight, her voice calm and clear: “In reply to the Empress Dowager, I am uncultured and unskilled in song, dance, or music. I only know a little of sword dancing. If Your Majesty does not disdain it, I would be honored to perform clumsily to add to your longevity.”
Sword dancing?
The entire hall erupted in murmurs.
What empress would wield swords and blades at a birthday banquet? Was this inauspicious or sheer arrogance?
Consort Shu secretly rejoiced and was about to speak up to stop it when the Empress Dowager suddenly spoke, her eyes filled with curiosity: “Oh? You know sword dancing? Granted.”
Murong Zhao curtsied in gratitude, then turned to the imperial guard standing at the side of the hall, her voice steady:
“May I borrow a sword?”
The guard hesitated, instinctively glancing toward Xiao Yan at the head of the hall.
Xiao Yan gave a slight nod.
The guard hurriedly presented the sword with both hands, respectfully offering it.
Murong Zhao took the long sword, her wrist turning—
Clang—
The blade left its sheath, its cold light like snow, instantly illuminating half the hall.
She stepped into the center of the hall, her figure light as a swallow. With a flick of her wrist, the sword’s radiance suddenly exploded!
The sword's edge was sharp and fierce, yet not lacking in elegance; its movements were clean and decisive, yet harbored a dignified spirit.
At times like clouds drifting from mountain peaks, at times like a startled swan piercing the sky, the sword's light enveloped the figure clad in plain colors, dancing and fluttering gracefully—quiet as a maiden, swift as thunder.
The entire hall instantly fell silent.
One could hear a needle drop.
Everyone was stunned.
No one had expected that this seemingly quiet and delicate Empress could possess such breathtakingly exquisite sword skills!
Consort De set down her hand-warmer, straightened her posture, and for the first time, a serious look appeared in her eyes.
Consort Xian's hand, which had been fingering prayer beads, stopped; her lips parted slightly, and after a long pause, she softly uttered two words: "Fine sword."
Consort Hui's eyes grew brighter and brighter, whispering to the palace maid beside her: "What did I say? Military style! This sword technique—it takes at least eight to ten years to master!"
With the final stance, the sword's light settled, and silence filled the hall once more.
Murong Zhao stood firmly, her expression unchanged, her breath steady, even her hair strands undisturbed. Holding the sword, she bowed: "Your humble servant has shown her clumsiness."
Consort Shu's face turned ashen, gripping her wine cup tightly, her knuckles whitening.
Consort De and Consort Xian exchanged a glance—one lowered her head to sip tea, the other cast her eyes down with a faint smile. Neither spoke, yet a flicker of contemplation passed through their eyes—this new Empress was likely not simple.
After a brief dead silence—"Excellent!"
Empress Dowager was the first to raise her hands and applaud, her eyes shining astonishingly bright, her face filled with genuine admiration. "Excellent swordplay! Excellent spirit!"
Xiao Yan sat at the head of the hall, his profound gaze fixed unwaveringly upon her.
Candlelight reflected in his eyes, something flickering gently within—burning and bright.
Consort Shu stood frozen, her smile completely stiffened, nails digging deeply into her palms, seething with hatred yet unable to utter a single word.
After the birthday banquet ended, the crowd dispersed.
Consort De returned to her palace, dismissed her attendants, and sat alone by the window.
A maid cautiously brought hot tea: "Your Majesty, why have you remained silent all evening? Was it the Empress's sword technique…"
"The sword technique is secondary," Consort De interrupted her, her gaze deep and distant. "Did you not see the Emperor's eyes?"
The maid paused.
Consort De sighed softly, her tone complex: "I have been in the palace for five years and have never seen the Emperor look at someone like that."
"It seemed… as if he had finally found something."
She paused, her voice even lower: "And also, as if he feared others noticing his gaze."
The maid seemed to understand but not fully: "Then Your Majesty means…"
Consort De did not answer, merely gazing at the moonlight outside the window, silent for a long time.
After a long while, she whispered softly to herself: "Let's observe first. The path in this deep palace is still long."
Early morning, Cining Palace.
Empress Dowager reclined on a soft couch, resting with closed eyes, then suddenly spoke: "Did you see that girl's sword last night?"
Liu Momo hurriedly bowed: "Your servant glimpsed it from afar beneath the corridor—truly breathtaking."
"More than just breathtaking," Empress Dowager opened her eyes, her expression complex. "That sword technique blended strength and grace, controlled and released freely—it could not be mastered without ten years of arduous practice. To cultivate such skill while enduring in the Cold Palace… this girl is more composed than I imagined."
She remained silent for a moment, then softly said: "Go investigate—what kind of person was her mother, Consort Jing?"
Liu Momo accepted the order and departed. Empress Dowager gazed out the window, silent for a long while.
"That girl is quite interesting. I thought she was merely someone who could endure, but unexpectedly, she also hides a sharp edge—much smarter than I imagined…"
The aunt whispered softly: "Then Empress Dowager…"
"Keep it for now." The Empress Dowager closed her eyes gently. "Let's see just how far she can go."