The liveliness in the hall continued.
I sat in the corner, stuffing the last piece of osmanthus cake into my mouth. Just as I was preparing to find an excuse to slip away, Zhu Gaoxu's voice rang out again. This time, it wasn't directed at me—it was aimed at Zhu Zhanji.
"My dear nephew certainly made a big splash in the Northern Desert this time."
Zhu Gaoxu held his wine cup; his tone sounded like praise, but the inflection was off, the ending rising sharply, as if saying,"What gives you the right?" The hall fell silent for a moment; everyone looked toward Zhu Zhanji. He was holding his tea bowl; upon hearing this, he merely raised his eyelids slightly.
"Second Uncle overestimates me," he replied, his tone very light, as if saying, "The weather is nice today."
Zhu Gaoxu had no intention of letting him off. "I hear you personally entered the fray? It's rare for a commander to run to the front lines." This statement carried more weight than the previous one; the atmosphere in the hall tightened. Several clansmen exchanged glances; some lowered their heads to drink tea, others pretended not to have heard.
Zhu Zhanji set down his tea bowl, his tone unchanged. "The situation required it."
"The situation required it?" Zhu Gaoxu laughed, not a happy laugh, but the kind that says,"You're brushing me off." "You had so many people around you; did you really have to go yourself?"
The hall grew even quieter. I sat in the corner, my fingers clenched tightly under the table. This question wasn't about battlefield tactics; it was askingWhy did you go personally? I knew the answer. He had said it:"You were over there." But those words could not be spoken.
Zhu Zhanji didn't answer immediately. He lifted his tea bowl, took a sip, and set it down. As slow as always.
"At that moment, my presence at that position was most suitable."
Zhu Gaoxu looked at him, something indefinable in his gaze. It wasn't anger, nor dissatisfaction; he was judging whether this statement was true or merely an excuse.
"Is that so?" Zhu Gaoxu took a sip of wine, then suddenly turned to look at me. "Miss Song, what do you say?"
My entire body froze. The chopsticks in my hand nearly dropped.Why me again? I'm just here to eat.
"I…" I opened my mouth, my mind going blank. I couldn't say, "He went to save me"—that would harm him. I couldn't say, "He misjudged the situation"—that would be false. And I couldn't say, "I don't know"—that would be pretending. I thought for two seconds and uttered the safest response: "I don't understand warfare."
Zhu Gaoxu looked at me, the corner of his mouth twitching. "You don't understand warfare? Yet you seemed quite talkative in the Northern Desert."
I knew this day of reckoning was coming, I thought. I took a deep breath, trying to make my voice sound less guilty. "In the Northern Desert, I didn't know the rules. Now that I'm back in the capital, I do." As soon as the words left my lips, even my own ears felt they were too fake. I clearly knew the rules; I had always known them. It was just that sometimes I didn't want to follow them. But saying this was telling themI will obey. From today on.
Zhu Gaoxu paused. He probably hadn't expected me to respond this way. Someone in the hall chuckled softly; it was the Crown Princess. She held her tea bowl, head bowed, her expression unreadable, but that light laugh suggested she understood something.
Zhu Gaoxu glanced at her, didn't press further, and set down his wine cup. I exhaled in relief. But before that breath could fully leave me, a cough came from the head of the table. Not heavy, but sudden.
Zhu Di, holding his wine cup, coughed once, as if choked by the wine. The eunuch beside him hurriedly stepped forward, but Zhu Di waved him off, indicating he was fine. He lifted his tea bowl, took a sip, and set it down. The movement was usual, but I noticed that when he set the bowl down, his fingers lingered on the rim for an extra instant. Just a moment, quickly withdrawn. No one noticed, except me.
"Zhanji was indeed a bit impulsive this time," Zhu Di spoke, his tone not heavy, as if discussing a family matter. "A commander should not go to the front lines."
The hall fell silent again. Zhu Zhanji did not refute; he simply lowered his head, looking at the tea bowl before him. I thought he would admit fault. Then Zhu Di added, "However, sometimes a bit of impulsiveness is not a bad thing."
The atmosphere in the hall suddenly shifted. It wasn't the tense tightness from before; it was that subtle feeling where everyone heard the hidden meaning but no one dared to acknowledge it. Zhu Gaoxu's hand holding the wine cup paused; the Third Prince raised his eyelids to glance at Zhu Di, then lowered them again. The Crown Princess's lips curled up slightly, then quickly returned to normal.
Zhu Zhanji raised his head, looking at Zhu Di. Zhu Di looked back at him, something indefinable in his gaze. It wasn't blame, nor indulgence; it was"I know, but I won't say it."
"Be more careful next time," Zhu Di said.
"Yes," Zhu Zhanji replied.
The hall returned to its liveliness. People began talking about other things, drinking, laughing. But that subtle atmosphere remained, indefinable—like something placed on the table that no one picked up, yet everyone knew was there.
I lowered my head, looking at the few crumbs of osmanthus cake left on my plate, daring not to look up. Zhu Gaoxu didn't ask me again, but I knew he was looking at Zhu Zhanji. Not sizing him up, but thinking. Zhu Di was also looking at Zhu Zhanji, but not at his reaction; he was looking athim.
Just then, someone spoke. It was the Crown Princess, her tone gentle, as if mentioning something trivial: "Those close to His Highness naturally need to be protected. Protecting them well is also a skill."
The hall fell silent for an instant. This sentence was too cleverWho are "those close"? What does "protecting" mean? Who is the "skill" referring to? Everyone could tell she wasn't talking about the battlefield. Zhu Gaoxu looked at her; she returned a faint smile, lifted her tea bowl, and took a sip. Zhu Gaoxu didn't respond, turning his gaze back to Zhu Zhanji.
Zhu Zhanji kept his head low, looking at the tea bowl before him, saying nothing. But his ears turned red. Starting from the tips, slowly moving down to the lobes, then spreading to his neck. I had seen this in the Eastern Palace, in the Imperial Garden, and when bandaging him in the military tent. Every time, it was because of something I said. This time, it wasn't because of me.
Someone in the hall chuckled lightly; it was a certain clansman, likely drunk, unable to hold it back. Zhu Gaoxu glanced at that person, who immediately stifled the laugh and lowered his head to drink.
Zhu Di lifted his wine cup, took a sip, then coughed again. This time it was heavier; wine sloshed out of the cup, splashing onto the back of his hand. The eunuch quickly handed over a handkerchief; he took it, wiped his hand, and waved them off, indicating he was fine.
"It's normal to have some thoughts," he said.
When these words landed, the atmosphere in the hall completely relaxed. Not the "it's over" kind of relaxation, but the kind where—since the Emperor said it was "normal," there was no need to pursue the matter further. Zhu Gaoxu lifted his wine cup and took a large gulp, saying nothing more. His gaze lingered on Zhu Zhanji for a moment, then moved away. It wasn't admitting defeat; it was calculating. Having calculated clearly, he could drink this cup. The Third Prince set down his tea bowl, glanced at Zhu Zhanji, then at me, before withdrawing his gaze.
I lowered my head, hiding my hands under the table. My fingers were no longer cold, but my palms were covered in a thin layer of sweat.
The liveliness in the hall continued. People started playing finger-guessing games, recounting stories of the Northern Expedition, laughing. I sat in the corner, picking up the remaining crumbs of osmanthus cake from my plate one by one and eating them. Sweet was still sweet. Zhu Zhanji sat beside me, not looking at me, but pushed the teapot toward me. I glanced at him. His ears were no longer red, but the tips still held a faint pink hue, as if scalded by something, not yet fully faded.
"Drink tea," he said.
I poured a cup of tea, holding it in my palms. Hot. As hot as every time. The sounds in the hall grew increasingly mixed and chaotic. I sat there, slowly finishing that cup of tea.
A light sound came from the head of the table. Zhu Di set down his wine cup, leaned back in his chair, and closed his eyes for a moment. Very brief, so brief that those beside him didn't notice. But I saw it. For an instant, exhaustion crossed his face—not the tiredness after a battle, but something deeper, buried in the bones. Then he opened his eyes, lifted his tea bowl, and took another sip.
The wind outside the hall had stopped. The lights inside continued to flicker. I sat in the corner, set down my tea cup, and pulled my hands back into my sleeves.
"In the future, don't let her go to such distant places alone," the Crown Princess said softly, sounding both like an instruction and a reminder. Zhu Zhanji did not answer. I lowered my head, looking at the empty tea cup, not daring to look up. My fingers traced circles on the rim of the cup, again and again.
The liveliness in the hall continued. No one knew that in that fleeting moment, I had seen something I shouldn't have. I tucked it away in my heart, alongside that bronze key.
(End of Chapter Twenty-One)