The oil-soaked pastry in her hand was disgracefully discarded, yet the large mouthful of wine lingering in her throat had to be swallowed hastily in several gulps, aided by the motion of rising to report. One gulp, two gulps, three—gulp, gulp, gulp—Ye Jiao swallowed it all before lifting her gaze toward the Emperor. At that very moment, an involuntary hiccup escaped her lips. Though faint, in the suddenly silent hall where music ceased and courtiers held their breath, the sound echoed far and wide. The princesses seated near Ye Jiao suppressed their laughter, while a few ministers rose, poised to reprimand her, only to be interrupted by the Emperor's timely chuckle.
"Is today's wine to your liking?" he inquired gently, a trace of satisfaction in his tone.
"It's exquisite," Ye Jiao nodded repeatedly.
The Emperor exchanged a glance with the Empress before smiling and declaring, "This fine wine was brought back by the Prince of Jin from the northwest. Since Lady Ye enjoys it, a cask shall be sent with you upon your departure."
Those who had intended to mock Ye Jiao instantly betrayed expressions of envy, particularly King Zhao, Li Jing, who drank several generous sips, exaggerating his gestures and drooling with longing. Yet no matter his antics, the Emperor seemed oblivious.
"Why does she receive rewards even for hiccuping?" Li Jing muttered discontentedly.
Beside him, King Wei, Li Chen, laughed and reassured, "Father wants us to see Second Brother's filial devotion. Whoever raises the cup first, he will always offer a word and a reward."
Li Chen's brother, Li Zhang, turned briefly toward them and echoed the Emperor's sentiment, "General Ye is a paragon among women. Her elder brother bravely fought alongside Your Majesty's son. I shall personally deliver the wine to spare her the hardship of carrying it through the snow."
A small cask of wine—how arduous could that be? Ye Jiao glanced at the Emperor, about to protest that she could manage alone, but the Emperor smiled and nodded gently. She then looked toward Li Ce, who knelt behind the table, his brow relaxed as he subtly shook his head. The Emperor clearly intended to cultivate a favorable relationship between Li Zhang and the Duke of Anguo's household, and Li Zhang's words candidly revealed his intentions.
What appeared a simple exchange to Ye Jiao was, in truth, a labyrinthine dance in the minds of the courtiers in Linde Hall. Those with simpler thoughts understood that following the incident with Baili Xi, the Emperor had reaffirmed his favor toward the Duke's family. More perceptive minds recognized that by not engaging the Tibetan envoy and first honoring Ye Jiao, the Emperor was conveying his respect and consolation to the families of the frontier soldiers. And people like Li Ce read even deeper meanings.
The Emperor was preparing to appoint the heir—the Crown Prince, the Prince of Jin.
Having concluded his conversation with the Prince of Jin, the Emperor turned his gaze to the Tibetan delegation. The demeanor he displayed toward foreign envoys was markedly different from before—his concern carried the magnanimity befitting a civilized realm, yet bore the imposing presence of a sovereign in his prime.
"Princess of Tibet, are you accustomed to life in Chang'an? I have instructed the Ministry of Rites and the Honglu Temple to ensure your needs are met. Should anything displease you, do not hesitate to speak."
As guests, the Tang dynasty was always gracious and magnanimous.
Gesang Meiduo rose gracefully, bowing with humility, and replied softly, "Since arriving in Chang'an, I have been enchanted by Tang's grandeur, so much so that I have momentarily forgotten my homeland and long to reside here permanently."
The Emperor smiled faintly, "If the princess wishes to stay, she is welcome. We even have a Japanese envoy who has lingered for ten years and refuses to leave. I hear—" He glanced at the Ministry of Rites to confirm, "he has mastered all our music, chess, calligraphy, and literature, and lately has taken to learning the art of female adornment?"
The official from the Ministry nodded, prompting laughter among the courtiers. Their laughter was carefree and confident, not fearing Tang's cultural prowess would be borrowed, but rather proud and unshaken.
Ye Jiao smiled along until she heard Gesang Meiduo mention her name.
"I have long admired the Tang daughters. It seems I must also learn their art of adornment. Today, Lady Ye's makeup pleased me greatly."
Just as Ye Jiao lifted a cup of wine, the words froze her mid-motion. She looked up to find all eyes converging upon her. What did the princess mean? To learn makeup from her? Yet today Ye Jiao wore the simplest hairstyle, merely a subtle stroke of peach blossom blush at her brow. Was that really so striking? Could they please stop mentioning her so she could enjoy her meat and wine in peace?
Yet the Emperor seemed displeased by the mention of Ye Jiao's appearance. Though his expression barely shifted, those perceptive enough sensed the change.
"Princess, rather than learn makeup from Lady Ye, perhaps you should learn her archery and martial skills. The Emperor entrusted Lady Ye with defending the capital not for her beauty alone. Surely, the Tibetan soldiers at Ganquan Springs have witnessed Ye family's martial prowess."
The Tibetan envoy's faces darkened at this remark. General Ye Changgeng had once led the Tang army to a crushing defeat of Tibet, forcing their retreat below Ganquan Springs and compelling them to sue for peace. Though peace had been achieved, this remained a bitter humiliation for the Tibetans.
The speaker was the Fourth Prince, King Wei Li Chen. Ye Jiao was somewhat familiar with him. Though unremarkable in height and appearance among the princes, he was one of the first to assist the Emperor with state affairs, known for his simplicity and filial piety. Rumor had it he personally learned acupuncture from the imperial physicians and tirelessly tended the Emperor's leg pain, kneeling for hours without complaint. His mother, Consort Zhaorong, was descended from Duke Xi of Lu in the Spring and Autumn period, earning him special favor despite not being the Empress's son.
But these were secondary; Ye Jiao's acquaintance with him stemmed from his marriage to Yan Shuangxu, sister of her childhood playmate Yan Congzheng. She had met Li Chen a few times around their wedding, noting his courteous manner and that he did not avoid her as others did.
Was Li Chen's speech a subtle form of support? As Ye Jiao pondered, Gesang Meiduo rose and cupped her hands respectfully, saying, "I have heard that Tang women are skilled in archery and horsemanship. I practiced some sword techniques in my youth and wonder if Lady Ye might teach me a few moves?"
Ye Jiao stared, speechless. Firstly, she had come to feast on imperial delicacies and drink the royal wine. Secondly, she had plans to meet with Xiaosi. Repeated interruptions were one thing, but to be made to spar on an empty stomach just as the banquet began was another matter entirely.
She sought aid from Li Ce, who stood and addressed Gesang Meiduo, "Today we celebrate the peace accord between our nations. It would be inappropriate to shed arms and draw swords to spar."
He stood in the hall, bathed in light as if it were focused solely upon him, his heroic bearing and dignified presence captivating many ladies. The princesses near Ye Jiao whispered, "Has Prince Chu always been this striking? He used to seem so frail." "Looks like he's been well cared for." "By whom? Fifth Brother?"
Ye Jiao said nothing but felt proud, imagining she was nurturing a fine steed or watering a blossoming tree. Li Ce had spoken, and the ministers chimed in, declaring the day unsuitable for combat. Yet all awaited the Emperor's decree.
The Emperor conversed casually with the Empress, seemingly ignoring Gesang Meiduo's request until prompted by a eunuch, then turned to Ye Jiao, asking, "Would you like to spar? It has been long since I have seen a daughter wield the sword. Lady Ye, will you oblige?"
Ye Jiao felt that refusal would signify weakness, something the Emperor would not tolerate. To show retreat to a provocation would embolden Tibet and diminish Tang's prestige. Li Ce surely understood this and had spoken on her behalf, bearing the Emperor's displeasure.
In truth... Ye Jiao thought, savoring the sumptuous feast, national affairs mattered more than anything. She merely worried her swordsmanship was inadequate; losing the duel would disgrace Tang. Indeed, knowledge is regretted only when needed, and skills are lamented when put to the test.
With a stiff expression, Ye Jiao bowed to the Emperor, "Rumor holds that the Tibetan princess excels in martial arts. I have merely learned a few moves from the old family servant since childhood and am aware my swordsmanship is inferior. Nevertheless, I shall try to provide entertainment for Your Majesty and esteemed lords."
She barely knew Gesang Meiduo's skill but spoke thus to save face. Immediately she regretted not calling the princess Tibet's finest warrior. A foolish mistake.
Ye Jiao rose and stood in the center of the hall, clad in her most resplendent gown. The thought that it might be torn by blade or sword troubled her. The courtiers watched with wide eyes, anxious not to miss a single detail. She noticed Prince Jin Li Zhang kneeling solemnly and watching her intently. Li Ce remained standing, his expression tinged with concern. Li Jing, meanwhile, was jovial, secretly betting with the Sixth Prince on whether Ye Jiao would prevail, simultaneously rooting for her victory and cursing her to lose—an odd prince indeed. A young prince of five or six years even stood to applaud, eager to emulate their moves.
Neither Gesang Meiduo nor Ye Jiao bore weapons upon entering; soon, attendants presented each with a blade—a sword for Ye Jiao, a knife for Gesang Meiduo. The difference was subtle but telling. The guests whispered: "The Emperor respects Lady Ye more, giving her the sword." "The princess must rely on skill, not just bravado."
The first strike was exchanged. Ye Jiao danced with the sword, her movements elegant but cautious, avoiding overexertion while trying to maintain dignity. Gesang Meiduo responded swiftly, fierce yet graceful. The duel was brief but spirited.
When it ended, the hall erupted in applause. The Emperor smiled broadly, nodding in approval, "A splendid display by both warriors. May peace last long between our nations."
Ye Jiao bowed deeply, grateful the ordeal was over. Gesang Meiduo smiled, respectful and sincere. The peace accord had been sealed not just by treaties, but by mutual respect and display of strength.