The bone slipped from Ye Jiao's grasp, landing with a faint splash of oil in the dish. She instinctively recoiled, avoiding the tender, pale tofu, her expression stiffening as she stared blankly for a long moment before finally speaking.
"Your Highness, are you mocking your humble servant?"
To invite someone to dine yet withhold chopsticks; to offer tofu when one desires meat bones—and in such a disgusting manner at that. Feeding with chopsticks? Crown Prince, might you be afflicted with some grave malady?
Within the palace's sacred confines, Ye Jiao, hungry and restrained, dared not overturn the table or strike him. She could only suppress her fury and question him sharply.
Li Zhang still did not withdraw his chopsticks.
"Not eating?"
He watched Ye Jiao's rising anger with amused composure and explained,
"The eunuch did not realize that Lord Ye was dining here as well, and brought only one set of utensils. If you do not mind, use mine."
His expression was impeccable—noble, natural, utterly flawless—as if Ye Jiao's surprise were mere petulance and narrow-mindedness.
Seeing her cheeks flush and her gaze harden, Li Zhang finally retracted his chopsticks, popped the tofu into his mouth, chewing quietly before swallowing slowly.
"No need."
Ye Jiao said coldly,
"Your Highness's chopsticks, I do despise."
Li Zhang's chopsticks hovered over a roasted pigeon, pausing mid-air.
"Despise?" His voice carried a trace of reproach. "Do you not despise Li Ce?"
Before she could answer, he added,
"When will you understand that your very survival depends entirely on the master of the Daming Palace?"
The master of Daming Palace was now the emperor, and soon it would be Li Zhang himself. Imperial sovereignty transcended law; he had every right to look down upon all. Thus, he arrogantly mocked and toyed with her.
Ye Jiao slammed her hand upon the table, leaning forward, her eyes locked on Li Zhang's with the stormy intensity of gathering thunder. She said fiercely,
"Crown Prince, when will you grasp that even the master of Daming Palace depends on the people of the realm?"
Water bears the boat and overturns it—this was a truth long known since Xunzi's time. Their Crown Prince surely understood, but his pride blinded him into believing the throne granted him carte blanche.
Ye Jiao's words were insolent, disrespectful, yet they pierced the royal family's sorest wound. Since the uprising of Chen Sheng and Wu Guang in Qin, no royal dared underestimate the power of the people.
Li Zhang lifted his gaze, noting how the furious woman stood but a few feet away—close enough that a mere reach could brush her porcelain skin and tender lips. His arm moved as if of its own volition, rising, extending forward.
At that moment, the entire table overturned toward Li Zhang's chest, scattering soup, dishes, and spoons all over his robes.
Ye Jiao stood firm, her peach-blossom eyes fixed on the disheveled Li Zhang seated in stunned silence.
He raised a hand in surprise, stopping the eunuchs rushing in.
"The table's fallen," he said evenly, unfazed, "Come with me to the side hall to change."
The embroidered dragon sleeve of his garment hovered merely a palm's breadth from Ye Jiao's robes. Standing beside her, Li Zhang's voice dropped low as he commanded,
"You may go complain now."
"When will His Majesty grant an audience?" Ye Jiao asked the eunuch.
"Not at the moment," came the reply. "The Emperor has yet to awaken. The Princess Royal is already waiting outside the hall with Miss Shu."
In other words, the emperor would see the Princess Royal first, then Ye Jiao and Li Zhang.
Li Zhang said nothing, striding toward the hall's exit as if this were all foreseen. Ye Jiao also left, but in the opposite direction. She decided to find something to eat; after all, she still carried Yan Congzheng's insignia.
"Lord Ye, you cannot wander about here."
A palace guard promptly blocked her way.
"No matter," a voice came from nearby, footsteps steady and assured. Yan Congzheng, clad in the black uniform of the deputy commander, approached with the deference and steadiness befitting his post. Raising a hand, he said,
"Please come with me, Lord Ye."
Ye Jiao seized the lifeline, quickly falling into step beside him. They wound their way to the steps behind the side hall of Zichen Palace. In the deserted stillness, he said,
"Wait here."
"I thought His Majesty summoned me."
Her expression dimmed with disappointment.
Yan Congzheng smiled gently, seating himself casually on the steps, producing a paper bag from beneath his outer robe. Inside were two meat buns.
"You brought food!" Ye Jiao sat quickly, biting ravenously into the bun, then looked up,
"From Guangde District's meat buns!"
"Don't choke," he warned, undoing the water pouch at his waist and handing it to her. After a moment, he explained,
"It's a new water pouch—I haven't used it."
Ye Jiao took a sip, then muttered,
"That bastard Li Zhang!"
A bright smile flickered in Yan Congzheng's eyes as he shook his head and whispered a caution,
"This is the palace."
"He's a complete bastard!" Ye Jiao muffled her mouth with the bun and repeated,
"There was a feast, and he wouldn't let me eat! Luckily, you arrived."
Being needed, being appreciated—such warmth strengthened her spirit.
Yan Congzheng sat upright, the breeze brushing his cheeks warm as if carrying his own heat, stirring Ye Jiao's forehead hair.
"There's something," he said awkwardly, glancing to the side of the steps, "I want to ask you to help with."
"What is it?" Ye Jiao, chewing a hefty bite of the meat bun, squinted, "Speak freely—I'll face any danger for you."
They were friends. Friends could risk everything for each other.
"No need for trouble," Yan Congzheng's voice trembled with nervous hope, "You just need to sit quietly and not move."
Not move? That's easy. Ye Jiao resumed eating, but saw his fingers reach out with stiff yet gentle motions to smooth her forehead hair.
"You…" she stammered, puzzled and uneasy. Between them hung an unprecedented intimacy.
"Don't move," he whispered.
Behind Ye Jiao, a sharp clatter echoed—a thing fell to the ground. Turning, she saw Shu Wen standing at the hall's corner. Her bright phoenix eyes locked fiercely on them, teeth clenched until her cheeks trembled with sorrow, shock, and fury.
At her feet lay a black pouch. The eunuch had said the Princess Royal was with Miss Shu to petition the Emperor's audience—so she would appear here, while Yan Congzheng—
Shu Wen quickly retreated, her footsteps faltering with desperate resolve.
Ye Jiao's shock rivaled Shu Wen's.
"So," she stood, trembling with anger, "Deputy Commander Yan, did you use me just now?"
Used her to drive Shu Wen away.
A gust of wind swept in, carrying drifting peach blossom petals that Ye Jiao crushed beneath her feet.
"Something like that," Yan Congzheng said, "So you should be angry and break ties with me."
His fingers brushed his sleeve cuff; embroidered within his crisp uniform was a single peach blossom.
"Yan Congzheng!"
Having just cursed Li Zhang, Ye Jiao searched for another insult for Yan Congzheng, yet her mind was filled only with memories of their youth—sneaking out behind their parents' backs, running free amid the peach blossom fields.
Half the meat bun remained; she slammed it on the ground, the water pouch dropping beside it, then turned to leave.
What was wrong with them today? All possessed by some spell.
When the eunuch came to summon her, Ye Jiao's anger lingered.
Li Zhang had changed into fresh prince's robes, standing in the corridor outside the bedchamber. Ye Jiao approached, the eunuch asking her to wait. From within came Shu Wen's crying voice.
"I do not wish to marry! I beg His Majesty to revoke the decree."
Li Zhang scoffed coldly, glancing at Ye Jiao,
"Because of you?"
"No, what do you mean because of me?" Ye Jiao had lost all courtly deference before the heir apparent.
Li Zhang gazed deeply at her, then turned away.
Within, Princess Li Xianya patiently soothed,
"Shu Wen, His Majesty's marriage decree is rare. You once admired Deputy Commander Yan. Why now do you retract your consent?"
"I was wrong," Shu Wen sobbed, "I no longer love him and do not want to marry him."
So it was true. The Emperor intended the marriage between Yan Congzheng and Shu Wen.
Ye Jiao glanced behind; numerous guards stood outside Zichen Palace, but Yan Congzheng was nowhere in sight.
Silence fell briefly, then the Emperor's gentle voice resounded,
"The last time, Xiao Jiu also refused to marry Ye Jiao before me. Yet in the end, she knelt before me, begging for the marriage. These children, none of them are easy to manage. You may leave first. Think it over and come again."
Soon the eunuch opened the doors. Princess Li Xianya
came out with Shu Wen, wiping tears.
Li Xianya greeted Ye Jiao respectfully.
"I heard you're here for the audience, Lord Ye."
"Yes."
The Princess Royal paused. Then said quietly,
"Since the Emperor has not seen you yet, it is better you return to your residence and wait."
Ye Jiao bowed slightly and left.
Outside, her heart churned. The palace was a cage, the throne a noose—yet she had her own resolve.
She would live freely, unrestrained, no matter how tight the grip.