Chapter 20

As they approached the Hall of Imperial Peace, Li Shuyao hastily released Qingyao’s hand, composed her smile, lowered her gaze, and obediently walked behind Qingyao, blending into the crowd entering the main hall.

Yet, once inside, she couldn’t help but lift her head, her eyes swiftly scanning the room twice. Her moist, jet-black eyes sparkled with curiosity and delight; everything appeared new and fascinating to her. Judging by her expression, if not for the presence of the Emperor and the assembled concubines, she might have reached out to touch the pillars at any moment.

The Emperor sat high upon the dragon throne, his gaze sweeping over the reactions of those below.

As his eyes briefly lingered on Li Shuyao and Guo Luoluo Qingyao, who were curiously observing their surroundings, a subtle pause passed unnoticed. Then a faint smile flickered across his eyes before vanishing.

The concubines lined up together and formally paid their respects to the Emperor before each took their assigned seat.

Because Qingyao was a palace maid, her seat was placed at the very end of the crowd, the table nearly touching the main door.

Yet neither Qingyao nor Li Shuyao showed any trace of inferiority or timidity. Qingyao cheerfully took her place, first touching the silk cloths covering several dishes on the table, then lifting a few bowl lids to peek inside. Delighted, she turned to Li Shuyao and whispered something, causing Li Shuyao to smile in response.

Most in the hall quietly observed the behavior of this mistress-servant pair.

Seeing this scene, some were slightly puzzled—was she really so easily pleased?

Perhaps a little too easily satisfied?

At that moment, Qingyao was unaware that some had already categorized her as a "frog at the bottom of a well."

After examining each porcelain bowl, she would happily report back to Li Shuyao, concluding with a sigh: "Everything is so delicious! Celebrating the festival like this is truly wonderful, Shuyao. I wish every day could be the Dragon Boat Festival."

Li Shuyao fell silent.

She thoughtfully reflected on the origin of the Dragon Boat Festival, then gently replied to Qingyao, “Maybe it’s better if it’s not every day.”

Qingyao blinked curiously. “Why? Don’t you like celebrating festivals?”

“I do, but… does it have to be the Dragon Boat Festival every single day? Maybe other festivals aren’t so bad, either.”

After all, Qu Yuan wasn’t a professional diver—he couldn’t jump into the river every day.

Qingyao considered her words and quickly understood her meaning, realizing she had misspoken. A faint blush crept over her pale face as she let go of the bowl lid and stammered, “I... I didn’t mean that... I just wanted to say I really like celebrating festivals.”

“Of course, I know that,” Li Shuyao nodded understandingly, her eyes curved with a warm smile, then quickly added, “You’re just a little slow, aren’t you?”

This time, Qingyao was speechless.

She pursed her lips and puffed her cheeks, feigning anger.

Her palm itched to pinch the soft flesh at Li Shuyao’s waist, but considering the formal setting, she reluctantly abandoned the idea and shot Li Shuyao a playful glare. “Just wait till we get back.”

Li Shuyao smiled gently at her, secretly thinking that since Qingyao didn’t live in the rear quarters, what could she possibly do? At most, refuse to share her meals.

But she could always mooch off Yue Shu’s food instead—hmph!

*

Once everyone was seated, palace attendants came in to lift bowl lids, add more snacks, or remove dishes at guests’ requests.

The Emperor sat alone with Liang Jiugong at the highest step, while consorts led by Consort Niuhulu and Consort Tong took turns to offer toasts.

When it was Qingyao’s turn, she tidied the stray hairs by her temple, gracefully stood and raised her cup. With a clear voice, she recited a poem related to the Dragon Boat Festival, earning the Emperor’s approving glance and a smile.

Only then did the banquet officially begin.

Taking advantage of being unnoticed in the corner, Qingyao began feeding Li Shuyao bite after bite.

Li Shuyao, helpless, crouched beside Qingyao’s legs like a beautiful little kitten, mewing softly as she ate.

Most other attendees had ulterior motives. For instance, Consorts Niuhulu and Tong tasted only a few bites before chatting with the Emperor over their wine.

Meanwhile, Consort Nala glanced at the Emperor’s movements with the corner of her eye while tenderly watching the eldest prince nearby, displaying a doting mother’s demeanor.

Some consorts clutched their wine cups, gazing eagerly at the throne; others whispered with those beside them.

Though all were in the same hall, the atmosphere was fragmented into distinct circles.

No one’s focus was on the food.

Except for Guo Luoluo Qingyao and Li Shuyao, who, due to their low status and invisibility, brazenly misbehaved.

They even slipped away twice during the event.

However, since many needed to change clothes temporarily, no one noticed their unusual behavior.

…

After crouching beside Qingyao’s legs for a while, Li Shuyao’s legs began to go numb, so she stood up straight.

Qingyao looked at her in confusion. “Not eating anymore? There’s still so much left...”

“My legs are numb. I’ll stand for a bit and eat more later.” Li Shuyao’s delicate face drooped slightly; she waved her left hand at Qingyao twice and gently massaged her lower back with a fist. Squatting too long made her back ache.

“Oh, okay then,” Qingyao turned back to continue eating.

After a few bites, she suddenly remembered and asked, “Should I ask someone to bring you a small stool?”

Li Shuyao hesitated. “Would that be okay?”

Qingyao said, “What’s wrong with that?” Setting down her chopsticks, she signaled a nearby young palace maid who was pouring wine for a certain concubine.

The maid noticed the gesture, quickly put away the wine jug, and lowered her head as she approached, whispering, “Young mistress, what can I do for you?”

Qingyao said, “Could you please bring me a small stool? Or a small embroidered stool would be fine.”

The maid thought for a moment and nodded. “Very well, please wait a moment.” She bowed slightly to Qingyao before turning to leave.

As she turned, she raised her head just enough for Li Shuyao to catch a glimpse of her profile.

Li Shuyao froze—how could it be Song Fuwen?

She hastily withdrew her hand from massaging her back and took a few quick steps to Qingyao’s side, whispering her suspicion.

Qingyao frowned sharply. “You mean the Song Fuwen from the tea room who’s always at odds with you and even encourages others to isolate you?”

Li Shuyao nodded vigorously. “It’s her, definitely her!”

“How is she here?”

Song Fuwen, a palace maid serving tea in the Palace of Heavenly Purity, would never be ordered around by Liang Gonggong’s staff, even if the Imperial Household Department was short-handed.

Moreover, Li Shuyao had overheard her talking with Song Fuwen the night before about embroidering something together today.

Logically, she shouldn’t have had time to sneak out.

Therefore, Song Fuwen’s sudden presence in the Hall of Imperial Peace, coupled with her cautious, timid demeanor, aroused suspicion about her true intent.

Li Shuyao furrowed her brows, muttering, “Could she be here to harm me?”

At that moment, the palace intrigue from the original novel replayed in her mind.

Qingyao, however, remained calm and even comforted her, “Don’t overthink it. Maybe she’s here to seduce the Emperor?”

The Emperor had attended two Dragon Boat Festival banquets today and drank quite a bit. Even with his legendary tolerance, his senses were likely clouded by now.

Perhaps someone might try to take advantage of this.

Those concubines, each holding a wine cup as they approached to converse with the Emperor, had such intentions in mind.

Meanwhile, Li Shuyao was still restless when Song Fuwen returned, carrying a small stool.

Unaware she had been recognized, Song Fuwen whispered apologies to Qingyao, “I’m sorry, young mistress. The Hall of Imperial Peace hasn’t been visited for some time; many things haven’t been replaced with new ones. It took me a while to find this stool. One leg is a bit short, so please be careful when sitting.”

No sooner had she spoken than she lowered her head and handed the stool to Li Shuyao, clearly aware that Qingyao had requested it for her.

Li Shuyao nervously pursed her lips, accepting the stool as carefully as if handling a bomb.

Seeing Li Shuyao take it, Song Fuwen slowly released her grip.

Li Shuyao stood still, blinking in surprise. Huh? Nothing happened, no explosion.

That shouldn’t be.

“You may leave now.”

“Yes, young mistress.”

Qingyao’s words dismissed her, then she took the stool from Li Shuyao, inspecting it carefully.

“It seems only one leg is crooked. Shouldn’t be a big problem.”

Yet Li Shuyao remained fearful, preferring to squat on two legs than use the stool Song Fuwen had brought.

Knowing Song Fuwen was in the Hall of Imperial Peace and unwilling to discover her purpose, Li Shuyao resolved not to leave Qingyao’s side.

Seeing the anxious expression on Li Shuyao’s face, Qingyao laughed softly and took her hand. “Why are you so afraid of her?”

Li Shuyao licked her slightly chapped lips, stubbornly replying, “I’m not afraid. Who says I’m afraid of her?”

“I’m just afraid of the unknown.”

The original novel’s palace intrigue did not reveal Song Fuwen’s exact role in the conflict.

Now it was known that the theme of this intrigue was “Theft,” orchestrated by Consort Tong, with suspects including Wu Yalianchu and another palace maid named Ruoxiang.

Consort Tong targeted those close to Qingyao. Since Wu Yalianchu was absent, Qingyao became the focus.

The timing, location, and characters all matched, yet an outsider suddenly appeared—someone who bore a grudge against Li Shuyao in reality.

How could Li Shuyao not worry?

Her gaze fixed on Song Fuwen’s movements. When she saw her carrying the wine jug toward Consort Tong, her heart tightened.

But within moments, she relaxed again.

Song Fuwen merely poured wine for Consort Nala beside Consort Tong, noticed no one’s cup was empty, and then quietly exited the hall.

It seemed she had been unnecessarily anxious.

At that moment, Qingyao tugged her sleeve and whispered, “If you’re really worried about her, how about I find a few people to lock her up?”

“There are many empty rooms in the Imperial Garden. We can lock her in one and leave her some food.”

“This banquet will end in less than an hour. Just an hour—nothing serious will happen. What do you think?”

Li Shuyao was vaguely tempted and seriously considered the plan’s feasibility.

Suddenly, her fingers brushed against something unfamiliar yet soft hidden in her sleeve.

She paused, near tears with a hint of desperation in her voice. “Maybe… it’s already too late…”