Chapter 54

Chapter 54

The day without the usual work routine passed quickly. The next morning, Ming Tang rose with a sigh, selected two audited account books, and took them to Mrs. Pei.

Mrs. Pei had reviewed the account books Ming Tang had checked the previous day and found no errors. When Ming Tang presented the new ones, she merely glanced through them before setting them aside.

Mindful of the approaching Empress’s Birthday, Mrs. Pei called Ming Tang to Jinghua Hall and asked with concern, "On the day of the Empress’s Birthday, you must accompany me into the palace. Have you learned palace etiquette?"

Ming Tang nodded. "My mother once hired a retired palace official to instruct me."

Mrs. Pei approved. It was good that she had learned the etiquette—that was paramount. As for other matters, she trusted Ming Tang would not make any grave mistakes.

Pei Ze, who had been waiting impatiently for them to conclude their discussion, could no longer contain himself. He rushed forward, tugged at Ming Tang’s hand, and pleaded, "Mama, come color Uncle with me~"

As he spoke, he furtively glanced at Mrs. Pei, fearing her disapproval.

Mrs. Pei waved her hand dismissively. "Go on, go on."

Too young to grasp the concept of time, Pei Ze had been eagerly anticipating the next day since coloring the first flower the previous evening. Now, his patience was completely exhausted. Without even waiting to go to Chengyi Hall, he dragged Ming Tang directly to Mrs. Pei’s study, instructing Nanny Zhou to place the "Uncle" portrait on the table. He squeezed in front of Ming Tang and looked up expectantly. "Mama~ Hurry... If you color slowly, Uncle won’t come back~"

Ming Tang chuckled, selecting a brush from the holder. She smiled at a maid who had already taken the initiative to prepare cinnabar pigment—such diligence was no surprise for someone who had earned a place in Mrs. Pei’s inner household.

Holding Pei Ze in her arms, Ming Tang dipped the brush lightly in the pigment, placed it in his small hand, and guided him as they carefully colored the second blank flower. Then she set the brush aside.

But Pei Ze still seemed unsatisfied. Eyeing the brush resting on the stand, he looked tempted to grab it and color another flower himself.

Ming Tang quickly stopped his little hand, averting a potential red-paint disaster. "Even your aunt here hopes your uncle will return as soon as the flowers are filled, but she’s not as impatient as you. Do you really want to color all the flowers today?"

Pei Ze nodded. "Why not?"

After all, his aunt had said that once all the flowers were colored, Uncle would return. So if he colored them all today, wouldn’t that mean Uncle would come back today?

Ming Tang rubbed her forehead, racking her brain for a way to explain the reality to Pei Ze in terms he could understand.

Outside the study, Mrs. Pei, who had overheard Ming Tang’s remark about "hoping for Pei Yue’s return," couldn’t help but shake her head with a smile. No wonder the number of flowers had seemed a bit too few...

With an inward sigh at the impatience of youth, Mrs. Pei turned and returned to her inner chambers.

Back in the study, Ming Tang, having finally convinced Pei Ze of the truth, picked up the brush again. She had realized that Pei Ze simply had a newfound obsession with coloring—he just wanted to play a coloring game.

Soon, the day of the Empress's Birthday arrived.

The Empress's Birthday, marking the birth of the empress, traditionally required noblewomen and officials' wives of the fifth rank and above to enter the palace to pay their respects. This year, however, the emperor had ordered the Ministry of Rites to make the celebrations grander. After much deliberation, the ministry expanded the scope to include wives of the seventh rank and above.

The announcement created a sensation in the capital. Jewelry shops along West Paifang Street were packed with women rushing to buy accessories for the occasion.

It was only then that the manager of Rui Fu Lou understood his proprietor’s earlier instructions. While busily attending to customers and recommending the pre-prepared jewelry, he also had craftsmen work overtime to produce gilded pieces for sale.

In the capital, many minor officials’ families couldn’t afford pure gold jewelry, and quite a few of them were among those urgently seeking accessories for the occasion. Riding this wave, Rui Fu Lou sold a considerable number of such pieces, and the ledgers showed remarkable figures.

Given Ming Tang’s usual practices, the manager mused that aside from the high-ranking ladies who would personally kowtow to the empress, no one in the capital was looking forward to the Empress's Birthday more eagerly than he was.

—After all, once the big business was done, it would be time for the proprietor to review the accounts and distribute bonuses.

Thinking of the recent transactions, the manager rose early on the day of the celebration and hurried to the shop to review the books once more, his mood exceedingly cheerful.

As expected, the wives of sixth and seventh-rank officials, who had unexpectedly gained the chance to enter the palace, also rose early. Most were a mix of excitement and pride.

After all, this was the palace where the emperor and empress resided. Normally, they wouldn’t even have the opportunity to step into the imperial city. Now, not only could they enter the palace, but they might even catch a glimpse of the empress herself—how incredibly fortunate!

Mrs. Chen was among them.

In the past, she hadn’t understood the rule that only wives of the fifth rank and above could attend the palace audience. Hearing that Mrs. Ming attended the celebrations in full regalia every year, she had assumed that as long as someone in the family held an official position, they could enter the palace.

When Chen Wenyao received his official post, Mrs. Chen had been thrilled, imagining she might one day see the emperor’s palace.

But as the day approached and Ming Tang showed no signs of preparation, Mrs. Chen couldn’t resist reminding her. Her ever-unsettling daughter-in-law had smiled softly and said something both gentle and cutting: "Madam, preparing now is rather premature. It will be at least three to five years before we can attend the palace audience. If we prepare now, the clothes will lose their luster by then. It’s better to wait."

Mrs. Chen had been puzzled at the time. Everyone said the Empress's Birthday was approaching—why wait three to five years? Surely her daughter-in-law was just making excuses. Only later did she learn that lower-ranking officials’ wives simply weren’t eligible.

But now, look! She could enter after all. Clearly, Ming Tang had been misinformed and had just been showing off her noble upbringing.

Mrs. Chen silently thanked the empress for her generosity in allowing them to enter the palace and share in the blessings. She adjusted the golden hairpin in her hair, smoothed her clothes, and strode out of her chambers with her head held high.

Wu Shi was already waiting in the main hall. Seeing Mrs. Chen’s attire, she paused briefly but said nothing, merely offering her arm as they left together to board the carriage.

Chen Wenyao was deeply uneasy about his mother entering the palace but could say little at this point. He only urged, "In the palace, just follow instructions. Don’t act on your own." With a nod to Wu Shi, he said no more.

The carriage moved forward, merging into the procession of carriages. After passing through multiple checkpoints and entering the imperial city, they were guided to a square outside the palace, where they alighted.

Following the eunuchs’ directions, the women proceeded in silence.

The towering vermilion walls, their glazed tiles glinting in the sunlight, and the solemn atmosphere along the way gradually tempered Mrs. Chen’s excitement. She hardly dared to glance around, focusing instead on the eunuchs and palace maids leading the way, their steps so precisely uniform they seemed measured.

The palace walls seemed identical no matter where she looked. After passing through numerous gateways and corridors, Mrs. Chen was somewhat disoriented when they finally reached their destination—Phoenix Palace, the empress’s residence.

The grand palace, with its double eaves and ornate dougong, stood atop high white jade steps, appearing to float among the clouds, exuding an imperial grandeur.

Mrs. Chen’s earlier bravado had completely vanished. Head bowed, she followed the eunuchs to her assigned spot and only relaxed slightly once they had moved on, allowing her to survey her surroundings.

Her gaze instinctively landed on Ming Tang, who was walking calmly through the crowd, led by a eunuch toward the front.

Mrs. Chen didn’t notice Ming Tang’s attire at all—only her composed posture, straight back, and natural elegance, as though she were entirely undisturbed by the grandeur of Phoenix Palace. Despite keeping her eyes slightly lowered, Ming Tang’s natural grace made her stand out effortlessly among the cautious crowd.

Was this the same lazy, extravagant former daughter-in-law who had kept to the household all day? Mrs. Chen stared until Ming Tang disappeared into the foremost ranks, blocked from view.

Mrs. Pei, too, was pleased with Ming Tang’s demeanor. After exchanging nods with several noblewomen nearby, she turned to Ming Tang with approval.

Ming Tang, who was only so composed because she had visited the Forbidden City and even palace-themed film sets before, thought to herself: ...No wonder people say, "You never know when your past efforts will come in handy."

So her past vacations spent navigating throngs of sightseers instead of resting at home had all been preparation for today.

With a subtle smile, she nodded and accepted Mrs. Pei’s praise with dignity.

Yes, she was just that poised and self-possessed.

Once all the noblewomen were in place, the time prescribed by the Ministry of Rites approached. The empress had yet to emerge, but eunuchs first came forward, seeking out the silver-haired matrons among the crowd. On the empress’s orders—"Elders need not perform the full ceremonial prostration"—they respectfully escorted them aside.

This sudden gesture caused some restless murmurs among those at the back, but the veteran participants took it in stride, calmly following the eunuchs.

The empress’s exemption for the elderly wasn’t new. Those fortunate enough to have met her knew her graciousness manifested in countless ways.

Mrs. Pei had never regarded herself as elderly, but this year, she too was among those the eunuchs attended to. With a slight nod to Ming Tang, she followed them aside.

At least she could see that Ming Tang was perfectly capable of commanding the situation.

Ming Tang couldn’t let down Mrs. Pei’s earlier praise. She showed no sign of panic despite the sudden departure of the senior who had brought her. Under the gaze of the crowd, she appeared even more poised and graceful.

Once the formalities were complete, the Empress, dressed in a majestic crimson phoenix robe, stepped out from the main hall. She cast a glance at the crowd below, noticeably larger than in past years, and calmly took her seat on the prepared phoenix throne.

The master of ceremonies signaled at the appropriate moment. In solemn silence, the assembly bowed in unison at his clear command, chanting, "Long live the Empress!"

The sky was clear and cloudless. A few unidentified birds alighted briefly on the distant eaves, only to be startled by the chorus of voices and swiftly take flight, vanishing into the distance.

Mrs. Chen obeyed, bowing again and again, but as she lowered her head, she stole a glance up at the jade steps. There, atop the high platform, a figure in red sat upon the throne. Even from afar, she exuded an intangible majesty, making Mrs. Chen feel as though she were gazing upon a goddess descended from the heavens.

In the silence, Mrs. Chen even almost imagined she heard the Empress’s gentle command for them to rise.

The court ritual was elaborate yet simple. Under the guidance of the master of ceremonies and the ubiquitous palace eunuchs, this grander-than-usual ritual concluded smoothly. The Empress was the first to rise, returning to the main hall of Fengyi Palace.

The ladies of rank were then led out of the palace by the young eunuchs.

Mrs. Chen, however, couldn’t help but notice that some ahead of her did not exit with the rest but were instead guided in another direction.

Hesitating for a moment, and reassured by the ceremony’s conclusion and the Empress’s benevolent demeanor, Mrs. Chen mustered some courage and quietly asked a nearby attendant, "Might I ask, young eunuch, why are those ladies not leaving the palace now?"

The young eunuch, with a naturally cheerful face, glanced at her and replied evenly, "They have been summoned by Her Majesty the Empress. Naturally, they need not leave yet."

Wu Shi, though, knew from her mother that palace eunuchs disliked being addressed as "sir." She quickly tugged at Mrs. Chen’s sleeve and shook her head slightly, signaling her to stop.

Mrs. Chen, finding the young eunuch obliging in his answers, shed her earlier trepidation and started acting like he was just a servant. Yet she was a lady of rank who had come to pay respects to the Empress—her status was different.

Ignoring Wu Shi’s subtle warnings, she pressed on with her questions.

Wu Shi suffered through a barrage of "young eunuch this" and "young eunuch that," inwardly cursing the palace’s interminable hallways and her mother-in-law’s foolishness. The moment they stepped out of the palace gates and into their carriage, she could no longer contain her anger. "This is the imperial palace, Mother. Did you think this was a social call? Must you chatter so much?"

Mrs. Chen, still lost in reverie over the splendor of Fengyi Palace, was jolted by Wu Shi’s furious tone. Realizing the insult, she flared up in turn: "This Wu Shi—I once thought her far better than that Ming woman, by a long shot! Now it seems she’s just as insolent!"

"Who are you calling a chatterbox?" Mrs. Chen snapped. "The eunuch didn’t object, yet you dare scold your mother-in-law to her face? Is this how your family raised you?"

Wu Shi had long harbored grievances against Mrs. Chen but had endured them for Chen Wenyao’s sake. Hearing this, she scoffed coldly, "Mother may as well wait and hear what my husband has to say about this."

She knew her husband would hit the roof once he learned of his mother’s behavior.

The outright threat—wielding her son like a weapon—struck Mrs. Chen like a slap. It was a clear message: her daughter-in-law had realized she held no real authority in the household, and controlling her son meant controlling her. Memories of past humiliations at Ming Tang’s hands through her son came flooding back. Her authority as a mother-in-law eroding, Mrs. Chen’s face darkened. She barely restrained herself, remembering that Wu Shi was the daughter of a military family—if it came to blows, she might not fare well. Clenching her jaw, she stayed silent.

The two stewed in silence all the way home, neither speaking a word as they returned to their respective quarters.

Meanwhile, in Fengyi Palace, the ladies of rank summoned by the Empress were ushered to their seats by palace maids.

Ming Tang followed a maid into the main hall, scanning the room for familiar faces—duchesses and marchionesses, high-ranking officials’ consorts.

She nodded to her mother, Mrs. Ming, then took her seat behind Mrs. Pei as directed.

Mrs. Pei turned naturally and whispered, "Her Majesty is exceedingly wise. Should she speak to you, do not be afraid. Speak plainly."

After a brief exchange, the two fell silent, awaiting the Empress’s summons from her inner chambers.

The hall was filled with ladies of rank, yet it was remarkably quiet. Any conversation was hushed, barely audible even to those nearby.

Thus, when a woman’s voice carried in from outside, many were taken aback.

Only those seated near the entrance could see: outside stood a woman in dazzling court robes, smiling as she spoke with a palace maid. It seemed she wished to enter.