Chapter 8 Banquet

Chapter 8: The Poetry Gathering

The next day, after his lessons ended, Lu Jiming received the poetry gathering invitation from Wei Yan.

Lu Jiming held no particularly high official rank and had not grown up in the capital; thus, he had neither close colleagues nor intimate friends. He had no choice but to attend alone—accompanied only by Lu Guanguan.

Since he need not wear his official robes today, Lu Jiming opted for a plain-colored long gown—unremarkable, easily lost in a crowd.

As he prepared to leave, Lu Guanguan trailed behind, murmuring softly, “Today’s poetry gathering is attended entirely by the capital’s nobility. They say clothes make the man—how is the young master expected to mingle with those young masters and aristocrats dressed like this?”

Lu Jiming chuckled lightly. “What would I gain from mingling with them?”

“Before the late master returned to his hometown, did he not instruct you? You are the eldest grandson of the main branch—and achieved the rank of Tanhua, third-highest in the imperial examinations. The Lu family now rests entirely upon your shoulders. If you refuse to advance through marital alliances, you should at least cultivate connections among the nobility. Such ties will prove invaluable for mutual support in your future career.”

He could not lecture indefinitely in the Eastern Palace; sooner or later, he would need to move forward. What Lu Guanguan said was not without merit. Yet Lu Jiming no longer wished to pursue such endeavors.

In his previous life, to fit in with his peers, he had knelt alongside all the officials to beg Wei Yan to appoint an empress. Looking back, few things truly haunted him—but this, indeed, ranked among them.

Since he had no intention of climbing higher in this life, cultivating ties with so many troublesome people served no purpose. The more people around him, the greater the risk of being swept along—forced, inevitably, to act against his will.

Seeing that Lu Jiming remained silent, Lu Guanguan assumed the young master still clung to scholarly aloofness, disdainful of worldly affairs, and immediately urged, “Young master, now that you’ve entered officialdom…”

Lu Jiming had no desire to explain himself deeply to Lu Guanguan. He patted his shoulder, cutting him off. “Guanguan—let me ask you: do you obey the master, or do you obey me?”

Lu Guanguan, taken aback by the sudden question, paused, momentarily stunned. “I serve the young master—naturally, I obey you.”

“Then remember this from now on: reviving the Lu family has nothing to do with us. We need only live our lives well.”

Lu Guanguan nodded, bewildered—thinking to himself that the young master had always cared most about the Lu family in the past. What had come over him today?

Today’s poetry gathering was held at Second Prince Wei Xuan’s garden in the western part of the capital—close enough that the carriage arrived in under half an hour.

The Crown Prince adored trumpet creeper flowers. Since childhood, Wei Xuan had admired his elder brother and planted many throughout his garden. It was now peak blooming season: wherever pink walls met black tiles, fiery red blossoms blazed.

Trumpet creeper flowers again… Lu Jiming thought of the jade pendant he had never given away—and couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt.

Many guests had already arrived. Having spent considerable time in the Eastern Palace, Lu Jiming had little contact with the sons of court officials. He recognized few faces, and those whose identities he vaguely knew were merely nodding acquaintances—greetings exchanged, then silence.

After brief reflection, Lu Jiming headed straight for Linfeng Pavilion at the garden’s rear. A eunuch had just announced that the Second Prince had arranged refreshments there. Where there were snacks, surely someone he knew would be present.

Just as Lu Jiming anticipated, the moment he arrived, he saw Yin Yuxie holding a pastry and stuffing it into the mouth of the person beside him.

Facing the path, Yin Yuxie spotted Lu Jiming the instant he finished feeding the pastry—and waved enthusiastically. “Lord Lu! You’re finally here! Come try some snacks!”

This was no palace—no strict formalities applied. Yin Yuxie, too, was far more unrestrained than he’d been a few days earlier at the Crown Prince’s birthday celebration.

Knowing Lu Jiming generally disliked large gatherings—and likely knew few attendees—he warmly invited him to join.

Though Lu Jiming had few close friends in the capital, he was not unsociable nor fond of solitude. He’d come to Linfeng Pavilion precisely hoping Yin Yuxie might be there. Hearing his call, he walked over immediately.

“This is Lu Jiming—Lord Lu, whom I mentioned to you,” Yin Yuxie introduced Lu Jiming to the person beside him. “Lord Lu, this is Zixiao.”

Huan Zixiao swallowed the pastry Yin Yuxie had just fed him, turned toward Lu Jiming, and bowed. “Greetings, Lord Lu. I am Huan Zixiao.”

“Huan Zixiao…” Lu Jiming studied Huan Zixiao’s face—breathtakingly beautiful—and fell momentarily silent. He hadn’t expected to encounter the future Consort Huan of his previous life mere moments after entering the garden.

Only with Huan Zixiao standing beside Yin Yuxie did Lu Jiming recall that, in his former life, Yin Yuxie had been closest to Huan Zixiao—nearly inseparable. While lecturing in the Eastern Palace, he often heard Yin Yuxie speak of him.

His first meeting with Huan Zixiao in his previous life should have occurred at Yin Yuxie’s funeral. Afterward, they met only a handful of times—but by then, Lu Jiming had already forgotten their friendship.

Later, when Huan Zixiao became an imperial consort, they occasionally crossed paths in the palace. In his memory, Huan Zixiao was dignified, delicate, unable to bear even minor hardship—demanding excellence in food, clothing, and daily necessities. Yet his temperament was gentle and talkative; he never made things difficult for servants, earning him widespread affection.

But the Huan Zixiao before him still had pastry crumbs clinging to the corner of his mouth—the look of a cat who’d just fought for its meal.

Assuming Lu Jiming didn’t know who Huan Zixiao was, Yin Yuxie continued the introduction. “Grand Tutor Huan is Zixiao’s father.”

Lu Jiming snapped back to reality and smiled. “Young Master Huan—I’ve long heard of you.”

“Long heard of?” Yin Yuxie covered his mouth and laughed. “What, exactly, is there to have ‘long heard of’?”

Huan Zixiao disliked Yin Yuxie mocking him in front of someone newly met and elbowed him. Yin Yuxie dodged swiftly, still chuckling, and asked Lu Jiming if he’d like to try some snacks.

“Which is the best here?” Lu Jiming asked.

Mentioning food, Yin Yuxie perked up instantly. “That cherry *sulao* over there is delicious—I’ll fetch a bowl for Lord Lu. Cherries are nearly out of season; this is the last batch of fresh ones stored in the Second Prince’s ice cellar. For his elder brother’s sake, he’s brought them all out.”

Yin Yuxie dashed off in a flash—leaving Lu Jiming and Huan Zixiao facing each other.

Huan Zixiao shook his head helplessly. “That fool forgets everything when food’s involved. Please don’t take offense, Lord Lu.”

“Young Master Yin possesses a childlike heart—which is rather endearing.”

“A childlike heart? *Him?*” Huan Zixiao burst into laughter. “So foolish—he never knows what he’s thinking.”

Though he spoke thus, his tone and manner were unmistakably protective—and biased. Lu Jiming knew that if he agreed now, Huan Zixiao would inevitably refute him—and instead praise Yin Yuxie.

This reaction—combined with their earlier banter—was precisely that of two young men who had fallen in love without realizing it. Lu Jiming looked at Huan Zixiao.

So—the emperor’s favorite consort in his previous life wasn’t as perfectly content as he appeared on the surface?

“Here—cherry *sulao*.” Yin Yuxie bustled back, carrying two bowls. He handed one to Lu Jiming and, with utter naturalness, passed the other to Huan Zixiao.

Lu Jiming picked up the small spoon in the bowl and took a bite of the *sulao*. The sweet-and-sour cherry jam blended with rich milk fragrance—delicious, indeed. Yin Yuxie hadn’t wasted all those years obsessing over food.

Huan Zixiao, however, grimaced and stuck out his tongue. “Too sour!”

Yin Yuxie leaned over. Huan Zixiao scooped a piece with his spoon—and fed it into Yin Yuxie’s mouth. “It’s too sour. You can have it all.”

“What do you mean?” Yin Yuxie retorted. “You’re far pickier than I am. I wonder how many meals that paltry official salary of yours will stretch once you become an official.”

“That’s none of your concern.” Huan Zixiao playfully shoved Yin Yuxie aside. “You’d better hurry and beg His Highness the Crown Prince to select you as his consort—then you’ll finally get to taste all the finest delicacies in the world.”

Remembering Lu Jiming was still watching, Yin Yuxie quickly clarified—afraid of misunderstanding. “We were just teasing as children. I said my dream was to taste every delicacy under heaven—and then write books to become a master in my own right. Zixiao joked that all the world’s rarest delicacies reside in the palace—and you can’t taste them all unless you enter it.”

Huan Zixiao interjected, “So someone said, ‘Then I’ll enter the palace as a consort.’ And I replied: with your talents, you stand a far better chance of becoming a eunuch.”

“Say that again—and see what happens?” Yin Yuxie feigned a swat at Huan Zixiao.

Huan Zixiao laughed and repeatedly begged for mercy. “Good brother—given your current stature and looks, not to mention Crown Princess, even Imperial Consort…”

Yin Yuxie clapped a hand over Huan Zixiao’s mouth. “I told you—stop talking nonsense.”

Lu Jiming watched the two young men banter and joke, a faint smile on his lips. Thinking of Huan Zixiao—who truly would become an imperial consort twenty years hence—a quiet melancholy welled within him.

“I was wondering where everyone had vanished to—so you’ve all hidden yourselves here.” Wei Yan strode in, accompanied by Yan Huai and Wei Yi. The small pavilion suddenly felt crowded.

Besides Lu Jiming and the other two, several others were present. Seeing the Crown Prince arrive, they immediately set down whatever they held and knelt respectfully. Wei Yan bade them rise, instructing everyone to enjoy themselves freely today—without restraint. Then he approached Lu Jiming, reaching out as if to assist him in rising.

This time, Lu Jiming moved swiftly—and deftly evaded him. Wei Yan, failing to make contact, felt frustrated—but dared not press Lu Jiming too hard before witnesses. He simply said, “Xuping—the poetry gathering is about to begin. Best head to the main hall first.”

Lu Jiming agreed.

He hung back on purpose, keeping an eye on the others. Yan Huai walked behind, glancing back every few steps to check on Ning Guo, who was following. Prince Rui's son, Wei Yi, walked alongside Yan Huai and followed suit, looking back each time Yan Huai did.

Yin Yuxie and Huan Zixiao whispered to each other about something amusing, completely unfazed by the crown prince's presence.

Only Wei Yan walked alone at the front, seeming lonely.

For some reason, Lu Jiming hated seeing Wei Yan looking so isolated. He felt that someone as sociable as Wei Yan should always be at the center of a crowd.

Yet now, despite having so many people around him, Wei Yan still seemed alone—everyone followed him, but everyone's mind—and gaze—was on someone else.

"Xuping, what are you doing, spacing out back there? Hurry up and catch up," Wei Yan suddenly stopped and called out to Lu Jiming, who had fallen behind.

Lu Jiming's heart stirred, and he quickly strode forward.

Author's Note:

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An extra chapter tomorrow night [winks and drops a rose].