VHBF – Chapter 33 Emperor Daddy (Part 10)

As dusk approached, the state banquet began.

Palace attendants bustled about the hall, having already arranged the seats and tables. In Da Xuan, it was customary to sit cross-legged or kneeling on the ground, especially among the upper nobility, as this was considered a form of etiquette.

Among common folk, however, chairs and stools were more common—people busy with their livelihoods ate quickly before rushing back to work, without fussing over elaborate rituals, simply eating at tables while seated on stools.

The state banquet followed the traditional etiquette of sitting cross-legged. Thick wool carpets were spread across the floor, and long tables were shared by three people each, arranged according to rank.

Before the banquet began and before the Emperor arrived, palace attendants, under the guidance of the head eunuch, set out the ornaments and served the appetizers.

The ornaments referred to the decorative flowers used for the setting. The national flower of Da Chen was a brilliant blue blossom, with layered petals and a golden center sprinkled with flecks of bright yellow. It rivaled the peony in splendor, yet carried an air of noble aloofness. People adored it.

This flower was called the Blue Tail, also known as the Emperor’s Flower—a testament to how highly it was esteemed. Each table had a flawless white vase holding a single Blue Tail, elegant and pleasing to the eye.

The appetizers consisted of fruits and sweets, all tributes unique to the palace and unavailable outside. All officials of fourth rank and above were permitted to bring their families into the palace, and any legitimate children could accompany their fathers—without limit.

This was a rare opportunity for their families to see the splendor of the court, so the ministers naturally brought their wives and children, even toddlers of three or five years old.

Yinyin held her father’s hand. She was so tiny, and her father so tall, that her little arm stretched uncomfortably. Wei Jue bent down slightly, but Xiao Yuzi quickly urged, “Your Majesty, this is the once-a-year state banquet. Perhaps it would be better to let the princess walk on her own.”

He dared not say anything that contradicted reason. After all, the Emperor could bring the child to morning court and even let her sit on the Dragon Throne—would he really care about such trifles of etiquette?

But while the Emperor feared nothing, the princess was a girl. If she could maintain a good reputation now, it would help her in the future—she might even marry an outstanding consort one day. Xiao Yuzi worried endlessly.

“All the ministers are watching. No one dares interfere with Your Majesty, the ruler of all under heaven, but if the princess establishes a good name in court, her future will be all the smoother.”

He meant that this was the little princess’s first formal appearance. Not only were the court officials present, but even several retired elder statesmen and princes of the imperial clan had come. It was worth being careful.

Wei Jue slowed his pace without realizing, adjusting to Yinyin’s tiny steps. Fortunately, it wasn’t far. They had come by imperial palanquin, and after ascending a few steps, they arrived.

The eunuch called out loudly: “His Majesty arrives! Princess Chaoyang arrives!”

“Long live the Emperor! Long live, Princess!” The ministers knelt in salute. A low command followed: “Rise.”

Only then did they stand and take their seats.

Word had long spread throughout Chang’an that the Emperor had brought back a three-year-old princess from outside the palace and doted on her immensely, even holding her during court sessions.

The civil and military officials had only ever seen the back of her head, since she was always asleep in her father’s arms. They had been curious for ages, as had their families, who had heard the rumors but hardly dared to believe them.

Now, as they cautiously glanced up, they finally saw her clearly.

The Emperor walked slowly, holding the princess’s hand. The little girl wore a bright yellow palace dress, the same color as the Emperor’s dragon robe. Seeing her so openly cherished startled everyone—clearly, the Emperor’s affection for her exceeded all rumor.

She was a tiny ball, fair and chubby, as delicate as a carved jade doll, utterly adorable.

Though she tried to imitate the Emperor’s stern expression, her big clear eyes betrayed her curiosity, darting about restlessly. When she met others’ gazes, her cheeks flushed red, a mix of shyness and excitement.

It was obvious she had a lively, innocent nature, far removed from the Emperor’s cold and ruthless image. Yet father and daughter, dressed in the same color, looked perfectly matched.

When they sat, Yinyin naturally climbed onto the Dragon Throne, sharing the seat with her father. The throne was large enough to fit two more of her, but the sight shocked the court nonetheless.

Still, it was a festive occasion. No one dared spoil the mood before the Emperor, so they all pretended nothing was amiss.

A state banquet was meant for the sovereign and his ministers to enjoy together, unlike the Emperor’s birthday celebrations, which required offerings and ceremonies.

The master of ceremonies declared the auspicious hour had arrived, opening the banquet. He unrolled a scroll and recited a long passage reviewing Da Chen’s major events of the past year, and the Emperor’s achievements, before offering prayers for an even more prosperous year ahead.

By the time this lengthy preamble ended, nearly half an hour had passed.

Yinyin, being only three, grew restless, but she endured for her father’s sake, clenching her little face tight, secretly gripping his sleeve in her tiny fists.

When the announcement finally came that the banquet could begin, she exhaled in relief, stuck out her little tongue, and thought: Yinyin is starving!

She assumed her father must be hungry too, so she quickly grabbed a plate of pastries, stuffed one into her own mouth, and offered the other to Wei Jue with a soft, milky voice: “Father, you eat too.”

Several ministers noticed this. They thought: His Majesty is obsessively clean. This child, spoiled beyond measure, dares feed him by hand? Even if she is his daughter, surely he would not accept it.

But to their utter shock, the famously fastidious Emperor calmly accepted the pastry and ate it without expression.

That was a pastry! Sticky and sweet—and touched by little fingers—yet the Emperor ate it?!

One minister gaped and nudged his neighbor. “Did you just see that? The Emperor ate what the princess fed him!”

The other blinked, dazed. “I… I think I did…”

And this was only the beginning of the surprises. This banquet became the little princess’s grand debut, leaving a deep impression on the high ministers and noble ladies alike.

Because the princess was present, Xiao Yuzi, with the Emperor’s approval, asked the Ministry of Rites and the banquet master to remove any suggestive performances. The program was solemn and proper.

Were it not such a formal occasion, he might even have suggested some children’s performances, just to delight the princess.

Even so, the dignified performances drew glances toward the Emperor again and again. Xiao Yuzi, serving nearby, concealed his pride behind a modest smile.

Though restrained, the dances and music were still dazzling to little Yinyin, who had seen so little of the world. Her eyes sparkled, mouth agape, hands clapping in delight. She exclaimed again and again, “Wow! So amazing! The pretty sisters dance so well!”

She felt both admiration and envy. Even such a young child loved beauty, and in her heart she dreamed: one day, could she also be as beautiful as those sisters, able to dance and play music, the loveliest girl of all?

Wei Jue cast a glance at the dancers, then lowered his eyes, uninterested. But when he noticed Yinyin’s bright gaze, just as when she looked at him, he frowned slightly. He picked up a piece of chicken with his chopsticks, held it to her lips, and said curtly: “Eat.”

Her attention snapped back. She smiled sweetly, opened her mouth, and ate it. Then she praised him: “Father’s meat is so yummy!”

She eagerly shared her thoughts: “Father, those pretty sisters dance so well, and they’re so beautiful!”

Then, a little anxious yet hopeful, she asked: “Father, do you think Yinyin can be that amazing someday too?”

The man looked into her bright eyes, paused, then replied: “You are the second most beautiful.”

Anyone else would have been puzzled, but Yinyin understood instantly. Her eyes lit up and she clapped her hands: “Yes! Father’s right! Yinyin is the second most beautiful in the world! How could I not be amazing? When I grow up, I might be even better than those pretty sisters!”

For once, the cold lines of Wei Jue’s mouth curved slightly.

Those watching were stunned again. From accepting food from the princess, to personally feeding her, and now to smiling—this was the same ruthless emperor who had executed men with his own hand as a youth? Their understanding of him shattered again and again.

Yinyin, of course, understood none of this. To her, it would be strange if her father didn’t love her.

When the dancers finished, Yinyin applauded enthusiastically, her little voice calling out, “You’re amazing!”

The dancers froze, then smiled as they bowed. Throughout their performance, they had felt a gaze upon them—too intense to risk distraction. Only now did they see it came from the little princess.

To be sincerely admired by a three-year-old princess, even without the Emperor’s notice, filled them with joy. Her shining eyes seemed to hold stars, her little palms red from clapping so hard.

As they withdrew, some dared to glance back at the tiny figure beside the Emperor. Her small frame was hidden behind the great table, but her adorable face peeked out. She even waved her little hand in farewell.

From that day on, a legend of the little princess spread in the palace’s dance halls. The dancers adored her. Though their lowly status meant they could rarely see her, it inspired them to practice harder, hoping to perform again before her someday.

To be sincerely appreciated—even by a child—was rare. It made their hearts light.

Meanwhile, ministers had brought their children to the banquet as well. Those whose fathers held higher rank sat closer to the Emperor.

While the adults dared only to sneak glances, the children stared openly at the princess.

They had heard she was picked up by the Emperor outside the palace.

The youngest watched her intently, more interested in the princess than in the dances or the Emperor. They were filled with awe.

Just look! The little princess had the courage to sit right beside the fearsome Emperor, who was said to be so terrifying that even babies stopped crying at the sound of his voice. How brave she was!

In their homes, their elders had painted the Emperor as a fearsome tiger who devoured men. For the princess to sit by him without fear earned their respect.

In the front row sat the young grandson of the Grand Preceptor, his eyes fixed on her. His mother tapped him, scolding him to sit properly and eat, whispering a warning: “Keep staring, and the Emperor will feed you to the tigers.”

The boy, Cao Lian, reluctantly looked away. “Mother, I like the princess. Can I be her friend?”

The same thought stirred in several other children.

Even those usually proud of their noble lineage felt drawn to the fearless princess. Children admired courage, and if she dared sit beside the Emperor, she must be very strong indeed.

One great-grandson of the Grand Chancellor swallowed his food hastily and whispered, “Great-Grandfather, why isn’t the princess afraid of the Emperor?”

The aged chancellor squinted, replying softly, “Because she is the Emperor’s child.”

A cherished child has no reason to fear her father.

The boy hadn’t heard clearly. “What did you say, Great-Grandfather?”

The old man patted his head kindly, teasing, “Do you want to be friends with the princess?”

The boy’s face turned red as he nodded vigorously.

Of course he did.