"Come, let's head inside," he said, gesturing for the two to follow him toward Yunxi Palace, where the Merit Banquet was to be held.
When they arrived at the Yunxi Palace, Lang Huan didn't go in. She let her father and Su Qing enter first, while she quietly slipped to the front of the palace door, waiting for someone.
Before long, a sedan chair arrived. The curtain was gently pulled aside, and a noble lady stepped down, carefully lifting her skirt so it wouldn't touch the ground. Lang Huan couldn't take her eyes off her.
Feng Yao was dressed in a soft lavender robe, with an elegant golden phoenix pattern woven into the fabric. Her skirt was embroidered with golden lotus flowers, shimmering under the light. A peacock hairpin rested in her hair, adding to the elegant and noble aura she exuded, even from a distance.
Just as Lang Huan was about to approach her, someone else appeared first—Prince of Yan. Today was a banquet to honor her and her father, and she couldn't understand why that man was here.
As the prince opened his mouth to speak, Lang Huan quickly stepped forward and bowed.
"Greetings to the Eldest Princess. May Your Highness be blessed with good health."
Feng Yao smiled gently. "There's no need to be so formal. Please, rise."
Lang Huan stood and reached out her hand.
"Let's go inside. The banquet is about to begin. I've been waiting for Your Highness for a long time—I thought you weren't coming."
Her words were warm and friendly, but there was a playful edge to her tone—clearly meant to provoke the Prince of Yan, who stood nearby.
Seeing this, Feng Yao leaned in and whispered softly to Lang Huan, "Please behave. There are many eyes on us today."
Lang Huan let go of her hand, stole a quick glance at the Prince of Yan, and cheekily stuck out her tongue. The prince's face darkened with anger.
Lang Huan and Feng Yao entered the banquet hall side by side, looking like a pair destined by the heavens—one a handsome young man, the other a graceful and beautiful woman. Though there was a ten years age gap between them, it was barely noticeable. Together, they looked perfectly matched. All eyes in the hall turned toward them.
Among the high-ranking officials, whispers began to spread. It seemed that within the court, the Eldest Princess was paving the way for the son of the Duke of Huguo. Many still remembered how Lang Huan had proposed to the princess during the previous banquet—it was clear there was something between them.
However, not all the rumors were favorable. Some believed it was nothing more than a political move—an attempt by the princess to unite her power with the Duke of Huguo. After all, who didn't know about the Eldest Princess's ambition?
The whispers continued to spread. For the sake of power, she didn't mind being in a relationship with a younger man
Seated on the main seat, the Emperor and Empress exchanged uneasy glances. The Emperor had planned to slowly strip the Eldest Princess, who was becoming more and more difficult to control. But if the Duke of Huguo truly stood by her side, wouldn't that only make her even more powerful—and dangerous?
Feng Yao knew what everyone in the banquet hall must be thinking, but she didn't care. She calmly took her place, and Lang Huan sat beside her without hesitation. Even when Lang Huan leaned in close and got clingy, Feng Yao wasn't bothered at all.
Su Qing and the Duke of Huguo were especially stunned by the sight.
Feng Yao raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued, when she caught Su Qing shooting her another cold look from the opposite side of the hall. She glanced between Su Qing and Lang Huan, wondering what that was all about.
A clear and commanding voice echoed through the grand hall—the Emperor had finally spoken. He praised the Duke of Huguo for his victory in the northern war, and his dedication to protecting Great Qi.
All eyes turned toward the high seat, listening respectfully. Except Lang Huan.
Completely unbothered and uninterested in the Emperor's speech, Lang Huan kept eating at her own pace. She even picked up food for Feng Yao, placing it on her plate with care.
While the rest of the guests sat stiffly, full of formality and tension, Lang Huan was happily enjoying a slice of roasted duck.
Feng Yao glanced at her from the side, looking both amused and a little exasperated.
Time passed, and eventually, the Emperor called her name.
Lang Huan was caught off guard. She choked on her food, and Feng Yao quickly handed her a cup of tea. The room filled with laughter at Lang Huan's clumsy reaction.
"The son of the Duke of Huguo has resolved the kidnapping case that threatened the peace of our great Qi. In order to uphold justice, I have even sentenced my own son to death. Let this as a reminder to all—whether commoner or member of the royal family—that the law applies equally to everyone.
Lang Huan only lowered her head slightly. Behind her calm expression, she felt cold. To her, it was nothing more than imperial formalities.
"Ye Langhuan," the Emperor spoke again, "Tell me, what reward do you wish for?"
Lang Huan slowly lifted her gaze. Beside her, Feng Yao sat quietly, a faint smile still on her lips.
"I would like to save that reward for another time, Your Majesty," Lang Huan said. "When I truly know what I want."
The Emperor raised his eyebrows but didn't press her. "Very well."
The banquet carried on with lively music and flowing wine. The wives and daughters of high-ranking officials came to greet the Eldest Princess. The Prime Minister and other ministers joined in from time to time, discussing matters of the court with Feng Yao.
Many young ladies were curious about Lang Huan, but none dared to approach, for fear of offending the Eldest Princess.
Her father and Su Qing were deep in conversation with some of the princes. Feeling bored, Lang Huan picked up a pot of wine and stepped outside the palace hall.
The cold air hit her skin. She found a quiet corner beneath one of the grand stone pillars, sat down, and leaned against it. Her fingers tightened around the wine pot. Above her, the winter moon shone bright and full—silent, distant, and beautiful.
She stared at it for a long moment, then let out a soft sigh.
"I miss you mom…" she whispered, the thought of her real mother suddenly pressing down on her heart.
Not long after, footsteps approached.
Feng Yao stopped a few steps away, arms folded loosely in her sleeves. She looked down at Lang Huan, who sat curled up beneath the pillar.
Feng Yao's gaze lingered on her face. The rims of her eyes were red, as if she had cried. She crouched slightly, voice softening.
"Are you drunk?"
Lang Huan shook her head and sniffed.
"No... I miss my mother," she said, her voice small and honest.
But the mother she meant was from another life, another world.
Feng Yao froze. Her breath caught in her throat. In her mind, the words carried different meaning.
Nine years ago, she had sent a group of assassins to kill a woman and her child.
The woman had died.
But the child had survived.
And now, that child sat in front of her—crying for the mother she had taken away.
Feng Yao's fingers curled into the fabric of her robe. A mix of guilt and sadness welled up in her chest.
Unable to say a word, she gently reached out and pulled Lang Huan into her arms.