A Fortune for an Heir

Connected buildings stretched beneath silver-white moonlight layered over glazed tiles like ocean waves.

Orange-yellow lanterns hung from every eave, wrapped in warm, lavish light, bathing the entire palace in a soft, cozy glow.

The plaza was spotless, without the slightest trace of the daytime conflict.

The Grand Music Master ordered the performance of "Zhao He."

The Sacred Emperor raised his cup, and all the ministers drank together.

Afterward, several hundred Palace Maids in embroidered brocade emerged from behind the curtains, beating thunder drums. The solemn atmosphere instantly dissolved, replaced by liveliness and lightness.

Liang Qu slept until dusk, then changed into loose clothes and came to the banquet with the Heavenly Feather Guards. The bitter scent of medicine still lingered on him, but after going hungry all day, it did nothing to diminish his appetite.

At the banquet.

Steam rose in waves.

Envoys from some tiny country whose name no one could recall offered a dance, setting off an intense contest of one-upmanship.

The envoys of every nation refused to be outdone, stepping forward one after another.

You never knew what talents people had until they displayed them—and once they did, it was startling. There was every kind imaginable: music, dancing, singing, and those who could do none of it but insisted on coming out to swing their arms and shake themselves twice, making fools of themselves.

Batu, the Northern Court envoy, was also seated among them. He silently picked at his food with chopsticks, and when something amusing happened, he would raise his cup along with everyone else, as though nothing had happened during the day. But no clever person would choose this moment to rub salt in the wound.

When the wolf suffered a temporary defeat, it was not the rabbit's place to offer comfort.

Besides them, the