It was not yet noon, but the Welcome Inn was already packed.
Yet the atmosphere inside could hardly be called lively...
Broad-backed, thick-waisted martial wanderers sat in groups of two or three, or claimed entire tables for themselves. None begrudged spending money on food: every table had ordered all seven or eight meat dishes the inn offered. But none chatted or spoke much. They simply kept their heads down, chewing slowly as they drank wine and ate meat, leaving the entire front hall chillingly quiet.
The sabers and swords laid across the tables only made the atmosphere more oppressive...
Not one of the neighbors who usually patronized the inn dared set foot inside when they saw this gathering.
The inn's waiters were trembling too. They dared neither call out orders nor tread heavily, terrified of disturbing these mighty gentlemen and earning a blade to the head.
Of everyone in the inn, only Zhao Miao behind the counter remained reasonably composed. Between greeting guests and keeping accounts, she could still sneak snacks privately delivered by the Embroidered Uniform Guard into her mouth, turning away to chew and swallow with her cheeks stuffed like a little squirrel.
In her eyes, everything about this inn was wonderful.
There were none of the palace's endless formalities, nor anyone constantly wearing a stern face and admonishing her, "You must do this and that," or, "You must win so-and-so's favor." Nor did she have to spend every day on tenterhooks, afraid she might do something wrong and offend someone again...
Everyone said that those born into the imperial family enjoyed wealth and glory from birth, never wanting for food or clothing.
But only those inside the palace knew how deep its waters ran, and how suffocating they were.
No family was more heartless than an emperor's!