That night, in the palace.
After reviewing memorials for an hour, Emperor Jing of Zhou suddenly set down the Vermilion Brush and addressed Wang Cheng, who stood attending him.
"Go to the Eastern Palace and summon the Crown Prince.
He will dine with me."
Wang Cheng paused in surprise.
The Crown Prince had left his quarters to assume his public duties half a month ago, but this would be the first time father and son had shared a meal.
Wang Cheng answered, "Yes," and went himself.
Dinner was laid out in the eastern side pavilion: rabbit with scallions, pan-fried shad, fermented vegetable soup, and a plate of pickled melon.
The emperor's meals had never favored extravagance.
When Crown Prince Jiang Heng arrived, the emperor was already seated behind the table.
Seeing him enter, he merely lifted his eyelids. "Sit."
The Crown Prince bowed and took his seat.
Father and son faced each other, with four dishes, a soup, and a roomful of silence between them.
Wang Cheng approached with a bowl of medicine. The emperor took it and sipped. His brows drew together slightly, but he did not complain of its bitterness.
"You attended the entire court session today." Emperor Jing of Zhou set the medicine down gently, rinsed his mouth, and picked up a morsel without looking at him.
"What did you make of Wei Zi's words in the hall today?"
The Crown Prince's chopsticks paused.
"I was startled by his words," he began, his voice clear.
"And won over by his heart."
"Oh?" The emperor's chopsticks hovered in midair.
He said nothing more, slowly putting the food into his mouth and chewing for a long time.
"You have learned to distinguish between the two," the emperor continued.
"When I was your age, I still could not."
"Father,