Chapter 567: Chapter-567
Even for the high-ranking officials, it was an unimaginable sum. A seasoned Vanguard general, who bled on the borders for the empire, made a salary of roughly two thousand taels a year.
Instantly, the atmosphere in the hall ignited. The polite, restrained banquet transformed into a fierce, cutthroat battlefield of vanity and ambition.
For the next hour, the center of the Great Hall became a stage for the civil court’s desperate bid for imperial favor.
The daughter of the Minister of Rites stepped up first. Dressed in vibrant pink silk, she performed a breathtaking, gravity-defying ribbon dance while simultaneously playing a small, lap-sized zither. Her ribbons snapped through the air like painted snakes, perfectly on beat with the furious, beautiful melody she plucked from the strings. The noblemen cheered loudly, their faces flushed with wine.
Before her applause could even fade, the top scholars of the Imperial Academy rushed the floor.
It was an endless, dazzling parade of civil refinement.
A young, slightly tipsy minister recited an extemporaneous, booming poem praising the Emperor’s divine right to rule, his voice echoing off the jade pillars.
Two rival scholars engaged in a rapid-fire calligraphy duel, writing massive, sweeping characters of poetry on giant scrolls of rice paper while their supporters cheered them on.
One of the Prime Minister’s protégés even painted an entire landscape of a roaring tiger using two ink brushes at the exact same time—while completely blindfolded.
It was a mesmerizing display of talent, but Heena could see the absolute viciousness beneath it all. The noble ladies were practically stepping on each other’s toes to get closer to the dais. The scholars were using their poetry to take subtle, veiled jabs at rival political factions. They were all smiling, but their eyes were burning with a starving desperation for the ten thousand taels and the political elevation that came with it.
At the Vanguard table, Samuel watched the frantic performances while casually peeling a lychee.
"Look at them," Samuel murmured, leaning close to Heena. "Like a flock of starving pigeons fighting over a single breadcrumb. So elegant. So desperate."
Heena took a slow sip of her tea, entirely unimpressed by the frantic display of silk and ink.
As the performances began to wind down and the floor cleared, the Emperor’s eyes drifted away from the exhausted, panting scholars and landed directly on the Vanguard tables.
"Well?" the Emperor called out, an amused, challenging glint in his eye as he leaned forward. "What are you men of the military just sitting there for? Are our fierce generals not going to show us something? Do you have no desire for the gold?"
The Vanguard generals paused, holding their massive wine bowls halfway to their mouths. General Lin and General Zhao looked at each other, rubbing the backs of their scarred necks awkwardly.
"We humbly ask for Your Majesty’s forgiveness!" General Lin boomed, his rough voice completely shattering the delicate atmosphere the musicians had built. He bowed his head with a sheepish, booming laugh. "We are men of the battlefield! Our hands only know how to hold heavy swords, break enemy lines, and drink cheap liquor! We don’t have anything delicate or interesting like poetry or blindfolded painting to offer!"
Normally, a military man might perform a traditional sword dance to save face. But the Vanguard generals found such displays too theatrical, utterly boring, and frankly, a waste of perfectly good drinking time. They were killers, not stage performers.
A wave of quiet, condescending laughter rippled through the civil officials’ tables. The scholars hid their sneers behind their silk sleeves, thoroughly enjoying the military’s lack of culture.
’Barbarians,’ they whispered among themselves. ’They only know how to spill blood. They have no place in a refined court.’
The Emperor chuckled, clearly entertained by the generals’ blunt honesty. But then, his gaze shifted slightly, locking onto the blazing champagne-colored robes sitting in the front row.
"And what of you, Lady Heena?" the Emperor asked, his voice echoing perfectly through the suddenly quiet hall. "It has been a long time since I have seen a Vanguard general perform. As the newly appointed commander of the southern forces, how about you show us some of your hidden talents?"
The hall fell dead silent. Every single eye snapped toward Heena.
Samuel stopped peeling his lychee. His dark eyes slid sideways, watching his wife with intense calculation.
Heena stood up slowly, her movements fluid and completely unbothered. She stepped out from behind her table, placing one hand over her heart and resting the other on her knee in a crisp, martial bow.
"I thank Your Majesty for the honor," Heena said, her voice smooth and deeply humble. "But this subject of yours truly does not know much about these refined arts. After all, the esteemed scholars and noble ladies have already performed the most breathtaking displays of culture. I would only embarrass myself."
The civil officials exchanged triumphant, mocking smiles.
’We knew it,’ the noble ladies whispered excitedly to each other, fanning themselves rapidly. ’She is just a brute wrapped in nice silk. She can’t do anything but fight.’
But just as the court was preparing to smugly move on, Heena paused.
She slowly raised her head, looking right past the gloating scholars, and locked eyes directly with the Emperor. The humble, submissive aura vanished in an instant, replaced by the sharp, terrifying confidence of a true Vanguard commander.
"However," Heena continued, her voice slicing through the whispers like a freshly sharpened blade. "If Your Majesty truly wishes to be entertained... I can perform a dance. One that has not been seen in this court for years. In fact, I can guarantee that no one in this hall has ever witnessed it."
The Emperor’s eyebrows rose in genuine surprise. His dark, calculating eyes sparked with sudden, intense intrigue.
"Oh, really?" the Emperor smiled, intrigued by her absolute confidence. "Now you have thoroughly caught my attention. I want to see this."
Heena bowed her head gracefully. "It is a rough, untamed performance. It might not be as delicate as the ladies before me. I only hope Your Majesty will not find it too unpleasing to the eye."
Before the Emperor could reply, a smooth, melodious voice cut in from the throne beside him.
The Empress, draped in her heavy phoenix crown, smiled down at Heena. Her expression was perfectly gracious, but it carried an undeniable, suffocating weight of imperial pressure.
"Why does our Lady Heena think so poorly of herself?" the Empress asked, her tone dripping with honeyed expectation. "As a woman of such high standing, I am certain that whatever you choose to perform will be absolutely exceptional. Am I right, ladies?"
The noblewomen, completely cornered by the Empress’s endorsement, quickly plastered on fake smiles and nodded eagerly.
"Of course, Your Majesty!"
"We simply cannot wait!"
"We never get to see Lady Heena perform; it is a true blessing!"
Heena stood in the center of the Great Hall, surrounded by the venomous, smiling faces of a court secretly hoping to watch her humiliate herself. She slowly untied the heavy, fur-lined black cloak from her shoulders, handing it to a nearby servant, entirely ready to show the civil court exactly why the Vanguard ruled the South.
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