Chapter Twenty-Five: I Wish You a Happy Birthday! (Second Update)
The surroundings were utterly silent; Feng Xiaoli heard nothing but her own name echoing in her ears. Her first reaction was simply, "What?" She looked around in bewilderment, drawing derisive laughter from others. Yue Wanqing stopped and tilted her head to study Feng Xiaoli, wearing an expression that clearly said, "I'm watching you, don't look elsewhere," with an aloof indifference that left Feng Xiaoli gnashing her teeth. Shen Yuchen also chuckled quietly, seated with his back to the crowd. The dim lighting obscured his features.
Feng Xiaoli glanced left, then right, clueless as to what had happened. Jin Ning, who had just grasped the situation, leaned in to whisper in her ear, "Miss, I heard you are to present a gift!"
"Damn it, what am I supposed to give? No one told me I needed a gift, and I have nothing at all. What do you expect me to offer?" Feng Xiaoli was furious; how could the old man neglect to mention something so important?
Jin Ning wiped the cold sweat from her brow. "Miss, what should we do?"
Feng Xiaoli abandoned her earlier indignation, her face now brimming with confidence, her eyes sharp and radiant. In that instant, those who had been mocking her found themselves captivated. She advanced with poise and dignity, her scarlet robes billowing elegantly in the breeze. Calmly, she declared, "When soldiers come, we meet them head-on; when water floods, we block it with earth. We may lose in possessions, but not in spirit. Jin Ning, let's proceed—don't let them see our uncertainty. Though we've prepared nothing, we can still step forth and wish the Emperor of Qianqing a happy birthday!"
She moved among the envoys from various nations, bowing to the Emperor of Qianqing, Empress Yuanmin, Yuwen Hao, Yuwen Che, and the foreign diplomats, offering greetings and a salute to the emperor's longevity, her smile gracious.
Empress Yuanmin spoke, "Ali, just now, Lady Xinmi from the Marquis Liao’s household presented a cross-stitch of Magnificent Rivers and Mountains, the artistry so exquisite that both His Majesty and I were entranced. The emperor immediately ordered it framed and hung in the imperial study. Similarly, Lady Xinqi from the Marquis Liao’s gifted an ink painting of bamboo, accompanied by a seven-character regulated verse, both remarkable. From the Left Prime Minister’s residence, Wanqing offered a golden glass lamp, said to be blessed by the great Daoist at the Thousand Buddha Temple in Huai Jing—Wanqing truly put her heart into it. Wen Yanqing of the Wen family presented a spirited nightingale, trained to sing ‘Peace to His Majesty.’ Chu Yuemei from the Chu family submitted her handwritten copy of the Diamond Sutra. Princess Xianglian performed a zither piece for the emperor. Each lady has shown sincere thoughtfulness." The empress gazed at Feng Xiaoli. "Ali, it is your turn. What novel gift will you present?"
Feng Xiaoli nodded to Empress Yuanmin, then glanced sideways at Prince Chun, whose anxious face betrayed his ignorance. She arched her brow; evidently, even the old man was in the dark. She frowned slightly—could this be the legendary ordeal?
To be able to drift off in front of the Emperor of Qianqing and Empress Yuanmin—Feng Xiaoli was truly unique. Only when the empress gently called her name did she snap back to attention.
“Well then!” Feng Xiaoli coughed lightly. “Gifts are meant to bring joy. His Majesty, as the sovereign, ordinary presents surely do not suit your eyes, am I right?”
The Emperor of Qianqing narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing her. Her words piqued his interest, and his eyes brightened. “How do you mean?”
Feng Xiaoli coughed again. “Common gifts fail to impress Your Majesty. Yet, I cannot offer anything precious. I am not like Lady Xinmi, skilled in needlework; nor like Lady Xinqi, whose calligraphy and painting are renowned; nor like Wanqing, who sincerely sought blessings at the temple; nor like Wen Yanqing, who can train a nightingale; nor like Chu Yuemei, who presents handwritten scriptures.”
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“So, Ali, you mean you prepared nothing for His Majesty?” Empress Yuanmin teased, though her tone was icy enough for everyone to feel the temperature drop.
“Not so, not so!” Feng Xiaoli smiled faintly. “I merely said that ordinary gifts would not catch His Majesty’s eye, and precious gifts are out of my reach. I was only comparing with what the other ladies have given.”
She gracefully parried the question; indeed, she had never said otherwise.
“Empress Yuanmin, do not worry. Ali will certainly present a gift to His Majesty!”
“I admit, I am quite eager to see this gift,” the Emperor of Qianqing said, glancing at the empress, who shared his anticipation.
“But!” Feng Xiaoli shifted her tone, “I fear His Majesty may blame me, saying that as the daughter of Prince Chun, I could not produce a proper gift. So, I am afraid of reproach—perhaps His Majesty will spare me from presenting anything?”
The Emperor of Qianqing was momentarily taken aback. He had not expected her to say such a thing; she had seemed so poised moments before, and now she wished to abstain?
He waved his hand. “Why would I laugh at someone sincerely wishing to give me a gift?”
“But!” Feng Xiaoli persisted, “Even if you don’t laugh, others surely will.”
“Who dares!” His gaze swept the crowd like a blade, leaving them chilled. “Ali, rest assured—no one will dare laugh at you.”
With this assurance, Feng Xiaoli’s smile blossomed. “In that case, I shall sing a song for His Majesty, wishing you joy on your birthday, wishing you joy on your birthday, wishing you joy on your birthday, wishing you joy on your birthday! Your Majesty, this is Ali’s birthday song for you. Is it not a melody worthy only of heaven itself?”
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“Pfft!”
Tea sprayed everywhere as several people sputtered in surprise. No one had expected Feng Xiaoli’s gift to be a song—her bold serenade stunned the room. Ignoring the emperor’s earlier warning, everyone burst into laughter, some so exaggerated their tears flowed, others clutching their stomachs in hysterics. Even the Emperor of Qianqing and Empress Yuanmin could not help but laugh at the spectacle.
The most outrageous laughter came from Yue Wanqing and Mu Xinqi—Feng Xiaoli paid Wanqing no mind, but Mu Xinqi nearly collapsed onto Mu Xinmi, utterly abandoning the decorum of a noble lady, laughing until she was breathless.
After her laughter subsided, Princess Xianglian sprang up and applauded enthusiastically. “Feng Xiaoli, well done!”
Jun Mochen, feeling he had found a kindred spirit, cried, “A soulmate!”
Feng Xiaoli looked helplessly at the Emperor of Qianqing, protesting, “Your Majesty, you said you would not laugh!”
The emperor, hearing her complaint, quickly sobered and stifled his own laughter, coughing awkwardly and admonishing the crowd not to laugh. Yet, how could they truly refrain? In their eyes, Feng Xiaoli’s song was unfit for refined company, the sort of thing sung by street ruffians—and now, delivered before the most exalted person in Huai Jing. Not to laugh was impossible. Their laughter was at her, but also at Prince Chun for failing to raise a proper daughter, who dared play such tricks before the emperor.
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