Chapter Sixty: The Birthday Banquet

The thought of leaving, restless and persistent, began to spread through Huarong’s mind. Throughout the night, she could not count the number of ways she’d considered to escape. When she finally woke the next morning, her head throbbed with heaviness, as if weighed down by a thousand pounds.

“Your Grace, you’re finally awake. Do you know how late it is?” Suxin entered, carrying a basin. After wringing a cloth, she handed it to Huarong. “Please wash your face. Today, you must dress yourself properly and look your best!”

At these words, Huarong pursed her lips, taking the cloth and carelessly wiping her face. She grumbled, “I am nothing more than a bird in a gilded cage, with no freedom at all. Even if I dress up beautifully, who would there be to admire me?”

It’s not as if she were dressing up for the birds passing by, after all.

Yet Suxin burst into laughter. “Your Grace, today is Noble Consort Wen’s birthday. His Majesty will attend, and all the consorts and concubines of the harem are required to be present. That includes you. This is your chance to have your confinement lifted!”

Everything now hinged on this one event. Suxin became animated, calling out, “Chunxia! Qiudong! Bring in what we’ve prepared!”

The two maids hurried in one after the other, each bearing a tray. Upon it was a pale pink dress, exquisitely embroidered with blooming lotuses.

The soft fabric and intricate needlework made the dress a feast for the eyes; one could only imagine how stunning it would look when worn.

Huarong stared, momentarily dazed. “What is this?” she asked, still uncertain.

“What else could it be? It’s the dress I specially prepared for you, and the one Madam had made for you before you joined the harem. Have you forgotten?”

At this reminder, Huarong recalled the matter. The night she entered the palace as a bride had coincided with the Ghost Festival, the night her fate changed forever.

Madam Hua had wanted her to wear this dress and catch the Emperor’s eye.

But Huarong had never sought to court disaster, so she’d hidden it away at the bottom of her chest. She never imagined that, when she took it out today, it would still be so breathtaking.

Gazing at the dress, Huarong fell into a brief reverie. “I see. But I think this dress is far too conspicuous. I’d rather wear something else.”

It wasn’t her own birthday, after all. Why fight for the spotlight that might cost her dearly? A fleeting thrill was not worth such risk.

With that, she sat up straight, giving no room for further argument.

“Then which dress would Your Grace like to wear?” Suxin asked, glancing at the rejected garment with a hint of gloom.

Huarong usually cared only for tending flowers, planting vegetables, and keeping fish; dressing up was the last thing on her mind. In fact, she preferred to look as plain as possible.

Now, the only presentable dress was the one Madam Hua had made for her wedding, but even that was met with disdain.

Following Huarong to the wardrobe, Suxin watched as she pulled out a light blue gown, its style obviously outdated and slightly worn—a fashion from two years past, sure to draw ridicule if worn in public.

“This is the one. I think it’s perfect—elegant, understated, and sophisticated, just like my own fine temperament!” Huarong declared, holding the dress up to herself with growing delight.

Suxin was dumbfounded. “Your Grace, you can’t be serious. This dress is two years out of fashion…”

Who would have thought she’d even kept it in her wardrobe!

“There’s nothing to be done. I only have a few dresses, and I can’t wear anything too ornate in daily life. Something simple is more agreeable. Besides, we’re just attending Noble Consort Wen’s birthday banquet, not a beauty contest. Why go out of my way to look extravagant?”

With a shrug, Huarong began dressing herself, never one for fuss or pretense. She believed in doing things herself, and rarely relied on her attendants.

“But… His Majesty will be at the banquet. Don’t you have any other thoughts? Even if you are just out of confinement, you don’t need to be so low-key…”

No matter what the others said, Huarong was perfectly satisfied with her plain appearance. A consort of the highest rank in the harem, yet she dressed herself as simply as a village girl.

At the banquet, she would likely be outshone by even the lesser concubines—a prospect that was somewhat humiliating.

However, Huarong only replied, “You don’t understand. This is what they call standing out from the crowd. Amidst all those dazzling flowers, what if His Majesty’s eye is caught by this single green leaf?”

Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she spoke, leaving the others at a loss for words.

If there are flowers, who would care for the leaves?

After she had dressed, Suxin pinned a sachet to her belt. “Your Grace, you refuse the dress, and you won’t wear jewelry, but surely you can wear this?”

“This sachet smells a bit odd,” Huarong remarked. She rarely wore such trinkets, as they interfered with her chores. Still, she was not wholly ignorant; this sachet’s scent was unique, reminiscent of gardenia but not as strong.

Suxin nodded, a sly smile on her lips. “It was delivered this morning by a eunuch—His Majesty’s special gift for you. If you refuse to wear it and the Emperor notices, wouldn’t that anger him?”

This news took Huarong by surprise. She examined the sachet, sensing something was off. “The scent is strange. No one in the palace wears such a fragrance. Where did His Majesty acquire it?”

What puzzled her most was that, up until now, Jun Yeli had never shown her any favor. Why send her a sachet today?

Her doubts lingered, but time was pressing. Suxin glanced at the sundial, growing anxious. “Your Grace, it’s time. We must leave now, or those women will seize the chance to accuse you!”

They hurried to the banquet, finding most guests already assembled—each more finely dressed than the last.

Only Huarong, in her pale blue gown, stood out as a splash of simple elegance amid a sea of vibrant color. At a glance, no one would take her for a consort of the imperial harem.