Not long after my sixth birthday passed, I welcomed my first formal entry into the palace in my life.
The reason was the Spring Banquet in the palace, which invited all officials of third rank and above along with their families. As the only young master of the Su household, I was naturally on the list.
When the news arrived, the entire Su residence was thrown into a state of high alert.
Grandmother personally took charge, directing the maids and servants to rummage through chests and cabinets. Father Liu Qingci was so nervous he barely slept for several nights, pulling me to practice court etiquette over and over again, even repeatedly correcting the angle of my smile.
"Yuzhi, the palace is not like home—every word and every action will be watched,"
Father said as he straightened the cuffs of my newly made pale moon-white brocade robe, his fingers trembling slightly.
"Especially… you are a boy, and it is your first time appearing in public. You must be extra cautious."
I nodded obediently, though inside my heart was thumping like a rabbit. What did entering the palace mean? It meant I was truly stepping into the center of power in this world, meeting the great figures who existed only in my sisters' idle talk—including those imperial princesses.
Three days before the banquet, Mother Su Yan, unusually, returned home early and summoned me to her study.
She was dressed in casual clothes, seated behind the wide rosewood desk, idly turning a green jade paperweight in her hand. The room was filled with the scent of ink and a faint air of authority.
"Yuzhi," she began, her voice steady, "on this trip to the palace, you only need to do three things."
I stood before the desk with my hands at my sides, holding my breath.
"First, keep your bearing dignified and do not disgrace the Su family."
"Second, be cautious in speech and action, and do not converse too much with others."
"Third…" She paused, her gaze settling on my face with scrutiny. "If anyone asks what you usually study, just say qin, chess, calligraphy, and painting, and self-cultivation. As for the rest… say no more."
My heart tightened slightly, but on the surface I replied obediently, "Yuzhi understands."
Mother looked at me for a long while, her expression easing somewhat. "You are a clever child. The palace is full of people and eyes, especially the imperial princesses… never mind. Just stay with your father then."
She said no more and waved for me to leave, but I heard the implication—imperial princesses were especially to be avoided.
On the day of the banquet, before dawn had even broken, I was pulled out of bed by the wet nurse.
Bathing, fumigating with incense, changing clothes. Layer after layer of specially made ceremonial garments: plain white inner robe, a pale jade-green wide-sleeved outer robe embroidered with bamboo leaves, a jade belt at the waist, and soft-soled brocade boots on my feet.
My hair was combed into delicate double buns, each adorned with a small pearl hairpin. A thin layer of powder was applied to my face, and a touch of lip rouge to my lips.
I looked at myself in the bronze mirror—a delicately carved, jade-like little nobleman, yet so unfamiliar it made my heart uneasy.
"The young master is truly handsome," the wet nurse praised.
I tugged at the corner of my mouth and forced out a shallow smile that fit the requirements of "dignified."
At a quarter past seven in the morning, the carriage departed from the Su residence. I rode in the same carriage as Father, while Mother rode on horseback ahead. Through the swaying gap in the curtain, I saw the capital's streets more clearly than ever before.
The bluestone-paved roads were wide, with shops lining both sides. Among the pedestrians, most women wore short jackets or neat dresses, walking briskly; most men wore long robes, moving at a leisurely pace, some even wearing veils or hats and being escorted by servants.
The streets were noisy, with vendors' cries, the sound of carts and horses, and human voices mingling into a lively marketplace atmosphere.
This was completely different from the world I felt inside the carefully sheltered depths of the Su residence.
I wanted to see more clearly and was just about to lift the curtain when Father gently pressed down my hand.
"Yuzhi, you must not," he said, shaking his head, his eyes pleading.
I silently withdrew my hand and sat up straight.
About half an hour later, the carriage slowed. Through the gap in the curtain, I saw vermilion high walls, golden glazed tiles, and towering palace gates. The Imperial Guard stood in bright armor holding halberds, a chilling aura pressing in.
We dismounted from the carriage and changed to sedan chairs. The curtains dropped, cutting off the outside world. I could only hear the steady footsteps of the bearers and the gentle rhythm of the chair's sway.
After a long while, the sedan chair stopped.
From outside came the sharp voice of an attendant: "Prime Minister Su, Lord Liu, Young Master Su, please—"
I took a deep breath and stepped out of the chair beside Father.
The view suddenly opened up.
The Spring Banquet was held in Liufang Garden of the Imperial Garden. It was the third month, and peach and plum blossoms were in full bloom, a riot of colors.
White jade paths wound toward an open pavilion built by the water. Inside, dozens of seats had already been set—brocade cushions and low tables, golden cups and jade chopsticks, extravagance everywhere.
Many officials and their families had already arrived. The female guests mostly gathered together exchanging pleasantries, their words hiding subtle barbs; the male guests sat in another area, all elegantly dressed, speaking softly.
My appearance drew many gazes.
"So that's Prime Minister Su's young master, isn't it?"
"What a fine appearance—only six years old and already so beautiful…"
"I heard Prime Minister Su cherishes him like a treasure and rarely lets people see him."
The whispered comments buzzed into my ears like mosquitoes. Father gently squeezed my hand, signaling me to stay calm.
We were led to seats near the front—the honored seats of the Prime Minister. Mother went to mingle with her colleagues, while Father took me to sit.
In a low voice, he pointed out important figures present: that one was the Minister of War, that one the Vice Minister of Revenue, those over there were noble ladies from a prince's household…
My gaze, however, drifted involuntarily toward the front rows of the pavilion, where several main seats were still empty.
The imperial princesses had not yet arrived.
About the time it takes to drink a cup of tea later, the high, ringing calls of the attendants sounded one after another:
"First Imperial Princess arrives—"
"Second Imperial Princess arrives—"
"Third Imperial Princess arrives—"
"Fourth Imperial Princess arrives—"
"Fifth Imperial Princess arrives—"