FYM - 155

Five days later, it was New Year’s Eve. Due to the two consecutive victories since Guangyou and the first New Year after the southern relocation, the palace held a grand banquet to celebrate renewal and continuity.

Civil and military officials, along with their families, were invited to the palace. As they took their seats, they marveled at the year’s political changes: the Jinling Song family, once proud due to the Empress Dowager’s regency, had declined. After Chancellor Song Dan’s death, the family’s influence waned, and paying a hefty fine of 68,000 strings of cash had left them severely weakened. Their position in court was now awkward, and their relationship with the Empress Dowager was delicate. The Fang family, too, had changed; though still powerful, they no longer commanded the same respect. The Marquis’ authority was intimidating, and even his patriotism couldn’t prevent criticism. Perhaps there would be no more figures like the late Duke, loyal to the royal family. The Fangs were no longer the obedient servants they once were.

In contrast, the Luoyang faction, previously at odds with the Empress Dowager, now enjoyed peace. They benefited from the new policies, watching the Jiangnan gentry struggle, content and satisfied.

Within the palace, everyone wore many faces, emotions varied and inscrutable. When Song Shuyan and the young emperor arrived and took their seats, her heart was calm—neither sorrow nor joy.

“New beginnings bring renewal, everlasting stability, and boundless prosperity.”

Officials bowed and cheered with auspicious words. The young emperor was delighted, especially excited about the upcoming northern campaign. He repeated “everlasting stability” twice, drinking three large cups of wine despite protests, already flushed before the banquet was halfway through.

Naturally, officials came forward to offer toasts.

In previous years, the Song family always came first. This year, Song Dan was gone, and Song Bo remained aloof, never looking at his niece on the throne. Midway through the banquet, he claimed illness and left early, creating an awkward scene. The Fang family also kept their distance from the Empress Dowager. Though Fang Xianting sat near Song Shuyan, he deliberately bypassed her during toasts, drinking only with the young emperor. Officials watched, noting they couldn’t even exchange secret glances as they did last year.

Only a few young officials genuinely congratulated her on the New Year.

Xu Zongyao had always been wary of the Empress Dowager, skeptical of women in power and fearing she might hinder state affairs for her maternal relatives. But after the new policies, his doubts vanished—she was a true ruler, resolute beneath a gentle exterior, unafraid to do what was necessary. She wasn’t a mere puppet.

He sincerely bowed to her, and she calmly accepted his toast with tea instead of wine, saying, “Last year was difficult, and your efforts were commendable. It should be I who toasts you.”

Commendable?

He had merely traveled and debated, but she faced severing ties with her family, nearly isolated in court. Compared to her, his efforts seemed insignificant.

“Your Majesty flatters me…”

He was at a loss for words, his eloquence gone. Yet she seemed to understand, mature beyond her years, giving him a faint, genuine smile.

“We both just need to do our duties, stay guilt-free, and not dwell on the past,” she was both his sovereign and friend. “…That’s enough.”

Such simple words strangely moved people amidst the transition of old and new. Perhaps then he truly understood the clarity of her heart. Her regency wasn’t driven by ambition or necessity but by principles she steadfastly upheld, earning respect from all who witnessed it.

“Yes.”

He respectfully bowed, finally becoming her devoted subject.

“…I am instructed.”

The most notable guest at the banquet was Xie Ci, the rarely seen commander of two border regions.

The Youzhou Xie clan was prestigious, and Xie Ci himself a legendary general. After Taqing, the northwest collapsed; without his defense against barbarians in Fanyang, Dongdu might have fallen before Fang Xianting returned. Without the Yingchuan Fang’s fame overshadowing him, the Youzhou Xie’s influence would have risen further.

This year, he again repelled the Turks. Despite Fang and Jiang Chao’s assistance, his achievements were significant. Officials didn’t expect him to attend the New Year celebration in Jinling, given the微妙 relations between the court and regional commanders post-southern affairs. Yet, he came, bowing to the Empress Dowager and young emperor, presenting gifts from Jiangbei, and spending the evening conversing with Fang Xianting, distant from others. Officials soon discerned his purpose: the Marquis, preparing for the northern campaign, worried about the northern commanders’ compliance. Xie Ci, the strongest regional commander, attending the celebration signified loyalty to the court and deterred other northern commanders. Having received favors from the Marquis this year, Xie Ci couldn’t refuse, strengthening the Fangs’ position.

As the night wore on, after several rounds of drinks and dances, officials followed the Empress Dowager and young emperor outside to view fireworks prepared by the Ministry of Rites, concluding the banquet. Song Shuyan, slightly drunk, glanced back at Fang Xianting as she left with the young emperor. He seemed to sense her gaze, looking up to meet her eyes.

She suddenly wished he could hold her, even though they had parted many times, knowing he likely couldn’t stay tonight. At least on New Year’s Eve, she hoped for companionship, unable to ignore her uncle’s earlier cold, hateful glare. Turning back, she quietly told Chaohua, “Tell the Captain of the Imperial Guards that I haven’t seen my sister-in-law and Han’er in a while. Tonight, I’ll leave the palace late and briefly meet them at the plum pavilion.”

...She still needed family.

The plum blossoms were in full bloom, vibrant colors stretching endlessly, fluttering like rare Jiangnan snow when the wind blew, stunningly beautiful. She waited in the pavilion. Soon, her second brother, sister-in-law, and child arrived. Though late, Han’er, having seen the fireworks, was still excited.

“Auntie—Auntie—”

Song Han, now five, ran to her, fearlessly jumping into her arms despite few meetings.

Song Shuyan laughed, embracing him, as her sister-in-law Lou Tong scolded, “How many times have I told you? Greet your aunt properly and say ‘Long Live the Empress!’ Don’t be so rude!”

Lou Tong walked slower, accompanied by Song Mingzhen, appearing as an ideal couple.

Song Shuyan felt a twinge of envy, reminded of her lost child. Many things remain unclear; perhaps some relationships are simply fated differently.

“It’s fine. It’s New Year’s Eve. Tonight, I’m just Auntie, not the Empress.”

She smiled, still holding Han’er.

“Sister-in-law, please sit. No need for formalities.”

Hearing this, Han’er stuck his tongue out at his mother. Lou Tong shook her head, thanked Song Shuyan, and sat. Song Mingzhen carefully attended, surprising Song Shuyan with his attentiveness.

“Sister-in-law is…”

Lou Tong, straightforward in her maiden days, blushed slightly, answering, “Just another pregnancy… Zi Qiu is always making a fuss.”

Despite her rebuke, her husband’s smile deepened, tenderly caring for her, clearly showing his affection.

Watching them, Song Shuyan felt her past fantasies of familial bliss realized, though not for herself, it was still heartening.

“Such good news?”

She smiled, looking at her sister-in-law’s still-flat belly with subtle longing and melancholy.

“I should give a gift. Tonight, Sister-in-law shouldn’t be tired.”

Her brother, usually close but often oblivious, didn’t notice her subtle loss, laughing, “She’s been cooped up at home, needing fresh air. A walk does her good, saves her from pestering me…”

Lou Tong glared, unhappy about his remarks. Their intimacy was impenetrable, even to a younger sister. Song Shuyan watched silently until Lou Tong noticed her detachment, discreetly nudging her husband and engaging her, “The palace scenery is unique. It’s a blessing for the child to see it. How could it be tiring?”

Song Mingzhen realized his oversight, feeling guilty, and quickly added, “Exactly—let’s stay up together, like when we were children…”

Childhood?

This brought unwanted memories for Song Shuyan. Every New Year marked leaving her grandmother, finding no peaceful corner in the vast Song residence. She never liked it.