Volume One: The Youngest Among Three Hundred Chapter Forty-Eight: All Directions Pay Homage

Every inch of Chen Chang'an's skin twitched violently. He was a man of principle—how could he possibly wear women's clothing? Impossible. Not in this lifetime.

He cautiously ventured, “Your Highness, perhaps… I should not go?”

Changning, hands on her hips, snorted, “No way. Sending the bamboo tubes was said to be the Empress Mother's favorite birthday gift, but who knows? If it backfires and angers her, what then? You must be present.”

So, it was all about avoiding mishaps; if things went awry, he could be pushed forth as the scapegoat.

Changning’s adorable ears stood upright. “If you don’t go, the Su family will be executed.”

Chen Chang'an: “….”

“All right then!”

After much hesitation, he showed the forlorn expression of a young man who’d lost his footing, bit his lip in resignation, and finally took the women’s garment from Changning’s hands with trembling fingers, heading inside to change.

“Good grief, what is this outfit? Ancient women’s clothes are really troublesome!”

“What’s this pink ribbon for?”

“Oh, it’s for tying the chest.”

“Huh… The chest is already tied, but what’s this white ribbon for?”

Chen Chang'an used to enjoy admiring women’s attire, but from now on, he utterly despised it. The wretched thing was a pain to wear; if undressing was as difficult as dressing, it would surely prevent many scoundrels from committing crimes.

After tidying up, he went to the water jar in the courtyard and caught a glimpse of himself, wishing he could die. It was unbearably ugly, and his chest was so flat it looked deliberately smoothed out. Left with no choice, he picked two sugar tangerines from the back garden to pad inside, which finally gave him a hint of feminine charm.

Arriving at the gate, the maid Xiao Mei braided his hair into a style unique to women.

Changning surveyed him from head to toe, poked the tangerines on his chest with her slender jade fingers, and remarked, “Hmm, not bad. You look more like a maid than the maids themselves. But disguising your voice won’t be easy, so just don’t speak. I’ll tell everyone you’re mute.”

With these instructions, Chen Chang'an and Xiao Mei accompanied Princess Changning as she set out. Along the way, he pulled out a cloth strip to cover his eyes, switching to standby mode to avoid any mishaps or pain within the palace.

Half an hour later, the carriage arrived at Vermilion Bird Gate, where many civil and military officials, princes, and nobles had already gathered. The largest crowd clustered around Crown Prince Zhao Yankang.

Though Bai Wan had ascended the throne as Empress, she was still bound by ritual and the fear of public scorn or a bad reputation in the annals of history, so the crown prince remained of the Zhao lineage.

Of course, she was not childless. Some years ago, she had a son with her favored consort, Zhang Youzhi, bearing the surname Bai, though the boy was still young—about five years old.

Most of the remaining officials gravitated toward Prince Jing'an, Bai Jinghu, the Empress’s elder cousin, forming a clear opposing faction within the court.

As for the other princes, their entourages were noticeably cooler.

Changning’s carriage stopped at the gate just as another of equal grandeur drew near. The wheels touched, making a creaking sound.

Changning lifted the curtain with her left hand, raised her skirt, and leapt out, ready to erupt in anger. But when she saw the insignia hanging from the other carriage’s front, she quickly restrained herself, even deliberately adopting a demure demeanor.

At that moment, a pair of snow-white embroidered shoes stepped out from the opposite carriage. A graceful figure stood before them, clad in a pomegranate-red open-fronted robe, revealing beneath a richly embroidered peony corset. Her figure was slightly plump, with gentle curves that exuded a mature charm.

Her face was perfectly balanced, with straight brows, a tall nose, and softly pressed red lips. She seemed an ethereal maiden untouched by the world’s dust—noble, dignified, dazzling. All other young women paled beside her.

This was Princess Yongle, Bai Wan and the late Emperor Zhao Chong’s eldest daughter.

Changning’s elder sister, the only person she feared.

Yongle glanced at Changning and said in a lecturing tone, “The Phoenix hairpin should be level with two-thirds of your bun. Placing it so high—what do you look like?”

Changning lowered her head and murmured, “Yes, Sister, I’ll remember. I won’t do it next time.”

Yongle said no more, balancing her hands just above her abdomen as she walked into the Vermilion Bird Gate, each step precisely measured.

Changning quietly patted her chest and exhaled in relief, “She’s gone! She’s gone! Thank goodness!”

Inside the carriage, Chen Chang'an rested his chin on his hand, mulling over Princess Yongle’s fixation on the angle of the hairpin. “Seems she’s very particular about placement—not even a slight deviation is allowed. She’s a real perfectionist.”

Changning returned, lifting the curtain, and he quickly asked, “Your Highness, are you really afraid of your sister?”

Changning chuckled, “Yes, always have been.”

“Oh, right, let’s stay in the carriage until the last moment before going in.”

The Longevity Festival was a grand event for the court, held in the palace’s highest building, the Tower of Supreme Harmony. Officials arrived early to show their enthusiasm, but the festivities would truly begin at dusk, when the sun set and lanterns were lit.

Lights glimmering together would illuminate the prosperity of the age.

Once Yongle was out of sight, Changning led Xiao Mei and Chen Chang'an into the Vermilion Bird Gate. The prepared gifts were registered at the entrance and handed to palace staff for safekeeping and presentation later.

When Changning delivered ninety-nine bamboo tubes, the staff gave her an odd look, thinking she must be a bit mad, but masked their expression with a smile out of respect for her status.

Arriving at the Tower of Supreme Harmony, Princess Changning found her seat, with Chen Chang'an and Xiao Mei flanking her. Crown Prince Zhao Yankang leaned over and whispered, “Changning, what gift did you prepare for the Empress Mother? Tell me.”

“Fire… firework!” she answered honestly, using the term Chen Chang'an had taught her.

Zhao Yankang frowned. “What is a firework?”

“I…” Changning paused, thinking for a moment before answering awkwardly, “Well… you’ll see soon enough.”

She quickly changed the subject. “Brother Prince, what did you prepare?”

“Hmph!” Zhao Yankang angrily pounded the table. “I’d asked Mao Ji to craft a peach blossom lantern, but his workshop was attacked and burnt to ashes by bandits just two nights ago. The nearly finished lantern was destroyed—so hateful.”

“So… my birthday gift is being rushed, but it should be finished before the banquet tonight.”

Chen Chang'an almost laughed out loud. If Zhao Yankang knew those bandits had appeared because of him, leading to the destruction of the lantern, he’d surely curse him.

“Envoys from foreign lands are arriving.”

A sharp voice called from outside. Soon after, teams of people in exotic attire entered in orderly fashion. At the front was a man with a rounded pointed hat, curly hair like instant noodles, a sullen face, and blue eyes—Hu Dong, the representative from the Yuezhi nation.

Behind him was Yano Jinsei, the envoy from the small island nation of Yingzhou, dressed in a black gauze robe and wooden clogs that clacked as he walked.

Next came Kuba, leader of the Mongol grasslands, wearing stitched sheepskin clothes, a rough crew cut, pronounced features, and robust limbs like an elephant, with a necklace of wolf teeth around his neck.

There were also envoys from various tribes and small nations, totaling more than fifty.

The seating was arranged by rank: first princes and princesses, then officials, and finally the foreign envoys, who themselves had hierarchies.

Once everyone was seated, the hall fell into a rare hush. All sat upright, gazing at the golden throne at the front, belonging to the Empress Bai Wan, with solemn reverence.

Chen Chang'an stood so long his legs hurt, so he sat down, only to be yanked upright by Xiao Mei. Restless and unused to the setting, he scanned the surroundings for any pretty women.

He accidentally saw a banner up ahead, reading “Thirty-Ninth Birthday, Universal Celebration.” He was startled, for he recalled a woman who ascended the throne at over fifty in his old history books; he’d thought this Empress of Great Min was also in her fifties, but she was only thirty-nine.

If she’d been reigning nine years, she took power at thirty. That was truly astounding; for most, even becoming a secondary consort at that age was a stroke of luck, yet she ruled the nation. What fortune she must possess.

“Oh, so she’s not fifty but thirty-something. Maybe it’s not too late to wish for a lifelong love!”

So thought Chen Chang'an.

His gaze shifted to the base of the tower, where Cao Wu and an unfamiliar man stood side by side, leading nearly five hundred men in black uniforms, arrayed protectively around.

Yes, part of the Black Robe Guards’ duty was to ensure the royal family’s safety. Her presence here was expected.

“Awoo…”

Chen Chang'an yawned repeatedly, anxiously awaiting dusk. He dozed off several times; last night’s encounter with the Five-Fingered Maiden had left him truly exhausted.

He didn’t know how much time had passed before the booming of drums and bells woke him. Immediately, a eunuch with a resonant voice announced, “Her Majesty the Empress arrives!”

Everyone quickly adjusted their posture, keeping two fists’ distance between chest and table, sitting upright and solemn.

Clad in a golden cloud-patterned robe, wearing the Eight Dragon Crown, Empress Bai Wan ascended the tower accompanied by a fair-faced, long-haired young man—the favored consort Zhang Youzhi—and the head eunuch Feng Yuan.

Zhang Youzhi, the Empress’s most beloved companion.

Step by step, under the gaze of a hundred pairs of eyes, she sat upon the golden throne. Instantly, an aura of boundless majesty and power surged forth, compelling awe yet forbidding direct gaze. Her bearing was noble and grave.

Feng Yuan waved a whisk and proclaimed, “Since Her Majesty ascended the throne, she has received Heaven’s mandate, won the people’s hearts, and ruled with diligence for nine years. Now the empire prospers, the people thrive, and the land is at peace. On the occasion of her thirty-ninth birthday, this banquet is held to honor her achievements.”

“Tonight, all one hundred and eight wards of Chang’an will remain open until dawn, with no curfew.”

At his words, officials, princes, princesses, and foreign envoys stepped forward and bowed deeply. “Long live the Longevity Festival! Long live Her Majesty! Ten thousand years!”

Chen Chang'an was caught off guard, still standing by the banquet table.

Feng Yuan, sharp-eyed, immediately rebuked him, “Whose maid is that, standing so improperly? Drag her out and punish her!”

Chen Chang'an: “…”