Prince Bei Jing of the Red Chamber, starting from saving Qin Keqing

Shui Rong turned and walked out, her steps as steady as stone, but her mind was in turmoil as she secretly plotted.

The audience with foreign guests was just a pretext. His Majesty's sudden summons to the palace might be an attempt to test his intentions now that he holds military power over three provinces, with the foreign guests present.

The true intentions of the envoys from Jiaozhi have yet to be ascertained, and now they've stumbled upon this gathering of multiple nations. Today, the imperial palace is likely even more perilous than the chess game at the Prince of Beijing's residence.

"Qin Zhong!" Shui Rong walked to the corridor and called out loudly, his voice clear and powerful, penetrating the smoke and fire of the courtyard.

Upon hearing this, Qin Zhong, who was directing the servants to set up the tent, immediately dropped what he was doing, ran over, and knelt down with a thud, bowing his head to receive orders.

"Yes, Your Highness! What are your orders?"

"Go quickly to the inner courtyard and fetch my royal robes. Then tell Zhao Zhong that the banquet should proceed as planned and that he need not wait for me. I will go to the palace and return later."

Shui Rong spoke with a calm tone and clear words.

"Your servant obeys!" Qin Zhong hurriedly responded, got up and ran quickly towards the inner courtyard, his figure soon disappearing at the end of the corridor.

Shui Rong stood under the eaves, watching the servants bustling about in the courtyard and the wisps of smoke rising from the chimneys. Then he looked up towards the palace—the vermilion palace walls soaring into the clouds, the glazed tiles gleaming coldly in the setting sun.

A deep glint flashed in his eyes, as if he were calculating and wary.

Before long, Shui Rong, dressed in a royal robe embroidered with a four-clawed white python, wearing a winged crown and a jade belt, entered the palace with Li Fuquan, his appearance dignified.

Upon entering the Meridian Gate, one could see many foreign figures moving about on the palace path, including Westerners with high noses, blue eyes, and wearing long, fitted robes.

There were Arabs wearing white headscarves and loose robes.

There were also Japanese people with their hair in buns and wearing narrow-sleeved kimonos. They had different skin colors and spoke different languages, but they all looked respectful and were led by eunuchs towards the Fengtian Hall.

"There are even Westerners here?" Shui Rong raised an eyebrow slightly and whispered to Li Fuquan beside him.

Li Fuquan bowed respectfully and replied, "Your Highness, there are quite a few foreign guests who have come to the capital to pay homage this time!"

"Besides envoys from the Western countries of France and England, there were also merchants from Samarkand, and Japanese envoys to Tang China."

"Even the Tatars and Oirats from the north have come—though those two don't seem to be here to pay homage."

Shui Rong nodded slowly, said no more, and strode towards Fengtian Hall.

As soon as they arrived outside the palace, they could hear the melodious sounds of stringed instruments and the cheerful laughter from inside. Then, a palace attendant announced loudly, "The Prince of Beijing has arrived—"

The noise in the hall subsided momentarily. The ministers of the six ministries, the Grand Secretary, and other senior officials turned around and bowed to Shui Rong, saying, "Greetings, Your Highness Prince Bei Jing!"

"Gentlemen, you may dispense with the formalities."

Shui Rong raised his hand in return, his gaze sweeping across the hall. He saw that the seats for foreign guests were arranged on both sides of the hall. Western envoys were talking in hushed tones, Arab merchants were bowing with their hands on their chests, and Japanese envoys were bowing and nodding, all with curious expressions.

Many foreign envoys' eyes fell on Shui Rong, their eyes filled with amazement—it was rumored that the Prince of Bei Jing of the Great Yin Dynasty was the head of the princes, a young man of great talent.

Today, I was surprised to see how handsome and upright he was. Dressed in court attire, he appeared even more dignified, completely unlike the spoiled and arrogant air of ordinary members of the imperial family.

Shui Rong's gaze swept across the throne, and seeing that his elder brother Zhu Yiheng had not yet arrived, he understood—it was probably a deliberate act to let him show up first, to demonstrate the dignity of the imperial family.

At this moment, Li Fuquan led him to the prince's seat on the side. Shui Rong sat down and raised his hand to pick up the wine cup on the table, nodding slightly to the foreign guests as a greeting.

The Western envoys quickly rose, and their accompanying interpreter relayed the message: "Greetings, Your Highness Prince Bei Jing. We are envoys from the Kingdom of Portugal, and we extend our greetings on behalf of our King."

The Arab merchant placed his hand on his chest and said in broken Chinese, "Ali, a merchant from Samarkand, greets Your Highness."

The Japanese envoy, Yamaguchi Taro, bowed and knelt, saying, "Yamaguchi Taro, the Japanese envoy, pays his respects to His Highness Prince Bei Jing. May the Great Yin Dynasty and Japan maintain a lasting diplomatic relationship."

Shui Rong nodded in response, his manners impeccable, displaying both the dignity of a prince and the grandeur of a great nation.

Just as he was chatting with Ali, a merchant from Samarkand, about trade, a hearty, loud laugh suddenly came from outside the palace gates, accompanied by a eunuch loudly announcing:

"His Majesty has arrived!"

Upon hearing this, everyone in the hall rose simultaneously, bowed in unison, and shouted in a booming voice, "Greetings, Your Majesty! Long live Your Majesty!"

His Majesty Zhu Yiheng was dressed in a bright yellow dragon robe, with a jade belt around his waist. He had a handsome face and a pleasant expression.

He strode into the hall, raised his hand and waved, his tone friendly:

"No need for formalities, please rise! Today is just a small family gathering to entertain guests from various countries. There's no need to be so formal with court etiquette. Please rise!"

After everyone thanked him and stood up, Zhu Yiheng's gaze fell directly on Shui Rong. He quickly stepped forward, grabbed Shui Rong's hand, and spoke in a tone that was both intimate and teasing:

"Brother, you've finally arrived! Haha, I remember you told me before that you had never seen a Westerner. Today, envoys from various countries have gathered here. As soon as I thought of this, I immediately asked Eunuch Li to go and fetch you."

He paused, a hint of regret on his face, and sighed softly:

"At the last banquet at the Prince's residence, I got so drunk that I missed hearing you, the Crown Prince, and the other princes compose poems. What a pity!"

After saying that, he burst into laughter, and while laughing, he gestured for Shui Rong to help him onto the throne.

Seeing the undisguised smile in his elder brother's eyes, Shui Rong knew that he was truly happy today.

Not wanting to spoil his mood, he bowed and steadily supported Zhu Yiheng's arm, leading him to sit down in front of the throne.

He then turned and stepped down, returning to his princely seat.

This scene, witnessed by envoys from various countries, invariably elicited expressions of surprise.

The Western envoy Matteo leaned close to the translator and asked in a low voice:

"This Prince of Beijing is so close to His Majesty of your country? In our country, there is never such a casual way for the monarch and a prince of the royal family to get along."

The translator smiled and replied, "Our Great Yin Dynasty's royal family is harmonious. His Majesty and Prince Bei Jing grew up together since childhood, their brotherly bond is deep and extraordinary."

The Arab merchant Ali nodded in admiration to his attendants, saying, "The emperor and his ministers of the Great Yin Dynasty are in harmony, and the imperial family is peaceful and harmonious. No wonder the country is prosperous and the people are at peace. It truly has the demeanor of a great nation."

The Japanese envoy, Yamaguchi Taro, picked up his pen and wrote on the silk, his eyes filled with apprehension—the monarch and powerful ministers and members of the imperial family were so close that the foundation of the Great Yin Dynasty was probably more solid than imagined.

Zhu Yiheng sat on his throne, raised his hand, and loudly ordered, "The banquet begins! Play music and summon the dancers!"

As soon as the words were spoken, melodious music filled the air outside the hall, and several dancers in brightly colored costumes walked lightly into the hall.

As the music played, dancers gracefully moved, their movements light and elegant. In an instant, the hall was restored to an atmosphere of peace and prosperity, with the aroma of wine, music, and laughter mingling together, creating a harmonious scene.

But this peaceful atmosphere didn't last long; a rough, shrill laugh suddenly burst in from outside the palace gates.

A few awkward and vulgar words in Mandarin instantly shattered the tranquility of the hall:

"Your Majesty! We're not late, are we? We've long heard that the ladies of the Great Yin Dynasty are beautiful, with skin as white as breasts and buttocks so pert they could reach the sky. How can our rough women from the grasslands compare?"

Upon hearing this, the music in the hall abruptly stopped, and everyone's faces instantly darkened.

Two men dressed in animal-skin robes and with curved swords at their waists strode into the hall with several attendants.

The leader was a burly man with a full beard, eyes like copper bells, and a strong, pungent smell of the grasslands. He was none other than Batu, the Tatar envoy.

Behind him was a slightly thin man with sinister eyes; he was Choros, the Oirat envoy.

The two men, wearing riding boots, stomped heavily on the polished gold bricks, completely disregarding court etiquette.

"Saibatu! (Mongolian: Hello) I, Batu, on behalf of the Great Khan of the Tatars, pay my respects to the Great Emperor!"

Batu spoke in a gruff voice, casually cupping his hands towards the throne without even performing a kneeling bow.

Esen also cupped his hands in greeting, his tone icy: "Esen, the envoy of the Oirat, greets the Great Emperor."

Just as the eunuch beside the throne was about to reprimand him, Zhu Yiheng's smile froze, and anger surged in his eyes.

But as the emperor of a great nation, and with envoys from various countries present, he suppressed his anger and said in a deep voice:

"Why aren't you on the grasslands drinking and herding with your Khan? What are you doing here in my palace? Do you intend to start a war?"