A rare set of threads is sent by the Emperor as a gift, bringing new hope but also adding pressure to Consort Shu's challenging task. Meanwhile, Yue tastes a foreign dish that somehow seems familiar to her. Could there be more to what she has forgotten?
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Sunlight streamed into Consort Shu's room through the bamboo blinds, creating bright golden lines on the polished floor.
Waking gently under her silk blanket, Shu listened to the sounds of morning birds.
Her hand instinctively moved to her stomach, a familiar gesture from her pregnancy with Li Sheng, before she recalled that her son was peacefully asleep in his crib nearby.
"Good morning, my lady," Hong said softly, easing open the door.
"Did you sleep well?"
Shu nodded, though the tired circles under her eyes told a different story. The embroidery project assigned by the Empress weighed on her mind.
Hong approached with a small tray bearing a steaming cup of chrysanthemum tea.
"Something arrived for you this morning."
"Oh?" Shu took the tea, the warmth of the cup comforting in her hands.
"A package was delivered before dawn.", Hong said, pointing to a wooden box on the table by the window.
"The messenger said it was from His Majesty."
Shu's eyes widened with surprise. She set aside her tea and moved toward the table.
The box was a work of art itself—crafted from polished rosewood with mother-of-pearl designs of plum blossoms along the edges.
A scroll tied with red silk was on top. Shu carefully untied the cord and unrolled it, recognizing the Emperor's bold handwriting:
For your tapestry. May these threads weave strength into your fingers.
Inside, nestled in silk, was a breathtaking array of embroidery threads. The vibrant colors seemed nearly alive—imperial purples, sunset oranges, deep blues, and forest greens—each wound on delicate jade spools.
"These are from the Imperial Workshop," Shu whispered, running her fingers over them.
"Some of these dyes come from distant Western Regions."
She picked up a golden thread spool that gleamed like actual metal.
"This alone would cost a high official's salary for a month."
Hong leaned closer, eyes wide with wonder. "His Majesty must truly wish for your success."
A soft knock interrupted Shu's thoughts. The door slid open, and Yue appeared, her simple, neat robes contrasting with the early hour.
"Sorry to disturb you, my lady," Yue said, bowing deeply.
"I thought you might need help with your tapestry."
Shu's face lit up. "Yue, your timing couldn't be better. Look at what the Emperor sent."
Yue approached, her eyes widening at the sight of the rare threads. She reached out tentatively and hesitated.
"Go ahead, you can touch them," Shu chuckled.
"I need your help to use them properly."
As Yue examined the threads, Shu spread the half-finished tapestry across the table. The design showed a grand phoenix in flight surrounded by lucky clouds and blooming peonies—symbols of prosperity and imperial favor.
Despite its beauty, some stitches were uneven, and the tension was inconsistent.
"I worked through the night," Shu admitted, stretching her fingers.
"But my hands..." She held them out, and Yue noticed the slight tremor.
"They haven't been steady since Sheng was born."
Yue gently massaged Shu's wrists.
"The physician warned this might happen. You lost a lot of blood." Shu nodded, trying to hold back tears.
"I can help," Yue said, picking up a needle.
Shu whispered, "I overheard something yesterday. The Empress was talking to the court seamstress in the East Garden."
She looked at Yue with hurt in her eyes. "She's already ordered another gift in case I fail."
Yue paused her work on the threads. "She expects you to fail."
"She's ensuring it," Shu whispered.
"If I can't finish this tapestry, I'll be embarrassed in front of the court.
"Even if the Emperor favors me, it won't matter if they see me as incapable."
"Then we won't let that happen," Yue said firmly.
They worked through the morning, their fingers sore from bending over the intricate tapestry.
Yue's stitches were not as neat as Shu's, but her determination made up for her lack of skill.
"Pull the thread gently," Shu said, watching Yue struggle with a knot.
"Like this." She showed her, though her hands still trembled a bit.
Yue copied the motion, concentrating hard. The phoenix's tail appeared slowly, not as refined as Shu's, but acceptable from a distance.
"You've improved since I first taught you," Shu smiled.
"It's still not enough," Yue sighed, spotting a crooked stitch.
"I'm better with kitchen knives than embroidery needles."
"Remember when you first taught me?" Yue laughed softly.
"I pricked my fingers so much, the silk got stained with blood."
"And you kept going even when I asked you to stop," Shu recalled, her eyes warm with memories.
Their quiet companionship was interrupted by a sharp knock. A palace eunuch entered, bowing low.
"Lady Yue," he announced formally, "The Emperor requests your immediate presence."
"He wishes to discuss preparations for the Qarakhai feast, Noble Lady."
"Go ahead," Shu whispered gently, taking the needle from Yue's hand. "Don't keep His Majesty waiting."
When Yue entered the Emperor's study, Li Zhao stood by the window and focused on a scroll with unusual symbols. Yue realized it was written in the Qarakhai language.
"You called for me, Your Majesty?" Yue asked, bowing deeply in respect.
Li Zhao turned to face her, his expression softening for a moment.
"Noble Lady Yue, I hope my summons didn't interrupt anything important?"
"I was assisting Consort Shu with her embroidery work, Your Majesty."
"Ah, the tapestry project." He placed the scroll down carefully.
"How is it progressing?"
"It's going well, Your Majesty. The threads you've sent are very generous and helpful."
Li Zhao nodded slightly and stepped closer to her.
"I thought they might help. The Empress's challenge was indeed quite demanding."
Yue kept her eyes respectfully on the floor, though she could feel his eyes on her.
Li Zhao returned to the desk and selected an imperial red seal scroll.
"The Qarakhai delegation is arriving soon," he began, unfurling the scroll.
"Their customs, particularly concerning food, are particular. A single mistake could be seen as a serious insult."
"You organized the Dowager's birthday feast excellently. I trust you'll handle this task with the same skill level."
"It's an honor, Your Majesty," Yue replied. Li Zhao gestured toward a low table with several covered dishes.
"The kitchen has prepared some Qarakhai dishes based on descriptions provided by their envoys. I'd appreciate your opinion on them."
Yue walked over to the table and carefully lifted the covers, revealing a variety of unfamiliar dishes.
The aromas were intriguing—strong, earthy, and infused with spices she was not accustomed to.
One dish featured thin slices of meat soaked in a dark sauce, while another contained small dumplings, different from those she had seen in the palace kitchens.
"These are..." she started, taking in the presentation.
"Qarakhai specialties," Li Zhao explained, moving beside her.
"Our chefs tried to replicate them, but I am uncertain if the dishes capture the true flavor."
Yue picked up a pair of silver chopsticks and sampled a dumpling. The taste was unexpected—rich with lamb and onions, accented by cumin and other spices she didn't know.
She took her time chewing and analyzing the flavors.
"The filling is authentic, but the dumpling wrapping is too thin. Qarakhai dumplings typically have thicker skins to endure cooking over open flames," she observed.
"And this sauce lacks something... maybe fermented mare's milk?"
Li Zhao raised an eyebrow slightly. "You have knowledge of Qarakhai cuisine?"
Yue paused, unsure how she knew the flavors so well.
"I may have picked it up from traders in the marketplace during my younger years."
The Emperor studied her with a thoughtful gaze.
"Interesting. Many here find their food unappealing."
"Different, not unappealing," Yue corrected herself quickly.
"I apologize, Your Majesty."
"No need to apologize," Li Zhao replied with a slight smile.
"You're right; we often dismiss what we don't know." He gestured to the scrolls.
"The Qarakhai are a proud people with traditions as ancient as ours. Their King and his delegation must be honored properly with this feast."
Yue agreed, still puzzled about her strange knowledge of foreign food.
"I'll speak with the kitchen staff to make the necessary changes."
"Great," Li Zhao rolled up the scroll he'd been examining.
"Tell me, Yue, did you spend your entire childhood in General Wan's household?"
Yue paused; her chopsticks halted as her mind went blank. The Emperor's tone seemed casual, but she knew it meant something more.
"Not entirely, Your Majesty," she answered carefully. "There were... gaps in my early childhood that remain unclear to me."
Li Zhao circled the table, his movements measured and deliberate. "Gaps?"
"I have memories only from about age thirteen when I came into General Wan's household."
Yue set the chopsticks down precisely, aligning them with the edge of the plate.
"Before that, there's little I recall with certainty."
The Emperor's eyes narrowed slightly. "An illness, perhaps? Childhood fevers can sometimes steal memories."
"Possibly," Yue said, glancing down at her hands. "General Wan's mother once told me I was very sick when I arrived, and she cared for me until I recovered."
Li Zhao nodded, seeming to accept this, but his expression hinted at other thoughts.
"I want to give you something," he said softly. "It's a token of appreciation for your loyal service."