Chapter 4 — The Voice of the Heart Unmasks the Fake

7 His father breathed a sigh of relief. That breath let out deeply, like the heart that had been hanging in the air all day finally returned to its original position. The person leaned against the back of the chair, closing his eyes:

"That's good. I'm just afraid that you will also be caught up in this strange matter, being disturbed by other people's thoughts every day to the point of not being able to feel at peace."

The person opened his eyes, his eyes darkened:

“She can't hold back.”

"But we can't kill it yet."

I said:

"She was just proven to be a fake princess and demoted to the position of a maid. If she died three days later, the court and the people would think that the emperor's father was guilty and killed everyone, which would make the rumor that she was a real princess even more believable. People don't know the inside story and only think that the royal family treats human lives like trash."

His father looked at me for a long time, with a look of re-evaluation in his eyes. Then he smiled, with some joy in his smile:

"You're right. I was indeed killing myself just now, but your words woke me up. She must live, at least until this matter calms down."

“Furthermore…”

I lowered my eyes:

"Her thoughts are shallow, she can't hide what's in her heart. Keeping her under her eyelids is still safer than letting her out."

The royal father nodded:

"Then keep it. But Can Nuong, you have to be careful. Her heart is full of dirty intentions. I can hear it, you can see it, but others don't know. If she uses evil tricks to harm you, your mother and your brother, you may not be able to guard against it."

“My daughter understands.”

The royal father stood up and walked to the window. The night was as thick as ink. The bow light in the distance alternated between bright and dark, illuminating his tall, straight silhouette. The person suddenly said:

"Three days later is the Mid-Autumn Festival, the official will enter the palace. She will definitely not settle down."

“The daughter is waiting for her.”

The emperor turned his head to look at me. In those eyes there were many things: worry, trust, and the entrustment of an emperor to his daughter. He didn't say anything more, just waved his hand for me to leave. When I stepped out of the royal study, the night wind blew through my collar, so cold that it made my mind alert. I raised my head to look at the moon in the sky. The moon is almost full. Three days later is Mid-Autumn Festival. This opportunity is what Tham Thanh Dao has been waiting for. The Mid-Autumn Festival is held on the moon platform outside Thai Hoa Palace. Hundreds of lanterns hang down the hallway, illuminating the entire square like daytime. The civil and military mandarin brought his family into the palace to attend the banquet, sitting one by one according to rank. Among the silhouettes of people dressed in brocade and silk, wine cups intertwined, the sound of bamboo silk continuously echoed. I sat in the first position to the right of my father, wearing the newly sewn uniform for the eldest princess. Hoan phoenix embroidered with golden thread under brilliant candlelight. The mother sat on the left of the father, rarely showing a smile tonight, constantly putting food on my plate, as if wanting to make up for all the love I had lacked for more than ten years in just one meal.

"Please eat more, Can Nuong. This crab-filled sponge cake was specially ordered by your elder brother to use a fast horse to bring you from Jiangnan."

The queen pushed the plate of cake in front of me, the corners of her eyes curved into smile lines. The Crown Prince brother sat opposite, and when he heard that, he winked at me:

"Can Nuong doesn't know. Because of winning this number of crabs, I almost turned against Cao Yun's people."

I couldn't help but laugh. Each time they called "Can Nuong" very naturally, making a person from the modern era like me gradually get used to that name. Dai Chu's royal family is much warmer than we thought. ## 8 But that warmth didn't last long. The palace maids lined up to offer their dishes, and the sound of the flute changed to a new song. The dancer waved her water sleeve and rotated in the middle of the moon platform. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a figure wearing light-colored clothes walking around the side hallway, carrying a bottle of wine, bowing his eyebrows and walking smoothly to the table where the king's father was pouring wine. It's Tham Thanh Dao. She had changed into a neat and clean outfit, her hair was tied into a bun, with a half-open jasmine flower in her sideburns. The jasmine flower made her eyelids even more pure, her discreet elegance was extremely eye-catching. When she bent down to pour wine, her waist curved just right, revealing a nape as white as snow, which was even more dazzlingly white under the lantern light. 【It's here, it's here! Mid-Autumn Festival, the officials are all present, this is my best opportunity. Tonight I will let you ancient countrymen open your eyes to know what a blow from a time traveler at a higher level is!】 After pouring the wine, she did not immediately retreat, but held the empty wine bottle and stood in place, as if attracted by the dancers on the stage. She tilted her head slightly, revealing half of her face, just enough to make the moonlight fall on her eyelashes. Sure enough, a few young officials noticed her, their eyes stayed on her face for a beat longer. I raised my cup, took a sip, without saying a word. The fighter retreated. Next, according to custom, the mandarin began offering toasts. The Minister of Rites was the first to stand up and recite a seven-word poem, praising His Majesty's holiness to compare with the sun and the moon, and the country and mountains to live forever. After that, several civil servants stood up one after another, all with the same content. Although the words are beautiful, they become boring after hearing them too much. Tham Thanh Dao was still standing there, holding an empty wine bottle, like a white porcelain statue that had been meticulously positioned. Finally, a young editor of the Han Lam Institute stood up, choked for a long time and still couldn't think of a word. His face was red and he knelt down to apologize. His father waved his hand and said it was okay, and was about to let the next person continue, when Tham Thanh Dao suddenly spoke.

“Your Majesty.”

Her voice was clear, not high or low, just enough for more than half of the people in the party to hear:

“These past few days, the slave has been working in the palace, and suddenly he had some feelings in his heart, so he randomly put together a few verses. Tonight's banquet was so exciting, this servant dared to ask to show his ax to the craftsman once, to entertain the nobles."

The entire banquet was silent. The queen's mother frowned and was about to shout back, but her father raised his hand to stop her. The person looked at Tham Thanh Dao, his eyes calm:

“You are just a maid, do you understand poetry?”

The tone didn't sound happy or angry, it seemed like he was just asking casually.