Chapter 13

In the azure sky free of clouds, the elegant sound of a shō flute resounded gracefully.

The Spring Banquet had officially begun.

Petals of cherry blossoms swirled in the air, dancing in harmony with the melodies of court music. The gently rippling water mirror, reflecting the blue sky and the blossoms, resembled a kaleidoscope. On the raised stage, constructed over the waterways, 22 noblewomen, including the seasonal consorts, concubines, and court ladies, gathered to enjoy the elegance of spring.

At the highest tier of the stage sat the Empress, partially obscured behind curtains adorned with the imperial kirin crest.

These seasonal banquets were not only opportunities for camaraderie among the concubines but also served as secret occasions for the Emperor to evaluate potential favorites. The consorts competed to adorn themselves in their finest attire, with hairpins so ornate and heavy they seemed to tip their heads.

The Empress concluded her greeting:

“Medicine is food, and a healthy body comes from a perfect diet. I’ve heard whispers of shadows in the spring skies lately. For this Spring Banquet, we have prepared medicinal cuisine for your enjoyment. Please, indulge to your heart’s content.”

As the melodies of the erhu duet began, palace attendants in ceremonial caps carried trays of elaborate dishes to each table.

As anticipated, the Snow Plum Dance would mark the grand finale of the banquet.

Feigning the role of a palace maid to prepare for any eventuality, Fei Ling  concealed her silver hair beneath a hat. She approached the table of Lady Xue Mei and set down the tray. Xue Mei recognized her and seemed about to speak, but Fei Ling  silenced her with a firm glance.

Xue Mei, who was concealing her poisoned state, wore a crimson shawl and had adorned her hair with a single plum blossom-shaped hairpin. Considering her usual fondness for ornate decorations, this simplicity was surprising.

The tray featured five appetizers.

Carrots and radishes carved into shapes of cherry blossoms, plum blossoms, and butterflies added a festive flair that elicited cheers from the gathered noblewomen.

“It’s said that one first eats with their eyes. I had wondered if medicinal cuisine might lack charm, but… oh my, this is delightful,” said the cheerful Seasonal Consort as she picked up her chopsticks.

A delicate beauty befitting the ruler of the Spring Palace, she appeared no older than Fei Ling  yet was rumored to be the eldest among the consorts. No one knew her true age.

The first dish was lenghun:
A platter of boiled pork belly dressed with a sauce of crushed garlic and fragrant oil (suan-ni bai-rou), paired with a vinegared dish of abalone and finely chopped silver fungus (yin-er), accentuated with the fresh zest of yuzu. The refreshing aroma invigorated the appetite.

“Oh my, how delicious!”
“Is this really medicinal cuisine?”

The word “medicinal” often evoked thoughts of healthful but strongly scented and unremarkable dishes. Yet, as the noblewomen sampled the appetizers, their preconceptions gradually crumbled.

Next came two warm dishes (repan). Although categorized as appetizers (qian-cai), these were served warm, offering comfort.

“Oh, shiitake mushrooms… how rare!”

The first dish featured huagu shiitake mushrooms, braised to perfection. Like the earlier silver fungus, huagu mushrooms were rare, growing only in lush forests and regarded as a luxury. Their tender texture released bursts of umami with each bite.

The second dish was roasted duck glazed with white miso. The rich, fatty duck paired with the subtle sweetness of the miso created a refined taste.

“I can detect a hint of citrus in the duck. What is the origin of this flavor? Surely it has some medicinal benefit?”

The attendant hesitated, unsure how to respond. Fei Ling  quickly stepped forward to explain:

“The white miso glaze contains a pinch of chen-pi, a traditional medicinal ingredient made from dried tangerine peels.”

“Chen-pi? And its effects?”

“Chen-pi is a qi-regulating herb that promotes healthy digestion and circulation. It also restores the immune system weakened during winter.”

The noblewoman seemed satisfied and continued eating.

Even Lady Xue Mei, whose expression had remained tense, allowed a fleeting smile to cross her lips as she bit into the roasted duck.

(Did the dish suit Lady Xue Mei’s taste? I’m so glad.)

Fei Ling  let out a sigh of relief.

As everyone savored the five appetizers, wine was served.

“This is star anise-infused honey wine. Please enjoy its aroma first.”

In court banquets, silver cups were always used. Silver tarnishes upon contact with poison, serving as a safeguard against poisoning. However, certain poisons, like that of the mercury bee, do not affect silver. The cups remained untarnished, their luster intact.

The concubines passed their cups around, inhaling the fragrant aroma deeply.

“It smells less like honey and more like high-quality sandalwood.”

They dipped their lips into the silver cups. A sip—a drop of sweet nectar trickled down their slender throats, unaware it was a deadly poison.

Even Lady Xue Mei set down her chopsticks and tilted her cup.

Poison is bitter. Though the honey wine initially spread a pleasant sweetness across the tongue, it soon transformed into a numbing bitterness. To conceal this, the concubines were made to eat appetizers beforehand, subtly conditioning their palates.

But that wasn’t all.

The appetizers were also crafted to delay the poison’s effect and to accelerate the breakdown of the mercury bee’s venom.

As the appetizers concluded, larger and smaller dishes began arriving. The feast began with shrimp marinated in Shaoxing wine, followed by braised shark fin and fuyō crab. By focusing on seafood, the meal subtly worked to counteract the poison from water-derived mizushikimi nectar. This process didn’t just neutralize the poison—it transformed it into a medicinal substance.

Mizushikimi is a “tree toxin” but also strongly embodies “water toxin” characteristics. More specifically, it is classified as “freshwater toxin.” Just as freshwater fish perish in saltwater, “freshwater toxins” can be neutralized by “seawater remedies.”

“This is being served in such perfect order.”
“It’s almost like a Manchu-Han Imperial Feast.”

Indeed, as the concubines remarked, this feast was a revival of the legendary Manchu-Han Imperial Feast of ancient dynasties. Originally, it consisted of over 100 dishes served over three days and nights. However, with the decline of the dynasty, such extravagance faded into history. In its scaled-down form, though, it could still be enjoyed in the present day.

Even so, one concubine, gazing at her plate, softened her expression.

“How beautiful. Can this truly be food? It looks like lingering snow.”

It was the fuyō crab. This dish, made by binding shredded crab meat with egg, was a common preparation. However, using only egg whites gave it a soft, jelly-like texture and a beauty reminiscent of freshly fallen snow.

Although traditionally meant to resemble hibiscus flowers, in the current season, it evoked the image of the last snows of winter or the swirling cherry blossoms.

“The shrimp earlier was so delicious too.”
“The rich sweetness melted on my tongue… I thought my cheeks might fall off.”

Though the concubines had been tense, competing fiercely and plotting each other’s downfall to gain the Emperor’s favor, the shared meal gradually softened their moods. They began sharing their delight with one another.

Next came tempura of mountain vegetables: sprouting tara buds, butterbur shoots, bamboo shoots, and udo, all heralds of spring. These were simple, foraged greens, but coated in rice flour and fried, they stood proudly alongside the other luxurious dishes.

Plants that emerge after enduring the snows of winter are said to have the power to detoxify the kidneys of toxins accumulated over the cold months—a piece of wisdom passed down from the common folk.

(Food is not equal.)

Fei Ling  thought to herself.

(But the joy food brings is universal. Food sustains life, and so does medicine. Therefore—)

Medicine, too, should be something to delight in.