Night descended softly over the imperial palace, wrapping every corridor in a veil of quiet gold. Lanterns glowed faintly along the walkways, their light trembling across the marble floors like ripples of warm water. The air was thick with the aroma of food drifting from the imperial kitchens — roasted duck, lotus soup, and steamed rice fragrant with ginger and wine.
Inside the Empress's courtyard, however, the atmosphere was calmer, almost homely.
Lian An had finished cooking herself. Her sleeves were rolled to the elbow, and the faint sheen of heat glowed along her temples. The kitchen maids had begged to help her, but she had waved them away gently — this meal was hers alone to make.
On the wooden table before her rested a neatly arranged tray: small bowls of golden fish soup, delicate lotus buns, spiced vegetables, and a plate of jasmine rice with thin-sliced beef glazed in honey and pepper. A final dish — a sweet almond pudding — gleamed like moonlight in a porcelain bowl.
