Chapter 48: Inviting Meng Yi for a Drink

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Zhao Hong suddenly pulled a finely crafted metal lighter from his pocket and handed it to Meng Yi. “Lord Meng, a small token of my humble respect. I hope you will accept it.”

Meng Yi took the gleaming little object, flipping it over with curiosity. “What is this?”

He had caught a glimpse of something similar earlier at Zhangtai Palace but had not examined it closely.

“This is called a lighter, somewhat like a fire striker,” Zhao Hong explained with a smile. With a flick of his thumb, there was a crisp ‘click,’ and a small flame sprang to life.

Meng Yi’s pupils contracted sharply. Imitating Zhao Hong’s motion, he pressed gently. When the flame suddenly burst forth with a soft ‘puff,’ he could not help but exclaim, “Marvelous!”

From his cloth pouch, Zhang Huaiming pulled out two exquisitely packaged miniature bottles of Louis XIII. “You might like to try this.”

“What is this?” Meng Yi took the delicate bottle, turning it over in his hand, his eyes filled with wonder.

“Open it and you’ll know,” Zhang Huaiming said, twisting off the cap.

Meng Yi carefully unscrewed the gilded bottle cap. Instantly, a rich and mellow aroma of liquor wafted forth, prompting even this master strategist to take a deep breath.

“Such a strong fragrance.”

“Please, have a taste,” Zhang Huaiming smiled.

Meng Yi raised the bottle and took a small sip. The amber liquid touched his tongue, and the intense aroma exploded in his mouth—layers of oak barrel richness, the sharpness of cognac, and indescribable floral and fruity notes surged forth. It was far stronger than any wine he had tasted in the Western Regions.

The liquor slid down his throat like a burning flame, warming his entire chest.

“Such a potent drink! Exhilarating! Exhilarating!”

After swallowing, Meng Yi took another sip, savoring it slowly. The liquid danced on his tongue, revealing hints of honey, cinnamon, and even a faint cedarwood scent.

He sighed deeply. “No wonder you look down on the rice wine of great Qin.”

“Not at all, not at all,” Zhang Huaiming humbly waved his hands.

Lin Ru then pulled a finely packaged bottle of perfume from her handbag. “I have something here to trouble you, my lord, to deliver to the lady.”

Meng Yi looked at the packaging, similar to that of the Louis XIII bottle. “Is this also a drink?”

“No, no. This is called perfume, something for women to use. Of course, if you like, you may use it as well,” Lin Ru said playfully, opening the perfume cap and pressing gently. “When using, just spray it once on your clothes, and the fragrance will linger.”

She spritzed into the air, and a fresh, elegant scent drifted into everyone’s noses.

“What a unique fragrance,” Meng Yi praised, “I thank Lady Lin for this generous gift.”

“You’re too kind.”

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Twilight deepened as the splendid lanterns of Xianyang Palace were lit.

Meng Yi looked up at the darkening sky and clasped his fists. “Everyone, the banquet is about to begin. We should return to the palace.”

The group walked along the brightly lit palace path. From a distance near Qilin Hall came the sound of music. As they rounded the last palace wall, dozens of officials in splendid robes gathered in small groups, whispering among themselves.

“Have you heard? The mysterious guests the emperor summoned today,” a white-haired elder whispered.

A middle-aged official wearing a tall crown added, “It’s said they entered the palace with the Black Iron Token—surely, they are no ordinary people.”

“I heard those men are foreign magicians, wielding some secret power.”

A younger scholar worriedly muttered, “Let’s hope they aren’t like that Xu Fu fellow…”

“Shh—” someone suddenly signaled for silence.

Meng Yi led Jiang Ye and the others, strolling slowly past.

Everyone immediately fell silent but stole glances.

Though Jiang Ye and his companions were dressed in Qin dynasty garb, their manner of walking, features, and bearing were utterly unlike the rumored mysterious magicians—there was no trace of any ethereal or otherworldly air.

“They don’t seem like magicians,” the Grand Historian stroked his beard and whispered, “Rather, they resemble…”

Before he could finish, the palace bells chimed in unison.

The officials immediately straightened their attire and took their seats in order. Yet as they passed Jiang Ye and his group, they unconsciously slowed their pace, taking the opportunity to observe them more closely.

Meng Yi led the seven forward to the front of the banquet hall. Coincidentally, Zhao Gao arrived from the corridor side, accompanied by Qiao Wenbai and three others.

Upon seeing Jiang Ye’s group, Qiao Wenbai waved warmly.

“Director Jiang.”

Zhao Gao whispered, “Young master, the banquet is about to begin. Please take your seats.”

Only then did Qiao Wenbai cease standing and chatting.

Jiang Ye and the six others were led to the left chief seat, while Qiao Wenbai’s group took the right chief seat, both near the emperor.

The officials, witnessing this seating arrangement, were visibly shaken.

These were seats befitting princes—normally reserved strictly for royal family and senior ministers.

Yet now, these suspected “foreign magicians” occupied them. How could they not be astonished?

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The princes—Fu Su and others—who were about to sit, saw their rightful seats taken and were dumbfounded.

A flicker of surprise passed across Fu Su’s face but vanished quickly.

A palace attendant stepped forward, guiding Fu Su and the others to different seats.

Hu Hai frowned, but seeing Fu Su did not object, he held back and followed the attendant to other seats.

The other princes, though bewildered, did not speak.

The officials, watching this, gazed at Jiang Ye’s party with probing eyes, silently wondering who these people were and what skills they possessed to earn the emperor’s favor.

At the sound of a clear bell, the hall fell silent.

“The emperor has arrived—”

Amid sharp bowing from eunuchs, Emperor Ying Zheng, clad in a black dragon robe and wearing the twelve-ornament crown, emerged slowly from the rear hall. The jade beads on the crown shimmered warmly in the candlelight.

“We humbly welcome Your Majesty!”

All officials knelt and bowed in unison.

Jiang Ye’s group followed suit.

Ying Zheng stood before the throne, his gaze sweeping across the front seats occupied by these descendants from the future, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Rise, all of you.”

Once everyone was seated, Ying Zheng gently stroked a golden goblet on the table. “Today’s banquet is specially held to welcome and honor young friend Jiang Ye and his companions.”

The officials waited for more but the emperor abruptly stopped, making no mention of Jiang Ye’s identity, which piqued their curiosity even further.

Before the emperor could speak again, Zhao Gao clapped his hands.

A procession of palace servants entered, each carrying gilded food boxes. As they unveiled the boxes one by one, an unprecedented, rich aroma instantly filled the hall.

The once plain slices of roasted meat now glowed with an enticing golden hue, evenly coated with spices. Fat sizzled in the candlelight, releasing a wondrous fragrance mingling cumin, Sichuan pepper, and honey.

“This…” Li Si stared at the golden roasted meat before him, his Adam’s apple bobbing involuntarily.

That overpowering aroma invaded his nostrils, stirring a rumble in his stomach.