A Foodie Transmigrated into the Palace

As the New Year drew near, the palace had entered its liveliest time again.

On New Year’s Eve, after snowing for several days in a row, the sky finally cleared.

The palace was blanketed in pure white snow, wrapped in silver, the trees heavy with ice like silver blossoms—too beautiful to take in all at once. It was just like that line: ”As though overnight a spring wind had come, a thousand trees burst into pear blossom.”

To highlight the festive mood, the Palace Attendants

hung strings of exquisitely made red lanterns on the branches piled high with snow, and wound ring after ring of red silk ribbons around the red plum trees that were about to bloom.

On the railings of places like the Octagonal Pavilion, Taiye Pool, and the Flowing Water Bridge, they had also hung layers of bright red drapes.

These scattered touches of festive red were like plum blossoms suddenly blooming amid the pristine snow of the palace, adding a hint of delicate charm to the pure, quiet scene so that one could hardly look away.

The Consorts, who had spent an entire winter anxious over the tense situation at the front lines, could finally relax and come out to stroll around the Imperial Garden.

After all, they’d been cooped up for a whole winter, and with the Emperor’s face dark as thunder, they hadn’t really dared to go out.

The snow view was at its loveliest; groups of beauties in palace dress, each wrapped in snow‑white fox fur, wandered the Imperial Garden in twos and threes, followed by long trails of Palace Attendants behind them.

From time to time, bursts of lively chatter and laughter floated out from the Imperial Garden, which paired perfectly with the snowy scene.

Duanning Palace.

As the Empress, Xia Ruqing had no such leisure.

She was busy bustling around with Consort Cheng and the others, preparing the New Year’s Eve banquet that night, the ancestral rites tomorrow, the palace feast tomorrow, and so on.

Even with the four consorts helping her, she herself was still run off her feet.

Not until after midday, when everything had finally been arranged, did she at last have a moment free.

As she ate her delayed lunch, Xia Ruqing casually asked a question.

”Where’s Yue Er?”

Zi Yue and Zi Su exchanged looks, both looking like they had something to say but didn’t dare to.

Xia Ruqing scolded them helplessly, half joking, half annoyed.

”Did she sneak out again? You two are spoiling her far too much!”

Zi Su hurried to soothe her.

”Empress, you know the Princess’s temper... if something doesn’t go her way she just...”

Zi Yue quickly nodded.

”My Lady, we really have done our best!”

Xia Ruqing fell silent.

After finishing lunch, she didn’t even bother with her noon rest.

Taking advantage of the time before the New Year’s Eve banquet, she hurriedly led a large group of attendants out to search for her daughter.

On the way, Xia Ruqing was full of mixed feelings.

’Yue Er is getting more and more spoiled by the day!’

’That girl has the most tricks up her sleeve. She often has the Wetnurse Sisters spinning in circles—honestly... such a headache!’

’And the Emperor spoils her so terribly on top of it all, always saying... as a legitimate‑born Princess of the Imperial Family, she should have the bearing of the Imperial Family!’

’That bastard Zhao Junyao not only won’t discipline her, he even helps his daughter make trouble—he’s simply...’

Xia Ruqing rubbed her temples; the more she thought about it, the more her head hurt.

In the blink of an eye, she arrived at the Eastern Palace.

When the Palace Attendants saw her coming, their expressions all turned cautious, and they bowed respectfully.

Xia Ruqing didn’t have time to wave for them to rise; she hurried straight into the main hall.

Why come to the Eastern Palace to look for her daughter?

That went back to when Chenchen returned in triumph with the army.

That day, when Chenchen came back from outside the palace.

Xia Ruqing had taken Henger and Yeye and Yue Er with her to the palace gate to welcome him.

Standing atop the gate tower of the Imperial Palace,

they saw from afar that Chenchen was riding a pitch‑black warhorse, clad in a finely crafted set of Beast-faced Cloud-patterned Silver Scale Armor, Purple Gold Serpentine-patterned Long Boots on his feet, a Copper-handled Long Whip in one hand and dark brown reins in the other.

His face was cold and stern; sword‑brows, starry eyes, he sat tall in the saddle, and with a smooth, handsome motion he snapped his whip and shouted in a deep, powerful voice, ”Hyah!!”