Becoming the Queen by Serving as Prime Minister | Chapter 12 | The Unveiling of the Chimes | Novela.app

Chapter 13 - The Unveiling of the Chimes Following the winding corridor, the party moved through a world of ethereal beauty. Lush blossoms draped from the eaves like floral waterfalls, and curtains of finely carved jade beads chimed softly in the breeze, casting fractured light across the path. When they finally stepped into the main hall, Shen Tingyao felt a flicker of genuine surprise. The chamber was as vast as any imperial hall, yet it lacked the expected gaudy displays of merchant wealth. Instead of gold-leafed pillars or ornate screens, the room was lined with simple, low tables of dark, unpolished wood. There were no other furnishings to speak of, lending the space an air of ancient, unadorned elegance that stood in stark contrast to the opulence of the exterior. It was a place that demanded a certain gravity, a return to the primitive roots of Great Xing’s culture. One man was already there, seated cross-legged on the floor in a posture of meditative patience. Upon seeing the group enter, he rose with a measured grace to offer his salutations. Yin Zhuli led the way, her movements fluid and confident as she began the introductions. "Master Lu," she said, gesturing toward the seated man before turning to her guests. "This is Master Shen... the second of his line. And this is Master Qu, and here we have the ninth Master Shen..." She navigated the introductions with a practiced ease, using the aliases they had agreed upon while maintaining a tone of respectful familiarity. Once the formalities were concluded, she raised her voice, her tone resonant and melodic. "As the saying goes, a chance encounter is better than a formal invitation. Since fate has brought us all together today, I ask that you set aside the rigid constraints of etiquette. Let us simply seek a moment of shared joy and perhaps a bit of drunken revelry." Despite her invitation to relax, the guests instinctively took their seats according to their true ranks and stations. Qu Tianji, the Great General, settled onto his mat and lifted his gaze, his eyes sharp and calculating. He watched his biological daughter with a silent intensity, curious to see what manner of performance or scheme she had prepared for such an illustrious—and dangerous—gathering. Servants dressed in vibrant red silk began to circulate, serving fine tea. However, the guests noted with some curiosity that no snacks or fruits accompanied the brew. In this establishment, the menu was never dictated by the guest; rather, the host prepared dishes based on the perceived status and character of the visitors. It was a practice that required the diners to wait, placing their trust entirely in the host’s discernment. After a few moments of sipping tea in silence, the Vice Minister of Rites, unable to contain his impatience, spoke up from his seat. "Head Merchant Yin, waiting in silence is a tedious affair. Do you truly intend for us to simply sit here and stare at one another? Surely this is not the hospitality for which you are known." Yin Zhuli looked up, her gaze sweeping slowly across the room. It was a peculiar look—each man felt, for a fleeting second, as if her eyes were locked onto his alone, a trick of charisma that effectively doused the rising flames of their irritation. When the room fell quiet once more, a small, knowing smile played upon her lips. Her voice, when she spoke, was low and captivating. "You are all esteemed guests, the likes of whom are rarely seen even in the highest circles," she said, her voice carrying a hint of playful reproach. "How could I, Zhuli, ever dare to neglect you?" With a sudden, sharp motion, she raised her hands and clapped twice. At the signal, several maidservants stepped forward to the head of the hall. With synchronized movements, they reached for the heavy, plain silk curtains that had been concealing the back wall. As the fabric was drawn aside, it revealed a magnificent set of ancient instruments—a grand arrangement of bronze *bianzhong* chime bells, their dark surfaces etched with swirling patterns of antiquity, gleaming under the soft light of the lanterns. The sight was breathtaking, a display of cultural heritage that transcended mere wealth. Yin Zhuli stood before the chimes, the red of her robes stark against the bronze, looking every bit the master of this grand stage.