It was a favor she could repay.
She had no qualms taking it.
Now, with the silver notes from earlier, she had gathered ten taels.
If the Anping Hall still needed more money for medicine, she wouldn’t have to panic.
Glancing at Li Dequan, who was waiting outside the hall, Fang He quickly wiped all expressions from her face and calmly greeted his ancestors before walking over, unhurried.
Anyone in the service industry knew—no matter what emotions you had inside, even if you were sending someone to hell, you had to do it with a peaceful smile.
That was something she had always done well.
Hmm… might as well pay her respects to Liang Jiugong’s ancestors while she was at it.
***
After arriving in Southern Park , Kangxi was noticeably more relaxed compared to when he was in the Forbidden City.
Even before the formal imperial hunt, he would occasionally go out hunting with his closest ministers.
Most of the time, they managed to hunt deer, and consuming venison and fresh deer blood tended to bring out a certain fiery vigor.
As a result, his summons of consorts became more frequent than in the palace.
However, Kangxi still rarely summoned high-ranking consorts.
According to the rules of imperial bedchamber service, only the Empress was allowed to sleep in the dragon bed.
For the lower-ranked concubines, it was expected—they were used to being dismissed after a night’s service, spending the rest of the night in the side chambers.
For higher-ranked consorts, however, even if Kangxi intended to rein them in, he still left them some dignity.
If he did summon them, he usually spent the night in their palaces rather than making them leave afterward.
One had to admit, whether real or just a facade, Kangxi’s gentleness and consideration put Yongzheng and Qianlong to shame.
But lately, with the exhaustion from riding and hunting, Kangxi seemed too lazy to move around much.
Occasionally, he summoned the Noble Consorts to dine with him, but he didn’t venture deeper into their quarters.
Tonight’s chosen bedmate was Concubine Tong—the elder cousin of Wunai, the girl who had been sent back home.
At the thought of Wunai, even with the intense, primal sounds echoing through the hall—amplified, no doubt, by deer blood-fueled passion—Fang He couldn’t help the yearning that flickered in her eyes.
Two years.
She had just over two years before she could leave the palace.
Time passed quickly when things were smooth, but when obstacles arose, it felt endless.
An hour later, the storm inside had finally settled.
Hearing the distinct sound of a slap, Fang He took a deep breath, steadied herself, and carried a tray of warm tea into the hall.
Kangxi was not present.
From behind a nearby screen, however, the sound of water could be heard—he was bathing.
Meanwhile, Concubine Tong lay on a luohan couch, loosely wrapped in robes, her flushed cheeks still bearing traces of passion.
Her legs trembled slightly, clearly too weak to walk out on her own.
Fang He clicked her tongue silently and approached with light, careful steps, setting the tea down on a low table before bowing and speaking in a soft voice.
“Your Ladyship, please have some tea. Shall I summon your attendants?”
Concubine Tong had a round face and almond-shaped eyes, giving her a naturally delicate and gentle appearance.
Hearing Fang He’s words, she smiled kindly.
“Thank you for the trouble.”
Fang He smiled in return, saying nothing more as she stepped outside and called in Concubine Tong’s attendants.
Before she could leave, however, someone pressed a heavy pouch into her hand.
She weighed it in her palm—about two taels of silver.
No wonder everyone wanted to move up in the world.
One sentence earned her an entire month’s wages.
She waited outside for a while longer until Concubine Tong retired to the side chamber to rest.
Only when there were sounds from within again did she return with a tray of cold-brewed tea, carefully prepared by Bai Min.
This time, Fang He was even more cautious.
Her steps were soft yet measured, following the precise ritualistic pacing expected of a tea servant in the imperial quarters.
She walked to the side of the dragon bed, placed the tea gently on a small stool, and without lingering, she backed away with the same controlled grace.
She never waited for Kangxi to acknowledge her presence.
With precise movements, she retreated step by step, then turned calmly to leave.
Fang He didn’t believe for a second that Kangxi was unaware of the irregularity of Wei Disheng—a newly arrived young eunuch—being assigned to the Imperial Study.
But it wasn’t his concern.
For those in power, who served them was irrelevant.
There were always people scrambling for favor.
Her job was to make it his concern.
When it came to service quality, she wasn’t afraid of any native-born servant in this palace.
If she wanted to catch the attention of those in power, a single act of good service wouldn’t be enough.
She needed to gradually condition him, so that over time, he would grow accustomed to a higher standard of service.
Only when he started to compare—when he realized that anything less than her level of attentiveness was a loss to his personal comfort—would he finally take notice.
She could wait.
***
Fang He hadn’t expected that Kangxi wasn’t just highly controlling—he also had an exceptional sense of hearing.
Inside the chamber, the bedchamber maid was still behind the screen, helping Kangxi into his inner robes.
He had been reclining with his eyes half-closed, lost in thought about how to balance the Crown Prince with the court factions.
Then, suddenly, he opened his eyes.
That familiar, soothing footstep…
His lips curled into a smirk.
Hadn’t he said so?
As long as a servant had ambition, they would eventually walk into his sight—he never needed to seek them out himself.
With a casual wave, he dismissed the maid, halting her hands as she tied his sash.
With his bright yellow inner robe loosely draped over his bare torso, he walked out from behind the screen at a slow, deliberate pace.
And just as he expected, he spotted Fang He, right as she was stepping past the hall’s threshold.
What he didn’t expect—was the lowered head of hers, looking even more familiar.
Kangxi let out an involuntary chuckle.
Well, well.
Look at that.
He’d even caught a little groundhog.
An amused glint flickered in his eyes.
Just like their first encounter, he let Fang He take that final step out the door before speaking in an indifferent tone—
“Come back.”
Some matters might not be important enough for an emperor to dwell on, but when necessary, they were never forgotten.
For example, in Zhaoren Hall, he distinctly remembered—
The last time he had spoken to this little palace maid, she had been so frightened that she held her breath, face flushed red as she pretended not to be panicking.
This time, he was simply helping his little groundhog get used to his presence.
He really was a considerate master.
What Kangxi didn’t know was that Fang He had rehearsed this moment countless times in her head.
Even if she thought it would take a bit longer to happen, that didn’t mean she couldn’t adapt now.
The best way to handle shit is while it’s still fresh.
As expected, her shoulders tensed slightly, but she obediently turned around, stepping forward with her gaze still lowered.
After taking a few steps closer, she quietly crouched in a formal bow, waiting for instructions.
Rule number one of elite service:
Tools don’t talk.
Customers aren’t that interested in what you have to say.
Kangxi’s gaze lingered for a moment on that familiar-looking head before giving a simple order.
“Bring warm water instead. No tea tonight.”
Drinking deer blood and indulging in pleasures consumed a great deal of vitality.
Tea would only excite the body—it wasn’t good for maintaining one’s health.
Fang He answered softly, “Yes, Your Majesty.”
When she returned to Chong’an Hall, she noticed something unexpected—
The bedchamber maids who were supposed to be on night duty were nowhere to be seen.
Instead, Liang Jiugong was the one serving.
She was surprised, but didn’t show it.
Keeping her composure, she silently followed protocol, lifting the tray to her brow level—a precise gesture that ensured Kangxi could easily take the cup without bending down.
There are only a few key techniques to making a guest feel completely at ease.
Talk less.
If you must speak, keep your tone gentle.
Move with rhythm.
Stay within the guest’s line of sight.
Turn yourself into a kind of white noise—subtle, effortless, yet pleasant.
As expected, Kangxi was in a good mood.
He found this maid quiet, but far more comfortable to be served by than the others.
Taking the cup, his phoenix eyes half-lowered, a faint smile on his lips, he asked—
“New to the Imperial Tea Room? What’s your name?”
From the corner of her eye, Fang He saw Liang Jiugong bowing his head, trying to hide his widened eyes.
Liang Jiugong was stunned.
Why was His Majesty suddenly taking an interest in such an unremarkable palace maid?
He knew the emperor’s personality well—if something didn’t intrigue him, he wouldn’t even spare a single word.
Fang He’s reply was succinct, soft, and measured, her voice carrying neither flirtation nor timidity, landing just right in Kangxi’s ears.
“Replying to Your Majesty, this servant is Fang He. I have served in Qianqing Palace for nine years, four months, and three days.”
Kangxi chuckled.
“You remember the days so precisely. What, does serving in the imperial quarters feel like an eternity?”
Fang He twisted her fingers together, feigning nervousness, bowing her head even lower.
But her voice remained steady.
“Your Majesty, this servant would never dare think such a thing.”
She paused, then continued with perfect sincerity.
“When my aunt was still alive, she once instructed me—since I lack intelligence compared to others, I should remember only two words: unwavering loyalty. I must never stray from the right path.”
“This servant is foolish and does not know what true loyalty is. But as the saying goes—’Time reveals the heart.’
So I record each passing day, reminding myself that with every day that comes, I must be more loyal than the last. Only then can I remain at peace.”
In her past life, she had used this same line to confess her love to men countless times.
Now?
Kangxi was just another man.
Whether it was a love confession or an oath of loyalty, the approach was the same.
To stand out, she had to be irreplaceable.
She still had plenty of flattery stocked up—let’s see how Liang Jiugong could compete with that.
Liang Jiugong was utterly dumbfounded.
Good heavens.
He had never heard anyone bootlick like this before!
What did His Majesty value most?
Loyalty.
Dependability.
Good service.
And this little maid had just hit the bullseye with pinpoint accuracy.
If she wasn’t too naive to think for herself, then she had been playing dumb this whole time.
After thinking it over, Liang Jiugong still leaned toward the former—just a fool with a fool’s luck.
Kangxi, however, let out another low chuckle.
Twice now.
This little maid had made him laugh twice in such a short span of time.
It was enough to warrant one more question.
“Very well. Obedience is better than overstepping. Would you be willing to enter the hall and serve Me?”
Here it comes!
Fang He’s heart pounded violently, but she forcefully suppressed the surge of adrenaline.
Her eyes flickered briefly, her shoulders trembled slightly, and she lowered herself into a deep kowtow.
“Forgive me, Your Majesty… This lowly servant is unworthy to serve Your Majesty.”
Hmm?
Hearing the unexpected response, Kangxi’s smile faded slightly, his gaze turning sharp with curiosity as he raised an eyebrow.