Cuiwei had been holding it in for several days.
She couldn’t get along with the serious Aunt Qin and had no one else to confide in.
Fang He might be a bit foolish, but ever since Cuiwei had warned her, she had never leaked a single word about matters at the imperial court.
Although it was partly because Fang He no longer had the opportunity to serve at court, even Aunt Qin had praised her for being obedient.
At Fang He’s urging, Cuiwei first gave a warning: “You must never speak of this outside, or it’ll bring trouble.”
Seeing Fang He nod, she eagerly leaned in and pointed toward Zhaoren Hall.
“The most hardworking one is still Ru Yue. You wouldn’t believe it—she’s been to the imperial court and even took over some of our Imperial Tea Room duties.”
Fang He, fully immersed in the gossip, widened her eyes, gasped, and played along.
“Really… she took over your duties?”
Amid the rising steam, Cuiwei’s smile was particularly satisfied.
Even though she only spoke in hushed tones, her sarcasm was still evident.
“I wish she’d be more diligent! But these past few days, none of the younger ones have even had a chance to get close inside—Ru Yue took all the tasks upon herself.”
“Cen Ying and Yulian are so angry they’re stomping their feet and cursing in the Tea Room. Has Renxia said anything?”
Fang He didn’t answer.
Instead, she blinked at Cuiwei and asked in a low voice, “Why don’t you ask Bai Min?”
The two exchanged a knowing glance and grinned, unconsciously moving even closer.
Cuiwei looked mysterious.
“The day I returned to the palace, I went to pick up some new tea, and the Internal Affairs Office had me waiting forever. I only got back just before the lock-up time, and I happened to see her in the corner, secretly handing silver notes to Granny Nala from the laundry department.”
Fang He gasped in excitement.
“And then? And then?”
Cuiwei casually took a pastry and stuffed it into her mouth.
“Then, just a few days later, Aunt Qin saw Granny Nala personally delivering freshly laundered clothes to those favored palace servants. Isn’t that like seeing a ghost in broad daylight?”
Fang He clicked her tongue.
“What do you think they’re after?”
Cuiwei covered her mouth with her hand and whispered, “Ru Yue took over the Tea Room duties, and none of the other court servants spoke up. Don’t you get it?
Granny Nala and Bai Min must have pulled some strings behind the scenes—it definitely wasn’t to help Ru Yue.”
After all, there was only one fool in this palace.
“You just wait—Ru Yue is going at this with such enthusiasm, something’s bound to go wrong. It’s better for you to stay put in the Tea Room. Don’t be foolish and let yourself be used.”
Fang He nodded regretfully and thanked Cuiwei.
If she hadn’t been deliberately shunned from the inner circles, she wouldn’t have minded joining in on the gossip herself.
After all, she knew how to keep a low profile.
But having once overstepped her bounds, she dared not make another reckless move.
Trying to please, she held up a pastry to Cuiwei’s mouth.
“You’re well-informed. If you hear anything new, don’t forget to tell me! I’ll go to the Imperial Kitchen later and get you some roasted pumpkin seeds.”
Cuiwei swallowed the pastry, now full and satisfied enough to tease her.
“You really know how to offer something that isn’t yours. Even if I find out something, I won’t tell you—I’m not as foolish as you.”
Fang He chuckled and didn’t take her words to heart.
After all, gossip was only half as fun if it wasn’t shared.
If Cuiwei found out anything, she would spill the beans sooner or later.
The palace’s midday banquet was mainly held to celebrate the Grand Empress Dowager’s birthday.
Early in the morning, the Empress Dowager led the consorts and princesses to Cining Palace to pay their respects to Xiaozhuang.
Afterward, Emperor Kangxi, along with the Crown Prince and the princes, arrived to greet the two elders before escorting them back to Qianqing Palace.
By then, the square outside Qianqing Palace was already packed with people.
In the front row stood the Aisin Gioro clan members and titled ladies who had seats inside the palace.
Further back were the red-sashed clan members and officials ranked third grade and above, who were to be seated in Baohe Hall.
Finally, those who would dine in the Hall of Supreme Harmony were the other court officials and nobles who were eligible to attend court.
At the sound of the ceremonial whip cracking outside Yuehua Gate, all the clan members and officials straightened their robes and solemnly bowed in greeting, offering birthday wishes to Kangxi, the Grand Empress Dowager, and the Empress Dowager.
By tradition, the Grand Empress Dowager should have been seated inside the hall to receive their bows, but since cold weather made her knees ache, and Kangxi was unwilling to let his beloved grandmother walk unnecessarily, they established this new rule.
This arrangement happened to work in Fang He’s favor.
She huddled in the corner of the tea cabinet, peeking out through a slightly open curtain to watch the grand spectacle.
The overwhelming chorus of greetings seemed to warm the increasingly chilly air.
When the Grand Empress Dowager cheerfully allowed everyone to rise, Kangxi first escorted her into the main hall.
Shortly after, applause rang out from the entrances of various halls as the palace attendants relayed the signal down the line.
Servants from the Imperial Kitchen, the Tea Room, the Internal Affairs Office, and the Office of Ceremonies immediately got to work—signaling the official start of the banquet.
Once the feast began, Cuiwei and the others were actually less busy.
They could at least catch their breath, have a sip of water, and even change into fresh clothes.
Their primary duty was to serve tea to the Grand Empress Dowager, the Empress Dowager, and the Emperor, swapping in fresh tea every incense-burning cycle.
The Office of Internal Affairs would handle the food and drinks for others, as the servants who served in the imperial court weren’t available to just anyone.
Taking a break in the Tea Room, Cuiwei tilted her chin towards the main hall of Qianqing Palace, half-tilting her head while winking at Fang He.
The movement was as skillful as an acrobat’s trick.
Fang He immediately understood—Ru Yue was probably at the imperial court right now, still helping to ease the workload of the Imperial Tea Room.
She and Cuiwei discreetly observed Bai Min.
While the other young palace maids occasionally revealed subtle expressions of disdain, Bai Min alone remained unfazed, moving in and out with a calm, faint smile.
The serene expression on her moonlit face made her even more pleasing to the eye.
The two were now even more certain—there was gossip to be had.
The midday banquet dragged on past 2 p.m., and by 5 p.m., the evening banquet was set to begin.
There was only an hour and a half to clean Qianqing Palace and prepare for the masters to celebrate the Mid-Autumn Festival together.
The turnover rate was as efficient as a modern-day banquet service.
Fang He had watched the grand scene for most of the day, but she didn’t find it particularly eye-opening.
She had seen enough grand gatherings in her previous life.
She only had one thought—exhaustion.
Even though she didn’t need to leave the Tea Room, she was still drained.
This was far more taxing than any state banquet in the modern era.
Serving in the palace wasn’t like the modern world, where people had scheduled breaks.
On significant occasions, everyone had to endure, and not just endure—they had to maintain an energetic spirit, as even the slightest hint of fatigue was considered inauspicious.
Fang He, Bai Min, and Ren Xia were originally on night duty, yet they had been up and working in the Tea Room since before dawn.
And they still had to stay up for their night shift.
No matter how exhausted one was, the masters had to be served.
Even the consorts in the inner court, at most, could rest in their own palaces for a short while before they had to change clothes, redo their hair, and be ready to greet the Grand Empress Dowager, the Empress Dowager, and the Emperor.
The young consorts who weren’t entitled to sedan chairs had to wear platform shoes all day, and by nightfall, they could barely walk without attendants supporting them.
This was why the palace rarely hosted grand banquets—each time one was held, both the masters and the servants took days to recover.
While the outside was still bustling, Cuiwei left Cen Ying and Yulian to watch over the Tea Room and let Fang He, Bai Min, and Ren Xia sneak off for a quick nap in a side room.
That was the best rest they could hope for.
Once the evening banquet ended, Cuiwei and the others could finally return to rest.
But Fang He and her group had to stay awake until the third watch of the night (midnight).
After barely an hour of light sleep, Fang He was shaken awake to wash up and refresh herself.
As soon as she sat up, she felt sore all over and wished she could just blink and fast-forward to midnight, see Kangxi off to bed, and switch shifts so she could collapse in her side chamber for an entire day.
But the night was unbearably long.
Fang He lost count of how many pots of water she boiled before the applause outside signaled that the food was being served.
She glanced at the water clock—damn, it was already the Hour of the Dog (7-9 p.m.).
What had they been doing in there for a whole hour?
Just talking?
Inside Qianqing Palace, however, the atmosphere was anything but dull.
If anything, it was overly lively.
No one was focused on eating.
The food at imperial banquets wasn’t all that delicious, and most people had already filled up on snacks earlier in the afternoon.
From the moment the banquet began, before the “Three Great Mountains” (Kangxi, the Grand Empress Dowager, and the Empress Dowager) even arrived, everyone’s eyes were already darting excitedly toward the First Prince and the Crown Prince.
The tension between the two had been evident since February.
After the Zheng family in Taiwan surrendered, Shi Lang, the Admiral of the Fujian Navy, was promoted to Junior Guardian of the Crown Prince and continued overseeing the navy while working with Governor-General Yao Qisheng to lift the maritime trade ban.
However, Yisang’a, who had also made significant contributions in the Battle of Penghu, was reassigned from Guangzhou to Ningguta to oversee warship construction—an apparent demotion in everything but title.
At the same time, Kangxi appointed Mu Tianyan as the Governor of Hubei and Hunan, replacing Yisang’a in managing maritime affairs—a convenient promotion.
The delicate part?
Yisang’a was the son-in-law of Songgotu.
Meanwhile, Mu Tianyan was a protégé of Nalan Mingzhu.
Kangxi’s move was practically an open warning to Songgotu and a clear boost to the First Prince’s political influence, as he was soon to begin official duties in the imperial court.
Yet, the First Prince, Yinti, didn’t know when to stop.
He provoked the Crown Prince multiple times, fueling a resentment that had been festering for months.
Previously, Songgotu had tried to gain sympathy for the Crown Prince by encouraging him to drink and act miserable in front of Kangxi.
The plan backfired—Kangxi smashed Songgotu’s forehead open and docked his salary for a year.
Ever since, Songgotu had been holding a grudge.
At every opportunity, he would advise the Crown Prince.
He would say, “In just a year, the First Prince will enter court, but if His Majesty gives no orders for you, you’ll still be stuck studying in the Upper Study and Hongde Hall…”
No matter how well-versed one was in the art of kingship, if all the ministers were shifting their attention toward the First Prince, what good would studying do?