Every month, Xiao Chenzi’s shop outside the palace could reliably send in nearly ten taels of silver.
On top of that, before she left, Qiao Cheng had secretly slipped her some extra money.
As long as she didn’t break any palace rules, Fang He could still manage to eat well, drink well, and sleep well.
With food delivered straight to her, Fang He wasn’t picky.
Back when she had winter vacations, she could survive ten to fifteen days at home on instant noodles without stepping outside.
Eat, sleep, repeat—while eavesdropping on gossip filtering in from outside her door.
She didn’t even have to do any work!
If she weren’t worried about someone overhearing, she might have burst out laughing.
Once the dragon boat had sailed past the Yangliuqing River estuary and everything had more or less settled down, Li Dequan finally appeared before Fang He.
“You must have been anxiously waiting—”
But before he could finish his gloating remark, he paused awkwardly.
After all those days of neglect… why did she look like she had gained weight instead?
Fang He, ever so understanding, showed a nervous yet patient expression.
“Brother Li, has His Majesty finally remembered me?”
“I—I wasn’t complaining about being locked up in my room, it’s just… receiving a salary without doing any work feels…” So incredibly satisfying, hahaha!
She lowered her head, her shoulders trembling slightly, as if she were on the verge of tears.
Li Dequan suppressed his doubts and said, “His Majesty has summoned you for an audience. Hurry and tidy yourself up—you’re coming with me!”
Fang He’s heart gave a violent jolt.
The guillotine had finally fallen.
She anxiously rubbed her hands together and hesitated.
“Um… Brother Li… My belongings were never delivered. I really don’t have anything to tidy up…”
Her face was already washed, and she had rinsed her mouth—at least Kangxi wouldn’t be greeted with bad breath.
But if she could appear a little more disheveled, that wouldn’t be a bad thing.
Better to keep a low profile.
Li Dequan: …
A miscalculation.
He should have had her things sent over earlier.
But he didn’t dare keep the Emperor waiting, so he had no choice but to lead Fang He, slightly uneasy, up to the second level of the dragon boat.
The dragon boat had three levels.
The top floor housed the Imperial Study, where the Emperor conducted state affairs.
On either side were watchtowers where guards monitored the river for any potential threats.
The second floor contained Kangxi’s sleeping quarters.
The first floor and the lower deck were occupied by palace servants and eunuchs.
Fang He silently encouraged herself—if the Emperor was meeting her in his private quarters rather than the Imperial Study, then it meant he wasn’t too busy.
He was in a relatively relaxed mood.
Taking a few cautious steps forward, she caught a glimpse of familiar imperial yellow robes from the corner of her eye.
She immediately halted and knelt quietly.
“This servant, Fang He, humbly greets Your Majesty. May Your Majesty’s health be well.”
For a long moment, there was only silence.
Then came the sound of a chess piece landing on the board.
Only after that did Kangxi finally speak, his tone indifferent.
“Do you know what happened to the previous batch of imperial attendants?”
Fang He replied softly, “Your Majesty, this servant does not know. But I am aware that they made mistakes. There are only so many possible outcomes. This servant dares not speculate.”
Kangxi let out a faint chuckle.
“Oh?”
The rustling of fabric came from nearby.
Kangxi shifted, reclining on the soft couch, his cold yet strikingly handsome face carrying a rare trace of warmth.
“Then let me tell you,” he said.
“Every single one of them had their bones crushed. Their tongues were cut out. Their corpses were discarded in the mass graves.”
“This included the Mistress of the Bedchamber and Wenxin, who had done nothing wrong.”
“This was all because you instigated them—manipulated them into harming my imperial body in an attempt to win favor.”
“So tell me, should I spare you?”
Fang He lifted her gaze slightly, her expression calm.
She had imagined countless ways she could die—but being emotionally manipulated into submission had never been one of them.
She forced herself to remain composed and answered steadily, “Your Majesty, forgive this servant, but I cannot admit to such a crime.”
“Ru Yue, Bai Min, and the others never harbored good intentions toward me. They would have gladly stepped over my broken body to climb higher. I was fully aware of this.”
“My actions may have incited conflict, but I never aimed to take lives.”
“They met their end because of their own greed. As for the others, some were foolish and allowed themselves to be used, while others had their judgment clouded by ambition.
Since they enjoyed privileges greater than the average palace maid, they should have been prepared to bear the consequences of their choices.”
Qiao Wen had once looked after both Fang He and her predecessor’s body.
She had never actively harmed her, so Fang He had given her ten taels of silver to settle the karma.
Kangxi was not a ruler who killed indiscriminately.
If others had died, their mistakes had nothing to do with her.
She was not some salt merchant selling contraband.
As for Ru Yue and Bai Min?
Sorry, but she was never a saint.
The only rule she followed was the rule of survival.
In her past life, anyone who bullied her—if she gained enough power—she would pay them back double.
In this world, perhaps people wouldn’t even bother bullying her, because she was nothing more than a lowly servant.
But if someone dared to threaten her life?
If she didn’t gut them first, she’d already be showing mercy.
No one was going to use morality to shackle her.
This was the first time Kangxi had seen Fang He speak so sharply in his presence.
He was so amused that he actually laughed out loud.
A moment later, the hem of his bright yellow robes—and a pair of large boots—entered Fang He’s line of sight.
A white jade fan lifted her chin.
Fang He’s breath hitched.
Her clear, limpid doe eyes met Kangxi’s gaze—eyes that were warm and laced with amusement.
For a brief moment, Kangxi didn’t seem like an Emperor.
He looked more like a carefree nobleman traveling for leisure—his presence gentler than the crisp early autumn air on the river.
“It has been a long time since I’ve seen such a clever woman.”
He reached out, his fingers staining slightly from the grime on her face, and gripped her chin, pulling her closer.
Kangxi laughed, tucking the white jade fan behind his neck, showing no concern for the dirt on Fang He.
Fang He gasped in shock.
She nearly fell into his chest, barely steadying herself by bracing against his knee.
Her face showed genuine panic.
Thank heavens she had hidden her face powder earlier—what was he planning to do?!
Was Master Kang not picky about his food?!
At that moment, Liang Jiugong, who had been serving in the chamber, lowered his head.
Kangxi had no improper intentions.
He merely brushed aside Fang He’s bangs, observing her quietly for a few seconds before abruptly standing up.
Then, with an air of disdain, he strode away to wash his hands.
Fang He: “……”
She hadn’t washed her hair in days for a practical reason, okay?!
It wasn’t her fault she was dirty!
Kangxi glanced at the folds of his robe before sitting down again.
“Liang Jiugong was right,” he said.
“You do look somewhat familiar.”
“So I will say a few more words to you.”
“Do you know why I haven’t asked if you admit your mistake?”
“You have always known where you went wrong,” Kangxi said.
“The reason I call you clever is because there are too few women in this palace who know how to toe the line as well as you do.”
“You knew that Nanny Xu disliked you. While relying on her to survive, you managed to endure loneliness and hide away in the Tea Room for nine whole years. That’s more patience than even some of the servants by my side.”
Liang Jiugong felt a sharp pain in his knees—his master was excellent in all ways, except he loved criticizing others in comparison…
Fang He: “……”
Um… was there any chance that she was just a well-behaved introvert?!
“When Nanny Xu died, you feared Qiao Cheng wouldn’t be reliable. That’s when you finally stepped out of the Tea Room to attract my attention.”
Liang Jiugong: “……”
That actually made sense.
After all, if you wanted to pin blame on someone, you needed to at least see their face first.
Fang He’s expression became even more frozen.
Other than when Wei Zhu was beaten, when had she ever taken the initiative to step forward?!
“You dared to repeatedly scheme against me, even taking advantage of my drunkenness to overstep your position. You knew full well that you were of value to me.”
The warmth in Kangxi’s gaze suddenly vanished, replaced by a cold, cutting murderous intent that enveloped Fang He like an icy blade.
“You are so clever that it forces me to wonder—if one day you were to climb to a high position, would you even dare to gamble with my life itself just to get what you want?”
“That day will never come.”
Fang He interrupted Kangxi’s words, her face pale.
She abruptly lifted her head, her fearful yet forcibly steady gaze meeting Kangxi’s eyes.
“This servant would never betray Your Majesty!”
“Your Majesty’s blessings ensure peace under heaven. There will never again be an emperor in the Qing dynasty as wise and illustrious as you, whose name will be written in history forever!”
“To this servant, there is no possible gain in this world that could ever compare to my loyalty to such a sovereign.”
It was a fresh argument, practical enough to be convincing.
The murderous intent in Kangxi’s eyes faded slightly, replaced by intrigue.
“Even if I were to demand your life?”
Fang He didn’t hesitate.
“Even if Your Majesty demands this servant’s life!”
Kangxi nodded.
“Very well! Liang Jiugong, give her a cup of poisoned wine.”
Liang Jiugong stepped forward, carrying a cup that had clearly been prepared in advance, and smiled at Fang He with mock sympathy.
“Miss, be careful holding it. This poison seals the throat upon contact with blood—I assure you, it will spare you any unnecessary pain.”
Fang He shuddered violently, then gritted her teeth and forced herself to remain calm as she reached for the jade-patterned blue porcelain cup.
Kangxi’s murderous intent had been real.
And when she recalled his earlier words about her looking familiar…
If she refused, she would die.
If she accepted, she might still have a chance.
She had to gamble.
She shut her eyes.
For a fleeting moment, was it her imagination, or did she smell a faint hint of sweet almonds?
Which poison smelled like that again?
Her mind wailed in panic, but she couldn’t remember.
She could only steel herself and bring the cup to her lips.
Just as the rim of the cup touched her lips, a warm, strong hand suddenly grasped her wrist.
An instant later, an iron-like arm wrapped around her waist.
A voice—so gentle it was almost a lover’s whisper—brushed against her ear.
“Good girl. Slow down. I believe you.”
Kangxi guided her hand aside, taking a few steps before lightly tightening his grip.
The porcelain cup slipped from her fingers and fell into a flower pot nearby.
The liquid inside let out a sinister sizzle—clearly highly toxic.
Fang He’s breath caught in her throat.
For a brief moment, her mind was filled with an overwhelming mix of absurdity and terror.
He was really playing for keeps?!
She no longer cared who was around.
Her hands clutched at the fabric of his robe, and she slowly slid downward.
Fang He had never known what it felt like to collapse from fear before.
She had only ever feared poverty.
The poorer she was, the stronger she became.
But now she understood.
There was a difference between being crushed to death suddenly and actively stepping toward death.
She was absolutely terrified.
Kangxi looked at the little palace maid now curled up at his feet, and the pent-up frustration in his chest finally dissipated.
With a teasing smirk, he said, “So, you are afraid of death after all.”
Fang He’s mind buzzed in confusion.
Still clutching her throat, she muttered, “Only other people’s deaths can be ignored…”
Kangxi chuckled.
“I’ll give you one last chance.”
“The grappling techniques you used against me—who taught them to you? From what I know, Xu Jiashi had no such skills.”
Fang He remained frozen, her hands still covering her throat.
She looked like she had been scared senseless, her voice stammering as she answered.
“I… I hit my head once, and between life and death, I found myself in a strange, fairyland-like place…”
“There, I met an old woman who loved wearing red.”
“She… she said she feared that I—I mean, this servant—would be lonely and abandoned, or fall for a heartless man. So she taught me a few useful tricks… for survival…”
She wasn’t lying.
In her past life, the Qing dynasty itself had been the strange fairyland.
The grappling moves—the over-the-shoulder throw and the self-defense set—had been taught to her by Geng Shuning, who had learned them from a retired female police officer who also loved wearing red.
Kangxi’s gaze deepened with thought.
He raised an eyebrow.
“How many moves did she teach you?”
Fang He, feeling a growing sense of unease, hesitated before answering.
“F-Four moves…”
Kangxi’s last bit of doubt vanished.
His interest only grew stronger as he gave an instruction with clear amusement—
“Good. Then show me the remaining three moves.”
Before Kangxi could finish speaking, a pitiful wailing sound filled the air.
Fang He clutched her mouth, sobbing.
“This servant dares not…!”
Kangxi frowned.
“I grant you a pardon!”
Fang He: “……”
NO! Your Majesty, you can’t do this!!!
Her sobs only grew louder.
How was she supposed to use the last three moves—
Bending his fingers backward, gouging his eyes, and kicking him in the crotch—
ON KANGXI HIMSELF AND STILL WALK OUT ALIVE?!
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