She wanted to stay under the radar, yes—but she didn’t want to live in poverty!
Serving directly in front of the Emperor meant more opportunities for rewards, and if handled well, she could blend into the background completely—the safest strategy was hiding in plain sight.
Thus, over the next few days, Fang He became responsible for serving tea.
As part of her duties, she had to stand outside the hall while waiting to switch out the tea, or be available whenever officials came to meet the Emperor.
She wasn’t allowed inside anymore—the tea had to be handed over to the senior eunuchs.
But that didn’t stop her from stealing glances whenever Kangxi entered or exited.
Thanks to her wide-angle vision—honed from years of working in the service industry—she finally got a good look at the Emperor’s face.
And she was shocked.
Wasn’t Kangxi supposed to have smallpox scars?
But the face she saw was smooth and clean, slightly angular, with phoenix eyes, a high nose bridge, and perfectly arched brows.
He even had a slight mixed-race appearance.
Tall, lean, and well-built—no wonder the palace maids kept throwing themselves at him.
What was even weirder was that his skin was fairer than hers.
Back in her world, tanned men were considered more masculine, but this royal beauty looked like he had just stepped out of a luxury spa.
If not for the sharpness in his eyes and the unmistakable aura of an emperor, he would have fit right in at a high-end VIP club.
Fang He mentally clicked her tongue, glancing at her own yellow-toned skin.
She suddenly had the urge to do a face mask and hand treatment.
Meanwhile, Kangxi…
He had no idea someone was silently critiquing his skincare routine.
He was focused on piecing together the truth—comparing the Crown Prince’s confession with the testimonies extracted by Gu Wenxing.
Someone had whispered rumors into Yinreng’s ear, claiming that Kangxi favored the Eldest Prince, valued military prowess above all, and was considering replacing the Crown Prince.
Yinreng had believed it.
To him, the evidence was clear:
If Kangxi didn’t have such intentions, then why was Nalan Mingzhu—a high-ranking Manchu noble—gaining favor?
Why was he constantly opposing Songgotu, his maternal grandfather?
Why had Songgotu suffered multiple setbacks, and Kangxi had done nothing to protect him?
The Crown Prince’s drinking incident was clearly linked to Songgotu, and Kangxi berated his son mercilessly.
“I raised you from infancy with my own hands—do you think any of your brothers received such personal guidance from me?”
“Do you have any idea how much effort I’ve put into teaching you to rule? If I replace you, the literati of Jiangnan will curse the Aisin Gioro clan as barbaric! Do you think I have the time to waste training your older brother?”
“I’ve taught you so many principles, but you still haven’t learned the most important one—a ruler must not be gullible! You believe whatever nonsense people tell you? Has your brain been eaten by dogs?!”
Yinreng was properly scolded, and he finally admitted his mistake.
He even began eating and taking medicine again.
Everyone knew love and anger go hand in hand—judging by the sheer amount of spit Kangxi had sprayed on his son, it was clear he hadn’t given up on him.
With the Crown Prince’s drama settled, Kangxi returned from Yuqing Palace and immediately summoned Gu Wenxing again.
A few days later, several servants from the palaces of Consort Tong and Consort Niohuru disappeared.
Even two of Consort Hui’s rough maids vanished from Changchun Palace.
The matter was buried.
And Qianqing Palace returned to peace once more.
***
Fang He’s slow and steady routine of going to the Emperor’s quarters every day with nothing else to do but serve tea had finally worn down Ru Yue and Qiao Wen’s patience.
They were now convinced that when Fang He had first returned from serving the Emperor, her fear had been nothing but an act—a clever ruse to trick them.
So, when Fang He returned to the Imperial Tea Room, Ru Yue snidely remarked,
“Well, well, Fang He, you’ve been quite pleased with yourself these past few days.”
“Could it be that now that your backing is gone, you’ve suddenly grown some ambition? People really should know their place.”
“That’s not fair to say,” Qiao Wen pretended to scold, shaking her head as if she disapproved of Ru Yue’s words.
But when she turned to face Fang He, there was no mistaking the sharp glint in her eyes.
“Sister Fang He, I know I shouldn’t be repaying kindness with demands. After all, I only asked you to cover for me because I burned my hand—it was unavoidable.”
“But now, my hand is healed, and Ru Yue’s headache is gone. You can’t expect to keep working so hard, right?”
Fang He snickered internally—Oh, so now that they think it’s safe, they’re suddenly bold enough to start asserting dominance again?
Where had this courage been a few days ago when they were afraid to even breathe near her?
Still, she didn’t refuse.
Maintaining a low profile meant she couldn’t act too differently from the original host all at once.
So, she obediently twisted her fingers anxiously, sighed in relief, and shuffled toward the small clay stove, looking as if she had been freed from a burden.
“As you wish, I’ll just keep tending to the fire,” she said meekly, graciously helping Ru Yue up and smiling at the stove like it was her long-lost love.
“Only now do I realize how hard you both work. After spending these past few days out in the wind, I keep feeling like my skin is all itchy.”
Huh?
Ru Yue froze mid-stride, her previously smug expression stiffening.
For some strange reason, her own face started to feel itchy as well.
Both she and Qiao Wen turned to look at Fang He—and it suddenly hit them.
Fang He may have had a plain appearance, but the skin she exposed was unbelievably clear and smooth—far better than their own.
Qiao Wen forced a smile, eyes gleaming with sudden curiosity.
“Sister Fang He, do you have a skincare routine?” she asked, probing.
Fang He blinked innocently, then glanced at the boiling kettle before murmuring hesitantly,
“I don’t really have one… But my Gugu once told me that if you steam your face with hot water vapor every day and pat it lightly, your skin will naturally stay clean and smooth. I don’t know if it actually works, though.”
Ru Yue perked up immediately.
So that was why Fang He always obediently stayed in the Tea Room—she had a secret trick.
Now that she thought about it, Fang He’s skin had always looked better than theirs, despite working under the same conditions.
This created a dilemma.
On one hand, they didn’t want to give up the opportunity to serve at the Emperor’s side.
On the other hand, they wanted the skincare benefits of working near the boiling kettle.
Qiao Wen, being the more cunning of the two, flashed Ru Yue a meaningful look and then grinned.
“Actually, as maids of the Imperial Tea Room, we’re supposed to rotate between serving the Emperor and tending the fire. We can’t let Sister Fang He do all the work, can we?”
Ru Yue’s eyes lit up, immediately catching on.
“That’s right! Since we all take shifts in the Tea Room, we should share the responsibility of boiling water too. Let’s take turns throughout the day!”
They couldn’t just sit by the fire all day, but if they rotated, they’d get enough steam exposure without losing their chances to gain favor in front of the Emperor.
As for whether Fang He might outshine them in the Emperor’s presence?
Ha!
They scoffed internally.
With Fang He’s weak, useless personality, even if the Emperor himself gave her a ladder to climb the heavens, she’d never be able to seize the opportunity.
Smiling pleasantly, they finalized their plan, completely ignoring Fang He’s opinion on the matter.
***
Before the two could even decide who would take the first shift, Liang Jiugong himself appeared at the Imperial Tea Room.
“Eunuch Liang! What brings you here?” Ru Yue immediately stood up, her face breaking into a warm smile as she stepped forward to bow respectfully.
Qiao Wen’s smile also became more genuine, her voice soft and sweet as she asked, “Does His Majesty need tea? What would he like to drink? I’ll prepare it right away.”
But Liang Jiugong ignored them completely.
Instead, he scanned the room, his eyes searching for someone.
The moment he spotted the slow-moving figure by the stove, he clicked his tongue and waved her over.
“Fang He, isn’t it? Earlier, you never even said your name—no wonder I didn’t recognize you.”
He smiled, narrowing his eyes like a crafty old fox.
“I had an old friendship with Xu Momo. Even though she’s gone, our bond hasn’t disappeared.”
“Back in the day, when I was ill, Xu Momo even sent me herbal medicine. I’ve always remembered that favor—it’s just that I never had the chance to repay it.”
“Now, it just so happens that there’s an opening at the Emperor’s side. Do you want to serve in the inner quarters? I can make that happen.”
Ru Yue and Qiao Wen froze on the spot.
Their faces burned with humiliation, as if they had just been slapped.
Their shocked gazes turned sharp as knives, stabbing toward Fang He.
Why her?!
What made her worthy of this fortune?!