Fang He was stunned—this was something she had never expected.
She thought she had been keeping a low profile well enough, blending in without drawing any attention while on duty these past days.
How could this be…?
Fang He didn’t believe a single word from Liang Jiugong!
If he truly cared about Madam Xu’s kindness, would he have allowed the original Fang He to live in a side room for nine years?
Even increasing her monthly stipend would have been just a word from him.
She wasn’t complaining—after all, Qiao Cheng and Madam Xu hadn’t made any effort to change the situation either.
They were solely focused on ensuring that the original Fang He stayed quietly in the palace until she could leave, though she had no idea why.
She just felt that Liang Jiugong had a mouth as deceitful as a ghost.
It seemed that whether or not a man was “equipped,” they were all the same kind.
Without a moment’s hesitation, under the watchful and predatory gazes of Qiao Wen and Ru Yue, Fang He took a few steps back and plopped onto the ground.
“I—I don’t dare. Let Qiao Wen go, Ru Yue is good too…”
She sounded as if she was about to cry, burying her head in her chest, refusing to look at anyone.
“Madam said I’m clumsy, that I’d end up causing someone to lose their life… I just want to stay in the Imperial Tea Room.”
Qiao Wen and Ru Yue’s expressions softened slightly, though their inner ridicule only deepened.
Hadn’t they said it before?
Even if they handed Fang He a ladder to the heavens, she wouldn’t be able to climb it.
Both of them eagerly turned to look at Liang Jiugong with anticipation.
Liang Jiugong, however, gazed at the terrified Fang He with a complicated expression.
This whole matter today had been his own decision.
Lately, the Emperor would occasionally furrow his brows for no apparent reason, especially when he was deep in thought.
Others might not have noticed, but Liang Jiugong had been serving his master since childhood, and he immediately sensed something was off.
A few days ago, when he saw the Emperor in a good mood, he tentatively asked about it.
Kangxi never revealed his emotions easily, nor would he casually promote a palace maid whose face he couldn’t even remember over some trivial matter.
He simply gave a light command: “Didn’t the Imperial Household Department just finish its small selection? Pick a few nimble ones to serve at my side.”
Kangxi didn’t like breaking protocol.
There were plenty of consorts in the harem, and the side chambers of Qianqing Palace also had many “little acknowledgments” (low-ranked concubines).
When he rested at night, the Sleeping Chamber Madam would select palace maids to assist him.
There was no need for him to resort to “picking from the nest” out of desperation—he had always been attended by eunuchs.
This was the first time he had ever requested palace staff to serve him closely, and Liang Jiugong couldn’t help but overthink it.
He knew every birthmark on the eunuchs serving in the imperial presence, except for one anomaly—
Fang He, who had been called into the hall to serve tea that day and had come out just fine.
Guessing his master’s intentions, Liang Jiugong figured it was a harmless favor to investigate, so he decided to test the waters.
The result?
He only confirmed one thing: Fang He truly was a poor speaker, just as she had demonstrated when delivering a message at Zhaoren Hall.
As for Qiao Wen and Ru Yue, he paid them no mind.
Plenty of people wanted to serve in the Emperor’s presence, stuffing his hands with silver just for the opportunity.
Why should he bother promoting two unimpressive nobodies?
“Suit yourself,” Liang Jiugong waved his hand indifferently, losing interest.
“I’ll mention it to Madam Qin later. If the Imperial Tea Room has enough staff, your future won’t be affected.”
With that, he turned and left, not caring in the slightest about the consequences his actions might bring upon Fang He.
***
Fang He cursed that damn eunuch in her heart as she trembled and struggled to get up from the ground.
She shrank toward the small muddy path, murmuring like a lost soul.
“I… I don’t want to go anywhere. My tea-making skills are not as good as yours, and I don’t know how to talk… I’d better just boil the water.”
Qiao Wen and Ru Yue shot her a disdainful glare but swallowed their sharp words.
Dealing with someone as useless as her was a waste of breath.
What was the point?
Better to focus on figuring out how to serve in the Emperor’s presence.
As for Fang He refusing to take on new duties, the thought had crossed their minds earlier.
But seeing her like this, they dismissed it entirely—her opinion didn’t matter.
She was useless anyway.
When they needed to steam their faces, they could just make her stand outside and keep watch.
Could she even dare refuse?
Fang He listened to the two of them whispering about their bright futures, and a faint smirk tugged at her lips.
In the hotel industry, working in any role that involved dealing with trouble required strong skills in performance, negotiation, and adaptability.
As long as you could resolve a problem, playing pitiful was nothing.
If a customer or a boss gave you a bad review, your performance bonus for the whole month was gone.
Thinking of her paycheck, it was no wonder everyone in the industry was practically an Oscar-worthy actress.
But in the next moment, she wiped the cold sweat from her forehead, her small face turning a bit bitter.
Damn it.
No practice, no say.
She had underestimated things before.
In modern service industries, there were well-established procedures—one single service wouldn’t make or break anything.
Climbing the ranks depended on your resume, education, and how much of a corporate drone you were.
But this was a feudal dynasty.
The true masters of the Forbidden City were only a handful of people, and personal whims could change fates in an instant.
She quickly abandoned her earlier plan to push toward the Emperor’s service.
If she accidentally caught “Master Kang’s” attention and became an obstacle to someone else, with no backing to protect her, she could be skinned alive and ground into bone soup before she knew it.
There were many roads to Rome—if this one was blocked, she’d just find another.
Her gaze fell on the steaming kettle, watching the water vapor curl into the air.
Deep in thought, she quietly placed the kettle on the table beside the clepsydra.
In just a few steps, a new plan had formed.
The palace wasn’t full of masters—it was full of palace maids.
Even eunuchs had to step aside, because the real favorites of the noble ladies had to serve them up close, and it wasn’t convenient for eunuchs to do that.
And if there was one thing women all loved—it was beauty.
Palace maids couldn’t paint their brows, wear bright colors, or accessorize.
The most they could do was tie their hair with a red silk ribbon.
Even applying a bit of lip color during festivals was considered a privilege.
They wanted to be beautiful but had no way to achieve it.
But she had a way!
Back in school, she had no doting parents, worked herself to the bone to earn just enough for living expenses, and had no money for makeup or fashionable clothes.
She had to DIY everything.
Want skincare?
Homemade face masks and herbal whitening pills were a must.
Want makeup?
Creating a natural-looking rice powder foundation wasn’t that hard.
Want better-looking clothes?
Minor alterations could make a huge difference.
The more she thought about it, the more promising the idea seemed.
Going the grassroots route was safer than cozying up to the masters—and she could still make good money.
She just had to keep a low profile, and when the time was right, she could have her cheap uncle-in-law pull some strings to get her out.
***
Fang He felt her heart settle and immediately started preparing to get to work.
The first thing to consider was startup capital—she needed to make some samples first and gift them to the right people who could help spread the word.
She counted her funds: seven qian of silver and twenty copper coins—all her grand ambitions suddenly seemed laughable.
With this amount, she couldn’t even afford a single type of herb.
A few days into March, Fang He finally received her monthly stipend.
Since she had taken several days off, she only received one tael and five qian of silver.
Fighting back the pain of parting with her money, she took out five qian for herself and then, with gritted teeth, stuffed a small one-tael silver ingot into Madam Qin’s hand.
Her eyes brimmed with tears as she looked at the older woman pitifully.
“Madam Qin, my aunt left in such a hurry that she didn’t have time to tell me anything. Do you know where her belongings went?”
“I only had this one relative left… I don’t want anything else, just something of hers to remember her by.”
She was hoping to retrieve at least some of the silver the original owner had handed over over the years!
Over time, Madam Qin had come to understand Fang He’s nature—she knew this girl wasn’t reckless or greedy, so she must genuinely want a keepsake.
The usual sternness on Madam Qin’s face softened slightly, and a trace of pity flickered in her eyes.
“Madam Xu had consumption (tuberculosis). The Office of Internal Affairs burned all of her belongings.”
Fang He: “……”
That meant her money had already lined someone’s pockets, and there was no way she was getting a single copper coin back.
After roughly calculating how much silver had been handed over through the years, Fang He clutched her chest in heartbreak, wiping away nonexistent tears as she dejectedly returned to her room.
A whole hundred taels of silver, gone, just like that!
“Fang He-jie? Hey!”
Someone suddenly patted her shoulder.
“What are you thinking about? I called you several times and you didn’t answer—did you lose your soul? I’m telling you, that’s not good. If you bump into a master and they notice, you might end up getting flogged…”
Fang He nearly jumped in fright before realizing that the person rambling in front of her was talking like a monk from Journey to the West—effectively cutting off her sorrowful thoughts.
The person was Wei Disheng, Qiao Cheng’s godson.
Rumor had it that his mother slipped and accidentally gave birth to him right on the farmland, hence his name “Di Sheng” (born on the ground).
In the original owner’s memories, this guy wasn’t this chatty, was he?
She quickly cut him off.
“Where are you coming from?”
Wei Disheng patted his forehead.
“Godfather knows you’re off duty today, so he sent me to call you over to the storage room for a talk.”
Fang He raised an eyebrow slightly.
Her cheap uncle-in-law was not a particularly warm or friendly person.
When the original owner first entered Qianqing Palace, she witnessed Qiao Cheng brutally beating a disobedient eunuch with a bamboo cane until his skin was torn and bleeding—she had been terrified of him ever since.
Strangely, both Madam Xu and Qiao Cheng had always been distant toward the original Fang He.
Every month, they simply had her visit Madam Xu’s side room to pick up some embroidery work, but otherwise, they barely spoke to her.
Was this “uncle-in-law” planning to follow in Madam Xu’s footsteps and demand that she hand over her monthly salary now that she’d just received it?
Fang He thought for a moment before ultimately deciding to follow Wei Disheng.
She definitely didn’t want to hand over her silver—but she also couldn’t refuse outright.
She still needed to maintain the relationship, or else if trouble ever arose, she’d have no one to turn to.
***
After transmigrating, Fang He had learned from the original owner’s memories that the Office of Internal Affairs (Jingshi Room) was far more than just carrying a green tablet to be presented to the Emperor.
Dealing with the Imperial Household Department, managing palace staff in Qianqing Palace and the Eastern and Western Six Palaces.
Handling miscellaneous duties, overseeing regulations, inspections, external warehouses, treasury funds, fire prevention—all of these fell under the Jingshi Room’s authority.
The chief eunuch of Jingshi Room was an advisory official, under whom two Palace Supervisors managed six Deputy Supervisors, each responsible for different tasks.
Qiao Cheng was one of these Deputy Supervisors, in charge of external treasury funds, collection, and distribution.
Since the eunuchs under his command were responsible for distributing the monthly stipends, that’s how Fang He had managed to receive her full amount.
Otherwise, with the original owner’s timid nature, her stipend would have been deducted down to nothing.
As they neared the storage rooms, Fang He lowered her voice, “Isn’t Deputy Supervisor Qiao supposed to be busy today?”
Wei Disheng snorted and puffed up with pride on his round little face.
“It’s just the monthly stipends—why would my godfather need to bother himself with that? There are plenty of freeloaders under him for that job…”
Fang He: “……”
Alright, I get it, Master Monk, please stop chanting!
Wei Disheng chattered non-stop as he led Fang He to a side room in the northwest corner of the storage area.
As soon as she stepped inside, she saw Qiao Cheng sitting on a small wooden stool, a square table in front of him, topped with a plate of braised beef and a large-bellied silver wine flask.
A faint scent of alcohol wafted from the table—he was clearly enjoying himself.
Fang He: “……”
Palace beef was NOT easy to come by!
The Jingshi Room sure lived comfortably.
Wuwu…
She hadn’t eaten meat in nearly a month—when would she finally get to enjoy this kind of luxury?
“You’re here, sit down,” Qiao Cheng said briefly.
Not much of a talker.
“How’s your injury?”
Fang He kept her head down as she carefully took a seat at the edge of the stool, replying in a low voice.
“It’s almost healed. Thank you for your concern.”
Before Qiao Cheng could say anything else, Fang He quickly took out the five qian of silver from her pouch and hesitantly placed it on the low table, pushing it forward.
She murmured like a mosquito, explaining, “This month’s stipend was one tael and five qian. The larger share went to Madam Qin, as she instructed. I’ll bring yours next month.”
When she mentioned “Madam Xu,” a flicker of sorrow crossed Qiao Cheng’s face.
He sighed and downed his cup of wine.
This time, even Wei Disheng fell silent.
Skillfully refilling his godfather’s cup, he then stepped back quietly.
Qiao Cheng wiped his face, but he didn’t touch the wine again.
His heart ached, but he knew better than to drink too much—there were always people eyeing the treasury’s resources, waiting for him to make a mistake.
Instead, he pushed the silver back toward Fang He and pulled out a plump pouch from his robe.
“From now on, keep your stipend for yourself. Just give something to Madam Qin every two or three months. This is what your aunt left behind for you. Take it.”
Fang He’s eyes lit up—what a turn of events!
Startup capital secured!
This is definitely my real uncle-in-law!
She nearly burst out laughing but quickly bit her tongue, keeping her head lowered even more.
“I… I have no other family left. You’re the only elder I have now… I can’t accept this, please keep it…”
(I WANT IT, I WANT IT, I WANT IT! PLEASE PERSUADE ME A LITTLE MORE!)
Qiao Cheng couldn’t hear her inner screaming, but he also had no intention of taking the silver back.
“I told you to take it, so take it. Later, go to the kitchen and buy yourself something good to nourish your body—don’t leave behind any lingering illnesses. If you ever run out of silver, come find me.”
“Since you recognize me as your elder, then I have to look out for you too. Your aunt saved my life back then—I can’t let her worry even after passing on.”
Fang He’s mind spun—so there was this kind of backstory?!
Alright then, I won’t be polite—when I make money, I’ll take care of Uncle-in-law’s retirement!
She dabbed her eyes with her handkerchief, let out a few quiet sobs, and slowly—very, very slowly—reached for the pouch of silver, trying to appear reserved and reluctant.
Just as she was about to touch it, Qiao Cheng spoke again.
“Now that your aunt is gone, as your uncle-in-law, I’ll make the decision for you—you and Disheng will be “paired” as duishi. When you leave the palace, I’ll be about ready to retire too.”
“Later, we’ll check if there’s anyone from the Qiao or Wei families to adopt a child, and the three of us can live together as a family.”
Fang He’s hand instantly froze mid-air.
Pairing as duishi?
Then how was she supposed to enjoy life?!
Duishu?