For several consecutive days, Fang He had been jolted awake by nightmares.
In her dreams, sometimes she watched helplessly as Qiao Wen died a miserable death; other times, she was the one being dragged away, covering her mouth in fear, not daring to cry.
Even though she already understood the horrors of the Forbidden City, witnessing its cruelty firsthand still left her feeling weak and dispirited.
The young eunuch who was beaten to death earlier could at least be blamed for failing to take proper care of the Crown Prince, putting the heir in danger.
But Qiao Wen… Fang He knew she was more talk than action, but in the end, she was just a teenage girl.
All her little schemes were simply to improve her own life—she had never harmed anyone.
To be flogged with thirty strikes and thrown into the Office of Punishments—a place where even if one survived, they wouldn’t live long…
That beautiful face of hers was practically a death sentence in the deep palace.
And that was the root of Fang He’s nightmares.
Early in the morning, she sluggishly got up, washed up, and while no one was looking, she touched her own face, full of melancholy.
Who would believe it?
Some people looked like completely different persons with and without bangs.
She had realized it right after transmigrating—the appearance of this body closely resembled her past life, with even more refined bone structure in subtle areas.
The forehead, usually hidden by bangs, was full and had a delicate widow’s peak, though a few small pimples had emerged due to her oily skin.
Her eyebrows were dark as ink, just as thick as her lashes, yet untrimmed and messy.
Her nose was well-defined with a slight upturn.
After all, no one ugly was ever selected to enter the palace; at worst, they were merely plain, which is why she hadn’t caused much of a stir.
Most striking were her deer-like eyes—like a clear spring touched by the morning mist.
Whether she wanted to appear innocent or lively, those eyes alone could speak for her.
Her lips, however, were only small and delicate, without an upturned cupid’s bow, and their color was somewhat dull—likely due to poor nutrition.
At a glance, she appeared plain, at best delicate.
But if her entire face were revealed, her complexion a little fairer, her gaze flowing, her lips slightly parted—that mix of purity and allure was far more dangerous than Qiao Wen’s outright seductiveness!
Fang He could shamelessly admit that in her past life, she had been able to navigate the five-star hotel scene with just her looks alone.
Back when she worked as a service intern, some annoying person spread the fact that her childhood nickname was “Guoguo” (Little Fruit).
Then, when she became a manager and often put on a serious face, she somehow gained the nickname “Sweet Fruit Little Master Nun.”
During her school days, she had no time for socializing because of part-time jobs, so she had others sign attendance for her.
She relied on her face to ask her instructor and upperclassmen to introduce her to job opportunities—never once failing.
At work, she had never received a single bad review.
From a server, she was quickly promoted to manager, and she owed a lot of that to her face.
It wasn’t that her abilities didn’t matter, but it was true—very few people could meet her gaze for five seconds and still act ruthless toward her.
If she didn’t have a bad temper, wasn’t so lazy, and didn’t dislike the idea of catering to a sugar daddy, she could have easily lived a life of luxury with villas and sports cars.
People say innocence is nothing compared to sex appeal.
But when innocence turns into sex appeal, the impact is more than just doubled.
Now, she understood why Madam Xu had told her niece to hide her beauty.
With her original personality, even if she climbed up, she’d be eaten alive—down to the bone.
***
After washing up, Fang He habitually tidied up the small side room before sluggishly carrying a palace lantern toward the imperial tea room.
The more she thought, the more worried and lost she felt.
She was determined to survive until she could leave the palace, but she couldn’t just avoid risks altogether.
If she left the palace without money, life wouldn’t be easy.
To make money, she would inevitably attract attention.
She wasn’t naive—she always prepared for the worst-case scenario.
Sitting in front of the small clay stove, Fang He ignored Ru Yue, who was muttering bad things about Qiao Wen, torn between nervousness and schadenfreude.
Instead, she silently sifted the ashes she had collected from the previous night and carefully stored them in a nearby urn.
The palace maids used wood ash for their menstrual cloths, mostly sourced from the tea and dining rooms.
After cleaning the tea room, she crouched in front of the stove again, inwardly sighing.
“Sister, is Fang He here? We’ve got fresh red bean cakes just out of the pot, made with premium peeled Lingsha congee—please have a taste!”
Wei Disheng’s cheerful voice rang from the doorway as he handed over a plate of pastries, flashing a particularly flattering smile at Ru Yue.
“Vice Steward Qiao from the Office of Internal Affairs has a message for Fang He. Sister, could you keep an eye on things for a bit and let us talk?”
A small plate of snacks from the Qianqing Palace was worth seven or eight qian of silver, and even the imperial kitchen wouldn’t always bother to provide them.
Ru Yue, flattered by Wei Disheng’s obsequiousness, grinned and gestured toward the room.
“Fang He, someone’s looking for you!”
The weather was growing warmer, and Kangxi, pleased with his victories in Taiwan and his plans for governance, had gone horse-riding at the Southern Park.
Wei Disheng, unable to secure an audience at the imperial court, finally had time to find Fang He.
He pulled her to a discreet corner where they could see people approaching from either direction.
“Fang He-jie, I looked into what you asked. The palace maids do indeed ask eunuchs who can leave the palace to bring them things. Those without much money might just ask for a few hair ties.”
“Those with a little more silver ask for pig pancreas and coarse pearl powder, maybe some pig fat balm to maintain their skin.”
“The favored attendants of concubines and noble ladies, who lack nothing, melt down gold and silver jewelry for extra cash. They like to buy bird’s nest bits for soup and use suet cream, common pearls, poria, and angelica to grind into skincare powders.”
Wei Disheng was thorough.
Not wanting to leave things to verbal descriptions alone, he took out actual samples for her to see.
He handed her two small wooden boxes.
“Take these—pig pancreas and suet cream. Keep them safe so no one snatches them.”
“The rest, I’ll store at my godfather’s place. I’ll bring them to you when no one’s around.”
Fang He carefully examined the items Wei Disheng had brought.
The pig pancreas was black and had a slight odor.
She had seen this before at her grandmother’s house.
Her grandmother, a refined woman, disliked the smell, but she knew a way to make fragrant soap from it.
It wasn’t difficult—just a slight modification, and the pig pancreas would be much less conspicuous.
Initially, she had planned to make whitening pills and body fragrance pills—though slow-acting, they would certainly attract women in the palace, appealing to both young and old.
Since they were purely herbal extracts, they wouldn’t harm the body, and sales would be promising.
But after what happened to Qiao Wen, she felt scared.
Her enthusiasm had dimmed.
Wei Disheng, studying her expression, lowered his voice.
“Fang He-jie, is someone bullying you?”
Fang He forced herself to perk up.
“No one’s bullying me. I’m just worried about how to buy all the medicinal ingredients—and I need flowers, too.”
If she wanted to make scented soap, essential oils and floral extracts were indispensable.
She still had to do business, but she’d play it safe for now.
She would simply upgrade the products palace maids already used—people would naturally prefer better-quality items without questioning where they came from.
Wei Disheng chuckled softly.
“I have an old acquaintance in the Office of Internal Affairs. Back when he was castrated, he almost didn’t survive, but I saved him. He’s reliable and often gets to leave the palace.”
“I asked him about it. In the inner city, a small shop in a less busy area costs about a hundred taels of silver. Buying medicinal herbs and flowers from the countryside wouldn’t cost much either.”
“We can provide the formulas and let him run the shop. My godfather can use his connections in the Office of Internal Affairs to purchase our goods openly and bring them in through Xihua Gate.”
“This way, even though we’ll make half the money and have to bribe the guards at Xihua Gate, there will be no way to trace anything back to us.”
“I think, no matter what, we should focus on staying alive. Once we leave the palace, we can find more opportunities. With the connections we build here, we’ll have a good life ahead. What do you think, jie?”
Fang He was momentarily stunned.
It was as if the fog in her mind had been swept away.
That’s right—slow and steady wins the race.
Survival was the first priority.
Being poor and cautious was only temporary; there was no need to rush into risky money-making schemes.
Once she was out of the palace, she could do whatever she wanted.
Wei Disheng truly had the makings of the future Grand Steward of Qianqing Palace—his mind was even steadier than hers.
She had a tendency to get carried away when it came to money.
Otherwise, she wouldn’t have ended up being thrown into the Qing Dynasty in the first place.
She gave Wei Disheng a thumbs-up.
“Jie always knew our Disheng was capable. You’re way smarter than me—our little family wouldn’t survive without you!”