Chapter 107 (1/2): Savoring Scripts and Spicy Snacks

Fang He held her breath, her eyes glazing over for a moment.  

Not because of the deeper meaning in Concubine Jing’s words, but because of the fleeting charm in her tone as she spoke.  

Even though Concubine Jing’s appearance now could only be described as plain, and her voice wasn’t exactly gentle, the alluring aura radiating from her soul made Fang He feel like half her body was melting under that teasing smile and touch.  

Fang He hurriedly stuffed a few pieces of snack into her mouth to calm herself.  

Good heavens, she felt like maybe she wasn’t as straight-laced as she thought.  

She widened her eyes and asked, “Elegant Lady, do you mean you want me to emulate your former lord?”  

That statement practically laid bare the identity of both of them.  

Concubine Jing smiled ambiguously, “I’ve read the scripts you all use — they praise women as half the sky and say strength, regardless of gender, is what counts. Why are you so surprised by what I said?”  

Fang He’s eyes grew even rounder.

What did she mean, “you’ve read our scripts”?

Isn’t she Shangguan Zhaorong herself?  

She had been wondering about this for a long time.  

Since she transmigrated, her mentality had somewhat stood on the shoulders of giants, but she still acted cautiously.  

The things she brought into this world were all things already present in this era; she hadn’t shown much that was different.  

How could Concubine Jing be certain she was from another world?  

Concubine Jing seemed to know what Fang He was thinking.

Leaning against the low table, she gave Fang He a coquettish wink.  

“This person died so unwillingly; even as a ghost, she has to have something to do, right?”  

“Heaven has pity — it gave me more encounters than other ghosts, sending me some scripts to pass the time. I realized this world has other ways to live. It’s not strange at all to accidentally slip into a script, is it?”  

Fang He:  “……”

What nonsense.  

That wasn’t strange?

Then what was?  

Realizing she had become a character in a script didn’t bring Fang He absurdity or confusion; instead, her bright doe-like eyes sparkled with excitement.  

She leaned forward, resting her belly against the low table, rubbing her hands together as she chuckled.  

“I’m the protagonist? Oh my, I’m so outstanding, I’m a little embarrassed.”  

Concubine Jing: “You don’t look like it.”  

Fang He asked again, “How many children did I have? Who did Jiujiu marry? Is she living well? Does she have children calling me Empress Dowager… ahem, you know.”  

Concubine Jing was amused and kept pressing her lips to suppress her laughter.  

Indeed, souls from the future were much bolder than her, a soul who had nearly been shattered by the script world she once inhabited.  

After entering this drowned body, Concubine Jing had hoped to manipulate the plot with her foresight, to become Kangxi’s favorite before Fang He, thus becoming the ruler of the Qing Dynasty.  

After all, there were precedents.  

Shangguan Wan’er had once toyed with the entire Zhou Dynasty in the palm of her hand; ruthless, decisive, and never disappointing Emperor Wu.  

She transmigrated seven years ago, a year earlier than Fang He, and immediately tried to arrange for someone to kill Fang He while she was still hiding in the Imperial Kitchen, taking over her position.  

But she only managed to utter one word before she was overwhelmed with headaches and fainted.  

Concubine Jing had tried many times afterward to use her foresight to influence matters unrelated to the protagonist, like saving Fahai, covertly encouraging Tongjia Wanying’s overconfidence, and even befriending Yinzhen to reach the protagonist indirectly.  

But she couldn’t reveal her foresight to others or harbor ill intentions toward the protagonist, or she would immediately be punished and rejected by the Mandate of Heaven.  

Concubine Jing didn’t want to return to endless emptiness as a ghost; she craved the flavors of this world.  

Since she couldn’t oppose the protagonist, being her pawn didn’t stop her from roaming freely.

She could even regard her enemies as lords and serve others if she wished.  

She smiled mysteriously and shook her head, “Buddha says, some things are unspeakable.”  

Fang He’s eyes dimmed instantly, and she lazily flopped back down.  

“Forget it then. I don’t have such grand ambitions, nor the ability to grant you a title. If I could, wouldn’t I have a favorite already? Would Concubine Jing have the upper hand?”  

Fang He had read many novels and even heard her family’s elder brother fantasize about changing the world if he transmigrated.

She admired those who dared to dream and fight.  

But she truly had no such ambitions.  

She had never been the smartest or a leader that people rallied behind.

Sometimes she was impulsive when emotional and couldn’t bear the burden of a nation.  

Her goals in both lifetimes were simple: have a small family, earn a little money, lie flat and enjoy eating, drinking, and raising children.  

She was selfish.

She could contribute to the world within her capacity, but fighting for it was out of the question.  

Concubine Jing probably sensed Fang He’s carefree nature and added a few more tempting words.  

“You don’t need to worry. I will clear all obstacles for you, and handle state affairs. You know my abilities. Don’t you want Jiujiu to have a chance to sit high in the court?”  

Fang He pouted, “Forget it. If Shangguan Wan’er hadn’t been so power-hungry, she wouldn’t have lost her life. If she had the chance again, who knows what might happen. Whatever happens, the people suffer.”  

Fang He said faintly, “Whatever Jiujiu or the one in my belly wants, they can fight for it themselves. I’ll only provide the best stage within my ability. I won’t sacrifice myself for their lives.”  

No matter how much she loved her children unconditionally, she loved herself the most, and that would never change.  

Concubine Jing looked at Fang He steadily for a long moment, then smiled and nodded.  

“It really is you. But if His Majesty no longer favors the other consorts, sooner or later you’ll have to face the draft and the palace’s grievances. If I can help you solve this worry, will you grant me the title of County Princess and freedom to marry?”  

‘Huh?’ Fang He’s eyes flickered.

She believed Concubine Jing had the ability.  

The method she had in mind was still uncertain and depended on whether Kangxi could accept it.  

If Concubine Jing could do it too, there was no need to put all her eggs in one basket.  

She sat up and was about to ask more when she heard Xinhua and the others’ voices outside.  

“Please, Your Majesty, peace!”  

Fang He and Concubine Jing paused, hurriedly standing to greet as they stepped out a few paces.  

It had started snowing outside.

When Kangxi entered, he stomped his feet to shake off the cold before stepping inside.  

Fang He and Concubine Jing stood and crouched respectively, paying their respects to Kangxi.  

Kangxi, surprised to see Concubine Jing there, asked, “Why has Concubine Jing come over?”  

Concubine Jing lowered her gaze and replied obediently, “Your Majesty, I came to keep the Noble Mistress company and ease her boredom. I was about to return to Chengqian Palace.”  

“Mm, go ahead.”  

Kangxi wiped the crumbs from Fang He’s lips.  

Concubine Jing glanced at Fang He, gave a knowing eyebrow raise, and exited swiftly.  

Kangxi took Fang He’s arm and walked inside, “It’s almost lunchtime, and you’ve eaten so much. Will you still have an appetite for lunch?”  

Fang He grinned, “I’m eating for two, what do you think?”  

This rascal wiped her mouth, not at all charming like Concubine Jing had been moments ago.  

She felt a bit regretful; if only Concubine Jing had one more charm, swapping Kangxi for her would be tempting.  

Kangxi stroked her belly and carefully admonished, “I was reading the Book of Essential Obstetrics. It says pregnant women shouldn’t eat too much, or the fetus will have difficulty settling into the pelvis, and shouldn’t eat too much of foods that cause internal heat…”   

Listening to Kangxi drone on endlessly, Fang He puffed her cheeks.  

She had just managed to stop Fule’s nagging, and now here came the steward, all with good intentions.

She couldn’t argue.  

Hearing this, Fang He started getting sleepy.

She hugged Kangxi’s waist and leaned on his leg, humming softly.  

“I don’t want to, but this one in my belly is even greedier than Jiujiu. If I don’t eat, it cries inside. From now on, I’ll eat less but more often.”  

Kangxi smiled knowingly, aware she didn’t like hearing this, and changed the topic.  

“When did you become so close with Concubine Jing?”  

“You don’t like the Tongjia family girls?”  

Fang He tilted her head to look up at him, “Since the Emperor likes beautiful women who can talk and cheer others up, naturally, I like them too.”  

Kangxi: “….”

That scoundrel, who doesn’t know how to flatter?

He pinched Fang He’s cheeks with a teasing half-smile.  

“If you think beautiful women are good, have Concubine Jing keep you company more often, and I won’t have to send you that dog meat and those Golden Grains anymore.”  

“Hmm?”  

“Can they be brought in now? It’s almost the New Year, we should eat some fresh things! I want, I want, I want!”  

Fang He hurriedly helped him sit up, excitement on her face.  

Kangxi ignored the words and tapped the low table, “This one can’t even speak, can’t even drink fresh tea?”  

Fang He quickly called for Xinhua, “Hurry and change the Emperor’s tea. I remember there was a fresh shipment of Chinese green tea.”  

“From now on, be more thoughtful. Don’t keep His Majesty waiting. I’m going to be a little dumb during pregnancy, pitying the Emperor but powerless. You can’t be dumb too.”  

Xinhua: “…..”  

“…Yes, Aunt Cui will bring it over right away.”  

Wasn’t it the Mistress’s order for the Emperor to drink the same dew as her?  

Kangxi was amused by Fang He’s teasing, not caring much about the tea but enjoying hearing the little fox say sweet things.  

He sipped the newly brewed Jin Yinhua Dew.

When at Yanxi Palace, he usually went along with Fang He’s tastes.  

“The ingredients have already been sent to the Imperial Medical Institute. Tomorrow, Wei Zhu will deliver them to you.”  

Fang He was anxious, wishing she could immediately send Gu Wenxing to the Institute.  

But without thorough checks, neither she nor Kangxi trusted anything coming from outside.

What if something was added?  

***

At the end of the year, Kangxi was busy, and military expeditions delayed many matters.

After lunch with Fang He, he didn’t rest but returned to Qianqing Palace.  

Fang He didn’t bother with a nap either and went straight to the study in the side hall to start working on the recipes.  

Golden Bean had long been cultivated in southern regions; by the previous dynasty’s name, it was called potato.

The Imperial Manor had quite a lot, and ten baskets were sent all at once.  

Golden Sweet Potato, known as “Sweet Potato” by southern people, was noted by the Imperial Physician in Li Shizhen’s medical notes as causing heartburn if eaten excessively, so only three baskets were sent.  

Golden Rice had been reserved for the royal family in the previous dynasty and also called Imperial Corn.

Later it spread to the common folk as Corn.  

Medical records said it was good for babies, pregnant women, and the elderly.

Twenty baskets were sent at once.  

Kangxi ordered half to be sent to Shoukang Palace, and the rest to Yanxi Palace; none was left in Qianqing Palace.  

After Fang He took over palace affairs, she had Gu Wenxing find a eunuch skilled in making white flour products to work with Xinnan on small snacks.

The main dishes still came from the Household Kitchen or Imperial Kitchen.  

Knowing Golden Grains were coming, Fang He had Gu Wenxing summon a chef skilled in making red flour products to join and set up two more stoves.  

Once the potatoes arrived, she immediately had one basket peeled, sliced, and mashed into raw potato paste to make wet starch, set aside to settle.  

God knows how long she had craved spicy and sour potato noodles, but impatience wouldn’t help.

Dry potato noodles took longer to prepare and wouldn’t be ready anytime soon.  

She kept the two chefs busy, having the white flour eunuch steam a batch of potatoes to prepare mashed potatoes.  

Below the stove, charcoal was lit, and sweet potatoes were slowly roasted on skewers.