The twenty-third year of Kangxi, the thirteenth day of the second month.
The deep night shrouded the Forbidden City in darkness.
The third watch had just passed when faint rustling sounds emerged from the low eaves and side rooms outside the Qianqing Palace.
Kangxi rose at the fifth watch, which meant the palace attendants on duty had to wake up two hours earlier to prepare for his service.
In her sleep, Fang He felt a cool breeze sweep past the tip of her nose and the side of her neck, leaving a chilling sensation.
Then, she heard the creaking sound of a door opening and closing.
Half-asleep, she instinctively reached under her pillow for her phone.
Grasping only empty air, Fang He was instantly jolted awake.
Under the dim glow of an oil lamp, she saw the wooden beams above her head and felt a dull ache at the back of her head, momentarily dazed.
Oh, right—she had traveled through time.
Now, she was Fang He, a palace maid in the Qianqing Palace’s imperial tea room, recovering from a head injury after a fall.
She had been lying in a daze for several days, and everything still felt like a dream.
***
Seeing Fang He open her eyes, Qiao Wen, a palace maid on duty at the imperial tea room, leaned over with concern.
“Fang He, are you feeling better? If you still feel like vomiting, I can call for a medical apprentice when things aren’t too busy.”
Fang He lowered her gaze slowly, considering the personality of her original self, and responded concisely.
“No need to trouble you. I’m much better.”
The original owner of this body had only suffered a mild concussion, which would heal with time.
The medical apprentices from the Imperial Hospital weren’t very skilled but charged a hefty sum.
Most of the silver the original owner had saved was nearly spent—there was no need for unnecessary expenses.
“Alright then, I left some hot water by the charcoal stove.”
Qiao Wen straightened up, tied her braid with a red silk cord, adjusted her dark green straight-cut flag dress, and said cheerfully, “I’ll bring you some food later when I have time. Be careful not to touch your wound—I have to go on duty now!”
Qiao Wen and Fang He were both palace maids in the imperial tea room.
Having only arrived a year ago, Qiao Wen was often ostracized by others because of her good looks, and Fang He had silently helped her in those times.
Now that the original Fang He had been injured, Qiao Wen had been the one taking care of her.
Nearby, another palace maid, Ru Yue, who was also heading to her shift, curled her lips in disdain.
She picked up the hot water left by the charcoal stove and poured most of it out, using the remaining water to soak a towel for cleaning her bronze mirror and comb.
Seeing this, Qiao Wen frowned slightly and was about to speak.
Fang He propped herself up on her elbow and softly interrupted the impending conflict.
“I need to go to the Office of Internal Affairs later to report back from my sick leave. You should go to the dining hall yourself—don’t let this delay your duties.”
The imperial tea room was a small pond, but it had plenty of ambitious “turtles” eager to climb up.
If Qiao Wen was caught sneaking out again, it could stir up unnecessary trouble.
The original owner had always hated bothering others, and Fang He didn’t want to rely on Qiao Wen’s uncertain “when I have time.”
Qiao Wen still wanted to say something, but a palace maid lying inside the kang (heated brick bed) turned over impatiently with a big movement.
With a helpless smile, Qiao Wen held her tongue and followed Ru Yue out.
As soon as they stepped outside, Ru Yue sneered at Qiao Wen.
“Why do you bother with her?”
“That orphan can’t even get three words out when you hit her with a stick. Even her aunt, Xu Momo, is dead. No one’s left to look after her.
Who knows if she can even stay in the Qianqing Palace much longer?”
Ru Yue had been working in Qianqing Palace for three years and had already investigated Fang He’s background.
Fang He’s widowed mother had passed away when she was twelve, and she had no siblings.
With no family left to rely on, she was bound to starve—if not for her aunt, Xu Momo, who worked in Qianqing Palace.
Xu Momo’s “companion” was a vice steward named Qiao from the Office of Internal Affairs.
After Xu Momo’s death, Qiao vice steward arranged for Fang He to enter the palace through a minor selection process.
“The Office of Internal Affairs did Qiao vice steward a favor, and that’s how Fang He got lucky enough to be assigned to Qianqing Palace,” Ru Yue scoffed.
“But after nine years, she still hasn’t even earned a spot in the paired housing quarters. She’s still just a lowly palace maid. Useless—like rotten mud that can’t be sculpted into anything.”
Outside, Qiao Wen had lost the warmth she showed inside the earthen house.
She raised her clear, sharp brows and let out a cold sneer at Ru Yue.
“You just said it yourself—Qiao vice steward, for the sake of his reputation, won’t completely abandon her. If something happens, she’ll always have someone in the Office of Internal Affairs to back her up.”
Fang He had been allowed to rest and had even received medical care from the Imperial Hospital’s apprentices.
That was all thanks to Qiao vice steward.
Ordinary palace maids who got injured or sick would have long been sent to Anping Hall in the northwest corner of the palace—to wait for death.
A few words were an easy favor to give—why not take advantage of it?
Seeing Ru Yue still unconvinced, Qiao Wen, quick-witted as ever, laid it out plainly.
“I don’t care if you’ve taken someone’s silver, but you’d better think carefully. Once Fang He recovers, she’ll at least owe us a favor, and our workload will be lighter.”
“If you squeeze her out and they bring in someone more ambitious, are you planning to do the water-boiling duties yourself?”
Ru Yue froze for a moment, fidgeting with the embroidered pouch at her sleeve, feeling a bit uneasy.
That did make sense… but she had already accepted money from the steward in charge of laundry.
That steward’s niece, who was said to be quite beautiful, was trying to get placed in the Emperor’s service…
Annoyance flickered across Ru Yue’s face.
She blamed Fang He for getting herself injured but also felt an irrational urge to fall and hit her own head—perhaps that would help her figure out what to do.
***
In the side chamber, Fang He didn’t notice Ru Yue’s resentment.
People came and went, and even the warmth in her bedding had long dissipated.
She didn’t stay lying down and instead got up silently to tidy herself, preparing to go out and report back from her sick leave at daybreak.
Early spring meant the sky brightened late.
Saying she’d wait for dawn really meant waiting for the morning court session to end.
The Office of Internal Affairs was to the left of Qianqing Gate.
If she went too early, she might run into officials leaving the court session—bumping into the wrong noble or minister could cost her life.
Enduring the dull ache in her head, Fang He slowly got up, put on the cotton jacket Xu Momo had made for her last year, and layered it with a dark green flag dress.
Afraid of the cold, she even added a deep purple winter vest before stepping off the heated kang bed.
She moved slowly as she washed up, combed her hair, and tidied her bedding.
By the time she was done, she faintly heard the sound of whips cracking outside.
That meant the morning court session was about to start.
From the original owner’s memories, Fang He knew that the session would last about an hour.
Sitting around in the cold was miserable, and out of habit from her previous life, she found the messy side chamber unbearable.
So, she got up and used the still-warm wash water to clean the room.
Once the timing seemed right, Fang He stepped out, walking along the base of the Hongde Hall wall and passing through Yuehua Gate on her way to the Office of Internal Affairs.
If not for the original owner’s deep fear of her so-called uncle, Fang He would have reported back from sick leave on her second day here, rather than waiting.
This time of year, the capital was freezing.
The charcoal fire in the side chamber burned out after the second watch of the night, and the thin walls did little to keep the cold out—even her bedding barely retained warmth.
Wouldn’t it be much better to sit comfortably by the little clay stove in the imperial tea room?
Technically, as a palace maid of the tea room, she could just inform the supervising mama of her return, and they would report it to the Office of Internal Affairs at the end of the month.
But Xu Momo, her only backing, was gone.
Fang He wasn’t about to just sit and wait for trouble to come knocking.
The original owner had been in a panic after losing her aunt.
Feeling lost and hopeless, she had become absent-minded and ended up falling down the steps.
She had lost her will to live, only thinking of following her aunt to the grave—leaving her body and memories to Fang He instead.
Fang He had thought things through over the past few days.
If she fought as hard as she had in her past life, she might actually be able to carve out a decent future in the palace.
But at 22, she was already considered old in the palace.
If she stayed, she’d have to fight tooth and nail for survival every single day—and in the end, she’d still have to share the emperor with countless others.
That was something she just couldn’t accept.
And even if she could accept it, if she lost the palace power struggle, she might not even live long enough to regret it.
Not to mention, if she acted too differently from the original owner, someone might take notice and burn her at the stake.
She had been hit over the head with a liquor bottle and ended up here—her body in that world might already be ashes.
With only one life to live, she had to treasure it.
In her past life, Fang He had worked in the hotel industry—endless night shifts, overtime, staff meetings, and constant job competition were just part of the grind.
It was practically trading her life for money.
She had had enough of that.
She was exhausted.
And all the money she made?
In the end, it had just benefited others.
This time, she wanted a different life.
She was very satisfied with the original owner’s current situation—just three more years until she could leave the palace.
No one really noticed her, making her the perfect “lazy fish” candidate.
If she could lay low and coast until retirement, save up enough silver, then find an honest man to marry, have a child, and set up a small business—she could live a peaceful and comfortable life.
***
Fang He, happily envisioning her future, passed through Yuehua Gate and followed the left-side corridor until she spotted the sign for the Office of Internal Affairs.
Normally, this place was bustling with people coming and going, but today, the corridor ahead was eerily quiet.
Two fierce-looking eunuchs stood guard under the eaves, their expressions grim.
Fang He immediately realized—Kangxi must have gone to the Southern Study.
Usually, Kangxi handled political affairs in Hongde Hall, while the Southern Study was reserved for Hanlin Academy scholars who transcribed edicts and waited for the emperor’s summons.
According to the original owner’s memories, Kangxi would occasionally come to the Southern Study in rare moments of leisure to read poetry, paint, and discuss scholarly matters with his officials.
Fang He instinctively lifted her eyes, half-hidden behind her bangs, feeling a bit curious.
She had no interest in “sharing the cucumber,” but still—this was the legendary Kangxi, a figure glorified in countless novels and dramas!
Strangely, the original owner’s memories contained no recollection of Kangxi’s face—just glimpses of embroidered robe hems and impressively large shoe soles.
Sneaking a glance toward the Southern Study, all Fang He saw was the tightly shut hall doors.
Before the guards could notice her peeking, she quickly lowered her head and slipped into the Office of Internal Affairs.
As soon as she stepped inside, a sharp, feminine voice snapped at her—
“Hey! Which palace are you from? What are you here for? Don’t you have any manners?
Barging in without a word—are you asking for a beating?”
Fang He, mimicking the original owner’s timid demeanor, bowed cautiously.
“Forgive me, An Da. I am Fang He from the Imperial Tea Room, here to see Vice Steward Qiao to report back from sick leave.”
The eunuch at the desk to the left lazily lifted his eyelids and sized her up.
Recognizing her as Qiao Vice Steward’s distant niece, his previously harsh expression softened slightly.
“Next time, remember to greet the entrance properly. Qiao An Da is at the outer warehouse checking inventory. Stand over there and wait.”
Fang He still wasn’t used to all these rigid palace rules, but she knew better than to argue.
She quietly thanked him and obediently moved to stand in the corner.
She remained there for nearly half an hour.
Her heels were beginning to go numb when Qiao Cheng finally returned, accompanied by his adopted son.
Before the gatekeeper eunuch could announce her, Qiao Cheng’s sharp gaze had already spotted the thin figure standing straight with her head down.
He asked in a calm voice, “Feeling better?”
Fang He caught sight of her “cheap uncle” from the corner of her eye.
She turned slowly, bowed again, and kept her head even lower, making her voice as soft as a mosquito’s.
“Replying to Vice Steward Qiao, this servant has recovered and can resume duties starting tomorrow.”
Qiao Cheng lifted his gaze slightly, intending to examine her more closely.
A head injury was no small matter, after all.
But before he could get a good look, a sudden rush of hurried footsteps echoed from outside, passing swiftly beneath the corridor.
Both Qiao Cheng’s adopted son and the gatekeeper eunuch instinctively craned their necks toward the sound, hissing quietly in reaction.
A tense feeling crept into Qiao Cheng’s heart.
Without further words, he cut the conversation short.
“Alright, I understand. Do your duties well. If there’s nothing else, go back to your quarters—don’t wander around outside.”
Fang He had been planning to stop by the kitchen for breakfast, but the urgency in those footsteps, along with the strange reactions of the two eunuchs, made her reconsider.
Her mind worked quickly, and she let out a quiet “oh” in response, lowering her head as she tiptoed out.
The moment she stepped outside, she abandoned her plan to go to the palace dining hall and instead bolted toward Yuehua Gate as fast as possible.
She hadn’t even reached the gate when—
BANG!
A loud crash erupted from behind the wall, followed by the unmistakable sound of something shattering into pieces.
Fang He’s heart skipped a beat.
She instinctively turned her head slightly, catching a glimpse of a young eunuch being dragged out by the arms.
His face was smeared with blood and tears, and he was desperately covering his mouth, his entire body radiating sheer despair.
A shiver shot through her, a deep, bone-chilling fear that made her suddenly feel the reality of her situation.
She had really, truly, traveled through time.
What a wried way to write it’s so confusing u have to make a mental maths with all the information into parts to understand this shit I don’t hate time for that.