Cui Wei looked puzzled, but Fang He didn’t rush to explain.
Instead, she smiled and urged her on.
“First, get the palace servants settled. You’ll find out later.”
Cui Wei gave Fang He a long, silent look, somewhat regretting serving a mistress who loved to keep her in suspense-it really made her want to rebel at every turn.
What was there even to arrange with just a few servants?
Cui Wei rolled her eyes as she stepped out the door, standing on the veranda with a stern expression that made the already uneasy servants shrink back in fear.
Only Shanya, who usually seemed timid, now stared straight at her with an intensity that was even more unsettling than Cui Wei’s glare.
“I won’t waste words. Our mistress is kind-hearted. As long as you do your duties well, she’ll ensure you’re well-fed and won’t resort to beatings or scoldings.”
“But let me be clear, our mistress tolerates no betrayal. If any of you dare to deceive her, there’ll be no chance to beg for mercy.” Cui Wei flashed a faint, eager smile.
“In the Qianqing Palace, I’ve yet to send anyone to the Punishment Bureau. Feel free to test me.”
“And if you ever make it out of there, I’ll do you one last favor-I’ll personally pay to send you home, whether to Anping Hall or the pauper’s cemetery.”
The servants:”…..”
Their homes weren’t in the underworld!
Cui Wei’s warning, though not delivered with overt harshness, made the first batch of selected servants and young eunuchs even more cautious.
First, those chosen by Qiao Cheng and Matron Qin weren’t the troublemaking type.
Second, Fang He’s attitude toward Deputy Attendant Huang made it clear their mistress wasn’t afraid of stirring up trouble.
After all, Deputy Attendant Huang, favored by the Chengqian Palace, had even stood tall before the high-ranking officials of the Imperial Household Department…
If they really made a mistake, Cui Wei’s words were no empty threat.
As for the later arrivals, they had even less to rely on.
Having no backing, they had been demoted to menial tasks in the Imperial Household Department after making mistakes or taking the fall for others they wouldn’t dare cause trouble.
“Alright, stand here for an hour, then go settle in the back rooms. Be quick about it.”
“Wash off the grime, change into the palace attire sent by the Imperial Household Department, tidy yourselves up, and report to the mistress one by one.”
Having cowed the servants and eunuchs, Cui Wei gave Shanya another discreet glance before leaving.
After Fang He finished the dinner delivered by Li Dequan, Cui Wei had the servants and eunuchs enter one by one to kowtow.
The four young eunuchs, though called “young,” were only two or three years younger than Wei Zhu, all seasoned palace veterans with changed names: Liu Xi, Chen Shun, Zhang Ji, and Cui Fuquan.
The menial eunuchs looked barely over ten, named Liu Zhuzi and Zhou Xiaoli, both pleading for Fang He to rename them as they kowtowed.
Fang He: “How about Liu An and Zhou Le?”
Her naming skills were limited to auspicious words like “peace” and “joy.”
Liu An and Zhou Le thanked their mistress ecstatically for the bestowed names.
Having a name given by the mistress was a mark of favor-once remembered even slightly, they wouldn’t be so easily dismissed.
The four second-rank maids, likely having caught wind of this, also begged for new names when they kowtowed.
In that short time, Fang He had already decided-even if she became a consort, her dream of being a carefree slacker hadn’t changed.
So…
“You’re all from the Xin generation, starting with the characters for ‘day’ and ‘jin’. You’ll be called Xinke,” announced the first girl selected by Head Matron Qin—a round-faced maid of just fifteen.
To follow Xin was to follow one’s heart, for in these palace walls, following one’s desires was the highest pursuit.
“You’ll be Xinnan,” said to the second maid, her freckled face darkened by years of outdoor labor.
“You’ll be Xinhua,” named the third, who’d been demoted to laundry duty after failing to understand Mongolian in Xianfu Palace, her hands severely frostbitten.
“You’ll be Xinzi,” came the fourth, formerly of the Imperial Gardens, now exiled to remote chores after causing Consort Rong to sprain her ankle her frostbitten hands equally ravaged.
Crunching pumpkin seeds?
Cui Wei nearly laughed aloud—a shared indulgence with Fang He, and what auspicious-sounding names these were.
Before the laborers entered, Fang He instructed Chunlai:
“Fetch frostbite ointment from the Imperial Hospital. Their condition pains my eyes to see.”
Chunlai departed promptly as Cui Wei stationed Wei Zhu at the door, barring the newcomers from approaching.
The last laborer was renamed Fuyuan, awaiting Fang He’s promotion to merit third-rank maidservant status.
Shanya entered last.
Her proper kowtow to Fang He was immediately undone by her first words: “Aunt Cui is ill.”
“Seeking death? I’ll oblige whether sick or not!” Cui Wei’s nostrils flared, especially when Fang He muffled giggles beside her.
Unfazed, Shanya turned to Fang He: “The mistress is ill too.”
Fang He’s smile vanished.
As Cui Wei advanced wrathfully, Fang He intervened: “Explain Aunt Cui’s… condition first.”
Shanya solemnly diagnosed: “Darkened brow indicates yang deficiency. Dry skin suggests abdominal heat. Seasonal chest pains imply acquired heart disease.”
Fang He gasped-heart disease?
Her seemingly indestructible head maid?
Cui Wei shrugged: “Remember how I entered palace service? My father’s kick. My maternal kin avenged me.”
She omitted details-how she’d nearly become some Shanxi magistrate’s child bride, saved only by her late mother’s loyal servant.
Intrigued despite herself, Cui Wei demanded: “And the mistress?”
Shanya hesitated: “Dual deficiency of qi and blood. Pale complexion despite braziers suggests cold extremities, potentially affecting fertility. Further diagnosis requires pulse-reading.”
“But…” Cui Wei frowned, “the mistress was fully recovered before entering the palace…”
Cui Wei had already shared many secrets she knew with Fang He, and both were sincere-Fang He hadn’t hidden her affairs outside the palace from Cui Wei either.
Shanya was full of resentment, her voice rising slightly as she even jutted her chin out, revealing the scar beneath it.
“The Liang family excelled in medicine but even more so in poison. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have been hunted down, forced to flee north, and ended up as slaves with their family destroyed.”
“My Su family was skilled in health preservation since the previous dynasty, which was why we were recruited by the Han Army Banner. Now, we even have the qualifications to enter the palace!”
Shanya’s father was of the Li Jia clan.
When she entered the palace through the minor selection, she was registered as a legitimate daughter, though her birth mother was actually Han Chinese-descended from the Su family, one of the three great physicians of Henan in the previous dynasty.
From a young age, she had shown a talent for medicine and a photographic memory, personally taught by her maternal grandfather.
At the same time, her father had placed high hopes on her, wanting her to enter the palace and win the favor of the imperial family through her medical skills, thereby aiding his own rise to power.
But before she left home, her mother had been deeply worried, saying the imperial harem was a place that devoured people—not somewhere her straightforward daughter could survive.
She urged Shanya to return and seek her father’s opinion.
Her grandfather, knowing his days were numbered, instructed Shanya to memorize all the family’s medical texts and then burn them.
Aware he could no longer protect her and her mother, he told her to disfigure herself to survive and never reveal her medical skills, lest she be exploited.
Originally, her mother had planned for her to leave the palace at twenty-five and marry into an ordinary family, or at worst, make a living as a midwife.
But before the Banjin Festival, her mother suddenly sent word that she was gravely ill and nearing death.
With no place left for Shanya at home and no suitable marriage prospects, leaving the palace would mean certain death.
Fortunately, Madam Liang, an old family friend, found her mother and offered Shanya a way out.
Her mother then instructed her to find a way to serve by Fang He’s side.
Cui Wei listened quietly as Shanya whispered her background, clicking her tongue in astonishment.
Truly, there were far too many wicked stepfathers in this world.
Fang He frowned slightly as she listened.
She wasn’t surprised about her own health-her weak constitution wasn’t something easily restored.
Madam Liang had prescribed her medicine, but recovery would take time.
She didn’t press Cui Wei about her scars, only asking Shanya, “Do you have a way to treat Cui Wei’s heart condition?”
Shanya stuck to her stance, though her voice grew quieter.
“Both you and Cui Wei need treatment. I… I have a way, but the ingredients will be expensive…”
Fang He and Cui Wei both sighed in relief.
Expensive wasn’t a problem-the storeroom already held plenty of rare medicinal ingredients.
If those weren’t enough, Fang He could always squeeze more out of Kangxi later.
Surely one reward wouldn’t mean she had to work for him for free her whole life?
Fang He asked Shanya and learned she also wanted to change her name.
She named her Fule, instructing her to focus on caring for Cui Wei and her own health.
As for other tasks, Cui Wei would arrange things so no one would notice anything unusual.
With ample manpower and everyone eager to prove their loyalty to their new mistress, the main hall was tidied up in just a few days.
Under Fang He’s haphazard directions, Cui Wei and Chunlai grumbled and bickered but still managed to arrange her chambers into a surprisingly cozy space.
Yet before Fang He could even enjoy a comfortable nap in her own bed, Li Dequan arrived and not at mealtime.
The moment he entered, Li Dequan beamed brightly.
“Congratulations, Consort Zhao! His Majesty summons you to attend him tonight and invites you to dine with him.”
Fang He thought to herself, Who knows if it’ll be arguing… or something else.
What’s there to celebrate?
Before heading to the Qianqing Palace, she specifically instructed Wei Zhu to fetch a plate of pastries from the imperial kitchen.
After eating her fill halfway, she finally rose at Qi Sanfu’s urging and made her way to the Qianqing Palace.
When she and Chunlai stepped out of the Tousuo Hall, the sky hadn’t yet darkened.
But the moment Fang He crossed the threshold, snow began to fall-large flakes swirling down, landing on the tip of her nose, the chill seeping straight into her heart.
It felt as bleak as attending her own funeral…
Qi Sanfu eagerly attended to her side, “Your Ladyship, please board the palanquin. His Majesty, knowing your dislike for using others’ palanquins, specially ordered the workshops to rush one just for you.”
Oh ho!
Since when had Kangxi ever been this considerate?
Was this what they called the calm before the storm?
Fang He tightened her cloak, her expression as solemn as the winds howling over the icy Yi River…
She clutched the pastries hidden in her pouch, afraid that her half-full stomach wouldn’t be enough to keep her mind sharp.
By the time the palanquin landed, she had devoured them all.
Hurriedly wiping the crumbs from her lips, she leaned on Chunlai and shuffled with small, deliberate steps into the Zhaoren Hall.
“Your humble concubine pays respects to His Majesty, wishing him eternal peace…”
Hearing the commotion, Kangxi rose from the couch and personally helped Fang He up.
Just as he was about to say something tender, his gaze caught the pastry crumbs still clinging to the corner of her lips.
He paused.
Using his thumb, he wiped them away, then tapped her nose with an amused smirk.
“Just how afraid are you that I won’t feed you?”
Fang He flashed Kangxi a coquettish smile-bright as could be, especially when she thought of the silver in the treasury-and with an air of innocent shyness, she playfully bumped into his chest.
“Your humble concubine merely feared keeping Your Majesty waiting too long, so I thought to have a little snack before dinner-“
Liang Jiugong: “…”
He truly despised having ears that understood.
With a quick wave, he dismissed himself and the other attendants without waiting for Kangxi’s order, retreating to stand guard outside the hall with Chunlai.
If His Majesty wasn’t tempted into having a ‘snack’ first, they could return to serve the meal properly.
Kangxi wasn’t the least bit surprised by Fang He’s enthusiasm.
This little rascal always knew how to play her cards right after getting what she wanted.
He merely steadied her shoulders and pushed her back slightly, unwilling to let her stir him up and lead him by the nose.
If she started whining about hunger later, would he even be able to stop?
Leading her to the table, he asked gently, “Do you still have room to eat?”
Fang He’s heart trembled.
Ahhh, had this bastard taken the wrong medicine or been possessed?
Her guard shot up even higher, and she answered with extreme caution, “Whether I can or can’t eat more… Your Majesty, what do you think?”
Kangxi chuckled softly.
Instead of summoning Liang Jiugong or Chunlai, he sent them out to keep watch and personally served Fang He a helping of her favorite dish-chicken stir-fried with shrimp.
“Eat.”
“I think you’d better have some. Otherwise, you’ll pester me again in the middle of the night.”
Fang He couldn’t fathom what game he was playing, but since she couldn’t figure it out, she decided not to overthink it.
With a sweet, carefree thanks, she lowered her head and dug in.
As everyone knew, women had a separate stomach for snacks, another for meals, and after some idle chatter, even space for milk tea could be freed up.
Eating was no issue at all.
Eight dishes.
Huh??
It was clear the imperial kitchen had put in extra effort today.
Just the main courses alone included emerald shaomai, fried spring rolls, lychee pork, longan steamed buns, and more, totaling…
The feast even included Buddha Jumps Over the Wall, braised shark fin with yellow sauce, dried vegetable duck, cherry pork, chicken with shrimp… truly a complete spread of poultry, meat, and fish.
Among the cold dishes, she even spotted winter melon bowls and crispy yam mountains-rare delicacies for winter in the capital.
It seemed they were worried the heated palace floors might make the diners sweat.
This time, Kangxi had made up for the celebration of her promotion to concubine, ensuring she wasn’t left to dine alone at a small table.
Every dish was hers to enjoy as she pleased.
Fang He remained on guard, though she couldn’t help regretting having eaten too many snacks earlier.
Her eyes were still hungry, but her stomach was already stuffed.
Kangxi watched as she ate slower and slower, her little face scrunching up like a steamed bun, and couldn’t help but chuckle.
“If you can’t eat anymore, don’t force yourself. There will be plenty of chances later.”
He called out to Liang Jiugong, “Bring your mistress a cup of digestion tea.”
Liang Jiugong hurried to comply.
The gentler Kangxi acted, the more uneasy Fang He felt.
Clutching the digestion tea, she retreated to the soft couch to sit.
She was truly stuffed to the brim-if she had to do any physical exertion now, she was genuinely afraid she might vomit.
After standing up to the emperor once and then demanding so many favors… if she ended up throwing up, she felt like losing her head wouldn’t even be enough to make up for it.
Kangxi didn’t stop her.
He finished his meal leisurely, then-under Fang He’s wary gaze-sat beside her, his smile as tender as water.
Fang He nearly jumped out of her skin.
Without a word, Kangxi took her hand and pulled her into his arms, letting her stand before him as she studied his face.
“Behave. I just want to talk to you properly.”
Fang He ventured cautiously, “Y-Your Majesty… you’re not angry with this concubine anymore?”
A flicker of amusement passed through Kangxi’s eyes.