Chapter 9

Page 1/3

Song Fuwen showed no trace of guilt. His sharp black-and-white eyes glared fiercely, his brows tightly knit, lips curled in disdain, exuding arrogance as he shouted at Li Shuyao, “Did I tell you to move?”

Startled, Li Shuyao took several steps back, all curiosity evaporating instantly. Her heart pounded with unease, a sense that her good days were drawing to a close and that great misfortune was about to befall her.

As expected, her fears were well-founded.

In the following days, “Song the Calamity” completely ignored her presence. Every day on duty, it was as if Li Shuyao did not exist. There was no communication for several days. Only when Liang Jiugong came by did Song Fuwen show a bit of friendliness toward Li Shuyao, forcing a smile through gritted teeth, though his eyes remained cold, as if constantly casting icy daggers at her.

Li Shuyao was left speechless.

She tried to resist—on the first day, she had specially brought Song Fuwen a few delicately shaped pastries, only to have him slap them away without a hint of courtesy, scattering crumbs across the floor.

That afternoon, when she went to tend the tea stove, Song Fuwen grabbed her collar and shoved her aside.

At the end of the shift, she politely wished him “Good night, sweet dreams,” but Song Fuwen ignored her, his face cold as he turned and walked away.

The next day, Li Shuyao took the tea ledger from the tea room and offered to help tally the remaining tea leaves. Song Fuwen mocked her handwriting as resembling wriggling earthworms.

She turned to wash the tea utensils, but before she could reach out, Song Fuwen clutched the teaware protectively in his arms, not allowing her to touch it.

Thus, caught between humiliation and endurance, Li Shuyao chose the latter—the humiliating endurance—and ended up sitting out five days on the cold bench, feeling wronged and miserable.

During this time, Liang Jiugong came twice: once to personally deliver tea to the emperor and asked casually about Li Shuyao’s performance in the tea room. Song Fuwen replied, “Acceptable.”

The second time, he repeated the question. Song Fuwen thought for a moment, forced a smile, and praised Li Shuyao’s “exceptional comprehension.”

Li Shuyao blinked, listening nearby.

Exceptional comprehension?

Her?

In that instant, she felt as if a sudden clarity dawned upon her.

That night, back in her room, she sat at the table, staring into the flickering candlelight, pondering deeply until she finally reached a profound realization—

Why was she so stubborn to compete with Song Fuwen for tasks?

What benefit would winning bring?

None at all.

And if she lost?

Losing would suit her perfectly.

She could then “reluctantly” and “inevitably” justify becoming a carefree, dreamless happy-go-lucky.

Moreover, in the Forbidden City, the rule was always “the more you work, the more mistakes you make,” and “not working” was also unacceptable. The ideal was to “work less” or have others work for you!

Yes, that was it!

Clenching her small fists, Li Shuyao solemnly set her strategy.

The next day, after arriving at the tea room, she lazily plopped down onto a small stool in the corner, curled her legs, hugged her knees, rested her chin on her arms, and stared blankly with dull eyes.

Page 2/3

Song Fuwen mistook her for being cowed by him and felt smug, twisting his waist even more vigorously as he worked.

He first tidied the tea table, then wiped the multi-tiered shelf behind him.

After taking down the tea the emperor would drink that day from the shelf, he sashayed past Li Shuyao with a swaying waist, went outside to fetch a small bucket of spring water, and leisurely began boiling water and brewing tea.

When the emperor finished the morning court session, Song Fuwen promptly took the brewed hot tea to the outer chamber, handed it to a young eunuch to test for poison and keep a sample, then bowed and passed it to Liang Jiugong, watching him deliver the tea to the Imperial Study before turning back to the tea room.

Passing in front of Li Shuyao, he snorted softly through his nose.

Li Shuyao didn’t hear it, only feeling something drift past her eyes. She blinked, changed posture, and continued daydreaming.

That entire morning, Song Fuwen brewed seven pots of water and delivered five cups of tea to the Imperial Study.

After zoning out for half an hour with nothing to do, Li Shuyao straightened up, leaned her back against the wall, crossed one leg over the other, shook it, then boredly observed Song Fuwen.

She soon noticed his methodical tea brewing: waiting for the water in the kettle to boil twice before lifting it from the stove; with a flick of the wrist, pouring steaming hot water from low to high into the teacup.

First, warming the tea cup with hot water, then using a tea scoop to measure two spoonfuls of tea leaves, delicately shaking the wrist to sprinkle the leaves into the cup, followed by more hot water poured from above.

The first brew was discarded; the second brew was steeped for seven seconds before being poured out.

When adding water for the third brew, the cup was filled almost to the brim, then covered with a tea lid circling the rim; after discarding a little tea, the cup was gently shaken, leaving about eighty percent full.

Finally, the outside of the cup was wiped clean, placed on a carved beast-patterned rosewood tray, and hurriedly delivered to the chamber outside the Imperial Study.

Watching Song Fuwen’s entire routine quietly, Li Shuyao grew even more resolved to live as a carefree “salted fish” quail.

...She definitely did not want to brew tea!

She had clearly seen that from the moment he warmed the utensils, Song Fuwen never used the tea tongs on the table. Nearly every step was done by hand, even when the hot water reddened his fingertips, he never hesitated.

He worked like a cold, unfeeling tea-brewing machine.

Li Shuyao winced inwardly, feeling a pang of sympathy for him.

In the end, she sincerely thanked Song Fuwen for “excluding” her. After all, she really did not want the “honor” of brewing tea for the emperor!

...

Li Shuyao’s early days of employment were marked by some neglect and grievance, but afterward, everything smoothed out, bringing ease and happiness.

After another seven or eight days, the day to receive wages finally arrived.

All palace servants in the Qianqing Palace received their wages through Liang Jiugong. He first sent someone to the Imperial Household Department to collect all the silver, then, based on each person’s performance for the month, made the appropriate rewards and deductions. He then handed the silver and the payroll book to the four palace matrons of Qianqing Palace, who were responsible for distributing the wages.

—This information was all told to her personally by Matron Lin.

No surprise, since Li Shuyao had made no friends in Qianqing Palace.

Only then did she realize Song Fuwen’s seemingly high status among the palace maids...

So, Song Fuwen disliked her and openly and covertly made things difficult, constantly excluding and ignoring her. Naturally, no one had the leisure to befriend her.

Li Shuyao still tried, thinking if the mountain doesn’t come to me, then I’ll climb it myself.

She spent five taels of silver to order four plates of pastries from the Imperial Kitchen, packed them heavily in a food box, and on her way back to her residence in Qianqing Palace, she came across several off-duty palace maids laughing and chatting in the courtyard.

Gathering courage, Li Shuyao walked toward them as their laughter grew nearer.

Page 3/3

She overheard them saying:

“The day before yesterday, the emperor summoned that attendant again. Guess what? Before even burning an incense stick at the East Warm Pavilion, the emperor was taken away by someone sent by Consort Tong.”

“Hahaha, really?”

“Of course, I was working at East Warm Pavilion; do you think I’d lie?”

“My take is, even if she’s an official’s daughter, so what? She’s not a proper consort in the harem—not even a concubine. No idea what airs she’s putting on...”

Li Shuyao’s ears caught several key words swiftly: the day before yesterday, attendant, Consort Tong, official’s daughter.

That must be Qing Yao.

Clutching the food box tightly, Li Shuyao said nothing.

After listening to a few more remarks confirming they were talking about Qing Yao, she bit her lip, expression blank, turned and left, as if making a firm decision.

Back in her room, she tossed the food box onto the table carelessly, her delicate face stern. She puffed out her cheeks, growing angrier the more she thought, until she was utterly furious and her mind was in chaos, tossing aside friendship and reason alike. Her mind repeated only one thought: no matter who she scolded, she must not scold her close friend!

Then, storming out, she fiercely quarreled with those chatterbox palace maids.

The commotion quickly drew the attention of Liang Jiugong and several matrons.

Seeing Liang Jiugong arrive, Li Shuyao’s angry expression swiftly changed to one of grievance, tears streaming down her face.

In front of all the supervisors, she hoarsely and tearfully recounted the exact words of those palace maids’ conversation, word for word.

The maids tried repeatedly to defend themselves, but each time someone tried to speak, Li Shuyao cunningly raised her sobbing volume, her voice plaintive and melodious, blocking their words, leaving them only able to stammer, “Manager Liang, we’re... we’re innocent...”

Innocent of what?

Of course, of being wronged.

But Li Shuyao gave them no chance. She cried, complained, and knelt, crawling toward Matron Lin—the kindest among the matrons—clinging to her leg, her complaints sounding part coaxing, part pleading, moving even the sternest matrons to show some sympathy.

After all, Li Shuyao was naturally beautiful. When she smiled gently and spoke softly, she evoked the image of a radiant spring flower at dawn, unforgettable at a single glance.

When she cried, she resembled a stubborn autumn begonia braving wind and rain, evoking pain just by sight.

...At least the matrons present felt varying degrees of pity.

Turning coldly, they ordered those maids dragged away and each given forty lashes.

After this incident, Li Shuyao became well-known among the palace servants in Qianqing Palace, though not for a good reputation.

Therefore, when wages were distributed, no one voluntarily told her where to collect hers.

Her silver was brought to her personally by Matron Lin.