After Hu Shanwei stood on East Long Street with the other female officials, finishing their recitation of the first palace regulation and being certain she could never forget it in her lifetime, Director Fan led them back to the Palace Administration to teach the remaining palace regulations.

Hu Shanwei had previously worked as a copyist. As Director Fan lectured, she took notes with paper and brush, writing at breakneck speed to barely keep pace with Director Fan’s rhythm. After a full day, Hu Shanwei’s notes had piled up as thick as bricks beside her desk.

She summarized it herself: so-called palace regulations, in reverse, were essentially “Several Ways to Die in the Great Ming Palace.”

When she had been a commoner, only crimes like murder, arson, and other felonies would result in beheading. But in the palace, many perfectly ordinary things could bring fatal disaster.

Take seeing a doctor when ill. When women in the harem fell sick—whether imperial consorts or young princes and princesses—they could only have eunuch messengers go outside the palace to describe their symptoms to imperial physicians, who would then prescribe medicine. If the condition was truly severe, the patient would be moved to Qianqing Palace where His Majesty resided, so the imperial physicians could take pulses and make diagnoses.

Imperial physicians from the Imperial Medical Academy absolutely could not step foot in the harem—otherwise both the physician and whoever invited the physician into the harem would be beheaded! The only ones who could treat illness in the harem were female doctors or midwives from the Medicine Department of the Imperial Kitchen Bureau.

Another example: conducting superstitious activities like burning incense and worshipping Buddha in the palace meant beheading.

Or passing letters outside the palace—the writer, the messenger, and anyone who knew about it would all be beheaded.

Director Fan lectured all day, explaining each rule in detail. Hu Shanwei and the other female officials listened without blinking, because missing even one rule could cost them their lives.

As the sun set, Director Fan said: “That’s all for today. You are all intelligent, literate people. The palace regulations examination will be in fifteen days. The standard is not a single mistake—those who fail the assessment will be immediately expelled from the palace.”

Everyone shuddered, all showing worry and feeling personally threatened.

Director Fan’s expression was relaxed: “Expulsion is not punishment—it’s saving your lives. If you’re not even familiar with palace regulations, you’ll lose your heads sooner or later. So those who regret entering the palace now still have time to leave.”

After listening to a day’s lecture, the female officials felt as if they had walked through death’s door a hundred times!

Director Fan left the classroom, and the female officials hurriedly stood to bid farewell to their teacher.

Hu Shanwei gathered her palace regulation notes from the desk, and a group of female officials crowded around.

Some spoke directly: “I write slowly and fear I may have omissions. Please let me borrow Secretary Hu’s notes to check and fill gaps.”

Others first flattered her sweetly: “Secretary Hu’s handwriting is so fast—we can only look up to you in admiration.”

Hu Shanwei thought to herself: I’m just a copyist with no other talents except writing quickly. Who would have thought this would become an advantage?

Hu Shanwei was not a petty person and said: “If you don’t mind my ugly handwriting, take the notes. We can all check for gaps and share knowledge together—just return them to me tonight.”

After class dismissed, young palace maids led the new female officials to their assigned quarters for rest.

The new female officials lived in a row of corridor rooms west of the Western Six Palaces. Each person had a small room divided by screens and treasure shelves into two sections—one bedroom and one study.

On the canopy bed in the bedroom, brand new bedding and clothing for all four seasons were piled like small mountains.

Three sets each for spring, summer, autumn, and winter—all made from fine materials Hu Shanwei had never worn before.

Spring had gourd brocade and hundred-flower brocade, summer had crimson gauze and silk, autumn had jade rabbit and osmanthus brocade and grape cotton, Double Ninth Festival had chrysanthemum and dogwood brocade, winter had snowflake, plum blossom, and Buddha’s hand brocade.

Additionally, there were longevity brocades for birthday celebrations, and joy-character brocades for celebrating the birth of princes and princesses, as well as white coarse cloth and hemp cloth for funeral wear.

There were also two sets of official robes, styled after Song Dynasty female officials’ attire—purple round-collar narrow-sleeved flowered silk robes embroidered all over with folded-branch small sunflowers outlined in gold thread, worn with pearl-netted gold-sewn sashes and red skirts, and black boots embroidered with small golden flowers.

The headdress was the black gauze cap common to officials, without side wings, with realistic silk flowers pinned on both sides of the cap.

There was also a silver gilt peony jade belt, loosely hung at the waist to decorate the official robe and display authority.

This beautiful yet solemn official robe dispelled Hu Shanwei’s fear of palace regulations: no matter what, as a female official, she would receive monthly salary and could support herself—others wouldn’t dare look down on her.

Student Bai had said she was too weak, pitying her misfortune while being frustrated by her lack of resistance.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to resist—but how could a woman without money or status resist?

How could she willingly wash her stepmother’s chamber pot? If she refused, her stepmother could find reasons to scold her for being unfilial. Even though neighbors all knew the stepmother was too harsh and in the wrong, according to moral law, defying parents and not obeying them was unfilial!

Based on this alone, even if her stepmother beat her to death, she would face no punishment. But if she dared fight back and injured her stepmother, the lightest punishment would be a hundred lashes, the heaviest would be beheading.

Hu Shanwei didn’t want to perish together with her stepmother—that foolish woman wasn’t worth her life.

Hu Shanwei placed the female official’s black gauze cap on her head. Palace regulations weren’t frightening—people were frightening.

As she was pondering this, someone knocked at the door.

Hu Shanwei removed the black gauze cap and opened the door to find the old palace servant who had examined her body that morning.

“I’m delivering luggage for Secretary Hu.” The old palace servant opened a chest and took out her pressed old dress and skirt, an iron military token, and a pair of polished, bright sheepskin boots.

Compared to the magnificent new clothes and official robes piled like mountains on the canopy bed, this set of old clothes worn when entering the palace looked like preserved vegetables pulled from a pickle jar.

Hu Shanwei quickly invited the old palace servant to sit and poured tea: “You helped press my clothes and polish my shoes—thank you so much. You’ve helped me so much, yet I still don’t know your honored name.”

The old palace servant didn’t stand on ceremony, sitting down to drink tea and chat.

“I’m an orphan, nameless and without family. I used to be a slave girl sold from house to house. Whatever my masters called me, that’s what I was called. Later I worked as a rough servant in His Majesty’s former residence, Prince Wu’s mansion. A steward casually called me Mei Xiang, so I became Mei Xiang.”

At this time, young palace maids or old palace servants were also entering neighboring rooms to deliver luggage. The other new female officials all gave tips—respectable small items like gold and silver cakes, ear picks, and hairpins.

Sounds of palace servants expressing gratitude for the new female officials’ tips came from outside the doors.

Hu Shanwei’s cheeks grew slightly warm. She was penniless—if Student Bai hadn’t given her a pair of shoes, she probably would have been embarrassed on the spot. How could she tip Mei Xiang?

Mei Xiang was very tactful. She lifted her teacup: “You are an official, I am the lowest palace servant. I’m just older and have eaten a few more bowls of rice than others, so people respectfully call me auntie. Your invitation to drink tea is the best tip.”

Despite these words, Hu Shanwei still felt somewhat embarrassed.

Mei Xiang set down her teacup and took out a book that was nearly worn to pieces: “Secretary Hu entered through her own abilities. The imperial palace is a treasure trove—this palace never lacks gold, silver, or precious jewels, only talent. If you teach me to read, consider that my tip.”

Hu Shanwei looked and saw it was a primer called “Thousand Character Classic.” She said: “This is not difficult at all—I’ll teach you. If there’s anything you don’t understand, just come ask me.”

Mei Xiang was overjoyed, immediately kneeling to serve tea and acknowledge her as teacher. Hu Shanwei was puzzled by the wild joy in Mei Xiang’s eyes: “Is it very difficult to become literate in the palace?”

Mei Xiang said: “Not really difficult. The palace regularly has female officials teaching palace servants. Palace maids who pass examinations with excellent grades are called ‘female scholars.’ These female scholars are assigned to the Six Bureaus and One Department to assist female officials, help out, and do miscellaneous work. After passing further examinations, they’re promoted to eighth-rank female secretaries like yourself. So in this palace, if you can’t read, you’ll never have a chance to advance.”

“But you see, each time the palace opens schools, every palace selects those clever young maids of ten or so. Those of us in our thirties and forties long ago lost hope—we can only study on our own in stolen moments.”

Mei Xiang lovingly held the book in her hands: “Through years of self-study, I can write and pronounce all the characters in the ‘Thousand Character Classic,’ but when they’re broken apart and recombined with various classical particles, I can’t understand them. I beg Secretary Hu to teach me to read.”

Hu Shanwei felt deep respect for Mei Xiang. At forty years old, she still had intellectual curiosity and ambition—what excuse did she have not to work hard?

“Good, I promise you. Whenever I have free time, I’ll teach you to read. I’ll start by explaining the ‘Book of Songs,’ then discuss the ‘Analects.’ Many allusions in books come from these sources. Only by reading through these two can you understand the ‘Four Books.'”

“Just…” Hu Shanwei also had a request: “I’m new here and know nothing about palace affairs. You’re a veteran who came from Prince Wu’s mansion—please give me guidance in the future.”

Mei Xiang patted her chest: “Leave it to me.”

Hu Shanwei asked: “Why did His Majesty erect iron steles saying ‘Eunuchs shall not interfere in government affairs, violators will be executed’ on the two long streets of the Eastern and Western Six Palaces? I notice these iron steles were erected recently—there’s not a trace of rust yet. Such simple content, yet Director Fan made us recite it a hundred times—what happened in the palace?”

Mei Xiang showed an appreciative look: “Secretary Hu is meticulous as a hair. Others see only one, but you can see ten. The origin of this matter is as follows…”

It turned out the Hongwu Emperor detested eunuchs. Even before becoming emperor, while at Prince Wu’s mansion, he had said to ministers: “I have seen historical records of the final years of Han and Tang dynasties, all ruined by eunuch corruption beyond salvation, and have never failed to sigh with regret… When founding a state and establishing a family, petty people must not be employed—this is the sage’s deep warning. Those in the palace prohibition should only be made to sweep and clean, serve and attend, and transmit commands.”

The Hongwu Emperor feared eunuchs would ruin the state, only letting them do simple tasks like cleaning and conveying orders. But in the palace, it was impossible not to use eunuchs, and their power grew ever greater. Finally, in the tenth year of Hongwu—three years ago—an old eunuch who had served with brush and ink for many years, presuming on his position, discussed political affairs before the Hongwu Emperor.

The Hongwu Emperor flew into a rage, ordering him to return to his hometown, never to enter the palace again for life.

The Hongwu Emperor issued orders forbidding eunuchs from being literate—if they couldn’t read, they couldn’t study books, couldn’t understand memorials, wouldn’t understand court politics, and thus couldn’t meddle in politics.

Hearing this, Hu Shanwei immediately understood the reason behind her summarized “Several Ways to Die in the Great Ming Palace”—why eunuchs privately studying would be beheaded. The iron steles on East and West Long Streets were primarily to prevent eunuchs from bringing disaster to the state.

Mei Xiang said: “His Majesty uses female officials to check eunuchs. All written affairs in the harem are entrusted to the Six Bureaus and One Department. Eunuchs only manage front court matters, while all harem affairs, large and small, are handled by female officials. In the third year of Hongwu, the Six Bureaus and One Department had only thirty-eight female officials, but this year, including you newcomers, there are two hundred eighty-eight female officials in total.”

“Even…” Mei Xiang whispered in her ear: “Even His Majesty’s imperial seals are kept by the female Seal Keeper of the Imperial Wardrobe Bureau. When the front court needs to use the imperial seals, eunuchs must come to the harem to request them from the Seal Keeper, who verifies everything is correct before taking the seals to stamp documents.”

Female officials actually controlled the state seals! Looking through history, female officials of all previous dynasties had never wielded such great power.

Hu Shanwei felt her eyes opened wide, realizing her profession actually had great prospects.

Though the risks were great—serving as a female official in the Great Ming palace had at least a hundred ways to die—the future prospects were also great!