Warm autumn had arrived—the sky was clear and bright, the autumn air crisp and refreshing. For palace maids, the happiest day was receiving their monthly wages.

Lan Yue said, “Do you know? Qun Qing had me go collect money for her—the wages for our entire palace. That Female Official kept counting and counting until I could barely hold it all in my hands, and she still wasn’t finished! The palace maids nearby looked on with green eyes. The others mistook me for her. As soon as they saw me, they’d pull me aside and say warmly, ‘Miss Qing, it’s you! At the autumn banquet you became quite famous…'”

A’Jiang was busy counting money. The entire dwelling was filled with the rustling sound. “You’ve told that story five times already.”

“Really? I’ve told it five times?” Lan Yue unwillingly slapped her own mouth. “How hateful that I’m inarticulate! You weren’t there to see how spectacular the banquet was—I truly feel sorry for you! Oh right, can you guess how much a Head Palace Maid’s monthly wage actually is?”

A’Jiang pricked up her ears. “Twice ours?”

A’Meng asked, “Three times?”

“Six times.” Lan Yue made a gesture.

“Six times!” Instantly, A’Meng and A’Jiang felt the silver in their hands lose its weight. They bit the corner of their bedding and twisted about on their pallets. “Why so much? I can’t even imagine having that much money—how would one spend it!”

“If we were outside the palace, we could get several bolts of snow satin to make skirts and jackets, buy several pounds of fine meat and fish, glutinous rice cakes…” A’Meng was already lying on the bed lost in fantasy.

“All you know is eating and wearing!” A’Jiang said disdainfully. “Better to save it up, lease a small shop in the suburbs, then find a handsome young peddler to live with…”

Qun Qing sat to the side listening to their conversation. She strung ten copper coins at a time with red thread and arranged them in wooden boxes. Box after box, along with other rewards, filled two chests completely.

Her hair had just been washed. As she bent over, waves of soapberry fragrance drifted to her nose. After organizing everything, Qun Qing used a comb to smooth her long hair while staring blankly at her assets.

How ironic—by avoiding the mission, the personal savings she’d accumulated in just a few months as a palace maid actually exceeded what remained before her death in her previous life as Records Keeper.

Following A’Jiang’s suggestion, leasing a shop seemed worth considering. The peddler could be skipped, though…

After distributing the monthly wages, Qun Qing called everyone from Qingxuan Pavilion together.

After His Majesty appointed Qun Qing as Head Palace Maid, what arrived at Qingxuan Pavilion besides rewards included four newly added menial servant girls and two young eunuchs. The new and old faces in the front courtyard together numbered over ten people.

All of this corresponded to the protocol for a Crown Princess. Though Emperor Chenming hadn’t stated it explicitly, everyone felt good fortune was near. Every face bore an expression of anticipation.

“A’Jiang is clever, so from now on she’ll be responsible for receiving visitors, attending to lamps in the imperial presence, organizing shifts for cleaning the inner halls, and managing the small kitchen.” Qun Qing reassigned everyone’s roles.

“A’Meng is fairly conscientious, so you’ll manage the South Garden flower beds and organize shifts for cleaning the exterior.”

One interior, one exterior—though A’Meng and A’Jiang now supervised people, the two were thoroughly separated. They couldn’t help feeling regretful, exchanging reluctant glances.

Qun Qing’s expression didn’t change. These two liked to bully people when together—they needed to be separated.

“Ruo Chan will still oversee clothing attendance and needlework. If you’re uncertain about anything, come ask me.”

Ruo Chan assented, her rosy cheeks full of shyness. Beside her, someone’s gaze shone brighter than a lantern—Lan Yue was watching Qun Qing with eager eyes.

“Lan Yue, you’ll return to being a Clothing Attendant,” Qun Qing said.

Everyone cast envious looks. Lan Yue was so excited she jumped up and down. Who could understand the feeling of something lost and regained?

“Today is our first meeting. Everyone present will receive an additional tael of silver as my greeting gift. In the future, serve diligently—those with merit will be rewarded, those with errors will be punished. Everyone is dismissed.” Qun Qing said.

That’s… that’s it?

Seeing Qun Qing had finished and was only observing them calmly with her dark eyes, the palace servants looked at each other. It was the first time they’d encountered such a straightforward and practical style. After a moment of silence, cheers erupted, and everyone dispersed.

—

A Female Official from the Palace Administration Bureau carried a fish tally on a wooden tray as she entered the hall. Qun Qing had already changed her attire. She removed the wooden fish tally from her waist and exchanged it for a yellow bronze fish tally. The Female Official smiled congratulations. “Congratulations, Miss.”

Qun Qing curtsied in return. She was so young. In the Female Official’s view, her face was like porcelain—white with a faint hint of pallor, still carrying a trace of childishness. But when her lashes lowered, she appeared extraordinarily aloof, as if no worldly taint could touch her.

After the Female Official left, Qun Qing packed her bedding. A’Meng and the others helped drag the two chests to the side hall, their mouths still full of reluctance. Ruo Chan asked, “Sister, this apricot of yours has molded. Do you still want it?”

The apricot Lu Huating had tossed into her hand that day—she’d kept it on the corner of the table, watching it go from plump to shriveled.

Qun Qing said, “Then throw it away.”

She looked back at a lantern hanging askew on the cabinet. The lantern was extinguished and somewhat flattened. Walking to the door, Qun Qing turned back and took this piece of trash with her as well.

The Eastern Side Hall that had once confined her became Qun Qing’s living and working quarters.

Finally having private lodgings, Qun Qing organized the desk and bed, then sat under the lamp and opened the wax ball.

This was the wax ball she’d obtained from An Lin that day. Inside was the mission he’d assigned to the new “Assassin” at Four Night Tower—the mission she wanted to intercept.

—Four Night Tower’s proprietor Cui Zhu possesses a true account book containing evidence of collusion and crimes involving hundreds of officials. Obtain the account book and find a way to deliver it to Censorate Minister Wang Zhen.

After reading, Qun Qing consigned the information to flames.

The owner of Four Night Tower has a true account book? It must be hidden very carefully—not something an ordinary person could casually find while browsing around.

No wonder An Lin had his “Assassin” infiltrate Four Night Tower disguised as a musician. The plan was probably to earn Cui Zhu’s trust and extract information from him while secretly searching the tower for the account book.

But the previous “Assassin” was already dead—the mission had failed, which very likely meant the grass had been startled and the snake alerted. Cui Zhu would only guard the account book more closely now.

It was indeed difficult.

But precisely because it was difficult, even if the new “Assassin” had already infiltrated Four Night Tower, they probably wouldn’t succeed in the short term. She might not be without opportunity, Qun Qing consoled herself.

Under the clear lamplight, Qun Qing wrote down Cui Zhu’s name on paper.

Cui Zhu was the Cui family’s eldest son. In her memory, he was about thirty-some years old. In his youth, he often mingled with sons of officials, drinking wildly and excessively, but never passed any civil examinations himself.

In Chang’an, one needn’t be from an aristocratic clan—being extremely wealthy and living lavishly could also attract noble sons to befriend you.

The Cui family had been great merchants during the Chu kingdom, dealing in silk fabrics. After the kingdom fell and Chang’an descended into chaos, numerous merchants suffered losses and closed their doors. But the Cui family, by hoarding goods and manipulating prices, not only maintained but increased their wealth. They opened Four Night Tower in Pingkang Ward, added three stories in height, made it extremely luxurious, with nightly music and dancing.

Cui Zhu was this Four Night Tower’s chief operator. Now he needed no official position to make a great show. Because powerful and noble figures frequented Four Night Tower, spending lavishly, the Cui family naturally maintained excellent private relations with various power holders and had become sought-after new nobility.

Soon, wouldn’t someone want to marry into the Cui family?

Below “Cui Zhu,” Qun Qing wrote “Second Miss Cui.”

At the autumn banquet, Princess Danyang had said Meng Guanlou’s new bride was this Second Miss Cui—she should be Cui Zhu’s younger sister.

Miss Cui was merely a merchant’s daughter of humble status, but if one could truly marry into the Cui family, it would be very advantageous for the Meng family’s expansion.

Speaking of which, Crown Prince Zhao of Nan Chu wanted to use the Censorate to take revenge on the Cui family—not only to disrupt Great Chen’s court affairs, but also because he resented that the Cui family were opportunists.

The Chu kingdom’s sovereign had reduced their taxes and supported them many times. Who knew that after Emperor Chenming attacked Chang’an, the Cui family would be the first to pledge allegiance? They even took winter clothing from their shops to help the Li family ward off the cold. With their fawning attitude, they’d obtained their current prosperity and glory—this must have made Crown Prince Zhao grind his teeth in hatred…

Lan Yue came in, and Qun Qing folded the paper.

Now that Qingxuan Pavilion had more palace servants and affairs were more relaxed, and she held a yellow bronze fish tally, she could also find excuses to leave the palace. She could slowly consider how to complete this mission.

“These past days, His Highness the Crown Prince comes to Qingxuan Pavilion to spend the night every other day, but doesn’t mention Luanyi Pavilion anymore.” Lan Yue sat close beside Qun Qing, making conversation.

Qun Qing reminded her, “Princess Bao’an is under house arrest.”

She thought to herself—Shou Xi had seen her exchange a few words with Lu Huating, and Li Xuan had been suspicious for days. Baoshu had actually dared to openly collude with Lu Huating. Even if Yang Fu weren’t under house arrest, Li Xuan probably wouldn’t dare trust them anymore.

“That’s true.” Lan Yue was dispirited. “But recently when His Highness stays overnight, his mood has been constantly poor. No matter how carefully we serve, we get scolded. It makes my heart flutter with anxiety. I’m terribly afraid Lady Zheng might say something wrong and quarrel with His Highness, and then everything we have now would be gone…”

The Crown Prince’s faction had prepared a secret memorial to deal with Lu Huating and set a trap to drive Prince Yan away—neither had been achieved. Being in a bad mood was to be expected.

Thinking this, Qun Qing verbally comforted Lan Yue. “It’s not Lady Zheng’s fault or yours. Perhaps he’s troubled by state affairs.”

Lan Yue said, “It seems he did encounter something troubling. He said the Liuli Kingdom’s envoy had been negotiating well with His Highness, but upon hearing the news that His Majesty dispatched Prince Yan to fight the Western Barbarian nation, his expression changed. Between the lines, he actually threatened His Highness, saying he didn’t want to send the Buddha bone to Chang’an anymore.”

Qun Qing’s lashes trembled slightly.

She knew how much His Majesty and the Crown Prince valued welcoming the Buddha bone. Now Prince Yan’s mansion had also relented and would be responsible for organizing the ceremony. With great difficulty, everyone was united and just waiting to welcome the Buddha bone. If the Liuli Kingdom suddenly changed their minds at this point, it would indeed trouble those in power.

She also hoped matters could be resolved quickly without complications.

Qun Qing’s sole reason for anticipating the Buddha bone welcoming was that if such a grand sacrificial ceremony were held, according to Great Chen law, several palace servants would be released.

—

That night, the Eastern Palace’s sedan chair entered Qingxuan Pavilion.

During lamp attendance, Lan Yue accidentally knocked over a candlestick.

“You go down. Have Qun Qing attend to the lamps,” Li Xuan said coldly.

Li Xuan had obviously just returned from Biquan Palace. His clothes reeked of sandalwood, and beneath the sandalwood was a faint scent of wine. Clearly, negotiations with the Liuli Kingdom’s envoy had not gone well.

Lan Yue very much wanted to remind him that Qun Qing was now Head Palace Maid and didn’t need to do lamp attendance anymore.

But the Crown Prince’s expression was ashen, so she didn’t dare speak. When handing over duties to Qun Qing, Lan Yue gave her a sympathetic look.

Qun Qing was called up in the middle of the night and leaned against the long-familiar wall, contemplating something.

Namely, if a person went entire nights without sleeping, would they die? At this moment, she’d merely been called up for night duty, yet her heart was beating somewhat erratically—quite uncomfortable.

The memorials on Li Xuan’s desk had doubled from before because Prince Yan and Prince Zhao weren’t present. He needed to review them until dawn.

Moreover, he still wanted to drink at night.

“Let’s give His Highness plum wine tonight,” Qun Qing brought over the wine pot. “It’s harder to get drunk on.”

“Who asked you to speak?” Li Xuan was in the middle of his irritation. When he looked up, he caught sight of her neat, jet-black hair coiled in a bun. Then their eyes met directly. Qun Qing saw the anger in those phoenix eyes melt and transform into cold mockery.

Qun Qing quietly withdrew, not arguing with him.

The Eastern Palace had been dealing with many matters recently and was in a bad mood.

Not sleeping, drinking, prone to anger—this person would surely have a short life.

The next moment, she heard a muffled sound. Li Xuan had collapsed onto the table, his pallid face pillowed in scattered black hair. His arm twitched uncontrollably, knocking the wine pot onto the carpet—like some kind of illness manifesting.