Since she couldn’t “steal glimpses of the imperial countenance,” Lin Yuchan could only see the hem of a skirt adorned with gold sequins and a pair of exquisitely embroidered shoes studded with gems. Several pairs of male and female feet clustered behind her.
Behind a screen, a row of black court boots was vaguely visible. The “conservatives” and “Westernization faction” who had been arguing fiercely moments before were forcibly called to truce by Cixi, invited to the back to drink tea in brotherly harmony.
Cixi sipped flower tea, asking a few trivial questions, then told her to raise her head and asked: “These things—you brought them all from Shanghai? Tell me how they’re used.”
Lin Yuchan finally saw the Empress Dowager’s true appearance. She was a carefully maintained beauty, but the abundance of gold and jewels around her head concealed her natural temperament and coloring. Probably fearing wrinkles, her smiles were very restrained—just slight twitches at the corners of her mouth, making it impossible to guess how genuine the expression was.
Looking at the pile of items beside Cixi, Lin Yuchan found them all very familiar.
Every year, large quantities of high-end foreign goods were tributed to the palace—carefully selected luxury items. But what Lin Yuchan had given Wenxiang were mostly affordable market goods, chosen for novelty, which the palace lacked. Things the palace didn’t have, Wenxiang dared not use. When the Empress Dowager inquired, he directly handed everything over!
Quite honest indeed.
Lin Yuchan had to introduce them all again.
The openwork screen was semi-transparent, unable to completely separate men and women, just creating the appearance of “ruling from behind the curtain.” Lin Yuchan saw several white-bearded old men behind the screen, their gazes focused on those foreign goods, some showing obvious curiosity.
Cixi smiled: “Wenxiang, you haven’t been doing Westernization long, but you’ve met many strange people—last time a foreign scholar, this time a female merchant. Next time, don’t bring me a monkey!”
This was a joke. Palace maids laughed softly.
Lin Yuchan thought: well, apparently Hede had also been brought for “imperial viewing.” She wasn’t the first.
Cixi then said to Lin Yuchan: “Then I ask you—what other curiosities are there in the market now? Let us broaden our horizons, too.”
Lin Yuchan: “…”
The Empress Dowager’s first question was difficult to answer. Beside her, Manager An’s eyes showed mocking amusement.
Knowing she’d only come to Beijing to visit Mrs. Wenxiang and had given all her Shanghai-purchased foreign goods to Wenxiang’s residence, what inventory could she have left?
Fortunately, Lin Yuchan had one final preparation. She smiled in response and took out an exquisite glass bottle from her sleeve.
“There is something. This is what I specifically saved to honor the Empress Dowager.”
French original lavender essential oil, never opened, originally intended for Rong Hong. Due to some mysterious premonition, she’d brought it to Beijing as insurance, thinking that if nothing happened, she’d take it back unopened.
But now, in emergency circumstances, she’d requisition it. Rong Hong certainly wouldn’t mind—she’d never seen him use skincare.
This item was unique in the entire Qing Dynasty. Presentable.
“Removes spots and whitens, reduces wrinkles and tenderizes skin, relieves stress, improves sleep… can be used for steaming, massage, face masks… this was specially mailed back from France by Mr. Rong Hong, who went abroad to purchase machinery…”
She rambled about various effects. Having seen modern advertising’s exaggerated claims, these terms came naturally. She also praised Rong Hong while at it.
Cixi was delighted. She valued skincare and beauty most. Having tried all the palace’s ancient recipes and grown sick of rose water and honey cream scents, she played with the mysterious Western flower water bottle for ages, carefully opened a crack to sniff, was overjoyed, and closed her eyes in rapture.
When she reopened them, looking at Lin Yuchan, her eyes held undisguised appreciation.
She casually asked: “Are foreign things reliable?”
Lin Yuchan glimpsed the “conservatives” and “Westernization faction” behind the screen, naturally knowing which side to support.
“Compared to our ancient Chinese prescriptions, each naturally has merits,” she carefully chose her words. “But this foreign flower water has one advantage—I heard they now use machines for production, so at least it’s clean, definitely not stirred by dirty hands.”
Whether serious history or popular literature, both often mention Cixi’s love of cleanliness. Indeed, popular literature didn’t deceive. At Lin Yuchan’s words, Cixi’s smile widened, and she nodded.
Manager An, beside her, also energetically played along: “Your Majesty already has heavenly beauty. With this European fragrant water, oh my, our palace servants will need doctors for their eyes—did we see wrong? How could there be fairies in the mortal world?”
“Since there’s such good stuff,” Cixi suddenly asked with a smile, “why did that Rong Hong only send it to you and not give the palace a share?”
Lin Yuchan: “…”
Palace intrigue runs deep—the Empress Dowager’s words were full of traps!
If Rong Hong had such awareness, he wouldn’t still be a fifth-rank military official at over thirty.
Under extreme pressure, Lin Yuchan’s mind raced, immediately showing surprise: “He didn’t? He should have sent some too… I know—it must have been lost in transit. Actually, of the things and letters he sends from abroad, having half arrive safely is good.”
Transoceanic postal service was unreliable—Rong Hong’s express letter from Paris had indeed been lost. This blame could fall on foreign sailors, not Qing subjects.
This explanation was perfectly reasonable.
Cixi was just teasing her. Previously encountered minor folk figures would be scared into kowtowing after a few words of intimidation—quite amusing. This small woman was different, answering flawlessly, making Cixi want to test her further.
“Then, you gave Mr. Wen so many foreign goods, and you didn’t know I’d see you then. Why did you save just this item?”
Lin Yuchan was startled again, glancing at Wenxiang behind the screen. She couldn’t say she was reluctant to give it away…
She maintained her cheerful smile, thought, then said: “This flower water was originally for Mrs. Wen. But when she asked about its origin, she said such precious things only suited people of Your Majesty’s status. Since Mr. Wen is always simple, if she accepted it, the couple might have discord. So she returned it to me. Coincidentally, this flower water ended up in Your Majesty’s hands anyway—Mrs. Wen was right.”
This also praised Wenxiang. Mutual commercial flattery was harmless.
After speaking, she carefully raised her eyes and saw Cixi’s mouth corners turn slightly upward.
“Look, this is a Han person, yet she knows propriety.”
She then turned to complain to Wenxiang: “You’re something. People say doing Westernization brings big profits, but you pretend to be poor.”
Wenxiang quickly stood, explaining in alarm: “No such thing! This servant wholeheartedly serves the country—every penny goes where needed! As for living behind closed doors at home, why be so particular?”
Cixi smiled: “I know! Look at your boots—your toes are about to poke through. How disgusting. Go get a new pair later.”
Wenxiang quickly thanked her.
After standing, he looked pleased, glancing at the conservative Yu Sheng beside him.
Yu Sheng sneered coldly and lowered his head to drink tea.
Lin Yuchan slowly exhaled.
Just acting then. Performing together. Improvising. She was just a prop.
“Oh, right. Come here.” Cixi suddenly summoned her forward. “This jar you brought—I had the palace cooks who know Western cuisine look at it. No one recognized it.”
Lin Yuchan quickly took the jar and saw it was molasses.
Commonly used in concession Western restaurants, Beijing truly didn’t have it.
She answered: “This is syrup made from sugar beets, nourishing, mostly used for baking Western pastries.”
Cixi became interested: “What food can be made? There’s a pastry kitchen here. You make something to see, and let my cooks learn too.”
What could Lin Yuchan do but quickly agree, searching her memory for afternoon tea recipes: “I’ll make you gingerbread cake! Called ‘gingerbread’ in English—a European traditional sweet that nourishes blood and warms the stomach.”
The key was simplicity. Hard to mess up.
Cixi loved sweets and immediately smiled: “Go quickly, go quickly.”
Lin Yuchan backed away and was led to the kitchen, feeling somewhat absurd.
After all, this was a strictly hierarchical ancient society. Ultimately, today, she was just a tool for livening the atmosphere.
Cixi was just a thirty-year-old young woman. Like many thirty-year-old sisters today, she loved cosmetics and cuisine, so that many later folk snacks had similar origin stories: “One day Empress Dowager Cixi happened to eat…”
The Empress Dowager’s whim led to receiving a unique folk female merchant, not to discuss economics or policy with her, but purely to satisfy curiosity and amuse herself.
But Lin Yuchan felt slightly unwilling. She’d risen at four AM, endured three hours of a bumpy carriage ride, waited another hour and a half in autumn wind, expended much mental energy, answered tremblingly, all to make Cixi a pastry…
She had many insights about the Westernization Movement and China’s fate to share with this female supreme ruler of the empire. Though she knew this couldn’t save the Qing Dynasty’s doomed fate, even if it could make Cixi do one less stupid thing or pardon one more insightful person in the future, it would be worthwhile.
Worst case, even discussing her business and embracing the imperial thigh…
More than one person had sternly warned her: absolutely no mentioning topics the Empress Dowager didn’t ask about.
She dared not court death. So now she could only bake cake.
The “pastry kitchen” in the Old Summer Palace had a modest name but was a huge, high-end, Chinese-Western combined kitchen with several large cabinets displaying various useful and useless delicacy seasonings.
Only molasses was missing.
Lin Yuchan first washed her hands, asked the kitchen workers for white flour, milk, butter, eggs, honey, ginger, sugar, salt…
Her cooking skills were originally mediocre, but to serve Miss Compton’s afternoon tea, she’d specifically learned several popular Western pastry methods at Western restaurants. Though she couldn’t match concession foreign head chefs, dealing with Cixi, who’d never left the North, should be adequate.
Nineteenth-century gingerbread wasn’t the hard cookies used for “gingerbread houses” later, but softer, more cake-like texture. Lin Yuchan skillfully prepared dough, adding ingredients one by one, finally stirring in molasses and putting it in the Western oven.
The palace kitchen’s equipment was impressive—low temperature and slow fire were just right. While the cake was still in the oven, the fragrance already filled the room.
Timing it precisely, using thick cloth to wrap her hands, she removed the cake, beautifully baked to antique bronze color, steaming with butter’s sweet fragrance mixed with slightly spicy ginger scent—very festive smelling.
Lin Yuchan found rarely seen cinnamon in the cabinet, ground it into powder, and sprinkled it on the cake for flavor.
Several nearby cooks watched throughout, secretly memorizing her movements and steps.
Finally, they helped her cut and plate the cake on enamel colored porcelain, paired with tribute Western silver utensils inlaid with sapphires, and covered with silk cloth to prevent wind.
Suddenly Manager An entered, sniffed hard, and encouraged her quietly: “You did well. The Empress Dowager hasn’t been this happy in a long time. Serve carefully by her side later—there will be benefits.”
Lin Yuchan smiled: “I understand.”
Wenxiang brushes the Empress Dowager’s favor, I get reward money—we both win.
Watching the cake being carried away by little eunuchs, she hurried to follow.
Cixi was already waiting, smelling the fragrance with anticipation.
The silk cover was lifted, and armored fingers were about to touch the plate edge when suddenly Cixi’s gaze froze, her expression darkened, and she shouted: “Audacious!”
She violently pushed, smashing the plate to the ground with a crash—porcelain shards scattered everywhere, the fragrant cake rolling aside!
Everyone present was terrified!
Several eunuchs and palace maids knelt together. The old men behind the screen collectively knelt, old bones creaking. Lin Yuchan also hurriedly prostrated herself, feeling like she’d fallen into an ice cave.
From the corner of her eye, she watched the gingerbread cake rolling on the ground. She’d tasted the scraps—the flavor was fine. Moreover, Cixi hadn’t taken a bite—why did she suddenly turn hostile?!
Cixi’s face showed fury. Lin Yuchan’s hair stood on end, feeling doomed.
Definitely not because of taste… appearance? Appearance was fine too, or Manager An would have warned… covered with silk all the way, no sand or insects could get in…
Lin Yuchan suddenly had an epiphany. The decorative cinnamon powder!
This thing was rarely used in Northern cuisine. Cixi probably hadn’t seen it and took the earthy yellow powder for dirt!
Beijing was windy and sandy, but letting sand blow into the Empress Dowager’s food—that was terrible!
She couldn’t explain either. Explaining would mean contradicting the Empress Dowager’s face, implying she was ignorant and didn’t know cinnamon powder!
But not explaining meant accepting the charge of “offending superiors”—the death penalty!
Behind the screen, Wenxiang’s face was ashen. Yu Sheng glanced sideways with a cold sneer.
A meteor-like thought flashed through Lin Yuchan’s mind: she couldn’t wait for death passively, couldn’t let Cixi say “there’s dirt on the cake.” The Empress Dowager’s golden words were true—once said, she couldn’t clear herself even jumping into Zhongnanhai.
“Your Majesty, please calm down, don’t anger yourself into illness.” Lin Yuchan’s tongue moved faster than her brain, intercepting Cixi’s words first. “I… this woman… I didn’t know Your Majesty disliked cinnamon powder sprinkled on cake. I… I deserve death ten thousand times. Next time, I’ll remember to use whole cinnamon sticks for flavoring. It’s my fault—Your Majesty, spare my life!”
Cixi was startled, looked at the porcelain shards at her feet, and somewhat understood.
Not sand…
What was cinnamon anyway?
This girl was quite clever—a few words both preserved the Empress Dowager’s face and cleared herself. No wonder she caught Wenxiang’s eye!
Cixi smiled, pointing her finger and saying magnanimously, “Indeed deserving of death! But I blame those around me for not telling you clearly—I don’t like powders and such. Fewer of these fancy tricks in the future. The ignorant are innocent—get up.”
All eunuchs and palace maids sighed in great relief. Nimble palace maids knelt on the ground, carefully collecting porcelain shards bit by bit.
Manager An, in flowered clothes, was the second to understand, knocked his head twice, decisively taking the blame: “Yes, yes, this servant was negligent, didn’t explain clearly to Miss Su. This servant deserves death—please punish me, Your Majesty.”
He kept winking at Lin Yuchan.
Understanding, she quickly went to the kitchen, cut another piece of cake, paired it with a whole cinnamon stick, and had it presented to Cixi.
Returning, her heart still pounded violently—she’d finally learned what “accompanying the ruler is like accompanying a tiger” meant.
This time, Cixi ate with relish, even saying: “Cut a few pieces and share with the gentlemen—let them taste Western pastry.”
Moments later, both “conservatives” and “Westernization faction” had small porcelain plates, eating gingerbread cake in harmony.
Yu Sheng held a Western fork, glaring furiously, looking ready to commit suicide with the fork.
Cixi: “How’s the taste?”
This question had only one correct answer. The old scholars praised it unanimously: “Extremely delicious.”
Cixi smiled and glanced at Lin Yuchan, suddenly extending her long-armed hand to gently touch her cheek.
“Clever and skillful. Today, you’ve broadened my horizons. Since you can earn money yourself, rewarding you with silver is meaningless. I’ll ennoble you as a ninth-rank lady—gives you status when you go out.”
She glanced intentionally or unintentionally at the screen.
What pillars of state—none had brains as good as this folk woman’s. Some people were still dazed, not knowing why the Empress Dowager had been angry or why she turned from anger to joy, completely clueless.
Everyone’s faces finally returned to normal. A eunuch behind Cixi immediately took up his brush to record. Three or four people winked at Lin Yuchan. She quickly acted, overjoyed, and kowtowed in thanks.
Though just an empty title, the court wouldn’t assign actual work. Gao Dewen was fourth rank but still idled at home daily, even avoiding public attention for English lessons.
The old scholars tasting cake behind weren’t happy. In the past, Emperor Qianlong’s southern tours had led to countless minor figures receiving titles on whim, causing Jiangnan to be overrun with “aristocratic families” ever since. Though inappropriate, he was still the true Dragon Son, so people didn’t comment much. Now this Empress Dowager was copying him, randomly ennobling commoners—was she imitating Emperor Qianlong?
And a widow too—so inauspicious! But they absolutely couldn’t show such attitudes. The current Empress Dowager was also a widow, sharing the same fate—they couldn’t rush to invite trouble.
… Forget it. She only ennobled a common woman, not an official. Not competing for their jobs. They’d endure it.
Within five minutes, Lin Yuchan drifted from “death penalty” to “ninth-rank lady”—her heart couldn’t handle it, like being thrown into a crazy roller coaster.
She suddenly realized that, though women’s imperial edicts had little practical use, like men’s academic degrees, they provided protection. With them, you didn’t need to kneel in government offices, and if you broke the law, officials couldn’t arrest you directly—they had to first petition the court to strip your title before treating you as a commoner. So, anyone with titles or honors was rarely provoked casually.
This alone gave Boya Company solid insurance, boosting risk resistance by several orders of magnitude!
Spoken by the Empress Dowager herself, absolutely irreversible. Lin Yuchan wished she were playing a simulation game—she’d immediately save and log off to celebrate all night.
But Cixi was still in high spirits. Swallowing cake, she suddenly looked up and asked: “What did you say your Shanghai trading company was called?”
Lin Yuchan’s heart jumped, answering quietly but clearly: “Boya Trading Limited Company.”
“Which two characters?”
“Bo from ‘broad and learned,’ ya from ‘refined and elegant.'”
“Good. You named it?”
“Mr. Rong Hong is the company’s founder.”
She comforted her little heart: the game is in progress, can’t save. Hang in there a bit longer.
“Selling this—Western molasses? This flower, water what?”
“Not currently. But if Your Majesty has needs, I can negotiate directly with foreign firms for the best, newest goods.”
“Fine. Let you supply in the future.”
Hearing this, the eunuch beside Cixi immediately took out another notebook, writing rapidly.
Lin Yuchan’s first reaction: what kind of order is this—no quantity, no price, no contract terms… wait, I haven’t agreed yet!
The eunuch’s glance made her understand: whether you agree isn’t up to you. Details to discuss later. Just be happy.
“Also, that Rong Hong,” Cixi said, “I’ve seen photographs—indeed handsome…”
Yu Sheng finally couldn’t stand it. With a mouthful of unswallowable cake, he stood and called: “Your Majesty! This servant has long advised—Rong Hong comes from humble origins, unlearned in poetry and books, unfit for great use. The machinery factory matter benefits little, unworthy of Your Majesty’s time and thought. After all, now it’s only the Two Empresses’ regency—you must consider what happens when the Emperor takes personal control…”
Yu Sheng had fleshy cheeks, his jowls hanging like cloth bags. When he spoke, breath had to circulate several times between those bulging cheeks, gathering force. When sound emerged, it seemed loud and powerful, naturally carrying authority.
Lin Yuchan’s ears rang from his voice, her heart involuntarily clenching.
Daring to speak to Cixi like that…
However, the current Cixi’s political credentials were still shallow—any former dynasty minister with some weight could pressure her.
Yu Sheng’s meaning: you’re just a woman, letting you handle politics now is temporary expedient. The country’s steering wheel remains in we old ministers’ hands—don’t think too highly of yourself.
Cixi’s eyes only flashed displeasure without rebuttal.
She turned to chat idly with Lin Yuchan: “That Rong Hong—transferring his shop to you, he doesn’t mind you’re a woman?”
Lin Yuchan thought and answered: “He’s an enlightened person, judging people first by ability, second by status. He trusts my capabilities, so he confidently entrusted the company to me. Simple as that.”
Cixi smiled pleasantly.
“Then, you as a woman, ordering men around—they have no complaints?”
Lin Yuchan lowered her head, articulating clearly: “Business comes first. Gender distinctions are just details. My male employees and I have the same goal—developing this legacy left by predecessors, not letting it fail in our hands. Initially, working together, there was indeed friction, but once they recognized I could truly lead everyone to earn money, expand, and handle competition, doubts naturally faded. Now everyone’s united with me, working together—naturally, the business prospers yearly.”
Cixi laughed heartily: “Wouldn’t have thought—you’re quite a heroine.”
Lin Yuchan: “I dare not claim that. This woman only manages a shop, while Your Majesty cares for the entire nation. I can’t compare to one ten-thousandth of Your Majesty.”
After speaking, she calmly raised her head, glimpsing a knowing smile on Cixi’s face.