This time, the one who struck was Consort De.
A meticulously prepared Lotus-Scented Glutinous Rice Chicken from the Imperial Kitchen was sent back—untouched—from De Consort's palace. The messenger nanny wore a stern expression, openly scolding the kitchen for being careless and perfunctory.
After tasting the dish herself, Qing Tian understood immediately.
The food wasn't the problem.
Consort De was venting—using the dish as an excuse to release her bottled-up frustration.
Qing Tian didn't argue. She didn't defend. She didn't confront.
Instead, she returned to her small kitchen and quietly prepared a single serving of Calming Lotus Seed Sweet Soup, then sent it over.
No explanations. No words.
Consort De accepted it.
And just like that, the matter dissolved into silence.
That incident was a revelation for Qing Tian.
She began observing the movements and moods of the various palaces with even greater care, using food not merely to nourish the body—but to gently regulate emotions. In the treacherous, ever-shifting terrain of the inner court, she unintentionally carved out a small neutral buffer zone—one that no one openly challenged.
Even the emperor heard whispers of it.
During a break from reviewing memorials, Tang Yi casually asked Gao Dequan,"I hear that recently, the Shan Meiren has become half a 'court physician' for the harem?"
Gao Dequan smiled and recounted Qing Tian's subtle maneuvers.
The emperor merely hummed in response, saying nothing more. Yet a faint warmth flickered in his eyes before vanishing.
It seemed that elevating this little kitchen maid—one who always brought a trace of vitality with her—had indeed made his days a touch more interesting.
That evening, Qing Tian was in her small kitchen experimenting with a new formula for calming incense pills, hoping to make the fragrance gentler and longer-lasting. She carefully blended finely ground herbs with honey, her fingertips stained with a faint medicinal scent.
Suddenly, Xiao Lizi's urgent whisper sounded outside the door:"Meiren—His Majesty… His Majesty is here again! He's at the gate!"
Qing Tian's hand jerked, nearly knocking over the mortar.
Again?It had only been five or six days since his last visit. Why would the emperor come again to her remote Tingyu Pavilion?
She didn't have time to think. Quickly washing her hands and smoothing her skirts, she hurried out to greet him.
Tang Yi entered the courtyard with only Gao Dequan at his side. The dusk had deepened, and weariness was evident on his face—a heaviness lingering between his brows.
"This concubine greets Your Majesty," Qing Tian bowed.
"Enough." His voice was hoarse. His gaze flicked to her fingers, still dusted with powder. "What were you doing?"
"Replying to Your Majesty, this concubine was testing a calming incense pill," she answered honestly.
"Calming…" Tang Yi repeated softly, then asked no more as he walked straight into the main hall."I'll rest for a moment."
Qing Tian immediately had Spring Tao and Xia He bring warm water. She herself returned to the kitchen, swiftly preparing a bowl of chilled rock-sugar mung bean paste, freshly made that afternoon, paired with two light osmanthus rice cakes, and brought them in.
Tang Yi leaned back in his chair, eyes closed. When he heard her approach, he opened them—and paused at the sight of the cool, glistening dessert.
He took the bowl and ate slowly.
The icy sweetness melted on his tongue, easing the oppressive summer heat and the irritation weighing on his mind. By the time the bowl was empty, some of the fatigue had faded from his face.
"Court was unbearable today," he said suddenly, his tone low—half soliloquy, half confession."The northern floods and relief funds. The Ministry of Revenue claims there's no money. The Ministry of Works says aid is urgent. They argued until my head ached."
Qing Tian's heart skipped.
The emperor was speaking to her about state affairs?
She dared not respond, lowering her gaze in silence.
"They all claim the treasury is empty," Tang Yi continued coldly, setting down the bowl, staring into the darkening sky beyond the window."Yet some officials' banquets grow more extravagant by the day."
He gave a short, humorless laugh.
"A bowl of mung bean paste and two rice cakes are enough to cool the body and fill the stomach. But some people insist on delicacies without end—as if they could eat gold and silver itself."
At last, Qing Tian understood why he had come. Why his mood was so heavy.
Choosing her words carefully, she spoke softly,"In this concubine's shallow opinion, food exists to nourish body and mind—not to display excess. Like this mung bean paste—simple ingredients, yet it cools and restores. Like the 'Warm-Heart Soup' in the Imperial Kitchen—made from trimmings, yet it warms the stomach and comforts the weary. Perhaps… the affairs of the realm are the same."
She dared not comment directly on politics. She could only borrow food as metaphor.
Tang Yi turned back to her, studying her intently.
After a long moment, he let out a quiet chuckle—one that didn't quite reach his eyes, yet scattered some of the gloom.
"You're skilled at speaking through things," he said. Then paused."I also hear you intend to send me a note. About reorganizing the Imperial Kitchen?"
Qing Tian's heart nearly leapt from her chest.
He even knew that?
She dropped to her knees at once. "This concubine overstepped. These are only crude thoughts, not yet worthy of presentation—"
"Once it's written, let Gao Dequan bring it to me," Tang Yi cut her off, his tone firm."I'd like to see just how far your 'starting from the stomach' idea can go."
With that, he rose and left without lingering.
"This concubine respectfully sees Your Majesty off."
Qing Tian remained kneeling, her heart surging.
The emperor not only knew what she was doing—he was allowing her to formally submit her ideas.
It was an immense opportunity.
And an equally immense trial.
As night deepened, Qing Tian returned to her small kitchen. Watching the lamplight flicker, the vision of change in her heart had never been clearer—or firmer.
She spread out paper and brush and began writing under the steady glow:clear responsibilities, guaranteed basic meals, traceable ingredient systems…
Each line precise. Each thought deliberate.
She knew this proposal could stir up violent waves.
But tonight, the emperor's attitude had given her courage.
She would not only survive in this deep palace—she would use the one thing she knew best to touch, and perhaps reshape, what had long been taken for granted.
The brush moved softly across the page.
Shasha—shasha—
Quiet.
Persistent.
Unstoppable.