Concubine of the Eastern Palace (Qing Dynasty Time Travel)

“How could this…” Without heeding Qingxing’s attempts to stop her, Cheng Wanyun reached out and parted the vines. What appeared was a yellow-and-white long-haired cat. “Isn’t this Yang Gege’s cat?”

But the cat was now a far cry from the chubby, fluffy one it used to be. It was emaciated, with wounds on its tail and back. Now, drenched by the rain, it looked utterly pitiful.

There were no secrets in the palace—if you paid attention and asked around, you could always learn something. Bitao quickly mentioned the incident where Yang Gege had abandoned the cat and hesitated before advising, “Gege, since this cat was abandoned by Yang Gege, we shouldn’t get involved. Otherwise, she might make up some story. Let’s go.”

Cheng Wanyun hesitated, looking at the cat in front of her. She was gently pulled by Qingxing and Bitao, but she kept looking back several times.

Bitao became anxious. “Gege, the cat looks like it’s not going to survive. Let’s not get involved.”

“But…”

“Let’s go, Gege,” Qingxing added, waving at Tianyin, who was rushing over with an umbrella. “Our escort is here. Let’s go back and change into dry clothes, or you’ll catch a cold.”

Cheng Wanyun walked with the two women for a few steps but stopped again.

“It’s still alive. If we just leave now and it dies, I’m afraid my conscience won’t let me rest.”

A life versus a few pieces of gossip—there was no need to even compare the two.

The rain was pouring harder, and with a crackling sound, she turned around and jogged back. The two maids hurriedly followed, and when they saw Cheng Wanyun about to pick up the cat, Qingxing quickly rushed forward and grabbed it. “Let me do it, let me do it, Gege, don’t dirty your hands.”

The rain was coming down even harder. The small group, with the cat in tow, ran back to the courtyard, all drenched.

Half an hour later, Cheng Wanyun was wrapped in a thick blanket, with a warm charcoal brazier at her feet. She sipped ginger tea, taking small, cautious sips. “It’s really spicy.”

Bitao, who was drying her hair, responded, “It’s the strong ginger that drives away the cold.”

“What happened to the cat?” Cheng Wanyun grimaced from the spice and put the bowl down to ask. “Has Tianjin returned?”

As soon as he came back, Cheng Wanyun instructed him to take the cat, dry it with a small blanket, and send it to the animal room to see if it could be saved. At least she had tried to do her part.

Previously, Tianjin had worked at the livestock quarters for many years and knew an elderly eunuch who was very skilled at treating the illnesses of cats and dogs. Cheng Wanyun hoped that he could truly save the cat’s life.

“Not yet,” Qingxing instructed the little palace maids to set up the dining table in the inner room. “Even if Tianjin had wings, he couldn’t move that fast. You’ve asked about the cat three times already, so stop worrying. As for the porridge hotpot you wanted, Zheng Taijian said he’ll bring it over shortly.”

Cheng Wanyun raised her eyebrows. “Zheng Taijian is coming personally?”

Qingxing nodded.

With that confirmation, Cheng Wanyun was sure. Zheng Taijian was indeed a clever person who could understand her intentions without her having to say much.

Normally, when she wanted something from the kitchen, she never spoke directly to Zheng Taijian. She would always tell Sanbao first, and then Sanbao would relay the message. Today, however, she had made sure that the little eunuch spoke directly to Zheng Taijian, hoping to see if Zheng Taijian had any intentions of establishing a deeper and more formal rapport with her.

In addition, she had been really craving the porridge hotpot.

The month was nearly over, and the kitchen had stopped preparing hotpots. Moreover, she had always wanted to try the porridge-based hotpot, a dish typical of Guangdong, but it wasn’t available here. She had explained to Sanbao how it was eaten and what ingredients were involved, and asked him to try preparing it for her ahead of time. When she wanted to eat it, they could get everything ready.

She had spent half an hour explaining in detail, and thankfully, the boy had remembered everything.

“Zheng Taijian is now trying to win us over,” Bitao said as she braided Cheng Wanyun’s dried hair and tucked it behind her head so she could eat. “He’s so old, and every time he sees me, he bows and calls me ‘Aunt Bitao.’ Oh, it really makes me feel embarrassed.”

Cheng Wanyun and Qingxing both laughed.

This was also why she chose Zheng Taijian—he was the only one in the kitchen who had shown kindness to her. Now it was time to return the favor.

Soon, someone from the kitchen arrived.

As expected, Zheng Taijian came personally. He directed Sanbao to set up the porridge hotpot, completely unbothered by Bitao’s teasing gaze. He bowed respectfully and greeted her: “Gege, please have a look. Is this the flavor you were looking for?”

It was Cheng Wanyun’s first time seeing him. Zheng Taijian, in his sixties, had white hair, a wrinkled face, and sagging features, but his cloudy eyes still gleamed with sharpness. He wore a freshly laundered eighth-rank eunuch uniform, his sideburns and nails neatly trimmed. It was clear that he had made a special effort to present himself.

She smiled and gestured for him to stand and speak, glancing at the hanging pot. Inside was a clear, milky-white porridge. When she scooped some with a spoon, there was no visible rice. The porridge base, though simple in appearance, was not easy to prepare like this. She then handed Qingxing some silver to reward him: “Thank you for your hard work, Eunuch Zheng.”

When Zheng Taijian heard this, the tension in his shoulders eased, and he quickly declined, saying, “Cooking for Gege is my duty. I can’t accept this reward.”

Cheng Wanyun could tell that he was expressing his desire to pledge his loyalty, and she felt satisfied.

She had never given money to the kitchen staff before, only giving small tips to the eunuchs who delivered the meals. Today, without her needing to say anything, Zheng Taijian was willing to express his loyalty of his own accord. This was something she had not expected, and it was a rare opportunity.

Even a salted fish should have the ability to protect itself; it wouldn’t do if there were no one in the kitchen who could be trusted.

Looking at Zheng Taijian, so advanced in age, still working in Yuqing Palace, she knew he was not an ordinary person.

While eating, Cheng Wanyun preferred not to have too many people waiting on her. Usually, she only kept Qingxing by her side, but today was different.

“Zheng Taijian, could you tell me how you make this porridge base?” Cheng Wanyun, now interested in keeping him on her side, didn’t dismiss him with just a few words. She waved for Sanbao to come over as well. “Sanbao, what are you standing there for? Come and listen, learn from your master.”

Since she had already decided to take this opportunity, Cheng Wanyun widened her focus and thought more deeply.

Why would someone like Zheng Taijian, at his age, not want to retire outside the palace? The kitchen wasn’t a simple department. After a lifetime of service, he was likely wealthier than her county magistrate father. Which powerful eunuch didn’t have land or property outside the palace? Some even had several concubines. If Zheng Taijian was willing to lower himself to curry favor with a low-ranking, minor gege, he would probably only stay for another two or three years before leaving. Why would he go through so much effort?

Eunuchs without roots were most likely to take on apprentices or adopted sons.

Cheng Wanyun speculated that Sanbao, having been taken under Zheng Taijian’s wing, was likely chosen by him as his “successor,” someone he would depend on for his later years.

Zheng Taijian had put aside his dignity for two reasons: first, he and Sanbao got along well, and he wanted to secure a future for this disciple; second, he had no relatives outside the palace. Once he left, he would be alone. Staying in the palace, with a disciple, old friends, and a position, was surely better than living out his remaining years in solitude.

Therefore, Cheng Wanyun calling Sanbao over was also a subtle test.

To her surprise, Zheng Taijian immediately understood, trembling as he knelt down and kowtowed. “Gege’s great kindness, this servant will never forget.”

With these words, Cheng Wanyun felt reassured and quickly signaled for Sanbao to help Zheng Taijian up.

However, Sanbao, standing aside, loudly replied, “Replying to Gege, this servant has already learned how to make the porridge base from my master in the kitchen. I’ve learned it all. First, we select the best fragrant rice and gently grind it with a stone mill. Master said the rice should break into three pieces, then wash it three or four times. After that, we add oil and salt, mix it well, and simmer it in a clay pot over low heat. We cook it until the rice and water blend together, forming layers that flow outward like petals. Then, we must scoop the porridge water from the heart of the ‘flower,’ which is thick, white, and smooth, like soup…”

Cheng Wanyun looked at him, his dark eyes round and clear, and couldn’t help but reach out and pat his round little head, laughing softly—Zheng Taijian really took good care of his young disciple.

Zheng Taijian scowled and flicked Sanbao’s forehead, but he didn’t use much force, scolding, “You say you’ve learned, but you can’t even explain it properly.”

Sanbao rubbed his forehead, looking rather aggrieved, not understanding where he had gone wrong in his explanation.

Zheng Taijian pulled him aside, his voice coming out between gritted teeth, “Gege doesn’t have time to listen to your boasting…”

The porridge base was something she had already taught them, and she didn’t actually want to hear how they made it; it was just a way to give them a stepping stone, signaling the possibility of “cooperation.”

Who would have known that Sanbao was such an honest child? Well, a person with a good heart would surely be someone she could trust in the future.

At that moment, a message was suddenly brought in, informing them that the Crown Prince was coming to dine. Zheng Taijian quickly pulled his silly disciple aside, bowing repeatedly in gratitude before excusing himself.

Cheng Wanyun, listening to the rain outside, couldn’t help but complain inwardly. She knew that the Crown Prince was always asking about what she was eating. He would pretend to come by casually, but whenever she ate something new that he hadn’t tried before, he would definitely show up, just like a cat drawn to a new scent.

Look at that, even a heavy rain couldn’t stop him.