PQE Chapter 15

“Did Mother Consort say that your nail art skills are exceptional?”

“I only know a little, it’s my fortune if it pleases the Consort,” Fu Chen replied formally.

He had no intention of currying favor, his priority was to live peacefully and happily, and to proceed cautiously and steadily.

“Mother Consort appreciates you,” Shao Anlin mentioned casually.

Fu Chen didn’t know how much Shao Anlin knew. Perhaps the Consort mentioned him in passing, or maybe she remembered him from the last time she saw him vomiting. But the Third Prince would never guess that the Consort’s “appreciation” wasn’t for his makeshift talents.

“Can you trim and dye beards?” Shao Anlin asked.

It seemed that in the eyes of these masters, if one knew one skill, they should know them all.

“Your Highness, I am not skilled in that.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you are a humble person?”

“Your Highness is the first.” The premise of being praised for being humble is that the two people are at the same level of status.

“Then go and try.”

“…Yes.” Whether he could or couldn’t made no difference.

Fu Chen knew he had no choice in the matter.

Fu Chen always felt that the Third Prince treated him more casually, or perhaps more harshly.

The aura of warmth that he showed to everyone else diminished significantly when he saw Fu Chen. Fu Chen didn’t know if he was being overly sensitive, but his professional instincts often made him keenly aware of others’ emotions. He couldn’t blame it on being naturally unlikable.

In the Jin Dynasty, the belief that one’s body and hair were gifts from one’s parents was prevalent. Unlike hair, which could be tied up, beards were always trimmed. Recently, it became fashionable among scholars and officials to trim their beards regularly. Those with well-trimmed beards were called “handsome bearded men.”

Older men especially considered dyeing their beards a trend, with a poem saying: “Dyeing my beard to deceive myself,” meaning that even though their beards were white and they were old, they dyed them black to comfort themselves.

This trend, like nail art, became fashionable among the aristocracy and nobility of the Jin Dynasty.

When Shao Anlin brought Fu Chen to wait outside the Imperial Study, he broke into a cold sweat.

Shao Anlin couldn’t find a suitable person, so he chose him?

How many people in this world could use a knife on the Emperor, even if it was just to trim a beard?

Bang!

Something was thrown to the ground, and the Emperor’s furious voice rang out, “These scoundrels! Even the disaster relief funds were stolen! What use are they? Dismiss them all! Dismiss them! Investigate thoroughly!”

Even standing outside, Fu Chen could hear the Emperor’s words, showing how angry the Emperor was. Being an Emperor wasn’t an easy job. Orders given to subordinates often got twisted as they passed down the chain, and by the time they reached the people, the message might have changed several times. Many aspired to be wise rulers, but few succeeded.

An official hurried out, looking disheveled. Fu Chen glanced at him and then lowered his eyes.

The previous dynasty had strict rules for eunuchs, stating that they should not interfere in politics, associate with officials, or invite non-royal people. Violations could result in fines or exile. These rules were even more detailed in the Jin Dynasty and continued to this day.

So Fu Chen only remembered the official’s appearance but had no idea who he was.

The Third Prince went in, and Fu Chen couldn’t hear what was said, but he could feel the Emperor’s mood improving. The atmosphere in the Imperial Study relaxed, and the Emperor even laughed, “Since Anlin recommended you, I must see if you’re as good as he says. Let the little eunuch in.”

Today, it was An Zhonghai’s turn to serve. Having just endured the Emperor’s wrath, he was still a bit shaken. Serving the Emperor meant facing his moods at any time, and the risk to one’s life was high, but one never got used to it.

He saw Fu Chen waiting outside and looked at him a few more times.

Fu Chen thought this eunuch probably recognized him.

Seeing the cat in Fu Chen’s arms, he said, “Isn’t this Tangyuan? Give it to me.”

Handing over the cat, An Zhonghai gave the meowing kitten to a nearby eunuch, “Take it to Fuxi Palace.”

“Go in quickly.” He led Fu Chen inside.

Fu Chen entered with his head lowered and body bent, and when he reached the appropriate spot, he performed a grand salute, “This servant greets Your Majesty. Long live the Emperor.”

“Rise. Anlin said your beard trimming and dyeing skills are good?” The Emperor seemed in a good mood.

“This servant dares not claim expertise but is willing to try.”

“You seem steady. If you don’t do well, go to the Ministry of Internal Affairs for punishment.” The Emperor smiled lightly, “You look familiar. Where have I seen you before?”

Fu Chen wouldn’t mention seeing him in Weiyang Palace, which would remind the Emperor of unpleasant things.

He chose the safest truth, “This servant once provided the formula for Guilingji.”

The Emperor clapped his hands, “Oh yes, you’re that little eunuch. The sages haven’t figured it out yet. You should go and take a look.”

The sages were those who made elixirs for the Emperor, mainly the imperial master and famous Taoists. The Emperor’s efforts in seeking immortality were evident. Although Fu Chen provided the formula, the exact quantities of each ingredient required repeated adjustments.

“If it works, you’ll be richly rewarded!”

“This servant obeys.” The reward was just words; the Emperor wouldn’t lavishly reward a servant for minor contributions. To them, it was the servant’s duty. The only difference was that the Emperor would remember his face. For most palace servants, being recognized by the Emperor was more important than rewards. There were thousands of eunuchs, and being remembered by the Emperor was a significant achievement. Li Xiangying once used this excuse to send them to Weiyang Palace.

“Anlin, investigate disaster relief. If there’s any trouble, deal with it. I will support you.”

The Emperor trusted that Shao Anlin wouldn’t favor any side, so he felt reassured giving the task to the Third Prince.

Before leaving, Shao Anlin glanced at Fu Chen, who was kneeling obediently. This little eunuch’s manners were impeccable, almost invisible.

After receiving his orders, Fu Chen was taken to the tea room next to the Imperial Study to prepare for the Emperor’s beard trimming.

The Emperor’s beard trimming was scheduled every twelve days at noon. The ancients believed that the sun at its peak could dispel the evil spirits of the knife.

Usually, no matter how close the Emperor was to someone, he wouldn’t let a lowly servant near him with a knife, especially near his throat. This showed the Emperor’s favor for the Third Prince. However, the Third Prince’s feelings for the Emperor were unclear, as he casually chose someone to deal with the Emperor.

Beard trimming was a meticulous task, often guarded by guards. The tension could lead to mistakes, and many servants had been punished for errors. Unable to find anyone, Shao Anlin sought an old master from Luguyuan, but he had passed away, and no replacement was found. If he could refuse, Fu Chen wouldn’t step into the Imperial Study.

Serving the Emperor closely was a thankless task. If done well, it was expected; if done poorly, it could incur the Emperor’s wrath. Finding someone skilled was difficult, and even then, the results weren’t guaranteed.

First, a series of checks ensured he had no harmful objects.

Then he changed into special clothes for beard trimming, including a hat and shoes. Fu Chen took the mahogany box from An Zhonghai, removed the blade, and under the watchful eyes of the guards, began trimming the Emperor’s beard. His focused gaze and fluid movements were pleasing to watch. His calm and confident demeanor compensated for any lack of skill, fooling outsiders. His modern experience allowed him to shape the beard precisely, thanks to his past practice of cutting his wife’s hair. His wife once joked that a husband like Fu Chen, skilled in everything, was hard to find.

Fu Chen gradually became adept, his cool fingers moving smoothly on the Emperor’s face. The professional-looking beard trimming didn’t touch any inappropriate spots, and the sharp blade worked efficiently. The initially impatient Emperor eventually relaxed and enjoyed the process.

An Zhonghai, holding a basin to wash the Emperor’s face, was amazed. The Emperor usually grew impatient during beard trimming due to the lengthy and detailed process, but this time he seemed to enjoy it.

Fortunately, the Emperor didn’t plan to dye his beard, saving Fu Chen some work.

Afterward, the Emperor’s morning anger had subsided. He kept looking at his perfectly trimmed beard in the mirror, increasingly satisfied. With the triennial selection approaching, the Emperor was more concerned about his appearance. “What do you think?”

An Zhonghai, skilled at reading expressions, immediately praised, “Your Majesty looks like you’re in your twenties, like brothers with the Third Prince.”

The Emperor, pleased, waved his hand, “Come back in twelve days.”

Fu Chen became the designated beard trimmer, unexpectedly rewarded with five taels of silver, equivalent to five months’ allowance. The reward was secondary; the important thing was surviving unscathed. He never imagined his superficial skills would earn such appreciation.

Leaving the Imperial Study, a group of ministers came to report an invasion by the Yangwu people from the northwest. Fu Chen had seen these ruthless invaders when he first arrived, their ambitions clear.

These ministers all walked in with worried looks on their faces. Fu Chen took a quick look and, combining the information he had received over the past few years, gradually built a preliminary network of relationships in his mind.

Arriving at the corridor, An Zhonghai encouraged Fu Chen a few words, which was somewhat different from the perfunctory response in front of Fuxi Palace. Fu Chen naturally responded respectfully. On the way back, Fu Chen weighed the silver in his hand. It seemed that the money owed to Wang Fugui could be paid in advance. He did not use Chen Zuoren’s savings, but kept them in the original place.

All the way back to Yeting Lake, this time the journey was safe and sound. While cleaning the lakeside, Fu Chen saw a shoe. Whether meeting the master or walking in the palace, the servants usually can only look at the ground, so they will instinctively remember the shoes to distinguish the masters of each palace.

He had a good memory and had seen this pair of shoes before, but there were several people in the palace who wore this style and he was not sure which one it was.

Looking at the tranquil Yeting Lake, the summer breeze gently brushed across the water, creating ripples on the surface. He just hoped that it was not the person he was thinking of.

Putting the shoe into his clothes, Fu Chen pretended not to notice it and continued to complete the cleaning task meticulously.

Until the evening, after finishing his work, Fu Chen took some small change and went to the dining room to find Lao Bahu, who loved to take advantage of small opportunities. Wang Fugui also asked him for the wine last time. The two chatted for a while. Fu Chen was a tight-lipped person, like a saw. Whenever Lao Bahu met Fu Chen, he would pour out all his daily complaints and gossip to him.

This allowed Fu Chen to indirectly learn a lot of news, such as the Empress preparing new clothes for the little prince in her belly today, Concubine Qi returning the food she had sent several times, and someone in the palace asking their kitchen to work overtime to make soup for the Emperor tonight…

It was not until Lao Bahu had to go on his next mission that Fu Chen took the packaged fresh snacks and left.

He carefully avoided being seen and heard along the way, and sneaked into Jingyang Palace while the guards were changing shifts…

After listening to the noise inside for a while and making sure that the eunuch sent by the queen had already left, he walked in. The Seventh Prince was an abandoned child, stupid and disfigured, and his mother was banished to the cold palace. It was impossible for him to turn the tables.

This was a fact recognized by everyone in the palace, so naturally no one would come to this place. Fu Chen saw the broken bowls in the courtyard under the palace lanterns, and the food still mixed with yellow liquid, and felt sad.

There was no one in the courtyard. He called out softly a few times, but no one responded.

He searched room after room, almost all the places where he might have lurked, how could he not be there?

Fu Chen didn’t know how long a fool could survive in the harem, so it all depended on the Seventh Prince’s luck.

When Fu Chen found the woodshed, a cup of tea time had passed.

Looking at the shabby wooden door with several thick chains on it, he knocked on the door, but there was still no sound from inside.

He searched outside for a long time and finally found the key under a broken jar. After opening the door, a sour and moldy smell emanated from inside, which was very pungent.

The room was very dark, with old wooden blocks scattered on the floor and cobwebs on the walls. It was very shabby and compared to the main hall, it seemed like a forgotten corner of the palace.

A shadow huddled in the corner, as quiet as death.

Fu Chen walked over carefully and squatted down, “Seventh Prince?”

His voice seemed to have suddenly ignited the fuse of the corpse. Shao Huachi swung his arms wildly, as if he was trying to drive something away. “Ah—Ah!”

The piercing scream pierced the eardrum, and Shao Huachi’s sharp nails quickly scratched Fu Chen’s arm, leaving blood marks immediately.

Fu Chen didn’t care about Shao Huachi’s crazy attack at this time, and held him in his arms. Although Shao Huachi was a few years older, he was not strong, and Fu Chen locked him tightly.

After struggling for several times, he still couldn’t shake Fu Chen off. Shao Huachi was shaking violently, and seemed to be very scared. Half of his ghostly face was covered with scabs and blood, which looked even more disgusting than the first time they met.

However, Fu Chen seemed not to notice it.

When Shao Huachi calmed down, he gently soothed him from behind with one hand, “Don’t be afraid, it’s me, do you remember me?”