I stared at the bland, greyish vegetables on my plate. My stomach growled, but my tongue protested. In my 21st-century life, I had spent weeks in the field eating canned rations that tasted better than this "noble" breakfast.
"Xiao-Xiao, is the food not to your liking?" Mother asked, her brow furrowed with worry. "I had the kitchen prepare the most tender shoots to help your recovery."
"It's wonderful, Mother," I lied, swallowing a piece of bitter radish. "I just find myself... curious about the kitchen. Perhaps the heat of the stove would help circulate my Qi."
Mother laughed softly, thinking it was a childish whim. But as soon as breakfast was over, I made my way to the back of the Manor.
The kitchen was a chaotic scene of steam and soot. Huge bronze cauldrons sat over wood fires, but everything was being boiled or steamed into oblivion. I scanned the spice jars. Ginger, mallows, and a very coarse, greyish sea salt. That was it. No wonder the food tasted like sadness.
"Miss! You shouldn't be here," the head cook stammered, wiping his hands on a greasy apron.
"The salt is far too bitter," I murmured, staring at the grey, unrefined crystals in the kitchen. "It needs to be filtered"
"Miss, are you still hungry?" Qin-er asked, her brow furrowing with concern.
"No," I replied, wiping my hands. "I am merely looking for what is missing."
I turned to her as we walked back toward the main courtyard. "Qin-er, are there foreign traders in the capital? Men who travel from the far borders with goods we've never seen?"
She looked at me curiously. "You mean the merchants from the western tribes? Of course, Miss. They bring strange trinkets, but their prices are so high only the Imperial family and some nobles usually bothers with them."
I nodded. I needed to see if there are also "strange spices" if I was going to fix the flavorless misery of this era. I secured my mother's permission to head to the market, provided I took a carriage and a full contingent of guards.
In this age, a noble child was a prime target for traffickers, and I had no intention of ending up in another coffin—metaphorical or otherwise.
The market was a sensory overload. It was a bustling maze of silk stalls, bamboo weavers, and street performers. But as I scanned the crowds, I felt a twinge of disappointment. There were few foreign merchants today, and most were selling little more than glass beads and low-quality wool.
"Miss! Look!" Qin-er pointed excitedly at a shop with a line trailing down the street. "That is the pastry shop where I buy your favorite sweets. Even the princesses from imperial palace wait hours for their fortune cookies."
I looked at the long line of noble carriages and shrugged. "A sweet that requires such a long wait often leaves a bitter aftertaste in the soul, Qin-er. We have better things to do." As someone who have eaten thousands of flavors, what could possibly arouse my appetite in this era?
After mapping out the market's layout—essential for my living well goal—I returned to the Tang Manor. Waiting for me in my courtyard was the Head Butler, a man whose face was as unreadable as an ancient scroll.
"Eldest Miss," Butler Li said, bowing. "The Madam has instructed that you choose an additional servant to assist you. Since you... dismissed... your previous staff, your courtyard has been quite empty."
"Dismissed" was a polite way of saying the 'old' Mo-Xian had chased them away with screams and thrown teacups. Most were likely celebrating their escape in other departments of the manor.
"Bring them in," I said.
Butler Li led in eight girls, aged thirteen to fifteen. Most kept their heads low, their shoulders trembling. I walked past the ones who looked too eager to please and stopped in front of the most timid-looking girl in the line. She was clean, her hands were steady, and she didn't look up to catch my eye.
In a house full of vipers, the "timid" ones are often the best observers.
"What is your name?" I asked.
"Miss... this servant was only recently hired by the manor. I do not yet have a formal name," she whispered.
"Then from today, you are Shu-er," I declared.
"I hope you can bring some peace to this courtyard"
"This servant thanks the Young Miss for her kindness," she said, her voice steadying.
"Qin-er, help her familiarize herself with our routines," I instructed.
As they walked away, I felt a presence behind me. Ruo-Lan had appeared, as if summoned by the scent of a new pawn on the board.
"Choosing a new maid, Sister?" Ruo-Lan asked, her voice like silk over a blade. "She looks so... fragile. I hope she can handle your 'vivid' personality better than the last ones did."
I turned, offering her a calm, distant smile. "A sturdy tree often breaks in a storm, Second sister, while the flexible reed survives. I find that those who speak the least often see the most. Don't you agree?"
Ruo-Lan's smile didn't reach her eyes. "A clever thought. Though sometimes, a reed is just a reed, meant to be stepped on."
"And sometimes," I countered, "a reed is used to make the paper that records history. I suppose we shall see which she is."
I didn't wait for her reply. I walked into my room, leaving her standing in the dust. I had a new servant,The "ugly" sister was starting to build an army, one "timid" girl at a time.