Qing Dynasty Palace Maid: I Just Want to Leave Wor...

📅 Calendar: Kangxi 37th Year | Mid-Autumn Decade

📍 Location: 4th Prince Yinzhen's private study (the Prince's Study)

👤 Your Status: Palace Rank: Personal Maid | Silver Taels: 5 | Attributes: Beauty 85, Wit 72, Constitution 60, Ambition 80 | Skills: Tea Art 50, Needlework 20, Bookkeeping 45, Socializing 30

🤝 Relationships: Prince Yinzhen's Favor: 15 | Ally Closeness (Head Maid Wang): 30

The sandalwood incense curling from a bronze tripod in the corner of the study wraps around you as you step across the carved lacquer threshold, your cotton servant shoes making no sound against the polished cypress floor.

Head Maid Wang, whose stern gaze has haunted you through every day of your palace training, bows low at the waist before the figure bent over the large calligraphy desk at the far end of the room.

The 4th Prince Yinzhen does not look up immediately, his brush sweeping slow, firm strokes across a sheet of rice paper spread before him; dark ink bleeds into the fiber, forming characters that speak to his lifelong mantra of rigorous duty.

Only when he sets his brush down in its ceramic holder, wiping a fleck of stray ink from the cuff of his dark blue imperial robe embroidered with five-clawed golden dragons that glint in slanted autumn sunlight, does he lift his sharp, dark eyes to meet yours in the reflection of the bronze mirror mounted on the wall behind his desk.

"This is the new personal maid assigned to you, Master," Head Maid Wang says, her voice even and deferential, stripped of the sharp tone she uses to scold maids who burn tea or mangle embroidery.

"Niohuru Xiu, selected by Consort De for your household; she scored highest in her class in tea preparation and court etiquette."

Yinzhen turns slowly in his sandalwood chair, his gaze flicking over you once, quick and assessing, as if cataloguing every detail of your neat bun, plain indigo servant robes, and the way you hold your hands folded tight at your waist to hide their slight tremor.

He says nothing for a long moment, the only sound the rustle of osmanthus branches outside the lattice windows, until he nods his head once, a sharp, almost imperceptible tilt of his chin.

"I asked for fresh Biluochun to be brewed at midday," he says, his voice low and cool, carrying none of the warm charisma you’ve heard other maids gush about when speaking of his half-brother, the 8th Prince.

"It is midday."

Head Maid Wang nudges you almost imperceptibly with her elbow, her own eyes wide with a silent warning not to fail this first test.

She steps back to the doorway, leaving you alone in the center of the large study, the small porcelain tea set on the side table just ten paces from you, the caddy of Biluochun tea leaves sitting right beside it.

The weight of the Prince’s gaze presses on you, and you know one misstep here could send you to the scullery to wash pots for the rest of your service, or worse.