Chapter 2 - Chapter 2 – A Weak Girl in the Imperial Kitchen

The rooster's crow pierced through Chun Hua's exhausted sleep at what felt like the middle of the night. Around her, the other servant girls were already stirring, hastily pulling on their rough brown robes and tying their hair back with frayed ribbons. "Move, Li Xuan!" A sharp elbow jabbed into her ribs. "First day back and you're already lazing about?" Chun Hua bolted upright, her body protesting every movement. The events of the previous day crashed back into her consciousness—the cooking competition, her death, waking up in this ancient world as Li Xuan. She had hoped it was all an elaborate nightmare, but the aching in her muscles and the coarse fabric scratching against her skin confirmed the harsh reality. "I'm up," she mumbled, struggling to her feet. The other girls were already heading toward the kitchen, chattering amongst themselves and completely ignoring her existence. The pre-dawn kitchen was a hive of activity. Servants scurried between stations, hauling water from wells, stoking fires, and beginning preparations for the day's first meal. The head cook, whose name she'd learned was Master Ding, stood in the center like a general surveying his troops. "Li Xuan!" His voice boomed across the space. "Since yesterday, you seemed capable of basic knife work, you'll be on vegetable preparation again. Don't make me regret not sending you back to washing dishes." A snicker came from behind her. "Looks like our clumsy Li Xuan has been promoted," said a girl named Mei Lin, one of the senior kitchen servants. Her tone dripped with false sweetness. "Try not to cut yourself. We can't afford to have blood in the Emperor's food." More laughter rippled through the nearby servants. Chun Hua clenched her fists, biting back the sharp retort that came naturally. In her previous life, she would have fired anyone who spoke to her with such disrespect. Here, she was powerless. "I'll be careful," she said instead, forcing her voice to remain level. Mei Lin's eyes narrowed, clearly disappointed by the lack of reaction. "See that you are. Some of us have worked hard to earn our positions here, unlike others who got in through... family connections." Family connections? Chun Hua filed that information away. Li Xuan's presence in the palace wasn't entirely random, though she still had no clear picture of the girl's background. The vegetable preparation station was set up in a corner near one of the smaller hearths, where the morning light would eventually filter through a high window. The tools were even more primitive than she'd remembered—dull knives, wooden cutting boards stained with years of use, and baskets of vegetables that looked like they'd seen better days. As she began her work, Chun Hua couldn't help but catalog all the ways this kitchen violated every food safety standard she'd ever learned. Raw meat was prepared on the same surfaces as vegetables, with nothing more than a quick wipe in between. Servants tasted food directly from serving spoons and then continued using them. Vegetables were stored in conditions that would have had health inspectors shutting down any modern restaurant within hours. Yet somehow, this system worked. It had been working for centuries. "What are you doing?" Mei Lin's voice was sharp with suspicion. Chun Hua looked up from the carrots she'd been dicing. Without thinking, she'd fallen into her professional habits—uniform cuts, precise technique, organizing ingredients by type and preparation stage. "Cutting vegetables," she replied simply. "Not like that, you're not." Mei Lin snatched up one of the carrot pieces, examining it closely. "Since when do you know how to make perfect cuts? And what's this nonsense about separating everything into little piles?" Other servants began to gather around, drawn by Mei Lin's hostile tone. Chun Hua realized she'd made a mistake. Li Xuan was supposed to be incompetent, and here she was displaying skills that would have impressed even her sous chefs. "I... I've been practicing," she said weakly. "Practicing?" Mei Lin's laugh was harsh. "Where? When? You've been unconscious or working in this kitchen for months. There's nowhere to practice anything." "Maybe she's finally learned to pay attention," suggested another servant, though she sounded doubtful. "Or maybe," Mei Lin's voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, "she's been sneaking food and ingredients to practice with. Theft is a serious offense, Li Xuan. Serious enough to get you thrown out of the palace entirely." The accusation hung in the air like smoke from the cooking fires. Chun Hua felt her cheeks burn with indignation. In her previous life, she'd never had to defend her skills or prove her legitimacy. Her reputation spoke for itself. Here, excellence was suspicious. "I haven't stolen anything," she said firmly. "I just... watched the senior cooks more carefully yesterday. Tried to copy what they were doing." Master Ding's approach ended the confrontation before it could escalate further. "What's all this chattering about? The morning meal won't prepare itself while you stand around gossiping like market wives." "Master Ding," Mei Lin said with exaggerated concern, "Li Xuan's vegetable cutting seems... different today. I thought you should know." The head cook examined Chun Hua's work, his weathered face revealing nothing. She held her breath, wondering if her improved skills would be seen as a threat or an asset. "Adequate," he pronounced finally. "Perhaps being unconscious for a day knocked some sense into her. As long as the work gets done properly, I don't care if she learned it in a dream." Relief flooded through Chun Hua's system. Master Ding moved on to inspect other stations, leaving her with a reprieve from Mei Lin's suspicions. But as the morning progressed, she realized that her problems were far from over. The other servants continued to watch her with a mixture of curiosity and hostility. Every efficient movement, every instinctive improvement to her technique, was noted and discussed in hushed whispers. The physical demands of the work were taking their toll as well. Li Xuan's body was softer, weaker than Chun Hua's had been. Her muscles weren't accustomed to the constant standing, lifting, and repetitive motions. By midday, her hands were cramping, and her lower back ached continuously. "Struggling already?" Mei Lin appeared beside her during a brief break, carrying a cup of weak tea. "I suppose old habits die hard. You always were the weakest one here." Chun Hua accepted the tea gratefully, despite the mockery that came with it. The liquid was barely flavored, more like hot water with a few leaves stirred in, but it was warm and wet. "Tell me something, Li Xuan," Mei Lin continued, her tone conversational but with an edge underneath. "How does a girl who could barely peel potatoes without cutting herself suddenly start working like she's been trained by the imperial cooks?" "I don't know what you mean." "Don't you?" Mei Lin leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Because there are rumors about you. About how you got into this palace. Some people think your family has... unusual connections." There it was again—the hint about Li Xuan's background. Chun Hua kept her expression neutral, but her mind raced with questions. What kind of connections? Who was Li Xuan's family? And why was she working as a lowly kitchen servant if she had influential relatives? "I'm just trying to do my job," Chun Hua said carefully. "Of course you are." Mei Lin's smile was sharp as a blade. "Just remember, Li Xuan. The palace has ways of dealing with servants who forget their place. Ways that don't involve the Emperor's justice." The threat was clear enough. Chun Hua nodded acknowledgment, not trusting herself to speak without revealing her growing anger. As the day wore on, she began to understand the brutal hierarchy that governed life in the imperial kitchen. Master Ding answered the kitchen supervisor, who answered the palace steward, who answered various levels of officials she couldn't even name. Below Master Ding were the senior cooks, then the experienced servants like Mei Lin, and finally the bottom tier, which included Li Xuan. Power was everything here. Without it, you were subject to the whims of anyone above you in the hierarchy. And Chun Hua, despite all her culinary expertise and business acumen, was at the very bottom. But she wasn't defeated. Not yet. During the afternoon lull, while most of the servants rested or gossiped, she found herself alone at her station. The kitchen was quieter now, with only the essential prep work continuing for the evening meal. She picked up her knife and began working on a basket of turnips, letting her mind wander as her hands moved automatically. The rhythm was soothing, familiar despite the primitive tools. This was something she understood, something she excelled at, regardless of which world she found herself in. "Impressive technique." The voice made her jump. She turned to find an elderly servant watching her, his face weathered but kind. Unlike the others, he didn't seem hostile or suspicious. "I'm sorry?" she said. "Your knife work," he explained, nodding toward the perfectly uniform turnip pieces. "Very precise. Very clean. Takes years to develop that kind of consistency." Chun Hua felt the heat rise in her cheeks. "I've been practicing." "Have you?" The old man's eyes twinkled with something that might have been amusement. "Interesting. Most people practice by making mistakes and gradually improving. You seem to have skipped straight to mastery." He was too perceptive. Chun Hua set down her knife, trying to look appropriately humble and confused. "My name is Uncle Chen," the man continued. "I've been working in these kitchens for forty years. Started as a pot washer when I was younger than you are now." "Forty years," Chun Hua repeated, awed despite herself. "Long enough to see many servants come and go. Long enough to recognize when someone is... unusual." His gaze was steady, not accusatory but not entirely friendly either. "The question is, Li Xuan, what makes you so unusual?" Before she could answer, the kitchen erupted back into activity as preparation for the evening meal began in earnest. Uncle Chen melted back into the crowd of servants, leaving Chun Hua with more questions than answers. As darkness fell and the kitchen finally began to quiet after the day's final service, she made her way back to her small sleeping alcove. Her body ached in places she'd forgotten could ache, and her hands were raw from gripping the rough knife handle all day. But something had changed since yesterday. She was beginning to understand the rules of this world, the invisible currents of power and prejudice that governed daily life. More importantly, she was beginning to see opportunities. Her skills were noticed, whether she wanted them to be or not. The challenge would be turning that attention into advancement rather than suspicion. As she settled onto her thin mattress, the jade bracelet caught a sliver of moonlight from the tiny window. For just a moment, it seemed to glow with inner warmth. Tomorrow, she decided, she would be more careful. But she wouldn't hide her abilities entirely. Somehow, she had to find a way to rise above her circumstances without triggering the kind of dangerous attention that could get her expelled from the palace—or worse. She was Chun Hua, even if the world knew her as Li Xuan. And she would not spend her life as anyone's victim.