Jiang Xian sat in her palanquin, listening to Chen Daying place her order.
The quality of life for a Daying or a Changzai was low. If they wanted to eat something decent, they had to pay the Imperial Kitchen extra. Often, there were scraps left over from making pastries for other noble mistresses. If one wasn't picky, a skilled chef could whip up an extra portion from these, a system ripe with opportunities for kickbacks.
Even if you didn't crave extra pastries, if you didn't tip them with heating stove silver, the Imperial Kitchen would dare to send you rotten cabbage leaves slick with congealed oil. When Jiang Xian first entered the palace, she had eaten such food for several days. She didn't mind, though. She would just rinse it with water and eat it anyway. A girl who had fought her way out of a hard rural life could endure any hardship.
