The life swap begins with Consort Hua becoming Lady Qin.

"He agreed, saying that we would get married when I was twenty-five and released from the palace."

When Shen Meizhuang told An Lingrong about this, her expression was unusually hesitant.

An Lingrong was taken aback for a moment, then genuinely happy for her: "Really?"

Shen Meizhuang nodded, her eyes shimmering with a rare tenderness: "Really?"

An Lingrong's heart also warmed.

"That's wonderful. Someone like you deserves such a thoughtful gesture."

As she spoke, she seemed to suddenly remember something and said earnestly, "When you leave the palace, I will embroider a veil for you."

Shen Meizhuang was taken aback, then her smile deepened: "Okay."

An Lingrong smiled contentedly.

She sat with Shen Meizhuang for a while longer, and when she saw that it was almost time, she got up to take her leave.

An Lingrong returned to Yuqing Palace.

She now lives a very stable life in the palace. Although she is still the same person who speaks softly and does not compete for anything, because she has been by Yanzhi's side for a long time and has been assigned to take care of Prince Hongwei and Princess Ningshou, everyone treats her with increasing respect.

Now everyone knows that Aunt An may seem gentle and mild-mannered, but she is actually the most resourceful and trusted by the Empress.

She entered Yuqing Palace, but instead of resting, she went to check the furnishings in the rooms of the two young masters as usual.

She personally smelled everything from the desk, the fireplace, and the bed curtains to the snacks, and even the little tassels on the curtain hooks.

It's no secret that her nose is more sensitive than most people's.

Some scents might seem faint to others, but she could detect exactly what ingredients were mixed in, whether an ingredient was added too much or missing—nothing could escape her notice.

After confirming that everything was in order, he nodded and turned to the palace servants, saying, "Keep everything as usual, no need to change anything."

Everyone responded in unison.

One of the young palace maids, who was quite clever, saw that An Lingrong's expression had softened and flattered her with a smile, saying, "Auntie is more careful than ordinary people, and her intuition is naturally better than others. No wonder Her Majesty trusts her so much."

This sounds like the most common and flattering thing you could say.

An Lingrong simply glanced at her calmly.

That palace maid was transferred here half a year ago; her name is Lingdang.

She wasn't exceptionally beautiful, but she was quite adept at getting along with people, had a sweet tongue, and a quick wit. Lately, she had also gained favor with the First Prince.

Logically speaking, such palace servants are not unusual. There are plenty of people in the palace who want to get ahead. Knowing how to please their masters and how to read people's expressions is not unusual at all.

But An Lingrong felt that she wasn't the kind of person who wanted to climb the social ladder just because of ambition.

The way she looked at people, the way she spoke, and the way she deliberately tried to please her didn't seem like she was after her future prospects with her master; it was more like—

It was aimed at her.

An Lingrong did not expose him immediately.

She nodded very lightly and then looked away.

If someone truly has ulterior motives, what they fear most is not others' suspicion, but others' refusal to let them get close. Rather than telling her to find another opportunity, it's better to simply give her the way and see what she's really up to.

So from then on, An Lingrong deliberately lowered her guard, as if she had been coaxed into opening her mouth by Lingdang's sweet words, allowing her to serve her closely, and occasionally asking her to help pass a thread, fetch a sachet, or flip through a book.

As expected, Lingdang became even more enthusiastic and proactive towards her, which made Baojuan quite jealous.

Lingdang, however, didn't take it seriously. She said she was interested in fragrance and wanted to learn. Occasionally, when An Lingrong had some free time, she would bring her some common floral and fruity scents and ask her how to distinguish them and how to blend them. An Lingrong patiently answered all her questions, and even explained to her in detail the basics of incense.

After several times, Lingdang seemed to believe more and more in her good temper and became bolder.

On this day, An Lingrong was sitting by the window grinding a newly acquired spice, with Lingdang standing beside her sifting the ash. Suddenly, as if casually, she asked, "In this world, is there any incense that can make someone lose their mind, or even their life, without them even realizing it?"

That was a question asked too quickly and too directly.

An ordinary person might feel a jolt in their heart, or subconsciously become defensive, or subconsciously give an answer.

An Lingrong's hands moved without the slightest lapse in concentration, her mind racing, and she answered just as quickly: "Of course. Fragrances and medicines are inherently inseparable; if properly blended, they can aid sleep and cure illnesses; conversely, they can also cause considerable harm."

Bell's eyes lit up slightly, as if she was very interested, and she quickly asked, "I've also heard that some things aren't poisonous when they're separate, but they can become toxic when they come together. If incense is used for a long time, will it have the same effect?"

This time, An Lingrong seemed genuinely interested in her words, slightly pausing her actions and giving her a thoughtful look.

"That's an interesting way to put it."

She smiled gently: "Learning is endless, and there are some things I may not know completely. How about this, go to the library and find me two books on spices. I'll study them carefully, and if I gain any insights, I'll tell you."

Upon hearing this, Lingdang seemed to have received some great permission and hurriedly replied, "Yes, this servant will go right away."

She left quickly and returned quickly.

In less than half an hour, he indeed came in carrying two thick booklets.

At this time, An Lingrong had already collected the spices and laid out the needles, thread and fabric, intending to make a hand warmer cover for Princess Ningshou.

The princess complained that the patterns made in the palace were not lively enough, and insisted that she embroider them herself, saying that Aunt An's embroidered rabbits, raccoons, and sparrows were the most unique.

She was small, but still greedy, and insisted on having all the patterns embroidered on one cover.

The idea was that this would save her the difficult task of making decisions every morning.

An Lingrong found it amusing, but she still prepared to do as instructed.

When she saw Lingdang return with the book, she only glanced at it, nodded, and said, "Leave it here, I'll read it when I have time."

The bell rang in response, and without daring to urge them, it carefully put the books away and left.

As soon as the door closed, the room fell silent, and An Lingrong's expression immediately softened.

She put down her needlework, holding the two booklets in her hands without opening them. She carefully examined the edges and spines, making sure there were no hidden compartments or seams before bringing them to her nose to smell.

The paper and ink smelled strong, there was little dust, and none of the musty smell that had accumulated on the old wooden shelves of the library over the years.

This is not an old book. Nor is it a collection of books.

An Lingrong was certain.

She patiently smelled both books and carefully examined the marks left from the most frequently turned pages.

A moment later, An Lingrong opened one of the books and, following the scent of ink and the unconscious oil and slight sweat from her hands, accurately found two pages.

Each of those items had a recipe for a particular incense.

One flavor is called Lingtai Fangcun Fragrance.

One of them is a warm and affectionate fragrance with ylang-ylang as the main note.

She carefully wrote down the recipe, then gently closed the book and put it back in its place.

As night fell and she was left alone in the room, An Lingrong took out the family incense recipe she had brought with her when she entered the palace from the bottom of the trunk. By the light of the lamp and her memory, she carefully compared it.

The fragrance of incense wafts from the heart.

She wasn't entirely unfamiliar with the name.

Ancient books record that this fragrance has the effect of calming the mind and spirit, and has a miraculous effect of helping those who practice Buddhism and meditation to enter a state of deep concentration. Therefore, since ancient times, it has often been called a rare fragrance by eminent monks and scholars who are devoted to Buddhist teachings.

How could such incense have a killing effect?