Chapter 16: Why me?!

“…”

“…”

Liu Ruyan stared at their battered forms when they arrived. Chen Mei and Lan Yue returned her gaze, each of them carrying a different blend of guilt, exhaustion, and apprehension. The morning courtyard was quiet, only the occasional rustle of bamboo leaves or distant clatter of chores breaking the stillness. For a long moment, silence lingered like a heavy fog.

Lan Yue cleared her throat and, forcing herself into motion, set the wooden bucket of leftovers on the table. Her laugh came out awkward, strained.

“We brought the mistress’ breakfast… haha.”

The words sounded hollow even to her own ears. She could already see Zhao Lingxi’s sharp, calculating gaze landing on the cold, congealed porridge and shriveled vegetables. The shiver running down her spine was involuntary. It wasn’t their fault; the estate’s kitchen staff were careless and unruly. Still… facing Zhao Lingxi’s disapproval was enough to make even the boldest servant quake.

“What happened to you?!” Liu Ruyan exclaimed, rushing forward. Her hands hovered over Chen Mei’s shoulders as she inspected the bruises and scrapes. Chen Mei looked fragile, wronged, lips trembling, as if the smallest touch might shatter her entirely.

“It’s… it’s the kitchen staff,” Chen Mei whispered, her voice quivering. “They… they bullied us!”

Lan Yue’s eyes lingered on Chen Mei’s pitiful form in Liu Ruyan’s protective hold. She recalled the sharp, cold glance Chen Mei had given her earlier—a warning that crossed the line between fragility and cunning.

Never cross her…

This girl was no ordinary sweet character. She was a white lotus—fragile, yes, but with an edge of careful calculation buried beneath the tears.

Chen Mei sniffled, brushing a stray tear from her cheek. “Where… where is the mistress?”

“In the back garden pavilion,” Liu Ruyan said, exasperated. “And that… bitch is here, with her other sisters.”

Lan Yue bit her lip nervously. “Coming to cause trouble early in the morning? Then what should we do with the breakfast?”

Liu Ruyan’s eyes narrowed at the bucket. “We can’t serve the mistress this filth.” With a swift motion, she dumped the scraps into the corner refuse pit. The wet, unpleasant splash echoed slightly in the silent courtyard. She turned sharply to Lan Yue. “We need to prepare something proper. You!”

Lan Yue froze. “Me?”

“You will go steal food from the kitchen for our mistress.”

Lan Yue’s eyes widened in horror. “What? Are you serious?! If I get caught… it would ruin me! And worse—it would stain her ladyship’s reputation!”

Liu Ruyan’s lips pressed into a thin line. She considered it for a long moment before nodding slowly. “True. If you’re caught, it would ruin her ladyship’s reputation even further.”

A simultaneous sigh of frustration escaped all three of them.

Chen Mei stepped forward timidly. “We don’t need to steal. There’s still stock in the servant storehouse. Some old rice, eggs, dried jujubes and ginger—they’re meant for emergencies.”

Lan Yue’s eyes brightened. “You’re brilliant.”

Liu Ruyan nodded sharply. “Then we work together. Quickly.”

—

The three moved with quiet efficiency, whispering only when necessary. Lan Yue washed rice in cold well water, her fingers numb but practiced. Chen Mei cracked eggs with precision, her earlier fragility now replaced by concentration. Liu Ruyan sliced ginger and arranged vegetables with sharp, commanding movements.

“Careful with the eggs!” Liu Ruyan muttered. “Don’t drop one, or it’s your head!”

Lan Yue’s hands shook slightly as she handled the fragile shells. “I’m… I’m fine!”

Chen Mei snorted softly, almost laughing despite the tense atmosphere. “You’re acting like it’s an enemy soldier,” she teased.

Lan Yue blinked. “It might as well be! If Mistress eats broken eggs, it’s my death sentence!”

The three girls chuckled softly, the tension easing in small, human bursts. Even in a world of hierarchies and cultivation, moments like this reminded them they were just young women, doing their best.

Soon, the small clay pot simmered gently over a low flame. The scent of rice porridge, infused with ginger and dotted with sweet jujubes, spread warmly through the quarters. It was simple, unpretentious, and clean—a meal fit for Zhao Lingxi, who valued precision over luxury.

—

Meanwhile, in the back garden pavilion, Zhao Lingxi remained calm, seated beneath a flowering tree. Her pale, simple robes made her seem almost ethereal, and her posture was impeccable. A jade hairpin held her hair in place, the only adornment she allowed herself.

Across from her, Zhao Rouyan sneered. “Eldest Sister has leisure in the morning, while we are dragged here. How fortunate she is.”

Zhao Ruolin stood slightly behind, her gaze distant and disinterested. She had no desire to be here, no wish to witness another display of Zhao Lingxi’s calm authority.

Zhao Ruoqing lingered a step closer. “Rouyan, don’t speak so harshly. Eldest Sister has always preferred simplicity,” she said softly, her voice careful and measured. Beneath the surface, her words carried a subtle poison—pretending to care while keeping a knife hidden behind her smile.

Zhao Lingxi’s eyes flicked to her teacup, unmoved by their words. “Noise in the morning disrupts cultivation,” she said lightly.

Zhao Rouyan’s lips pressed thin. Zhao Ruoqing’s smile faltered. Frustration flickered in her eyes. Zhao Lingxi didn’t look at her.

Zhao Ruolin gave a quiet sigh. “I’m leaving,” she muttered, stepping away without another glance. Zhao Rouyan followed, muttering curses under his breath. Zhao Ruoqing lingered, forcing a final smile. “Take care, Eldest Sister.”

Zhao Lingxi finally looked at her. Calm. Serene. “Always.”

The single word carried authority. Zhao Ruoqing’s fingers clenched in silent frustration as she finally turned away.

—

Back in the servants’ quarters, Liu Ruyan carried the tray of breakfast carefully. Chen Mei and Lan Yue remained hidden, ensuring Zhao Lingxi would never know the struggle behind the meal.

Zhao Lingxi’s gaze fell to the porridge.

“…This smells different.”

“The kitchen was careless,” Liu Ruyan said quietly. “We prepared this ourselves.”

Zhao Lingxi nodded faintly. “You’ve done well.”

No questions. No blame.

Outside, Lan Yue exhaled, releasing a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

—

The day moved slowly. In the main hall, minor disputes erupted between concubines.

Madam Qia, meek and timid, apologized profusely for every slight, even when wronged. Madam Wei, sharp-tongued and flamboyant, took every opportunity to deliver cutting remarks, laughing at her own wit. Zhao Lingxi observed quietly, her calm aura a stark contrast to the petty chaos around her.

Even Madam Wei’s smile faltered slightly under Zhao Lingxi’s serene gaze, but she quickly masked it with a playful curtsy.

—

By evening, preparations for the palace banquet began. The estate buzzed with activity. Silk rustled, jewelry chimed, servants scurried with trays of scented oils and perfumes.

The sisters emerged first—bright silks, elaborate hairpins, radiant makeup. They glimmered, dazzling and orchestrated, like carefully arranged peonies.

Zhao Lingxi stepped out last. Pale, simple robes. A single jade pin in her hair. No adornments. No jewelry. Nothing to draw attention. Lan Yue’s thoughts whispered silently: So this is the Cinderella and evil stepsisters troupe…

Before the carriage doors closed, Zhao Lingxi’s eyes fell on Lan Yue.

“Lan Yue.”

Lan Yue froze. “Y–Yes, Mistress?”

“You will accompany me.”

Lan Yue’s heart skipped a beat. A servant escorting her mistress to a palace banquet? Rare, but entirely plausible, especially for a favored maid. She swallowed hard.

“I… me?”

Zhao Lingxi nodded, serene as ever.

Lan Yue’s stomach tightened. She had absolutely not expected this.

As the carriage rolled away from the estate, lanterns flickering like distant stars, Lan Yue’s mind raced. Why do I feel like my peaceful life just ended?

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep