Zhao Yuan believed she had discovered the truth!
She refused to believe that Wang Si could really cook in that greasy, stifling kitchen, sweating all over.
She must have had the kitchen maids do the work, and then simply carried the food over herself.
Even if Wang Si had truly done it herself, the food she made couldn’t possibly be that good.
It was nothing more than a gesture of sincerity!
A dignified young lady of a marquis household—could she really have any culinary skill?
“Yes! It’s the sincerity! And a pure heart that doesn’t lie!”
Zhao Yuan suddenly understood why Wang Si had been so generously rewarded.
It wasn’t about superb cooking skills at all, but about filial piety and genuine intention.
And those—she, Zhao Yuan, also possessed.
In fact, she believed she had even more.
After all, she had gotten injured just to cook for her grandmother!
The more Zhao Yuan thought about it, the more convinced she became. Her back straightened even more.
Looking at the bowl of poorly made egg custard, she no longer felt as disgusted—
It was normal that it didn’t turn out well.
She was a pampered young lady of a ducal household, after all.
Not some lowly kitchen maid.
The more imperfect it was, the more it proved that she hadn’t faked anything—that she had personally done everything from start to finish without relying on others.
Zhao Yuan stared at her “creation,” feeling quite satisfied.
The cook, seeing her like this, mistakenly thought the young lady was angry and might lash out at others in embarrassment.
To avoid being blamed, the cook swallowed nervously and asked softly, “Ninth Miss, is there something wrong?”
After a brief pause, she cautiously added, “How about… I make it for you instead?”
This egg custard—honestly, even a fire-tending maid who had just entered the kitchen could probably make it better.
There was too much water, the surface was uneven, and the inside was full of holes.
Just by its appearance alone, it was unappetizing.
Even the cook herself wouldn’t want to eat it.
“No need!”
Hearing the cook offer to help, Zhao Yuan quickly shook her head.
Now that she believed she had grasped the essence of pleasing her grandmother, she didn’t see the cook’s offer as help—instead, she suspected sabotage.
Help me cheat?
So Grandmother can accuse me of being insincere?
Hmph!
No one can stop me from pleasing—no, from showing filial piety to Grandmother!
Zhao Yuan immediately had her maid bring a food box. She carefully placed the white porcelain bowl inside it.
After closing the lid, she had the maid carry it and headed straight for Songhe Hall.
…
“Grandmother, this is the egg custard I made for you. It’s my first time, so it didn’t turn out well. Please don’t laugh at my clumsiness!”
Upon entering the main hall, Zhao Yuan appeared lively and sweet.
She smiled brightly, her delicate face showing a hint of shyness.
The Duchess paused slightly.
Then she immediately understood why Zhao Yuan had eagerly brought her food.
“Sigh… I merely gave Si’er a shop, and already the household is stirred.”
Other branches of the family were one thing—they were her own children, after all.
They had more right to covet her property.
But the second branch?
A concubine-born son whom she had supported for decades, even raising his children and grandchildren—and still not satisfied?
The Duchess did not believe Zhao Yuan’s actions were purely her own idea.
She was only twelve—a half-grown child. Whether or not her parents had explicitly instructed her, they had certainly allowed or even encouraged it.
The Duchess had never been particularly sincere toward Zhao Yuan. She was merely a source of amusement.
And now she had developed ambitions, even daring to compete with Si’er!
As expected, give someone a bit of favor, and they forget their place.
Though displeased, the Duchess did not show it.
She maintained a gentle smile. “Oh? Little Ninth made egg custard for Grandmother?”
“Yes! Grandmother, please don’t dislike it!”
As she spoke, Zhao Yuan personally opened the food box and presented the bowl in front of her.
The Duchess glanced down.
What… was this?
It was hard not to dislike it.
At that moment, a maid’s voice sounded from outside: “The young miss has arrived!”
Hearing that her beloved granddaughter had come, the Duchess immediately beamed with joy. “Si’er is here? Quickly, let her in!”
Wang Si entered gracefully with a maid. “Grandmother, there was fresh milk today, so I made some milk egg custard for you…”
…
Milk… egg custard?
What a coincidence?
A trace of helplessness flashed through the Duchess’s eyes.
She knew her granddaughter likely didn’t mean to compete with Zhao Yuan.
It was probably just coincidence that they made the same dish.
But in a household like this, anyone with a bit of sense would never believe in mere “coincidence.”
The Duchess quickly began thinking of how to handle the potential conflict between the two girls.
But Zhao Yuan, unable to hold back, spoke first before the Duchess could say anything:
“Milk egg custard? Wang Qi, you made egg custard too?”
That single word—“too”—was telling.
Wang Si’s eyes flickered.
Could it be that this cousin had also made egg custard and brought it to show filial piety?
In her previous life, Wang Si had not lived long in the Zhao household and was not very familiar with Zhao Yuan.
Back then, she had spent four years at the border city. After returning to the capital, she entered the Eastern Palace.
By that time, Zhao Yuan had already married—the youngest son of the Yong’an Marquis household.
That family held a middling position among the capital’s nobility—not as prestigious as the Duke’s household, but not fallen either.
The Yong’an Marquis served as a fifth-rank official in the Ministry of Revenue—without real power, but still eligible to attend court.
His sons were mostly mediocre.
Zhao Yuan’s husband didn’t even hold an official rank.
Thus, during palace gatherings or grand banquets, Zhao Yuan, lacking a noble title, had no right to attend.
Wang Si rarely saw her.
They were merely cousins, and after marriage, their families differed greatly in status, leaving them with little interaction.
Only when her mother visited the palace and chatted casually would Zhao Yuan occasionally be mentioned:
“This child truly let down your grandmother’s kindness.”
“Your uncle had arranged a match for her with a newly successful scholar from a prestigious Jiangnan family, but she thought him lacking in status.”
“She didn’t understand the honor of a scholarly lineage with seven successful candidates across generations.”
“Instead of choosing a talented and handsome scholar, she insisted on marrying into a declining noble household.”
“…In just a few years, that family has fallen, and the couple now lives by borrowing and scraping by.”
“At first, your grandmother still gave her things out of past affection, but after too many visits, she stopped seeing her altogether.”
At the time, Wang Si had barely met Zhao Yuan, but from her mother’s words, she pieced together an image—
A noble lady who wasn’t clever, yet insisted on acting clever.
Out of curiosity, she had even ordered an investigation.
The result confirmed her judgment—
“A self-important fool.”
“She may not have ill intentions, but a fool’s sudden inspiration is often the most dangerous.”