Her stomach rumbled with hunger. The cold wind cut through her thin clothes like a knife, seeping into her skin and making her shiver.
Her steps became light and unsteady.
Yan Zhuxing thought for a moment, then changed direction.
She didn’t go looking for Yan Mingyue. Instead, she went to the Main Kitchen.
She was hungry and needed to eat.
Only with a full stomach would she have the strength to kill.
The moment Yan Zhuxing stepped into the kitchen courtyard, the savory aroma of chicken soup, mingled with the steam from cooked rice, wafted into her nostrils.
The sound of chopping at the stove stopped abruptly as seven or eight pairs of eyes turned to look at her.
“What is the Eldest Miss doing here? Don’t tell me she wants to snatch the maid’s job of delivering food to the Second Miss?” The kitchen manager, Zhou Mama, sneered, flicking her handkerchief.
“Is the food ready?” Yan Zhuxing stared at the bubbling clay pot, her throat bobbing.
A whole old hen was simmering on the stove, ginseng roots, red dates, and wolfberries floating on the surface of the broth. It was glistening with oil and smelled a hundred times more fragrant than the tree bark and grass roots she had gnawed on in the military camp in her past life.
“Whether it’s ready or not is none of your business,” Zhou Mama scoffed.
“We call you Eldest Miss, and you really think you’re someone important? Shoo, shoo, get out of here. Don’t delay us from preparing meals for the masters of the mansion. If the Second Miss goes hungry, can you bear the responsibility?”
Everyone in the Marquis’s Mansion knew.
The Eldest Miss had the title but was, in reality, less than nothing.
The apple of the madam’s eye was the Second Miss, Yan Mingyue, and her alone.
“I want to eat,” Yan Zhuxing said calmly.
“Delicacies are for people. Are you worthy?” Zhou Mama’s face was full of ridicule. “After the masters have finished their meal, we’ll leave a few warm mouthfuls for you in the slop bucket!”
The room erupted in derisive laughter once more.
Yan Zhuxing walked straight to the stove and shoved aside the young maid who was stoking the fire.
She pulled a piece of firewood with glowing embers from the stove and brought it down on Zhou Mama.
“What do you think you’re do—”
Before the last word could leave her mouth, Zhou Mama leaped three feet into the air from the burn, letting out a piercing shriek.
Sparks crackled on Zhou Mama’s clothes, burning a charred hole through the fabric. The flesh beneath seemed to have been seared open.
They were all dumbfounded.
Was this still the spineless Eldest Miss who wouldn’t fight back when hit or talk back when scolded?
“What are you standing around for? Hurry up and seize her! Take her to the Madam to be punished!” The kitchen’s second-in-command, Zhou Mama’s number one lackey, Sun Ding, raised a cleaver and rallied the others to charge forward.
In an instant, those washing vegetables, chopping ingredients, and carrying dishes all rushed toward Yan Zhuxing, wanting to capture her to claim a reward.
Without a second word, Yan Zhuxing pulled out another half-burnt piece of firewood.
Wielding one in each hand, she swung them so fast they looked like pinwheels of fire.
The sticks were still lit, and she struck with speed, precision, and ruthlessness. Every move was a life-or-death gamble.
This was all honed in the military camp in her previous life.
Although this body was not as formidable as it would be five years later, she had been stronger than others since childhood, so dealing with these untrained servants was more than easy.
Seeing that the others were hesitant to approach because of the burning sticks in Yan Zhuxing’s hands, Zhou Mama immediately shrieked, “Are you stupid? Use firewood to hit her back!”
Quick-witted servants and maids hurriedly picked up firewood sticks, intending to strike Yan Zhuxing.
“You won’t let me eat, is that it? Then none of you will eat either!”
Yan Zhuxing kicked over the pot of old hen soup on the stove. The clay pot flew, and scalding soup spilled out, splashing onto Sun Ding, who was charging over with his cleaver.
Sun Ding let out a squeal like a stuck pig. The cleaver slipped from his hand and landed squarely on top of his own foot.
He screamed again.
The servants following close behind were also scalded and hopped around, clutching their feet.
The greasy chicken soup splattered on the floor, and some servants with slippery feet fell flat on their backs.
Yan Zhuxing spun around to dodge a sweeping wooden stick and sent a stout kitchen maid flying with an elbow strike.
The burning stick in her hand broke. She grabbed a rolling pin from the cutting board and smashed it into an approaching maid’s face, causing her nose to bleed profusely.
“This is outrageous!” Zhou Mama shrieked, rushing forward.
Yan Zhuxing slammed a steamer basket directly onto her head.
Then, she smashed all the pots, pans, bowls, and ladles in the kitchen to pieces with a series of clangs and crashes.
For a moment, the entire kitchen was filled with nothing but rising and falling wails and the sound of shattering cookware.
“You’re insane. You’re truly insane.”
Zhou Mama took a few steps back, utterly stunned.
No one dared to provoke the crazed Eldest Miss any longer. A maid named Xiao Huan, who was hiding in a corner with the lightest injuries, scrambled out to report to the Second Miss.
Yan Zhuxing was slightly annoyed.
In her smashing spree, she had forgotten to leave a bowl for herself.
She searched carefully and picked up a chipped bowl from the floor that was mostly intact. She scooped the remaining rice from the wooden bucket into it.
Then she poured in the little bit of chicken soup left in the clay pot, making chicken soup with rice.
Holding the bowl, she treated the servants lying twisted on the ground as her side dish, watching their miserable state as she ate the bowl of chicken soup with rice, one mouthful at a time.
Mm, truly fragrant.
“What?”
After hearing Xiao Huan’s account, Yan Mingyue’s eyes widened in disbelief.
“What did you say sister did to you?”
Was the person who had wreaked havoc in the kitchen really Yan Zhuxing?
How was she completely different from the person in her memory?
Xiao Huan rolled up her sleeve to reveal a red, scalded arm and sobbed, “This servant saw with my own eyes the Eldest Miss holding a red-hot piece of firewood. Zhou Mama’s palm and back are completely burned!”
Yan Mingyue gasped and immediately covered her mouth with a handkerchief, her eyes turning red on cue.
“How could sister do such a thing? Has she gone mad?”
After a pause, she added, “Mo’er, quickly fetch some ointment for Xiao Huan.”
Only after calling out did she realize: hadn’t Mo’er gone to supervise Yan Zhuxing’s laundry?
How did Yan Zhuxing end up in the Main Kitchen?
Where was Mo’er?
Her mind filled with questions, she called another maid to apply ointment to Xiao Huan’s arm.
Xiao Huan was so moved she was on the verge of tears.
The Second Miss was so kind, so much better than that lunatic, the Eldest Miss. A person like her was the one who deserved to be the young lady of their Marquis’s Mansion.
Yan Mingyue thought for a moment, then ordered a maid named Man’er to see what had happened to Mo’er, while she herself led Xiao Huan to the Main Courtyard.
In the main hall.
Wen Rushuang was flicking the beads of an abacus when she looked up to see her younger daughter flitting into her arms like a butterfly.
“Mother! Sister smashed up the kitchen and said she wants to burn everyone to death! Has she gone mad?” Yan Mingyue’s face was filled with worry.
“Nonsense.” Wen Rushuang put down her wolf-hair brush.
She had watched Yan Zhuxing grow up. She had raised that child to be completely obedient. How could she possibly do such a thing?
Yan Mingyue gave Xiao Huan a look.
Xiao Huan immediately understood and recounted what had happened in the Main Kitchen, adding plenty of embellishments.
Wen Rushuang’s brow furrowed slightly.
She didn’t believe Yan Zhuxing was that bold, but the wounds on this maid couldn’t be faked.
True or false, she would find out with one look.
So she led a few guards and headed for the Main Kitchen.
Unexpectedly, she was stopped halfway there.
“Madam, Second Miss, Mo’er… she’s dead.”
The maid, Man’er, whom Yan Mingyue had sent to find Mo’er earlier, knelt before them, her face pale as a sheet.
“What?” Yan Mingyue was stunned, and a trace of irritation followed.
Her palm tightened instantly.
The events of the day gave her an inexplicable feeling of losing control.
She clung to her mother’s arm, tears streaming down her face.
“Mother, Mo’er was helping sister with the laundry earlier. How could she have died so mysteriously? Sister also went to smash the kitchen and injured so many people. Could it be that she’s gone mad, killed Mo’er first, and now wants to harm others?”
With just a few words, she pinned the crime of murder directly on Yan Zhuxing.
Wen Rushuang’s expression grew even darker.
“How did Mo’er die?” she asked, staring at Man’er.