Qin Mingzhen, the Ning’an Marquis household’s famously unlucky young lady:
Her father thought his daughter by a mistress was an embarrassment. He pretended to treat everyone equally, but secretly let her stepmother heap false praise on her until it ruined her.
Her stepmother called her “plump and blessed,” then arranged for her to marry a servant’s grandson.
Her childhood sweetheart and fiancé lived off her while gaslighting her: “Being able to marry a scholar is a blessing for you!”
In the end, she coughed up blood and died in a drafty woodshed, still clutching the divorce papers tossed to her by a concubine from the Song family: “A hen that can’t lay eggs, hogging the principal wife’s place and disgusting everyone!”
Reborn, Qin Mingzhen tears apart the marquis’s household and hefts the family’s heirloom iron wok, sneering:
“Think I’m greedy? Today I’ll show you what a top-tier scheming cook can do!”
She sends her stepmother snail-rice-noodle soup stewed with durian: “It’s a great tonic! Perfect for bad breath and a poisonous heart!”
She treats her childhood sweetheart to mooncakes filled with bitter herbs: “Taking the imperial exams? I hope you have diarrhea all the way to the throne hall!”
But there’s something strange about the Duke who became her unexpected patron...
She hands him a bowl of plain noodles topped with two poached eggs. “I just made it while I was at it.”
The Duke spends all night carving a pair of mandarin-duck bowls. “She must be hinting that we belong together!”
