"Mother, it's time to drink ginseng soup."
The crisp sound of the porcelain spoon hitting the rim of the bowl was like the sound of the hosta being crushed between my teeth during the poisonous attack in my previous life.
I suddenly grabbed the nanny's wrist, and the ginseng soup splashed a ferocious crow color on the brocade quilt - this old guy actually even used the same amount of poison as in his previous life. The gold-encrusted jade bracelet on her wrist made my palms ache. It was a gift I gave her when I was promoted to the virtuous concubine.
