When the hot tea flowed down my face, the whole Zuixian Tower was laughing.
I heard the laughter of those silks and satins, like small knives tempered with poison, splashing from the private rooms on the second floor to the lobby on the first floor. The tea was still dripping down, along my chin and neck, and into the burlap collar. The white porcelain tea cup shattered into several pieces on the ground. The splashed fragments cut a gash on the back of my hand. Red blood seeped out, and I subconsciously clenched my fists.
"I told you, this kind of place is not where a embroidery workshop maid like you should come."
The sound came from above. Not in a hurry, with a lazy smile, like a cat teasing a half-dead mouse.
I looked up.
