Nian Shilan remembered that bowl of stone-cold soup until the day she died. When she opened her eyes again, she had become Qin Shi, the second wife of the Ningyuan Marquis household. Before her sat a bowl of black medicine, and kneeling by the bed was a young man: Gu Tingye.
“Mother, I made this ginseng soup myself...”
She swept the bowl to the floor. “When I killed people in the palace, I used realgar. Who are you trying to fool with this rat poison?”
Before long, the entire Sheng household had gone mad.
Minglan discovered that her step-grandmother was actually teaching her to play polo. “What are you afraid of? If you get hurt, I’ll take the blame!”
Sheng Hong stared in shock after she slapped him. “What business is it of yours if I discipline my concubine-born daughter?”
Gu Yanjing looked at his son, tied up in the ancestral hall, and asked in a trembling voice, “You... what exactly do you want?”
Nian Shilan crossed her legs and munched on a watermelon. “Simple. I call the shots in this household.”
