MTLNOVEL Chapter 128: Learning A Lesson
"I've lost my appetite."
The words hung in the air like frost, cold enough to silence even the boldest breath. The smile on the servant girl's face faltered, her knuckles whitening on the edges of the lacquered tray.
I stood slowly, letting my sleeves fall with precision, the soft rustle of silk deliberate in the hush of the room. "Summon the kitchen staff," I said, voice calm as still water. "It looks like we need to have a conversation."
The girl's mouth opened, then closed. "All of them, my lady?"
I didn't grace her with a look. "Was I not clear? I want every hand that touched a ladle, every back that stood near a fire, everyone who so much as touched a knife or held a grain of rice. If they do not come…"
I turned to Shi Yaozu, who was already straightening at my side. "Drag them."
He gave the barest nod. "Yes, Crown Princess."
By the time the sun climbed higher, word had already galloped faster than any messenger. The Crown Princess had refused her breakfast. The Crown Princess had summoned the entire kitchen. And now she waited in the southern courtyard like an empress on judgment day.
I sat in the shade of the carved pavilion, fingers laced calmly, dressed head to toe in jade green with a cluster of golden hairpins pinning my hair up high. I didn't need to speak. My stillness managed to do all the shouting.
Around me, the concubines gathered like moths to an open flame. Not close enough to speak, but close enough to watch. Fans fluttered like restless birds. Slippers whispered across stone. I could feel their gazes slipping over me, curious, calculating, wary.
They weren't loyal to Lady Yuan. Not all of them. But they wanted to see just how I would react to whatever was going on in front of them. They needed to know what would happen next so that they can plot more effectively.
Like baby tigers learning how to hunt from their mother. To see what was successful and what was not.
"Still no sign of the kitchen staff," Yaozu murmured beside me. His hands were folded behind his back, his face unreadable, but his stance was too still. Ready.
"Send word again," I said lightly, even knowing that at least an hour or two had passed. "If they cannot come themselves, perhaps they need help walking."
A second servant scurried off with wide eyes.
Moments later, footsteps approached.
Not hurried. Not remorseful.
The head steward of the kitchens arrived alone, his expression pinched and flustered. He dropped to his knees with a practiced thud and bowed until his forehead kissed stone.
"Crown Princess, forgive us. There was confusion in the orders. My staff believed the message was… not urgent."
"Not urgent," I repeated. "A summons from the official wife of the Crown Prince."
"I accept full responsibility, Your Highness."
"Do you?" I asked, lifting my gaze. "Then perhaps you'll tell me why my breakfast tray contained jasmine tea laced with aconite, vegetables that were burnt or just rotten, and fish served with the scales peeled backward."
The color drained from his face. "Your Highness—there must be a mistake. We would never—"
"You didn't even bring the tray yourself," I said. "You sent a girl I've never seen. A girl who smiled when she thought I wasn't looking."
Yaozu stepped forward, voice low. "The back kitchen staff has been whispering. We've intercepted notes. They called it a 'lesson.' Said the Crown Princess needed to remember who rules the manor."
A sharp intake of breath rippled from the gathered onlookers.
I leaned back in my chair, folding my hands in front of me. "So, who does rule this manor?" I asked, raising my eyebrow. I was speaking to Yaozu, but my gaze never left the concubines lining the edge of the pavilion.
The steward said nothing, but I didn't need him to answer.
Steps echoed again and I lifted my head to see if it was the illusive kitchen staff.
A new figure entered the courtyard, his robes crisp and his gait far too elegant for a mere bystander.
His face was covered by a large straw hat covered in red gauze, but it wasn't hard to know who it was. Yao Luo.
He approached with a tray held in one hand, its scent already making mouths water. Steamed buns. Porridge with preserved duck egg. Warm soy milk. And even a hint of tea.
"Forgive the intrusion, Crown Princess," he said, bowing. "I brought breakfast. Freshly made by yours truly. A little birdy told me that you were hungry and needed someone trusted to make it for you." His head tilted toward Shi Yaozu, letting me know exactly who the little birdy was.
The kitchen steward looked like he wanted to sink into the stone.
"I'd offer some to your staff, but I hear that they aren't going to be living long. It would be a shame to waste this delicious food on someone who couldn't really enjoy it," Yao Luo added, voice almost kind.
Then, a pause.
"And word is, your husband doesn't have control over his women or his kitchen, so the rest of us concerned citizens have to feed you to make sure that you don't waste away to nothing."
Gasps.
Soft, sharp, delicious gasps.
And then Zhu Mingyu's voice, calm and cold, cut through the courtyard like a blade.
"Interesting rumor," he said, strolling into view, his expression unreadable, his robes trailing like a storm cloud. With an elegant spin, he sat down beside me and looked at Yan Luo. "Too bad that it isn't true."
"It isn't?" purred Yan Luo, holding up the basket. "My apologies, your Highness."
"Did you verify this… situation yourself?" Mingyu asked.
"I did," Yao Luo said smoothly. "Would you like the tea that was meant for your wife? It should still be on the table, if I'm not mistaken. The food they gave her for breakfast as well."
The guards stepped forward with the offering. One of them lifted the lid of the teacup. The scent wafted up—sweet and bitter, floral and very, very wrong.
Mingyu's mouth tightened.
"Go to the kitchens," he said. "Drag every worker here. I don't care if the entire manor starves. No one poisons my wife."
The words echoed, loud and clear.
The watching women straightened. Some turned their faces. One of them, An Lin, actually dropped her fan.
Ten minutes later, the entire kitchen staff—twelve women, four men—were dragged into the courtyard.
They knelt. Heads bowed. Faces pale.
I stood.
"You wanted to teach me a lesson," I said softly. "I have to admit, I'm not sure the lesson you want me to learn. So, I called you so that you could make sure that you got your point across."
I stepped forward, stopping just before the girl who had brought the tray. Her braid was still damp. Her eyes were squeezed shut.
"If you were trying to prove that I was vulnerable, that I was alone and susceptible to poison, you were wrong," I said. "I'm never alone. And I can always tell what is trying to kill me."
I turned to the guards. "Take the steward. Chain him in the cellar. Let him cook for the rats."
The guards moved.
"And the rest?" one asked.
I glanced back. "Strip them of their uniforms. They may leave the manor by sundown. If they don't, they will leave in boxes."
The tremble of the courtyard was silence itself.
Lady Yuan stood under the camphor tree, lips pressed tight. Her newest lapdogs beside her, watching, weighing, waiting.
Shi Yaozu moved beside me. "I'll see it done."
Yao Luo offered the breakfast again.
I took the basket this time and smiled when I saw the tea in it.
"Thank you," I said.
"Anytime," he said, grinning. "I always did enjoy a good kitchen purge."
Zhu Mingyu said nothing.
But when he turned to leave, I saw the shift.
He was a man who had just realized his house was no longer his. And everyone else had just realized it too.