Chapter 365: An Unexpected Change

“Fufu… don’t laugh at your elder sister, little one. The moment I laid eyes on these sweets, I simply had to try them. You wouldn’t mind, would you?”

Li Shu’s eyes, dark as ink and glimmering with playful mischief, swept slowly over the Sixth Miss of the Marquis’ household. Her rosy lips curved into a teasing smile, and a light, musical laugh spilled from between them—sweet and deliberate, like the sound of jade chimes brushing in the wind.

Before the Sixth Miss could even respond, Li Shu moved gracefully past her, stopping before the little maidservant who had been carrying the dessert tray. With a casual flick of her slender fingers—those pale, delicate hands like carved white jade—she lifted the porcelain bowl of sweet soup and held it in her own hands. Then she turned her gaze back to the Sixth Miss, eyes glistening with innocent curiosity.

“Since my dear sister is so generous, how could I possibly refuse? I’m ever so grateful,” the Sixth Miss replied, her voice soft but taut with restrained irritation. Her fair face flushed pale and red by turns, and she quickly lifted her embroidered handkerchief to hide the tension in her lips.

Of course, that was only what she said. What she truly felt was another matter entirely. But Li Shu, her face blooming like a spring flower, didn’t seem to care in the slightest. Whatever resentment might have flickered in the Sixth Miss’s heart mattered little—appearances were all that Li Shu desired.

Hearing the polite response, Li Shu’s smile deepened. With practiced grace, she lifted the spoon, parting her lips slightly. The curve of her mouth was soft, alluring, almost intimate. She took a spoonful of the sweet soup, savoring it slowly before closing her eyes in quiet satisfaction, the faintest hum of pleasure slipping past her lips.

“My dear sister truly has such thoughtful taste,” Li Shu murmured with a smile. “This sweet soup is quite divine—your elder sister can hardly put it down. But since it was prepared especially for someone else, I shouldn’t rob another of their share.”

Her eyes gleamed as she turned. With poised elegance, she carried the bowl toward Zhu Ping’an, setting it gently before him.

“Someone is quite lucky today,” she said softly, her tone laced with subtle meaning. “Its flavor reminds me of that bai honey drink I once let you try when we were children… don’t waste it now.”

The bowl made a faint, deliberate clink as it touched the table—a sound that carried weight.

At the mention of “bai,” Zhu Ping’an’s gaze dropped instinctively to the bowl. Memories stirred within him: back in his school days, Li Shu had once bribed him with that same drink so he would tell her stories. It wasn’t ordinary honey—it was a rare, specially brewed nectar, the ancient world’s answer to cola or lemonade. The taste had burned itself into his memory ever since.

So when she mentioned that this sweet soup tasted like “bai,” his tongue couldn’t help but tingle in anticipation.

Though he hadn’t intended to eat it before, temptation won. He picked up the spoon and took a sip.

But the moment the flavor hit his tongue, disappointment followed. This was nothing like that childhood drink—worlds apart, in fact. It was pleasant enough, yes, but utterly different.

He sighed quietly, setting the spoon back into the bowl with a faint clatter, deciding to leave the rest for later.

Li Shu, however, noticed. As Zhu Ping’an lifted the spoon she had used moments ago, a faint blush colored her cheeks. Her dark eyes sparkled with something bright and unspoken—triumph, perhaps. When her gaze drifted toward the Sixth Miss, the light in her eyes became dazzling.

Yifu… no, that woman…!

The Sixth Miss’s thoughts roiled with indignation. A shameless country hussy! From her tone, she was clearly flirting with her brother-in-law since childhood! And now—right before my eyes—she lets him use the same spoon she just touched? That’s practically… a kiss! The audacity! The indecency!

Her grip on the embroidered handkerchief tightened until her knuckles whitened, the silk nearly tearing in her grasp.

In her mind, Li Shu—standing there radiant, smiling like a fox-spirit who’d stolen the moonlight—was no longer a guest of the house but a brazen, scheming seductress. The Sixth Miss conveniently forgot her own earlier posturing, of course.

Zhu Ping’an, oblivious to the silent storm brewing between the two women, was simply following an old habit. Back when they were younger, he often ate whatever Li Shu brought him, even using her utensils. In the countryside, such small details had never mattered, and over the years, it had become second nature.

But to the Sixth Miss, the sight was scandalous—as shocking as if she were witnessing something indecent in broad daylight.

After a brief, strained while, both women exchanged a few more polite, hollow words before finally taking their leave. Yet, before departing, Li Shu smiled once more and gently reminded the Sixth Miss to send a bowl of the sweet soup to her courtyard later—“so that she might savor its flavor properly.”

And indeed, not long after Li Shu returned to her quarters, the Sixth Miss sent her maid—the same little attendant from before—to deliver a bowl of the dessert.

“Fifth Miss,” the maid said stiffly, “my mistress asked me to bring this over. You won’t find such sweets in the countryside. If you like it, she said you may have as much as you please.”

Her tone dripped with false courtesy, her smile sharp with disdain. She and her mistress shared one heart—and one grudge. Every word carried the faintest sting, mocking Li Shu’s rural origins and contrasting them with the refinement of a noblewoman from the capital.

“Oh? Is that so? Then please, do thank your Sixth Miss for me,” Li Shu replied sweetly, as though she hadn’t heard the hidden barb at all. Her smile was as calm as moonlight.

“Hua’er, bring it here. I’d like to try it right away.”

The little maid Baozi hurried forward, taking the bowl from the visitor’s hands and placing it before her mistress. Li Shu seemed quite taken with the dessert—her eyes gleamed with genuine curiosity as she reached out to lift the spoon.

But just then, something unexpected happened.

Perhaps her eagerness betrayed her; perhaps her hands trembled ever so slightly. The porcelain spoon slipped from her fingers, striking the floor with a sharp, brittle crack.

The maid who had brought it gasped softly, instinctively looking down. The delicate spoon had broken cleanly in two.

As she lowered her gaze, Li Shu smiled faintly. Her expression remained composed, even gentle, though a subtle flicker of cunning passed through her dark eyes. With an almost imperceptible movement of her fingers, she brushed the air lightly—then lifted her chin and spoke with unbothered poise.

“It’s quite all right. My hand slipped, that’s all. No need to worry. We’ll simply fetch another spoon.”

She turned to her own maid. “Hua’er, bring me the silver spoon.”

A few moments later, the little maid returned with a gleaming, finely engraved spoon of pure silver. Li Shu accepted it with a soft laugh.

“No wonder the first one broke. It must have been heaven’s will,” she said with a teasing smile. “After all, only silver is worthy of my dear sister’s exquisite craftsmanship.”

The visiting maid nearly rolled her eyes. Silver spoons? Is that supposed to impress me? In the Marquis’ household, even golden spoons were commonplace. What a country bumpkin, she thought bitterly. So proud over a bit of silver.

But her disdain froze on her lips the next instant.

As she watched, Li Shu dipped the silver spoon into the bowl, stirring it slowly, gracefully. The surface of the sweet soup rippled, catching the light. Then, when Li Shu lifted the spoon again—

—the shining silver had turned black.

It darkened swiftly, spreading like ink through water, until the entire spoon was stained a deep, ominous shade—black as night.

The maid’s eyes widened in horror. The transformation was unmistakable.

And Li Shu, still smiling faintly, gazed down at the spoon in her hand, her dark lashes lowering slightly over eyes that gleamed with cold knowing. The sweetness of her expression remained, but beneath it, something sharper, more dangerous, flickered to life.

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