“Chunhong, step aside. Since you’re all coming at me together, don’t blame me for what happens next.”
Faced with Mu Wanyu’s taunts, Wanqing found even speaking to such a foolish opponent utterly redundant. Without hesitation, she pulled Chunhong back and coldly addressed the group.
As the maids rolled up their sleeves and lunged at her, Wanqing smirked slightly, her figure darting effortlessly to evade their attacks while countering with swift punches and kicks.
In mere moments, not only were the hefty maids—Fatty and Chubby—kicked squarely in the chest and left sprawled on the ground, unable to rise, but even Cuixiang and Cuilan were howling in pain, writhing on the floor.
With the maids swiftly dealt with, Wanqing dusted off her hands and stood calmly, a faint smile playing on her lips. Only then did Mu Wanyu realize the gravity of her mistake.
“You—”
Watching Wanqing flex her slender fingers, the joints cracking ominously as she stepped forward, Mu Wanyu instinctively retreated in panic.
“What about me? Who was it just now who threatened to beat me to death? You? Or them?”
Seeing Mu Wanyu’s bravado crumble into sheer terror, Wanqing let out a cold laugh. She stepped closer and delivered a light punch to Mu Wanyu’s shoulder, leaving the girl frozen like a statue, her eyes wide with horror as Wanqing leaned in until their noses nearly touched.
Her lips curled into a playful smile as she lifted Mu Wanyu’s chin with a finger, taunting her.
“I—what did you do to me? I—”
Glancing at the maids writhing in pain at her feet and recalling Wanqing’s ruthless strikes, Mu Wanyu trembled. Though she couldn’t fathom what had changed about this girl, one thing was clear—she would never dare bully her again.
“What do you think? Did you really believe a fool like you could kill me? Let me make this clear—I won’t tolerate any future provocations. Next time, I won’t just beat someone to death; I’ll cripple them. As for you, Chunhong, slap her—hard. Don’t stop until her face bleeds. And the rest of you—pair up and slap each other until your faces swell. Otherwise, I’ll finish you off myself.”
Wanqing chuckled at Mu Wanyu’s delayed realization of her predicament. Flexing her slightly sore wrist from the earlier slap, she enunciated each word, watching as Mu Wanyu’s eyes filled with dread.
With a smirk, she released Mu Wanyu’s chin and turned to Chunhong, who was still stunned by the sudden turn of events.
Seeing Chunhong hesitate briefly before eagerly rolling up her sleeves and delivering a resounding slap to Mu Wanyu’s face, Wanqing smiled in satisfaction. She then strolled over to the four maids still groaning on the ground.
“You—” Though Wanqing wore a smile, to the maids, she now seemed more terrifying than a demon.
They had barely laid a finger on her, yet they were left in unbearable agony. Desperate to survive, they had no choice but to obey, reluctantly slapping each other with increasing force.
“You—Fatty, why are you hitting me? Ouch! You—” Cuilan shrieked as Fatty struck her, retaliating with a slap of her own.
Nearby, Cuixiang and Chubby were locked in the same brutal exchange.
“Good, harder! Cuixiang, Cuilan—if you let them beat you to death, it’ll be your loss.”
Wanqing watched the spectacle with amusement, settling onto a stool by the doorway and occasionally egging them on.
Her words only fueled the maids’ desperation, each slap growing fiercer, their faces soon streaked with blood.
“Excellent. Chunhong, how many slaps was that?”
Delighted by the absurdity of the scene, Wanqing clapped lightly. Seeing Cuixiang and Cuilan’s bloodied faces, she assumed Mu Wanyu must be faring no better.
“Miss, around thirty or forty. My hand’s starting to hurt,” Chunhong replied, panting slightly from exertion.
Though she had initially relished the chance to strike Mu Wanyu, even her own hand now ached.
“Then take a break. I punish them, but I’d never punish you. Enough—all of you, stop. Consider this a light warning. Next time, if any of you dare cross me, I won’t settle for just slaps. I’ll make sure you regret being born. Chunhong, your hand must be sore. Go wash up, then help me freshen up. Ugh, can’t even nap in peace. These wretches deserve worse. Lucky for them, I’m in a good mood today. Now—scram!”
Wanqing waved dismissively, signaling the maids to stop. The exhausted girls collapsed, gasping for breath.
She turned to Chunhong with a tender expression, sighing in irritation. The maids, now free from pain but still trembling with fear, scrambled to their feet at her command, fleeing as fast as they could.
“Miss, the Fourth Miss is still at the door. What about her?” Chunhong asked, eyeing Mu Wanyu, who remained slumped on the ground, seemingly paralyzed with fear.
“Let her sit there. Once I’m done freshening up, I’ll chop her into mincemeat for dumplings,” Wanqing replied coolly, casting a disdainful glance at Mu Wanyu before turning away.
“You—you—Mu Wanqing, just you wait! Just you wait!”
Mu Wanyu, though a concubine’s daughter, had always been coddled by her mother. Never had she suffered such humiliation.
She had planned to play dead, hoping her elder sister and mother would avenge her. But Wanqing’s threats left her too terrified to continue the act.
Struggling to her feet, her face swollen and tear-streaked, she staggered away, muttering curses under her breath.
“Oh? Chunhong, fetch me a knife. I’d love to see if she’s truly unkillable. It’s been ages since we’ve had meat—perfect for dumplings at noon.”
Hearing Mu Wanyu’s hollow bravado, Wanqing smirked, watching her retreating figure with contempt.
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