“Is that so? You can shout if you want, but think carefully—will help arrive faster than my dagger?”
Seeing this girl still putting on a brave face despite being terrified, Wanqing faintly curled her lips, keeping the dagger pressed against her neck as she spoke.
“You—Mu Wanqing! What do you want? Let me tell you, this is the Princess’s estate. Someone saw me leave with you. If anything happens to me, do you think you can escape blame?”
With the dagger at her throat, Wu Qingyang finally felt real fear. She didn’t dare move, barely even breathing, afraid that any sudden motion might provoke Wanqing. Yet, she still tried to bluff.
“Oh, really? Then let’s see. Also, I forgot to mention—my skill with poison far surpasses my elder sister’s. If I want you dead, I can make sure you seem fine now, only to die silently later, without even a hint of pain or abnormality.”
Wu Qingyang’s reaction made Wanqing think of how much hatred this woman harbored after just one encounter. If this were any other situation, considering her schemes against Song Meiling and even herself, Wanqing might have already slashed her face with the dagger.
But this was the Princess’s estate, and she had arrived with her father. Not wanting to escalate things further, Wanqing smirked coldly and pressed the dagger harder. Wu Qingyang didn’t dare make a sound, let alone scream.
With a faint smile, Wanqing reminded her—both a truth and a warning.
“You—you’re lying…” Wu Qingyang stammered, thinking of Wanqing’s sinister sister. Though she found it hard to believe Mu Wanxia could poison someone, Wanqing’s words sent a chill down her spine.
“Whether I’m lying, you’ll find out later—or you can ask her yourself. But listen carefully. This time, I’ll pretend nothing happened. If you have a problem, come at me, Mu Wanqing. I have all the time and patience to play with you. But if you dare lay a finger on anyone close to me—if you even think of harming them—don’t say I didn’t warn you. Your fate… hmph.”
Seeing Wu Qingyang like this, Wanqing found it pointless. She slowly withdrew the dagger, watching as the other girl stood frozen, barely breathing. With a flick of her wrist, she scattered a handful of powder.
As the powder landed on a nearby potted flower, Wu Qingyang watched in horror. The vibrant bloom, once lush and green, withered before her eyes—black spots spreading, the petals shriveling, the stem and roots following suit. Soon, the entire plant turned brittle, the soil cracking as if drained of all moisture, leaving behind nothing but scorched earth.
Though she didn’t understand how, Wu Qingyang instinctively pinched her own arm, wincing at the pain. Staring at Wanqing in terror, she gasped, “You—”
“Seems you understand now. Good. This is your warning. Next time, I won’t be so lenient. You might end up just like that flower…”
Seeing the fear in Wu Qingyang’s eyes, Wanqing knew her message had been received. With a faint smile, she turned and walked away gracefully.
“That woman… she…”
Only after Wanqing had disappeared did Wu Qingyang finally regain her breath. Staring at the withered flower—now a lifeless husk, the soil charred as if burned—she shuddered. Remembering Wanqing’s words about her sister’s poison, true fear settled in. Gasping, she hurried toward the crowded banquet hall.
“Princess, what happened? You and Mu Wanqing—did something occur? Wasn’t she supposed to be detained in the courtyard by Cui’er? How did she—?”
One of her companions approached, noticing her pale, shaken expression. Confused, she pressed for answers.
“Enough! That girl is beyond us. Have you seen Mu Wanxia? Go check on Cui’er and her—now! Take two maids with you. Hurry!”
Cutting off the questions, Wu Qingyang snatched the wine jug from her hand, urgency in her voice. The girl hesitated but obeyed, rushing off.
Standing amidst the lively crowd, surrounded by flattering nobles, Wu Qingyang’s panic slowly subsided.
“Everyone, drink! Today’s a rare gathering—eat, drink, and enjoy!”
Forcing a polite smile, she poured wine for the guests, an unusual gesture that delighted the men, who toasted her even more enthusiastically.
Meanwhile, Mu Wanxia, having failed to silence her witness, had fled in panic. After forcing poison down Liu Cui’er’s throat, she’d been interrupted by a mysterious black-clad figure—a man, judging by his build and cold, ruthless demeanor.
Catching her breath in a secluded spot, she glanced back, relieved the pursuer hadn’t followed. But the thought of what she’d done to Cui’er left her trembling, scrambling for a plan.
Back at the banquet, Wu Qingyang’s forced cheer masked her unease. Finally, the girl returned, pale and shaken.
“Well? How are Cui’er and Mu Wanxia?”
Grabbing her arm, Wu Qingyang dragged her aside, demanding answers.
“I—I—Princess, it’s horrible… Cui’er, she—she—”
The girl’s face was ghostly white, her voice trembling. At Wu Qingyang’s insistent shaking, she stammered, her terror worse than if she’d seen a ghost.
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