Chapter 3: Serving Tea with Blood
The Main Hall of the Duke’s estate was suffocatingly quiet the next morning. The lingering dampness of the previous night's storm hung in the air, but the brazier burning at the center of the room offered no warmth to the people kneeling before me.
I sat upon the carved sandalwood throne at the head of the hall, leisurely using the lid of my porcelain cup to skim the floating leaves of my premium Longjing tea.
Kneeling on the hard, freezing stone floor below me was Lu Yao.
Gone were her delicate white silks. Today, she wore the coarse, plain pink cotton mandated for lowly concubines. She was forbidden by imperial law from wearing the crimson red of a legitimate wife. Her left cheek was swollen to twice its normal size, a violent purple bruise blooming where my hand had struck her yesterday. Her eyes, usually wide and innocent, now burned with a venomous hatred that she desperately, pathetically tried to mask behind a veil of unshed tears.
Standing off to the side was Shen Ze. His left knee was heavily bandaged beneath his robes, and he leaned heavily on a cane. His fists were clenched so tightly his knuckles were white, his jaw ticking as he watched his beloved white lotus suffer. But he didn't dare speak. The threat of losing my family’s eighty thousand taels of silver had chained the dog exactly where I wanted him.
"Serve the tea," I said lazily, not even bothering to look up from my cup.
Trembling, Lu Yao raised the scalding porcelain cup of newly brewed tea above her head. The steam billowed up, flushing her pale face. "Please... drink the tea, First Madam."
I let her hold it.
One minute passed. The heavy pendulum of the hall's water clock echoed in the silence.
Two minutes.
Her thin arms began to shake violently. The scalding ceramic was blistering her delicate fingertips, but she didn't dare drop it. A drop of sweat rolled down her bruised cheek. Shen Ze took a step forward, his eyes bloodshot, unable to bear her torture any longer.
"Lu Wan, enough!" Shen Ze growled through gritted teeth. "You have made your point! You are torturing her!"
"A concubine’s arms must be steady to serve her master," I replied coolly, finally shifting my gaze to the pathetic pair. "If she cannot hold a cup of tea, how will she serve you in the bedchamber? I am merely training her."
I finally reached out, my long, golden nail guards glinting in the morning light.
But just as my fingers brushed the edge of the cup, Lu Yao’s eyes flashed with absolute, murderous malice. It was a micro-expression, a sudden tightening of her jaw. She intentionally tilted her wrists upward, aiming to hurl the boiling tea directly into my lap.
In my past life, she had succeeded. She had severely scalded my thighs, leaving ugly burn scars, and then immediately burst into tears, blaming her clumsiness and my intimidating aura. Shen Ze had comforted her while I screamed in agony.
But I was ready for her this time.
[System Skill: 'Ghost Step' activated. Reflexes enhanced by 300%.]
I shifted my weight in a blur. Before the boiling liquid could even crest the rim of the cup, my hand violently slapped the bottom of the porcelain upward.
Splash!
"Ahhhh!" Lu Yao shrieked, a blood-curdling sound that tore through the hall.
The boiling tea splashed entirely backward, soaking her chest and neck. The scalding liquid seared through her thin pink cotton instantly. She collapsed backward onto the stone floor, thrashing and clawing at her own collar as the skin on her neck turned an angry, blistering red.
"Yao'er!" Shen Ze roared, dropping his cane and hobbling forward to catch her thrashing body. "A physician! Someone fetch a physician! Lu Wan, you absolute monster! You did that on purpose!"
"You clumsy fool," I sneered, standing up slowly, towering over them both. "You can't even serve a simple cup of tea properly, and you dare try to scald the Legitimate Duchess? Men, drag Concubine Yao to the woodshed for three days of reflection. No food. No water."
"No!" Shen Ze bellowed, shielding her burned body. "I am the Duke! I countermand that order!"
But before the paralyzed guards could decide who to obey, the heavy wooden doors of the Main Hall were kicked open with a deafening CRASH.
"Such a lively morning in the Duke's estate," a dark, mocking voice echoed through the doorway.
The air in the room instantly dropped by ten degrees. A man strode into the hall, and the moment I saw him, the phantom agony of the Crane Red poison burned in the back of my throat.
He wore a black python robe bordered with gold thread. His eyes were like a hawk’s—calculating, predatory, and cruel.
It was the Third Prince, Li Xuan.
In my past life, this was the man who had siphoned my family’s wealth through Shen Ze, usurped the throne, and signed the execution order that severed my father’s and brothers' heads from their shoulders. Pure, unadulterated hatred flared in my chest, a fire so hot it threatened to consume me.
Shen Ze immediately scrambled to kneel, ignoring his throbbing knee. "Your Highness! You are here!"
The Third Prince glanced at the weeping, burned Lu Yao with mild distaste, then fixed his predatory gaze squarely on me. "Duchess Lu. It seems you are bullying the weak. The Emperor values harmony above all within his subjects' homes. If word of your vicious jealousy reaches the palace, I fear the Lu family's sterling reputation will suffer."
He was threatening me. He needed Shen Ze's absolute loyalty and control over my family's hidden wealth, which meant he needed to suppress my authority immediately.
"Harmony is maintained through strict rules, Your Highness," I said, remaining standing. I stared him dead in the eye, refusing to bow my head. "A concubine trying to scald the Legitimate Duchess is a crime punishable by death. I am merely teaching her manners. Or does the Third Prince believe that concubines should rule over legitimate wives?"
The hall went dead silent.
Li Xuan’s eyes narrowed dangerously. The current Empress was not his biological mother; his mother was merely a favored Consort. My words were a direct, surgical strike at his biggest insecurity—his status as a concubine's son trying to usurp the legitimate heir.
"You have a very sharp tongue, Duchess," Li Xuan hissed, stepping closer to me, his aura flaring with lethal intent. "But sharp tongues often get cut out."
[System Warning: Lethal Intent Detected. Triggering Emergency Quest: Seek a Patron!] [Quest Target Approaching: The Ninth Prince, Li Jin.]
"Is that so?" A new voice, calm and deep as an ancient bronze bell, drifted from the courtyard behind the Third Prince.
Through the open doors, a servant pushed a heavy wooden wheelchair over the threshold. The man sitting in it wore pure white silk, entirely devoid of imperial ornamentation. His face was devastatingly handsome, pale like moonlight, but his eyes held the terrifying depth of an abyss. A thick, dark blanket covered his paralyzed legs.
The Ninth Prince, Li Jin. The "Crippled Prince."
In my past life, he had died under mysterious circumstances a year before the rebellion. The world mocked him, discarded him as useless. But my military father had always said, in hushed tones, that Li Jin was the only true tactical genius the Imperial family had produced in a century.
"Ninth Brother," Li Xuan sneered, not even bothering to bow. "What is a cripple doing out in the damp morning air? Be careful not to catch a cold and die on us. The Imperial tombs are currently full."
Li Jin ignored his brother completely. His dark, unfathomable eyes bypassed Shen Ze, bypassed the Third Prince, and locked instantly onto mine.
"I heard the Duchess of Zhenguo makes excellent tea," Li Jin said, his voice smooth and commanding. "I came to beg for a cup."
I felt the tides of destiny shifting beneath my feet. I smiled, a genuine, terrifying smile that made Shen Ze flinch.
"For you, Your Highness?" I bowed gracefully, my golden hairpins chiming. "I will brew the finest."
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