Feng Zhiwei started in alarm, immediately withdrawing her hand and swiftly straightening up. Ignoring the scalding hot steamed bun, she grabbed it in one motion and stuffed it into her bosom, twisting her body to rush toward the rear window—two steps away was the kitchen’s rear window. The window was very low. Flipping out would lead to a low grove of flowering rocks. As long as she could flip out, she’d have a way to escape. No matter what, at this moment she shouldn’t appear here.

However, she was ultimately one step too late.

Not that her reaction wasn’t fast, but just as she rushed out, she saw someone also rushing toward that direction one step ahead of her, climbing the window ledge and flipping out. Probably too panicked, just after landing they twisted their ankle. Faintly she heard an “Ai yo!” cry of pain.

A familiar voice.

Feng Zhiwei stopped in her tracks.

She stood before the window, gaze lowered. In that instant, her face flashed with anger, helplessness, worry, hatred and other complexly intertwined expressions.

Then she took a deep breath, turned around, and quickly and steadily placed the steamed bun back in the pot.

To flip out the window now was already impossible. The fine breathing beneath the window enduring pain told her the food thief couldn’t move. If she flipped out, she’d be discovered together with them, and then it would be even harder to explain.

At this moment, the kitchen had already erupted in clamor. The managers and cooks from the outer rooms all rushed over.

“It’s you—” The first half-aged beauty looking at Feng Zhiwei standing with her back to the window spoke with angry surprise in her tone, yet a trace of triumphant secret delight floated through her eyes.

Feng Zhiwei secretly cursed her bad luck—this was Kitchen Manager Aunt An, a widow who’d lost her husband years ago. She’d always wanted to sleep with Manager Liu of the outer courtyard who wielded considerable power. But Manager Liu found her old face like orange peel that couldn’t be concealed even with powder, and was single-mindedly focused on sleeping with young Feng Zhiwei. The old woman therefore found her displeasing to the eye—it had already been a long time.

Aunt An’s gaze quickly swept across the table, suddenly her expression changed drastically and she rushed over.

“You actually ruined the Gold Thread Swallow Fruit offered to the princess!”

Because the window panels were wide open, the steam had dispersed, revealing a jade cup on the table carefully covered with a silver mesh cover. Only now the silver mesh cover was flipped to one side, the jade cup half-tilted, the half-congealed cream-like substance inside spilled all over the table. The jade cup’s edge still bore several dark black fingerprints, looking extremely dirty and wretched.

The sweet fragrance in the air grew even stronger. Feng Zhiwei inhaled slightly, her heart sinking several more degrees. Although she didn’t know what this thing was, very obviously, it was absolutely a treasure.

“How can we explain this? How can we explain this!” Aunt An had originally only wanted to give Feng Zhiwei a bit of embarrassment, discovering someone had entered and keeping silent. Who would have thought they’d actually touched the meal to be offered to Shaoning? Seeing the meal was about to be served, this had truly provoked great disaster. She glared hatefully at Feng Zhiwei. If before there had been a bit of borrowing势 to make a fuss, now she truly hated her to the bone.

From beneath the window faintly came some abnormal sounds, like some object inadvertently scraping against the wall, but it was covered by Aunt An’s heavy breathing. Feng Zhiwei kept her expression composed, her fingers slightly clenching.

“Miss Feng…” A middle-aged woman at Aunt An’s side drew out her final tone eerily, her face iron-blue. “This Gold Thread Swallow Fruit was purchased with great difficulty by Second Young Master from Great Yue at enormous cost—one liang costs several thousand gold. Then using secret methods not passed down, steaming and sun-drying nine times each, matched with over ten refined ingredients including Snow Mountain Purple Mushroom… Throughout, only expensive Black Stone Wood could be used as fuel material… Making this one cup, not to mention how much money spent and how much effort expended, these are all unique treasures. Tomorrow when the princess is served her meal, what will we use for the offering?”

Feng Zhiwei listened to these ingredient names representing golden mountains and silver seas, secretly annoyed in her heart. Taking a deep breath, she said: “I only came to heat up a steamed bun, I didn’t touch that.”

“Then who did?” Aunt An sneered coldly, her gaze aggressively oppressive.

Feng Zhiwei’s fingers clenched again. However, immediately afterward she said calmly: “Your kitchen has so many people, rushing over so quickly just now, whoever touched it could be pos—”

“Smack!”

The crisp sound of palm meeting skin startled everyone’s eyebrows into jumping.

Feng Zhiwei only felt her brain buzz with a ring. Then her face went numb. The numbness hadn’t yet dispersed when burning, stinging pain rolled in. In her mouth was a slightly fishy sweet taste. Even her gums were convulsing with pain.

What a vicious slap!

Aunt An, hand raised, also froze, seeming somewhat unable to believe she’d actually struck.

She originally hadn’t thought to go too far. After all, Feng Zhiwei was nominally a master. In the strictly hierarchical Tiansheng dynasty, those below offending those above was great disrespect. However, today’s matter was exceptional. She was already anxious as焚 about tomorrow’s meal service. In urgent anger, seeing this little hoof so calm and composed, her blood rushed hot in fury, her brain went dizzy. When she came to her senses, opposite her Feng Zhiwei’s face was already a riot of colors.

Complete silence.

After a long while, a thin thread of blood slowly bloomed from the corner of Feng Zhiwei’s lips, tragic and gorgeous as a残花. Everyone’s expressions changed.

Feng Zhiwei raised her hand, fingers lightly pressing her lip corner, carefully examining the bloodstain on her fingertip, then… smiled.

Her hair had been struck into disarray. Her smile was half-hidden, half-visible within her dark hair, sunken in the surrounding still-undispersed mist and this corner’s half-bright, half-dark shadows. She looked gentle yet severe, contradictorily chilling, causing Aunt An who stood opposite her constantly watching to shiver with a cold tremor.

Only now did she remember—at any rate, Feng Zhiwei still held miss status. Her mother was a proper master of this mansion, allegedly also possessed a violent temper…

However, she immediately steeled her courage—struck was struck, what could she do? Honestly speaking, previously it was because she was well-behaved, not giving people opportunities to catch her in error. Even wanting to discipline her there was no chance. Today since she’d delivered herself to the door and they occupied the right, not striking would be a waste. Could she possibly escape the great crime of “stealing items for imperial use”? Moreover, at any rate she herself was Madam’s dowry maid, a person of standing and face in this mansion. Disciplining a lowly woman’s daughter of unclear origins—what was there to fear!

These thoughts flashed by in an instant. Then Aunt An, having started, wouldn’t stop halfway. She pointed at Feng Zhiwei, shouting sternly: “Seize this bold and audacious woman who stole tribute goods! Deliver her to Madam for punishment!”