Chapter 59: Bright Moon, Slap Her Face

He would never trust anyone's words again. Whoever told him that Xie Ning was all bluff and no bite was entirely mistaken.

Mingyue looked at everything unfolding before her with a completely expressionless face.

"Let's go," Xie Ning said, casually straightening his robes. "Since there is nothing to eat here, we shall go to a place where there is food."

A playful, amused smile curved the corners of Xie Ning's lips.

Inside the main kitchen of the Marquis of Dingyuan’s estate, a bustling scene was currently underway.

More than a dozen cooks and kitchen hands were hard at work, preparing breakfast for the entire household. The air was rich with the enticing aromas of various foods.

At a table specially reserved for the servants to dine, several female cooks had gathered together, eating their breakfast while conversing in low voices.

Their meal consisted of freshly steamed white-flour buns, accompanied by bowls of piping-hot soy milk and several plates of appetizing, crisp pickles.

Compared to Xie Ning's special ration, their breakfast was as different as heaven and earth.

On the stove behind them, several exquisite dishes were being kept warm over a gentle fire. There was translucent bird's nest congee, fragrant crab roe soup dumplings, and several plates of pastries that instantly made one's mouth water.

All of these had been prepared specifically for Jia Yibo, the Old Dowager, and Jia Huizu.

"Hey, do you suppose that if we only send Xie Ning a bowl of plain congee and a coarse corn bun, he'll get so furious he'll flip the table over?" a plump female cook asked, taking a bite out of a bun with a gloating expression.

"What is there to fear?" another cook with a sharp mouth and monkey cheeks sneered, curling her lips. "This was ordered personally by the Old Dowager herself. Even if his anger reaches the heavens, he has no choice but to swallow it."

"Exactly. The Old Mistress has returned, which means the sky in this Marquis's estate has changed. When is it ever his turn—a motherless wretch—to strut around flaunting his authority?"

"Mark my words, he's going to suffer plenty from now on!"

The women chatted animatedly, their faces filled with the anticipation of a good show.

Just at that moment—

*Bang!*

The kitchen doors were kicked open violently from the outside.

The deafening crash startled everyone in the room. The kitchen instantly fell silent as every pair of hands stopped working, and all eyes turned toward the entrance in absolute astonishment.

Xie Ning walked in leisurely, his hands clasped behind his back, taking unhurried, measured steps.

Right behind him, Mingyue followed with her usual expressionless demeanor.

"You ladies are having quite a wonderful meal, aren't you?"

Xie Ning's gaze swept over the white buns and soy milk on the female cooks' table, a trace of a playful smile playing on his lips.

The moment the cooks caught sight of Xie Ning, the smiles froze instantly on their faces, and the buns slipped from their hands onto the table.

Speak of the devil!

Why on earth had this malevolent star wandered into the kitchen?!

"This Heir cannot even manage to get a single white-flour bun to eat, yet the lot of you are living quite comfortably."

Xie Ning's voice was flat and indifferent, but to everyone's ears, it sounded like a sudden clap of thunder.

The moment his voice trailed off, Mingyue stepped forward and slammed the tray she had been carrying onto the servants' dining table with a loud *clatter*.

The bowl of thin congee, the dark corn bun, and the empty saucer of peanuts were thus presented for everyone to see.

Everyone held their breath in absolute terror, not even daring to breathe loudly.

Especially the cooks who had been making sarcastic remarks just moments before; their faces drained of all color, and their entire bodies trembled uncontrollably.

"A coarse yellow-flour bun."

Xie Ning's gaze slowly swept across every single person present, his eyes as cold as ice, devoid of the slightest trace of warmth.

"Who gave you the gall?"

As soon as those words left his mouth, all the cooks dropped to their knees with a collective *thud*.

"Spare our lives, Your Lordship! Spare our lives! It has nothing to do with us; this was all ordered by the Old Dowager!"

One of the cooks reacted the fastest, immediately attempting to shift the blame onto the Old Dowager. She figured that invoking the Old Dowager's name would surely force Xie Ning to restrain himself.

However, she was far too naive.

"The Old Dowager?"

Xie Ning let out a cold chuckle. "Did the Old Dowager instruct you to dock my rightful portions, or did she instruct you to spit in my food?"

The cook choked on her words, her complexion turning even more ghastly. She hadn't been present at Fushen Hall yesterday and thus knew nothing of what had transpired there. Had she known, she certainly would not have spoken thus.

"We wouldn't dare, Your Lordship."

"You wouldn't dare?"

Xie Ning's gaze suddenly sharpened. Pointing straight at the sharp-mouthed cook, he said coldly, "The remarks you made behind my back just now about me being motherless—was that also taught to you by the Old Dowager?"

Upon hearing this, the cook shuddered violently, freezing in utter shock.

How on earth did Xie Ning find out about that? She had clearly spoken in a hushed whisper just then. Could he possibly possess supernatural hearing?

Little did she know that Xie Ning's auditory perception was so acute that not only could he hear whispered murmurs, but he could even discern the gender of a mosquito flying past him.

"It seems I have been far too lenient with all of you lately."

Xie Ning's patience was wearing thin. He turned to Mingyue and commanded, "Go fetch the steward. Tell him that these people in the kitchen have sticky fingers and are unclean, so I want every single one of them sold off. Sell them to the lowest-tier brothels, so they can properly experience what it feels like to wait on others for the rest of their lives."

Xie Ning delivered these words as casually as if he were discussing the weather.

Yet, upon hearing them, the female cooks trembled from head to toe.

"No, please, Your Lordship!"

"We were wrong! We truly were wrong!"

"We'll talk! We'll tell you everything!"

The women completely broke down, crying and kowtowing as they begged for mercy.

The plump cook was the first to crack. She pointed straight at the sharp-mouthed cook and blurted out, "It was... it was Cuihuan! Cuihuan had just returned from the Old Dowager's quarters, and she was the one who instructed us to do this. She was also the one who initiated the gossip behind your back!"

"That's right, it was her!" the other cooks chimed in, rushing to bear witness against their companion.

When a wall is about to collapse, everyone gives it a push. At a time like this, who cared about sisterly bonds? Preserving one's own skin was paramount.

The cook named Cuihuan turned as pale as death. She had never expected that all of her companions would betray her so readily.

She lifted her head, glaring with venomous hatred at her former "sisters," before casting an equally resentful look at Xie Ning.

"Xie Ning, don't get too full of yourself!"

She suddenly leaped up from the floor, shrieking like a madwoman. "The Old Mistress has returned, and Marquis Jia is still here as well! It is not your place to run this household. If you dare to lay a hand on me today, the Old Mistress and the Marquis will never let you off!"

She believed that invoking the Old Dowager and Jia Yibo would be enough to cow Xie Ning.

However, what she met instead was a cruel, bloodthirsty smile plastered across Xie Ning's face.

"Very well." Xie Ning nodded slightly. "It seems you still haven't figured out the situation."

"Mingyue."

"Present."

"Slap her across the face," Xie Ning stated indifferently. "Until she learns how to properly address me."

"Understood!"

Mingyue acknowledged the order, a cold glint flashing in her eyes. She had long since found this acid-tongued cook thoroughly detestable.

With a sudden blur of motion, Mingyue materialized directly in front of the cook named Cuihuan.

Before Cuihuan could even register what was happening or recover from the shock, a heavy, force-laden palm lashed across her face with brutal precision.