Chapter 60
Chapter 60: A Poisonous Scheme Takes Shape
Xiao Man fled back to her room as if wolves were at her heels. The door slammed; the bolt slid home—one smooth, frantic motion.
She pressed her back to the cold wood. Her knees went soft. Her heart hammered so hard it rattled her ribs.
Her cheeks burned. If she slapped a raw egg against her face right now, it would probably cook.
Lin Qing Xuan.
A man who lived on vegetarian fare, recited sutras, and claimed to keep clear of worldly dust—how could he deliver flirtatious words like he’d practiced them for years and still not blush?
Her wrist still tingled where he’d held her, where he’d spread balm—like a feather brushing her skin again and again, a faint current pricking straight into her bones.
She wanted to rub it hard, to press that sensation down until it became part of her flesh.
But she was afraid the moment she touched it, it would vanish.
“Hah… hah…” She clutched her chest and forced herself to breathe.
At this rate, she was going to die of heart failure before anything else happened.
A thin, nasty laugh slipped through the crack beneath the door.
“Hee-hee…”
Black mist gathered in front of her, stretching into a crude human shape. It cleared its throat theatrically, then pinched its voice into Lin Qing Xuan’s low, magnetic tone.
“The one I guide hand over hand while copying sutras—”
It drew out the words, circling her like a taunting ghost.
“Only you…”
“I’ll blow on it for you, and it won’t hurt anymore…”
Something in Xiao Man snapped cleanly.
Her eyes went red. She seized the broom by the door and swung with all her strength, not even bothering to aim.
“Get lost!”
Tuan Tuan cackled, its shape scattering into smoke as it slipped aside with insulting ease.
“Heh heh heh—embarrassed and furious, huh!”
It darted out through the window crack, its laughter trailing behind it like a curse.
Outside, it raced through the Lin Manor with reckless glee, black mist boiling like a pot about to spill.
It had seen everything from the beam.
Lin Qing Xuan’s restrained gaze.
Xiao Man’s ears burning crimson.
Delicious. The best kind of chaos.
Then it remembered someone.
Zheng Xiu Yun.
That woman was stuffed to the brim with envy and hate, her face screaming trouble the moment she stepped into a room.
And the bottle hidden in her makeup box—something rumored to soften even the most virtuous person into putty.
Spring Wind Intoxicant.
A bright, vicious idea took shape in the Heart Demon’s mind.
Tuan Tuan’s shadowy face stretched into a huge, silent grin.
Hee-hee-hee…
No more pretending. No more purity. No more lofty “enlightenment.”
If the two of them wouldn’t tear down their own masks, then Zheng Xiu Yun would do it for them.
And Zheng Xiu Yun—she truly hadn’t given up.
She sat alone, gripping the small porcelain vial so hard her fingers went white, nails nearly biting into her palm.
In the bronze mirror, her face looked twisted—ugly with hatred.
Yao Xiao Man.
A second-rank maid. A nobody.
Why did she get Lin Qing Xuan’s attention?
Why did he teach her?
Why did he lean close enough to whisper such shamelessly intimate words?
Zheng Xiu Yun’s jealousy gnawed at her like poison.
She had tried.
Three “chance encounters”—one in the garden, one outside the study, one in the sutra hall. Each time she had dressed carefully, smiled shyly, and offered her best manners.
Each time Lin Qing Xuan only nodded, cold and distant, and walked past as if she were air.
But that maid?
Hand over hand. Close enough to breathe into her ear.
Close enough to say things no monk should ever say.
Just then, a whisper seemed to bloom directly inside Zheng Xiu Yun’s head—sweet, wicked.
“Lin Qing Xuan said he only wants Yao Xiao Man—only one woman…”
The words sliced into her like a hot blade.
Zheng Xiu Yun’s fingers clenched around the vial. Her eyes went bright with madness.
She would not allow a servant girl to stand above her.
Outside, a young maid hurried past, calling toward the Auspicious Cloud Residence with crisp urgency.
“Sister Xiao Man! Old Madam prepared fresh tea snacks for Eldest Grandson Young Master. She says they should be eaten right away—she wants you to brew jasmine tea to go with them!”
In the courtyard, Granny Chen was sweeping. She looked up and pointed. “Xiao Man is in her room. If you’re in a hurry, you can take the snacks to Young Master’s study yourself.”
The young maid waved both hands, timid. “No, no—I’ll wait for Sister Xiao Man.”
Xiao Man opened the door, forced her expression into its usual professional smile, and took the tray of four-colored snacks.
Before leaving, the young maid added, “Old Madam said Young Master has been liking jasmine tea lately. She specifically told me to remind you.”
Xiao Man nodded and went on her way.
Zheng Xiu Yun’s eyes lit up.
A chance.
She grabbed the porcelain vial and slipped out, following behind Xiao Man like a shadow.
Xiao Man headed into the small kitchen of the Auspicious Cloud Residence, familiar and efficient. She boiled water, chose tea leaves, and set out a delicate white-porcelain tea set on the tray.
Then she frowned.
The usual jasmine tea was gone.
She turned and went into the small storage room to search for more.
That was all the opening Zheng Xiu Yun needed.
She slid into the kitchen like a ghost, heart pounding so hard it made her dizzy—yet her hands moved fast, steady, decisive.
She twisted off the stopper.
And poured the entire bottle of pink Spring Wind Intoxicant powder into the teapot meant for Lin Qing Xuan.
The powder dissolved the moment it touched water—colorless, tasteless, treacherously clean.
Zheng Xiu Yun’s pulse thundered. Her lips curved into a smile so satisfied it looked cruel.
Lin Qing Xuan, you love tea, don’t you?
You preach purity, don’t you?
Today, I’ll make you taste the most fevered madness of the mortal world.
When you lose your reason and tear at yourself like a beast, let’s see how you keep wearing that saintly face.
Above her, black mist churned with delight, twisting into excited shapes.
“Idiot,” it hissed. “You should pour more. Make him completely insane!”
Still wanting more chaos, Tuan Tuan nudged a teacup at the edge of the tray with a careful puff of mist.
Crash.
Xiao Man rushed back at the sound and saw porcelain shards glittering on the floor. Her brows knitted.
“That’s strange. I was sure I set it down properly…”
She didn’t think deeper. She assumed she’d been distracted—hands clumsy from a mind still in turmoil.
She crouched and began picking up the broken pieces.
And in the moment she lowered her head, Zheng Xiu Yun slipped away—silent, triumphant, smiling.