A gentle breeze stirs, and the butterflies flutter. The windows and tables are clean and bright, reflecting the red glow of the moon. The white linen drapes sway with the wind, the other end of the fabric gently flowing. Before the bronze mirror, the lady combs her hair and arranges her makeup. Her hair like clouds, her face as blooming flowers—yet she still sees no care from her beloved. Married to the general’s household for fifteen years, they once shared deep affection and mutual favor. But why, in a moment, has he forgotten her? Suddenly, as the red candles illuminate the embroidered bed, and the peacock-feather handkerchief is taken down, that handsome face captures her heart completely. She had always believed their love would be enduring, unshakable—she even willingly softened her proud demeanor. Yet now, as her beauty remains youthful and her grace unchanged, her love has faded. One after another, new wives enter the household, freezing the tender heart of her once-softened bride. Though she weeps and cries, she cannot regain his affection. Only now does she realize that her beloved has always been so cold and distant. Her efforts to be patient and humble only reveal her own foolishness. From "Mother, mother..." The pleading call drew back the drifting thoughts of the beauty before the mirror, and as she turned around, the lingering sorrow on her face had vanished. Hearing her daughter's voice, a gentle, loving smile spread across her features. "Mu Zhaoyun furrowed her brows," "Isn't that the most remote part of the estate?" What could be so remarkable about a young maid from there? "Mother, it's Ling Wanwan," Cold Yue stood up and called out, "It's the ungrateful maid who gave birth to Ling Wanwan." It would not be possible to bear his children; he had only three—Cold Moon and her two siblings. "Mother, that cold, slender girl is a demon." Cold Moon, though young, could not read the complexity in Mu Zhao Yun’s expression. She recalled the sudden fire that had come without cause, and felt a growing sense of unease. "A demon? What are you talking about, child?" Mu Zhao Yun composed herself, gently tapping Cold Moon’s forehead with her slender hand, her tone full of fondness. "She’s only three years old—how could she possibly harm you?" At first, the girl had been unable to tolerate her, yet who could have guessed that her fate would prove so strong? The poison had been added to Xiao Lian’s porridge, yet the child within her remained unharmed. Not only did she survive safely, but the general himself had learned of her, making it difficult for anyone to strike again. Still, if she wished to grow up safely, it would not be easy. Among the many attendants in this grand household, those less favored often found themselves at the mercy of others, constantly being treated unfairly. "Mother, it’s true," Cold Moon said, surprised that her mother did not "Indeed, she is a true fairy maiden—she can summon fire. Just a few days ago, the very forest that Father cherished most was set ablaze by her; today, when I came to visit her out of kindness, not only did she strike Qiu Tang, but she also encircled us with her magical fire, a fact that our servants can all attest to. Mother, you must defend my honor." She cooed, gently shaking her arm. Though she hadn't witnessed the forest being burned by Ling Wanwan earlier, it now seemed undeniable that it was Ling Wanwan who had conjured fire today—especially since she was present at the scene. "Can she truly summon fire out of thin air?" She didn't believe her daughter's claim of goodwill. Knowing her daughter best, she knew her daughter's nature was just as tenacious as her own—how could she have come to visit that girl with such good intentions? Yet, her daughter insisted that Ling Wanwan had struck Qiu Tang and surrounded them with magical fire. It all sounded utterly incredible. After all, Ling Wanwan was merely a child of three years old—how could she wield such magical fire? Still, her daughter's firm conviction left her both intrigued and doubtful "Thinking for a moment, she called out to the outside. 'Madam.' A maid in a blue floral dress entered, bowing slightly to Mu Zhaoyun. 'What may I do for you?' 'Gather together Qiu Tang and all the servants and maids who accompanied the lady today.' 'Yes,' the maid bowed and withdrew. 'Mother, I think Bingwan has changed. She's not the same girl she used to be.' Cold Yueci sat beside Mu Zhaoyun, biting her lip. 'Didn't we always say that girl was timid, always taken advantage of? Yet today's Bingwan is clearly not timid at all. Sometimes, I even feel she's like...' Suddenly, she stopped. 'Like what?' Mu Zhaoyun asked, puzzled—why hadn't she finished? 'Like—' Cold Yueci looked at Mu Zhaoyun, then closed her eyes and spoke loudly. 'Like Father.' 'Nonsense,' Mu Zhaoyun immediately scolded, 'How could that girl possibly resemble the General?' You must know that only you and your brother and younger brother are truly like the general—his children. That girl is merely a common-born; how could she resemble you so much? "Daughter said she looked like her, but I'm talking about her eyes—cold, distant, so that every time she looks at you, you can't help but shiver. Just like Father." In memory, Father was always away for long periods, and when he returned, he was always cold and formal. It seemed as though he didn't care for us at all, yet I deeply admired him. Everyone outside says Father is a great hero—commanding armies, fighting on the battlefield, preserving the peace of the frontier, which allowed the Tian Yao Dynasty to flourish and grow strong. "Really?" Mu Zhaoyun was startled. That common girl actually has eyes like the general's? How unfair! Her three children all resemble him in appearance, yet none of them share the general's grace. "Madam, Qutang and the others have arrived," came the clear voice of the maid in a blue floral dress from outside. "Come in," Mu Zhaoyun composed herself, and seated Ling Yue at the table. "May I present the lady and the young lady?" Qiutang led the group of servants in, bowing slightly. "Hmm," Mu Zhaoyun nodded. "I heard you've been injured—really?" She gestured for Qiutang to raise her head. "Yes, Lady," Qiutang lifted her head, her fair face showing faint swelling. Her usually sharp eyes now glistened with tears, appearing delicate and vulnerable, touching with sympathy. "Indeed, you've been injured," Mu Zhaoyun said softly, gazing at the marks on her face. "Good thing the force wasn't too strong; otherwise, this fine face would be ruined. Remember to apply some medicine when you go down, understand?" "Thank you, Lady," Qiutang bowed, her head lowered, her eyes concealing a quiet pride. Indeed, she Qiutang was no ordinary person—her even the Lady herself treated her with such tenderness. No one would dare to look down upon her now. "Have you met Lady from the Northern Wing?" Mu Zhaoyun's gaze swept over the group of servants, completely losing the earlier warmth. She arched her delicate brows slightly, conveying a touch of sternness. "Yes "Everyone replied in unison, their hearts still pounding with fear. They had never expected the usually timid Lady Wanyan to prove so capable—indeed, to wield magic! The flames roared so fiercely that they almost thought they would be consumed alive." "Cough," said Ling Yue, clearing her throat and raising her brows with a stern expression, her eyes fixed on them. "You have only me as your lady." "Oh, yes—we only saw a young maid," the clever servants quickly interjected. "Yue," said Mu Zhao Yun, glancing at Ling Yue before turning to them. "Did she really use fire to trap you?" "Yes," the group nodded, suddenly finding Lady Wanyan more intimidating than the eldest lady. While the eldest was merely proud and aloof, this younger lady, so young and delicate, could summon magic at will—magic that could end someone's life at a moment's notice. For their own safety, they would now make a point of keeping well clear of her whenever they encountered her. "Never mind," Mu Zhao Yun said. "You may now go down." Muzhao Yun glanced at their expressions and indeed saw genuine fear, not mere pretense. She waved her hand, signaling for everyone to leave. "Retreat, your servant." "Retreat, your maid." The attendants bowed and slowly withdrew. "Mother, now do you believe me?" Cold Yue regretfully said. "That girl truly has supernatural powers." Muzhao Yun remained silent—this was most unusual. The girl had always been timid before, yet now she seemed so formidable. Could she possibly have magical abilities? Could it be— A breeze from the window swept in, causing Wei Man to sway gently, as though a ghost had arrived without a sound. Muzhao Yun suddenly gasped—was it the spirit of Xiao Lian haunting her? Did she wish to exact her vengeance? Plump—she slid off her chair and fell to the ground. "Mother, what's wrong?" Cold Yue jumped up in alarm and quickly knelt beside her. Muzhao Yun lifted her gaze, her clear eyes shimmering with fierce intensity. She spoke slowly and deliberately: "That girl must not be kept." Ha ha, it's the second night.