The warm summer breeze now felt crisp and sharp, making the swaying roses tremble. "Y-you hit me?" Qiu Tang clutched her face, eyes wide with disbelief, staring at Ling Wanwan who had effortlessly leapt to the ground. How could this short, plump girl—this little winter gourd—have dared to strike her? Her face flushed with embarrassment and anger, the once delicate features now taking on a fierce, almost wild appearance. "What's so special about hitting you?" Ling Wanwan's lips curled into a cold, steady smile. She could afford to be bold before such a person as Qiu Tang—no matter how high her status or noble her lineage, she would still hit her without hesitation. "Miss!" The nurse was utterly stunned by the sudden scene. How had Miss Qiu turned so stern and aloof? And even more astonishing—the girl's slender frame displayed such agility and strength, delivering a powerful blow that now reddened Miss Qiu’s cheeks. Heaven help her! The little lady had truly gotten herself into trouble. In a swift motion, she stepped forward to shield Ling Wanwan behind her. "Miss?" Cing Yue's eyes widened in astonishment as she pointed at the short girl. "Is this the one named Ling Wanwan?" Impossible! Didn’t everyone say that Ling Wanwan was timid and meek—always taken for granted, constantly bullied? This petite winter gourd was anything but fragile. Her cold, sharp gaze radiated like a fierce young lion, ready to tear through any intruder who dared to challenge her territory. So composed, so icy, even Cing Yue found herself involuntarily shivering in awe. "Little short one?" Ling Wanwan scoffed. Truly, a beauty with no brain—just like a peacock who only knows how to fan her feathers and never acts. Didn’t she know I was just three years old when she was ten? "My lady," Cing Yue said, trying to smooth over the slight rebuke from the nurse, "this is Lady Ling Wanwan—the younger sister of your grace." The very word "little short one" had drawn a frown from the nurse. Didn’t it make sense that with their outer courtyard staff often holding down expenses and cutting corners on Lady Ling’s provisions, she might have remained so slender? Cing Yue’s gaze settled firmly upon her, emphasizing each syllable of “your sister.” "Nonsense," Cing Yue snapped, as though her tail had been stepped on. "I have no such younger sister!" Her mother was a noble countess—her very bloodline was noble—and this small maid-born girl? How could she possibly hold the same rank as her own sister? She fixed a sharp, disdainful gaze upon Ling Wanwan, as if the entire household were nothing but a proud peacock standing tall and unshakable. "My lady is most overbearing," the nurse protested. What about the maids? They too had parents—unless forced to—how could they endure such treatment from the ladies of the house? "Lady Ling’s mother, Xiao Lian, was merely a secondary consort of General Li. You should have acknowledged her as the fourth lady." Such arrogance and lack of grace could only be taught by a domineering general wife—the very image of an unbalanced household at the top. Well—excellent! Ling Wanwan's eyes sparkled with a fierce, almost hungry intensity. She smiled faintly, lips curled in a slow, teasing arc. Of course the tiger wouldn’t rise up unless it felt truly threatened. Right now, she was being treated like an unwell patient, constantly belittled as merely "a low-born scion." If Ling Wanwan didn't show her true strength, what would be the point? With a soft, gentle hand, she lightly patted the nurse to calm her, not wanting to see her overwhelmed. "I don’t even have an elder sister," Ling Wanwan stepped forward from behind the nurse. "The only daughter of my mother, and there wasn't even room for another." "Pfft!" Ling Wanwan’s words caused the already agitated nurse to burst into laughter. Even the attendants standing behind Cing Yue couldn’t help but smile, hiding their faces as they listened. Though they didn’t understand how this once timid girl had transformed so dramatically, seeing Miss Cing Yue humbled was a welcome relief—after all, for years the General had been away on official duties, and Lady Cing and her daughter had ruled with such pomp and pride that even the servants often bore the brunt of their authority. "You—" Cing Yue’s face flushed crimson, like a monkey’s behind, as she pointed at Ling Wanwan, shaking slightly in frustration. "Indeed, truly reversed!" Qiu Tang clutched her now-red cheeks, adding fuel to the fire. "Miss! These very maids and servants have swallowed their pride—how can they treat you with such disrespect?" She glared fiercely behind her at those who had been watching her being struck, knowing perfectly well that they were secretly delighted when she was treated unjustly. "Forgive us, Miss!" The attendants instantly fell to their knees upon hearing this, faces pale as ghosts, begging for mercy. Deep down, however, they cursed Qiu Tang silently—she would surely suffer in the long run if such treatment continued. "Hmph—" Cing Yue’s very posture shifted with renewed confidence. With her gaze fixed on both the nurse and Ling Wanwan, she seemed to say: "See? If you keep begging, I shall consider sparing you." "Indeed a peacock," Ling Wanwan said with quiet amusement, “who only opens up her fan and makes squeaky noises.” "You—" Cing Yue stomped her feet. "How dare you insult me, this lowly girl! You’ve just spoken of being a 'low-born scion'—you’re setting yourself on the path to death! Call for help!" Her voice rose with growing anger, as if flames were burning behind her eyes. "Miss?" Qiu Tang quickly lowered her hand from her face, eager and deferential. "Give her a firm slap," Cing Yue commanded, pointing firmly at Ling Wanwan. "I must show her what it means to be truly ungrateful—otherwise, this low-born scion will indeed turn the world upside down." "Yes!" Qiu Tang brightened instantly, rubbing her hands with renewed vigor, showing clear malice as she approached Ling Wanwan. What better opportunity to settle the score? "Miss—" The nurse watched in growing concern as Qiu Tang’s expression shifted—she clearly wanted to fight for justice. "Hmm—" Ling Wanwan gently patted the nurse's arm, reassuring her with a calm gesture. A faint smile curled on her lips—a smooth, elegant smile that didn’t belong to a child at all. Her eyes danced with unusual brilliance, and suddenly, even Qiu Tang’s fierce demeanor faltered—her own presence seemed to dim. With a soft step, she retreated slightly behind Cing Yue, her earlier intensity now softened by the contrast of calm grace. "Little Miss," the nurse stammered, stepping closer, her confidence clearly shaken. "You’ve just been outdone." "Dumb, clumsy girl," Cing Yue muttered with fierce eyes, turning to face the two maids who had been summoned. "You—both of you—go up and teach them a lesson!" "What?" both maids stammered in unison. They exchanged glances, unsure how to respond, yet they couldn’t help but tremble under Cing Yue’s intense gaze as they slowly stood. Their hands hovered over Ling Wanwan, who stood poised and calm—her posture now strong and confident. Even they felt a chill at the sight. "Useless," Cing Yue declared with rising frustration. As she spoke, Ling Wanwan continued to move gently, her eyes steady. Then suddenly, in one swift motion, she began to sway her silver bell—tapping it softly against the air. The sound rang out clearly: *ding-dong*, *ding-dong*. As the rhythm grew steady, a series of flames erupted around them, rising from the ground and forming a circle that encircled everyone. Cing Yue and her attendants stood frozen in place. "Aha!" The flames surged upward, twisting like graceful spirits, opening their mouths to spray out bright tongues of fire. The heat intensified—so intense that the attendants’ eyes began to flutter with wide alarm, shouting with growing panic. "An ox-demon! A spirit from another world!" "Miss!" The nurse finally snapped back into awareness, hearing the cries. "We must save them now—they’re in danger!" She seized Ling Wanwan’s hand, urgently urging her. She instinctively believed this was the very thing the young lady had summoned—regardless of the reason, such a spectacle could not end without serious consequences. After all, it would be Lady Cing who suffered most from such an unexpected event. As Cing Yue grew visibly shaken, Ling Wanwan resumed her gentle movements—her hand now continuously swaying the silver bell. The sound danced with rhythmic joy—like music responding to a command. Gradually, one by one, the flames began to fade and then vanish completely. By now, Cing Yue and her attendants lay motionless on the ground, their once proud postures replaced entirely by fear. The breeze flowed silently through the garden—the sharpness of everyone’s breaths now clearly audible. It took a long while before Cing Yue finally lifted her head. Her hair was disheveled, her face pale and scattered with sweat. She gazed at Ling Wanwan with wide eyes and whispered: "You are not just a mere lady. You are a little spirit—a true fairy."