Chapter 3: The Foolish Yan San

"Fool, drink your medicine!"

An Ran lay on a lounge chair. Dappled sunlight filtered through the intricate green leaves, spilling onto her beautiful face. Her skin was fair, appearing almost translucent.

Her lips were pressed tightly together as if she were troubled by something, yet her hands were busy toying with a jade pendant she had taken from a man.

Perhaps because it had left its owner, the soft glow the pendant once emitted had completely faded. Now, it looked like nothing more than a piece of high-quality jade, entirely different from the peerless treasure she had seen that night.

Hearing the voice, An Ran’s hand moved slightly, tucking the pendant into her sleeve. She sighed, ignoring the noisy woman, and continued to dwell on her worries.

It seemed she had stirred up trouble—trouble that concerned life and death.

That day, she had slipped out of a dilapidated temple, managed to dig the original owner’s identity out of the remnants of memory in her brain, and snuck back into the manor in the middle of the night.

She had transmigrated into a place called the Great An Kingdom. Her identity was the Third Miss of the Prince Yan Manor. It was a noble status, but unfortunately, the original owner was a fool—a fool forgotten in a corner, someone whom everyone could bully.

But that wasn't what An Ran cared about. What mattered was that she had offended someone she shouldn't have.

To describe that man, only seven words would suffice: wild, tyrannical, cool, handsome, and heaven-defyingly arrogant. He wore deep purple cloud-patterned brocade, which no one in the world dared to wear, and the gold mask he wore was the hallmark of his identity.

He associated with the Emperor of the Great An Kingdom as an equal, and the kings of the four vassal states bowed to him in half-salute. In the pugilistic world, he was known as Young Master Shen, the Emperor of the Dark Night, and the Golden-Masked Ghost King—a title that was never spoken aloud.

No one in the world knew his true identity, and no one had ever seen his true face. But once that deep purple cloud-patterned brocade and golden mask appeared, wherever he went, if people didn't kneel, they would at least retreat three hundred paces.

And she—she had knocked him unconscious, robbed him, stripped him bare, and tied him up.

When An Ran learned of that man’s identity, the three glaring words "You are dead" crashed down upon her head, leaving her dizzy and disoriented.

On her first day of transmigrating, she had offended the world’s biggest boss to death. What was she supposed to do?

Dongmei held the medicine bowl, and seeing no movement from the fool for a long time, she grew angry and kicked the lounge chair. "Fool, drink the medicine for me right now!"

The lounge chair shook violently. An Ran slowly opened her eyes and glanced at Dongmei. Her pitch-black eyes, carrying a bone-chilling coldness, shot straight at Dongmei, making her shiver.

Dongmei couldn't quite believe it. Since when did this fool have such a sharp, piercing gaze?

"I won't drink it, I won't drink it, it's bitter!"

The next moment, An Ran acted like a three-year-old child. Her red lips pouted in dissatisfaction, and her large, watery eyes looked at Dongmei pitifully.

Dongmei scrutinized An Ran carefully. She looked the same as always, her clear, large eyes filled with a hint of foolishness. That trace of bone-chilling coldness seemed to have been just her imagination.

Dongmei breathed a sigh of relief and pushed the medicine bowl forward, though she was slightly more polite. "Bitter or not, you have to drink it. This was ordered by the Old Master!"

"I won't drink it!" An Ran shouted angrily, raising her hand to knock the bowl over. The steaming medicine splashed all over Dongmei, and the bowl fell to the ground, shattering into pieces.

Before Dongmei could lose her temper, she felt her leg get kicked by An Ran. Her body instantly went limp, and she fell to her knees, landing right on the shards. Blood flowed immediately, and the pain was so intense that Dongmei could only moan.

An Ran sneered. This Dongmei was the head maid by the original owner’s side, specifically tasked with serving her medicine, but this maid acted more like the mistress than the original owner did.

She wore the original owner’s clothes, ate the original owner’s food, and even slept in the original owner’s room.

Yet, every day, she served the original owner a bowl of poison, without fail, rain or shine.

Today was just the first installment of interest.

"Fun, so fun!"

An Ran clapped her hands and laughed. Dongmei glared at An Ran viciously, but An Ran only laughed even more happily.

Seeing An Ran laughing so joyfully, Dongmei was consumed by rage. She had been harmed so badly by a fool today. "The medicine was ordered by the Old Master himself! You dare to spill it? You are simply courting death!"

An Ran pouted, looking very aggrieved. "The medicine—you spilled it, and you're still yelling at me!" As she spoke, she began to punch and kick Dongmei. "I'll beat you to death, I'll beat you to death!"

Although An Ran’s fists were small, every punch landed on a pressure point, ensuring that each blow would make Dongmei regret ever being born.

"You fool, stop it right now!"