Chapter 72: Are You Questioning Me?

Hua Man couldn’t answer Hua Xi’s question and simply picked her up, saying in a deep voice, “Don’t lie on the floor.”

With that, she glanced around the house.

Not only had the entire home been covered with carpets, but a LCD TV had been added, along with some small decorative items. Even little lights hung on the walls.

Hua Man’s gaze fell on the edge of the table.

Soft anti-collision pads had been stuck there.

These were details she had never considered.

“How about it?” Yang Zhao lifted her chin proudly. “I decorated it. Looks good, right?”

She then pointed toward the kitchen. “I also stewed the soup you like.”

Hua Man scanned the room again before turning to her. “You did all this?”

“Of course.”

Yang Zhao nodded.

She had directed people to set it up, so it counted as her doing it.

She continued sitting on the sofa, peeling a lychee and popping it into her mouth. Yang Zhao curved her eyes in satisfaction.

She pointed toward the fridge. “There’s food in the fridge. I prepared some ingredients too—see what you want to cook.”

After a thought, she added, “You can order takeout if you want. I can place the order.”

Following her gesture, Hua Man noticed the fridge had been replaced.

She had bought a small second-hand one before, but now it was gone, replaced by a large double-door model.

She set Hua Xi aside and walked to the fridge. Opening it, she was stunned by what was inside.

The double-door fridge was packed full, everything neatly categorized.

Besides ingredients, there were plenty of fruits.

The freezer held ice cream and other little snacks.

In short, it had everything.

Hua Man looked back at Yang Zhao, who gazed at her like a student awaiting praise from the teacher, chin slightly raised, smug.

“How about it?”

Her voice carried obvious delight.

“Why so much?” Hua Man felt a bit overwhelmed.

Not getting praise, Yang Zhao frowned in dissatisfaction.

But the next second, Hua Man spoke again. “Still, thank you. This’ll last us a long time—it feels like we won’t finish it all.”

“If you can’t finish it, give it away.” Yang Zhao perked up, teasing, “Aren’t you the big philanthropist?”

At that, Hua Man hesitated, words on the tip of her tongue.

Yang Zhao could cover a heart patient’s full medical expenses—clearly, she was the real philanthropist compared to Hua Man.

Finally, she managed, “You’re the big philanthropist.”

“Me?” Yang Zhao laughed as if it were the biggest joke. She turned serious. “Hua Man, I’m a big villain.”

“Right, she’s a big bad egg.” Hua Xi chimed in. “Anyone who bullies kids is a big bad egg!”

Yang Zhao tsked. “Say one more word, and this big bad egg will sell you off to some mountain village.”

Hua Xi was scared into silence.

Yang Zhao lay back on the sofa, satisfied.

Yang Zhao wasn’t as opposed to Hua Xi as she had imagined, so Hua Man relaxed.

She felt like a parent bringing home a second cat, worried the new one wouldn’t adapt or the original would reject it.

But fortunately, the two “cats” got along fine.

She went to the kitchen to prepare lunch with peace of mind.

Hua Xi’s condition had improved enough for normal meals, so Hua Man made four dishes.

As for the soup, she used what Yang Zhao had prepared.

It was made with all sorts of ingredients, just like before.

The taste was great, vaguely familiar—like something she’d had before.

She had felt that way last time too.

“This soup is so good.”

Even Hua Xi couldn’t help saying.

Yang Zhao laughed smugly. “Of course.”

Hua Man savored the flavor. Tomato, enoki mushrooms, and yam stew—does it taste like this? After a moment’s thought, she looked up at Yang Zhao. “You didn’t have someone deliver this, did you?”

Yang Zhao’s eyes snapped up. “Hua Man, are you questioning me?”

She set down her bowl and chopsticks with a cold face.

“The eldest miss of the Yang family, using these soft, delicate hands to laboriously stew soup for you—and you dare question me?”

Hua Man apologized immediately. “Sorry.”

“What else can you do besides apologize?” Yang Zhao glared at her.

“So you really made this soup?” Hua Xi asked curiously from the side.

Yang Zhao crossed her arms, smug. “Of course.”

“I added a few extra ingredients, but it was truly made by this miss herself.”

She had only had her favorite private kitchen send over the base and the servants prep the ingredients, but she had personally added each one.

So how wasn’t it her stew?

“How about it?” She looked at Hua Man. “Like it?”

Her eyes sparkled like a puppy begging for praise. Though Hua Man still harbored doubts, she couldn’t deny it now.

She followed her heart. “Mm.”

Unfortunately, Yang Zhao was the type to push her luck. Seeing the admission, she pressed, “Mm what? Like it or not?”

She had to hear Hua Man say it outright.

Just like in bed, when she had to ask if she liked it, if it felt good, if she wanted more.

It always left her shy and annoyed, forcing her to find ways to shut Yang Zhao up.

Not that it really shut her up.

It just left Yang Zhao too busy with herself.

But Yang Zhao’s mouth never closed—she’d voice her real feelings then, even guide Hua Man’s hand to the most sensitive, stimulating spots.

Thinking of that, Hua Man’s expression grew unnatural.

“I like it.”

Eager to move past it, she mumbled the words.

“Good that you like it.” Yang Zhao’s eyes curved.

Seeing her smile so cutely, eyes nearly squinting shut, Hua Man’s gaze softened.

She must be going crazy.

Why else would she find Yang Zhao cuter and cuter?

In the afternoon, Hua Man took Hua Xi to the Rehabilitation Center.

Yang Zhao didn’t go along.

She had caught her people.

Lately, Zhao Ming and Qin Fangqin had been scheming to usurp her power, but they were cowardly, always surrounded by others.

For now, she wouldn’t move against them—let them hop around a bit longer to expose who else in the company was theirs.

But some people needed to settle scores.

She still remembered what happened to her Manman.

Hua Man had jumped into the pool voluntarily, but Qin Fangqin and the others had dared to mock her Manman. Of course, she’d get payback for her people.

Looking at the noblewoman sprawled on the floor, Yang Zhao sighed faintly. “You’re the one who said my Manman wasn’t up to standard?”

The noblewoman trembled in fear, tears spilling out. Gone was her usual poise as she cried, “Miss Yang, I was wrong!”

“Good that you know.” Yang Zhao nodded approvingly and beckoned. She looked toward the silent man on the side. “Uncle Zhou, what do you think we should do about this?”

The man, with thinning hair and an ugly expression, forced a smile. “This wretch is at the eldest miss’s mercy.”

The disheveled noblewoman’s eyes widened. “Old Zhou! I’m your wife—we were the ones who…”

Before she finished, Old Zhou slapped her hard.

The blow was vicious—a tooth flew out. After a brief silence came her pig-like screech.

Yang Zhao tsked, displeased. “So noisy.”

Her husband clamped a hand over the noblewoman’s mouth at once.

“Eldest miss.” He smiled obsequiously. “This wretch nags me in bed every day—that’s why I lost my head and helped Zhao Ming’s side… Please be magnanimous and forgive me this once?”

“Think you can brush it off that lightly? Uncle Zhou lacks sincerity.” Yang Zhao said, unsatisfied.

At that, a ruthless glint flashed in Old Zhou’s eyes.

He stared at his wife for a long moment before resolving. “How about losing a wife as sincerity?”

The noblewoman gaped in disbelief.

Yang Zhao laughed. “Sure.”

She watched with interest. “What kind of ‘losing a wife’ did you have in mind?”

“Whatever pleases the eldest miss.” Seeing her attitude shift, Old Zhou relaxed. “Rest assured, I’ll handle it cleanly—no mess for you.”

His tone was earnest. Yang Zhao stared at him, disgust deepening.

Before this, Mr. Zhou and his wife had been known in the circle as a model couple.

But in elite families, where was true love?

Only interests.

For interests, even lives could be discarded.

Suddenly, she felt bored. It hadn’t been long since parting from Hua Man, but she already missed her.

She stood, her gaze landing on Yu Shan. “Handle it.”

She was going to find her Manman.

“Yes, miss.”

Yu Shan smiled and agreed.

She had handled plenty for Yang Zhao and knew the drill.

Let the couple turn on each other, stop them just before a death, pretend to soothe while actually terrifying them—never specify punishment, leave them in dread, torment their spirits.

No laws broken, maximum suffering.

But…

Yu Shan thoughtfully watched the eldest miss leave.

Maybe it was an illusion, but the eldest miss seemed different now—like her thorns had retracted, the former ferocity gone.

She used to sense excitement when the miss tormented people; now, nothing.

Like she was disinterested in everything.

No.

Not everything.

Her interest in that Hua Man only grew.

Yu Shan had been abroad for so long, and upon return, not only no disgust for Hua Man—the miss had even moved into that tiny apartment.

Yu Shan found the place repulsive.

How could the miss stand it?