CHAPTER 153: CHAPTER 153; YES, MADAM

Fang Lin opened her mouth to speak more, but Yueyao quickly slid a small porcelain cup toward her, filled with golden liquid that shimmered like a captured sunset.

"Taste it," Yueyao spoke up gazing at her intently.

Fang Lin hesitated, then lifted the cup. The juice was cool and vibrant against her tongue, sweet at first but followed by a faint bitterness lingering at the back of her throat. Her eyes widened slightly.

"Do you like it? Is it to your taste?" Yueyao asked, her lips curving into the faintest smile as she finally lifted her gaze to Fang Lin’s.

There was no malice in her tone, but there was something else, something Fang Lin couldn’t decipher. She nodded slowly, though her brows knitted in confusion. "It’s... good. Different, but good."

Fang Lin lowered the cup slowly, her lips still tingling from the faint bitterness of the juice.

When she lifted her eyes, she found Yueyao watching her intently, not with the timid, kind gaze she had grown accustomed to, but with a strange, almost fierce protectiveness.

"Lin Lin," Yueyao said quietly, taking the cup back from her. "Don’t drink too much. Sweetness is good, but even sweetness can rot if taken carelessly."

Her hand brushed against Fang Lin’s as she set the cup aside, and Fang Lin felt a sudden shiver, not from fear, but from the unfamiliar weight of that gaze. Yueyao’s eyes seemed to hold a promise, one Fang Lin couldn’t quite understand.

"...You are different," Fang Lin blurted out before she could stop herself, "you have changed!" And she didn’t know if it was good for her.

"Lin Lin, how can I not change when I have a husband and child? It’s normal..." Yueyao murmured, her voice soft yet resolute, "From now on, you don’t need to touch kitchen knives or heavy pots. You don’t need to stand where the smoke clings to your hair and clothes. I will do it all."

"All right...." She nodded

"Do you think my husband would like this kind of juice?" Yueyao’s lips curved faintly, though her eyes remained unreadable.

She lifted the jug, tilting it just enough for the sunlight to glimmer across the golden surface.

"He will drink it," she said softly, with a certainty that left Fang Lin momentarily speechless. "And he will like it, because it comes from my hands."

Fang Lin bit her lip, sensing something deeper beneath those words. It wasn’t about the juice at all. It was about claiming space, about leaving no doubt as to who stood closest to him.

"...But what if he doesn’t?" Fang Lin asked carefully, half-teasing, half-curious. All the time she has grown up under her Uncle’s care, she knew he didn’t like oranges.

Yueyao finally turned her gaze back to her, a glint of steel beneath the gentleness. "Then he will learn to."

The room went quiet again, the faint drip of juice from the juicer echoing too loudly in Fang Lin’s ears. She shifted on the seat, uneasy, but also strangely drawn in by this fierceness she had never seen in Yueyao before. She inwardly preferred the present Yueyao in front of her.

One of the younger servants couldn’t help but whisper, "Madam... orange juice? Lord Jin doesn’t like orange juice!"

The whisper cut through the stillness like a knife, and every servant in the room stiffened, eyes darting nervously toward Yueyao.

Fang Lin’s breath caught, she had just said the same thing, but softly, gently, half in jest. The maid, however, had spoken it bluntly, like an unguarded truth.

Yueyao’s hands faltered on the jug. Slowly, she set it down on the counter, the porcelain making the faintest click against the wood.

Her gaze swept toward the maid, calm yet so sharp that the girl flinched and dropped to her knees instantly.

"Who taught you to speak of my husband’s likes and dislikes in my presence?" Yueyao’s voice was soft, almost whisper-light, but it carried a weight that crushed the air in the room.

The maid trembled, bowing lower. "F-forgive me, Madam, I.... I didn’t mean...."

"Didn’t mean?" Yueyao took a single step forward, her silk hem brushing across the floor. "If he doesn’t like it, then he will drink it until he does. If he refuses, then I will make it sweeter. If he pushes it away, then I will make it stronger. Do you understand?"

The maid’s forehead touched the floor, her voice breaking. "Y-yes, Madam!"

Fang Lin, sitting on the counter, stared in stunned silence. This was not the Yueyao who once lowered her head to avoid confrontation, who let others dictate her place in the household.

This Yueyao’s presence filled every corner of the kitchen, silencing defiance before it could breathe.

"Rise," Yueyao finally said, her tone softening, though the edge beneath it remained. "And remember, what my husband eats or drinks passes through me first. No one else has the right to decide."

"Yes, Madam," the servants echoed in unison, their heads bowed low.

Yueyao turned back to the jug, her expression smoothing into something almost serene. She lifted it once more, tilting it just enough for the light to catch the golden liquid.

"Lin Lin," she said, her voice gentler now, "carry the tray of glasses for me. Let’s see how my husband receives it."

Fang Lin slid down from the counter, her legs a little unsteady. She picked up the tray, the porcelain cup trembling slightly in her grip.

As Yueyao walked beside her, the faint fragrance of citrus seemed to follow, sharp and bright, like a promise, or a warning.

The orange juice tray in Fang Lin’s hands trembled faintly as they left the kitchen. The hallway stretched quietly and polished, lined with lanterns that gave off a muted glow.

Yueyao walked ahead, her pace unhurried, as if she carried no weight of doubt in her steps.

At the end of the corridor, the sitting area opened into view. The air shifted there, softer, calmer, though edged with the silent presence of guards at the entrance and all around the mansion.