A bright morning, radiant sunshine, a luxurious banquet hall, a lavish breakfast—
And—
“…Achoo!”
—The sound of a heavy sneeze echoing through the banquet hall from a certain black-haired young lady.
Su Wanli sat alone at the end of the long dining table, grabbing another napkin from beside her to wipe her now-reddened nose, then tossing it onto the growing mountain of used tissues next to her.
Meng Wange, much like during yesterday’s welcome banquet, had chosen to sit beside Su Wanli despite the table stretching more than ten meters.
Zhang Ma had originally set her place near the center of the table, but Meng Wange had gone out of her way to move her utensils and plate all the way over to sit next to Su Wanli.
‘Who knew what she was thinking?’
Su Wanli rubbed her chin while dabbing at the new trickle of mucus escaping her nose.
‘Could it be that Meng Wange is a deeply nostalgic person? So much so that she refuses to give up the seat she used just once yesterday?’
If she’s that sentimental, then that hairpin Su Wanli snatched from her yesterday must mean a lot.
‘I really should find a way to return it to her soon… but it has to be in character.’
Su Wanli glanced at Meng Wange’s refined, always-faintly-smiling face and suddenly felt a bit troubled.
Noticing Su Wanli looking her way, Meng Wange turned her gaze toward the small white mountain of tissues.
“Miss Su, are you… feeling alright?”
She spoke gently while cutting into the egg and meat on her plate with a knife and fork.
‘Is that even a question? Can’t she tell I’ve got a serious cold just by looking?’
Though that was what she was thinking, Su Wanli only shook her head and rolled her eyes before muttering in a stuffy voice: “I’m perfectly fine. It’s just a bit of an allergy to the cold air today… Achoo!”
She grumbled while rubbing her nose, then added a line to maintain her persona—the classic villainess remark.
“—No need for you to worry about my health. You’d better worry about yourself. You’ve got a rough time ahead.”
There was no helping it.
If she admitted she had a bad cold, she’d have no reason to challenge Meng Wange to anything.
And she definitely wouldn’t be able to win three convincing victories.
If a sick person competes with a healthy one and wins, it’ll just look like the other person went easy on her—no one would be truly impressed.
‘Wait… wasn’t my mission to challenge Meng Wange?’
‘Then… could I use her mother’s hairpin as the wager? If she wins, I’ll give it back to her…’
The more she thought about it, the more it made sense—aside from the rather questionable ethics of using someone’s stolen possession as a bet.
But otherwise, it was a flawless plan.
“…”
Su Wanli stole another glance at Meng Wange while trying to figure out how to bring up the challenge.
She had to pick something she could actually win at.
‘What was Meng Wange bad at?’
Even after hearing Su Wanli’s sharp words, Meng Wange only smiled as she gracefully lifted her cup and took a small sip of sweet soy milk, like she was sampling fine red wine.
When it came to composure, Su Wanli knew she was no match.
But somehow, seeing that calm and collected expression made Su Wanli just a little more irritated.
‘Seriously… We literally just slept together, and I’ve been agonizing over it ever since I got back to my room. But her? She’s already flipped the switch and acting like nothing happened.’
Just as Su Wanli had that thought, Meng Wange’s hand suddenly trembled for some reason, and the cup of soy milk she was holding slipped from her hand.
Fortunately, the cup wasn’t far from the table, and Meng Wange’s reflexes were quick enough.
Only a few drops of white liquid splashed out, and after wobbling slightly, the cup settled upright on the table.
Meng Wange lightly rubbed her hands together, then picked up a piece of meat and popped it into her mouth, as if to calm herself down.
“…?”
Pulling her attention away from Meng Wange, Su Wanli picked up her own knife and fork, imitating her movements as she pierced the meat on her plate.
‘Sigh… I already decided to let the past be the past. So why am I still hung up on it?’
‘After all, Meng Wange probably just thought I randomly showed up to wake her up after a shower in the middle of the day. It’s not unreasonable that she didn’t react in any special way…’
‘But if she does remember what happened last night and can still stay this calm—then she’s really cold-hearted!’
“…Cough, cough! Cough cough cough cough…”
Out of nowhere, Meng Wange suddenly choked on a sip of water.
She patted her chest, coughing lightly, and her eyes shifted awkwardly to the side.
Just then, Zhang Ma walked by the dining table from the kitchen and immediately asked with concern—
“Wange—ah, I mean Miss Meng, are you alright?”
“I’m fine, Zhang Ma. I just choked a little.”
Meng Wange waved a hand at her, cleared her throat, and gave Zhang Ma a sweet smile.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve had breakfast this delicious. Your cooking is amazing.”
“Oh, it’s nothing! Just made from simple ingredients. If you’ve got time, I’ll teach you how to make it!”
With just two lines, Meng Wange had Zhang Ma grinning from ear to ear, even setting up future cooking lessons with her.
“Mm, then I’ll count on you.”
“Not a problem at all…”
“…Ahem!”
***
Watching the heartwarming scene unfold in front of her, Su Wanli quietly gripped the knife and fork in her hands and tapped them on her plate.
‘Seriously? I’ve been sitting here with a whole pile of used tissues, and Zhang Ma didn’t even ask if I was okay. But Meng Wange chokes twice and she gets all the attention?’
The old Su Wanli would’ve definitely started scheming how to get Zhang Ma caught in the crossfire too.
But the current Su Wanli wouldn’t.
Now she was just a soft and fluffy little bun.
Being ignored didn’t make her angry—it just made her turn into a sour-sweet over-fermented bun instead.
Still, those two little coughs worked like magic.
Zhang Ma instinctively reined in her smile and began backing toward the kitchen.
But then, for some reason, Meng Wange turned around to meet Su Wanli’s openly hostile gaze—and smiled.
“Miss Su, would you like to join us for the cooking lesson too?”
That one question startled Zhang Ma so much that she started waving her hands frantically from behind, whispering—
“Shh, shh—Miss Meng, Miss Su would never…”
‘Huh. A cooking lesson with Zhang Ma?’
‘Cooking, huh… Sounds interesting. Might as well use this as the opening move for today’s provocation.’
Su Wanli paused for a moment, then curled her lips into a sly smile and nodded at Meng Wange.
“Sure, since I’m already here. How about we set it for lunchtime? Zhang Ma, you free then?”
‘—Huh? She’s really going?’
Zhang Ma scratched her head in confusion, glancing to her left at Su Wanli’s obviously antagonistic expression, then to her right at Meng Wange’s calm and composed face.
‘…Huh. The way these two talk—and the way they interact… It doesn’t quite match what she thought was going on.’