The morning sunlight poured through the gaps in the curtains, illuminating the luxurious room in warm hues.
Yang Qinru was still wrapped up in her comforter, dreaming of something vaguely amusing—probably involving herself toppling Yang Ran in some clever scheme—when the persistent knocking began.
At first, she ignored it.
Who dared disturb her on a Saturday morning?
Surely, the world could survive without her for a few more hours.
But the knocking continued.
And continued.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, but was actually just ten minutes, Yang Qinru groggily sat up, her hair resembling a bird's nest.
She stumbled toward the door, ready to give whoever was on the other side a piece of her mind.
She opened the door to find Butler Fu, standing there impeccably dressed in his standing there was Butler Fu, his sharp suit impeccable and his expression as calm and collected as ever. Except for the slight arch of his brow, which screamed judgment.
Yang Qinru froze, her brain still foggy with sleep.
Oh, shit.
She had forgotten about him. This wasn't just any butler—this was Fu Weirong, the bane of her previous life.
"Oh, great," Yang Qinru muttered under her breath.
Butler Fu raised an eyebrow, his expression as pristine as his outfit. "Good morning, Young Miss. Or should I say, late morning? It's already 9 a.m."
Yang Qinru groaned and leaned against the doorframe. "What do you want, Butler Fu?"
"Your cousins have already begun choosing their gowns and suits for tomorrow's gala," he said sharply, his tone dripping with disapproval. "Meanwhile, you are still in bed, indulging in your sloth-like tendencies."
Yang Qinru rolled her eyes. "Sloth-like tendencies? Really? You're going with that?"
Butler Fu ignored her sarcasm, stepping into her room as though he owned it. "Your father would be most disappointed to hear of your behavior. Do you know how important tomorrow's event is for your standing as a candidate for the Yang heir?"
Yang Qinru froze for a moment, her grip on the door tightening. Ah, here it is. The same tactic he used in her past life—dragging her father into every conversation to guilt-trip her into submission.
But this time, she wasn't having it.
Yang Qinru massaged her temples, willing herself not to explode. It's too early for this nonsense.
"Alright, alright," she said, waving her hand dismissively. "Enough with the lecture. I'll get ready—"
"Not so fast," Butler Fu interrupted, his arms crossed. "You need to learn some discipline. Waking up this late is unacceptable for someone of your status."
Yang Qinru's temple throbbed. She pinched the bridge of her nose, muttering, "Why did I even open the door…"
"Do you think your father would approve of such tardiness?" he interrupted, his tone dripping with disapproval. "Young Miss, this is unacceptable. As the daughter of the Yang family, you should—"
"Enough!" she snapped, her patience snapping like a twig. She shot him a glare that could rival a thunderstorm. "Butler Fu, do you ever stop talking? Or are you trying to break a world record for the longest nagging session?"
He paused, clearly not used to being interrupted. Then his eyes narrowed. "Young Miss, I will have to inform your father about this behavior—"
Yang Qinru smiled, but it wasn't the warm, charming smile she was known for. No, this was a smile that promised trouble. "Go ahead," she said sweetly. "But if you do, should I remind him about his long-lost brother?"
Silence.
Butler Fu froze. For a split second, his polished exterior cracked, his eyes betraying his shock. But he quickly composed himself, his professionalism snapping back into place like a rubber band.
"Young Miss," he said evenly, "You must be joking. Do you really think the Second Master would believe such an outlandish claim?"
Yang Qinru's smile widened. Gotcha.
"Outlandish?" she mused, tilting her head. "So you're saying your mother wasn't a maid in the Yang estate thirty years ago? That you weren't born in Jiang City Hospital? Or that my grandfather didn't suddenly 'hire' you out of nowhere?" She listed each fact with precision, watching his expression darken with each word.
Butler Fu clenched his jaw. He was clearly weighing his options, but the evidence she presented was too damning.
Yang Qinru tilted her head innocently. "I mean, I could be mistaken. But if I'm not, wouldn't it be awkward if this information got out?"
"Young Miss," he finally said, his tone grim, "What do you want?"
Her smile turned smug. "Simple. Don't question my actions again."
"Pardon?" He blinked, genuinely taken aback by her straightforward demand.
"I said, don't question me," she repeated, crossing her arms. "Just do your job, and I'll do mine. Deal?"
Butler Fu hesitated, clearly displeased but unable to argue. "...Fine," he muttered.
Yang Qinru leaned against the doorframe, clearly enjoying his discomfort. "Oh, by the way," she added nonchalantly, "My neck's hurting."
"Excuse me?" Butler Fu frowned.
"My neck," she said, stretching dramatically. "It's sore from looking up at you all the time. You're way too tall. It's honestly exhausting."
Yang Qinru was exaggerating. Sure, she was 165cm while Fu Weirong was 193cm, but still, she was being too dramatic.
He stared at her, his expression incredulous.
"Young Miss, are you suggesting—"
"Exactly," she cut in with a smirk.
Butler Fu clenched his fists, his pride screaming at him not to comply. But he also couldn't risk her following through on her earlier threat.
With a sharp inhale, he dropped to one knee. "Like this?" he asked, his tone dripping with reluctant obedience.
Yang Qinru leaned down slightly, inspecting him with mock curiosity. "Hmm. That's better, but maybe both knees would be more comfortable for my neck?"
"Is this to your satisfaction, Young Miss?" he said through gritted teeth, "Is this better? Or should I lie down on the floor as well?"
She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Perfect. My neck already feels better."
Butler Fu looked like he was about to explode. "Anything else, Young Miss?"
"Nope, that'll be all for now," Yang Qinru said cheerfully, walking past him. "Oh, and don't forget to tell my father how responsible I've been lately. Thanks, Uncle Fu!"
As she left the room, Butler Fu remained kneeling, his expression a mix of anger and disbelief.
"Unbelievable," he muttered.