Chapter 8

Nan Ya was drenched from head to toe, still clutching the microphone in her hand.

She stared at the culprit holding the basin, her lips trembling with rage as she gritted her teeth and screamed, "Nan Song!"

"Are you awake now? If not, I don't mind giving you another basin of foot-washing water."

The music was still blaring recklessly, threatening to lift the roof. Nan Song hurled the basin in her hand toward the sound system. The speakers crashed to the ground with a loud *bang*, startling Nan Ya so much that she flinched.

The noisy music came to an abrupt halt.

"What's going on? What's happening?"

Nan Ningbai, also woken up by the commotion, rushed over from another guest room in his pajamas. Seeing Nan Ya soaked and shivering, he knew his daughter had been bullied. "Xiao Song, what's all this about?"

"Dad, she poured cold water on me! I'm freezing..."

Nan Ya was trembling from the cold, and a servant quickly draped a blanket over her. She wrapped herself in the blanket, tears welling up in her eyes as she looked at Nan Ningbai. "I couldn't sleep, so I just wanted to listen to some music. But my sister wouldn't even allow that."

Her pitiful expression made it seem as though Nan Song had done something terrible to her.

"Alright, alright," Nan Ningbai comforted his daughter in a fatherly tone. "Your sister just got back. Be the bigger person and don't take it to heart, okay?"

Nan Ya nodded obediently, but still wore a look of grievance.

Nan Song watched this display of father-daughter affection with indifference, her arms crossed as she coldly raised an eyebrow. "Are you done performing?"

Nan Ningbai and Nan Ya both looked up at her, their faces alternating between pale and flushed. Nan Song stood at the doorway, lazily eyeing Nan Ya. "If you're going to act like a lunatic in the middle of the night, I'll just assume you're sleepwalking. If there's a next time, I'll dunk you straight into a cold water pool to help you sober up."

"And," she added, sweeping a glance over the father and daughter, "since you're living in my house, you'll follow my rules. I'm a light sleeper, and I can't stand noise at night. If you can't handle it, get out."

With that, she turned and left, not bothering to acknowledge their dramatic expressions.

"Dad, look at her..."

Nan Ya pouted, pointing at Nan Song's retreating figure. She desperately wanted to grab her hair and start a fight, but Nan Ningbai held her back. "Enough, enough, my dear. Don't be angry..."

After shooing the servants out and closing the door, Nan Ya grumbled as she dried her hair with a towel, venting to Nan Ningbai. "Dad, are we just going to let Nan Song bully us like this?"

Nan Ningbai's face darkened, his expression equally unpleasant. He was still mourning the vase Nan Song had smashed earlier—a piece worth millions, and she had the nerve to call it fake?

"Dad, we worked so hard to get to where we are today. Are we really going to let her drag us back to the past?"

Nan Ya crouched in front of Nan Ningbai. "Do you remember how we used to bow and scrape in front of Uncle and Aunt? I even had to suck up to Nan Song. I never want to live like that again!"

Nan Ningbai narrowed his eyes, his chubby face twitching as he snorted. "You think I want to? But Nan Song's return is both sudden and strange. She's clearly here with a purpose."

"Uncle and Aunt are already dead. She has no backing anymore. What power does she have?"

Nan Ya continued to strategize with her father. "If you don't cut the weeds at the root, they'll grow back. Look at how she treats us. She must know something and is here for revenge. If we don't deal with her, it'll be us who end up dead! We need to strike first while she's still vulnerable. Dad, you can't afford to be soft-hearted now!"

In the dim light of the room, her face was filled with venomous malice.

Nan Ningbai rubbed the jade ring on his thumb, his murky eyes revealing a hint of murderous intent. "Don't worry. An arm can't twist a leg. If she's looking for death, don't blame me for disregarding family ties."

---

Nan Song lay quietly in bed, the conversation between the father and daughter clearly transmitted to her through the listening device she had installed in the room.

A faint, mocking smile played on her lips. Sometimes, she couldn't help but wonder: Why were these two so ordinary, yet so confident?

---

The next day, Nan Ya slept until the sun was high in the sky.

Rolling over in bed, she pressed the intercom and lazily said, "Xiao Jun, go draw me a bath in my room and pick some flowers from the garden. I want a flower petal bath."

A voice that was both unfamiliar and somewhat familiar came through the intercom. "Miss Nan, I regret to inform you that Xiao Jun has been dismissed. As for the flower petal bath, Miss Nan Song has instructed that no one is allowed to damage the roses in the garden. Therefore, your unreasonable request cannot be fulfilled."

Nan Ya sat up abruptly, frowning. "Who is this?"

"I am Manager Zhao, whom you once drove away but who has now returned to Rose Manor. It's a pleasure to serve you again."

Nan Ya's mood instantly soured. She hung up the intercom, tied her robe, and rushed out of her room.

Downstairs, she noticed many servants cleaning, but none of them were her people. They were all former servants of the Nan family estate!

Where were her people? Where had they gone?!

To her utmost fury, she discovered that the peonies she had planted in the garden had all been uprooted and replaced with vibrant, domineering red roses, blooming in clusters with an almost arrogant beauty.

Clenching her fists, Nan Ya gritted her teeth and spat out two words through her lips: "Nan. Song."