"Your Highness," Shen Weiwan suddenly laughed out loud, and the banknotes were scattered all over the couch, "Do you think that someone will set up an 'Anti-Pit Cult' in the future to specifically oppose me?"

Xiao Yu bent down and kissed the top of her head, the sweet scent of croton flowers lingering on his nose. "Then I will be the leader. The first lesson will be 'How to detect the madam's ten traps,' like using croton powder to create a smiley face trap. It looks festive, but it's actually a laxative."

"Go!" Shen Weiwan punched him, but then heard a snap outside the window—perhaps some blind wild cat had stepped on a trap. She opened the curtains and saw Kengkeng cheering, holding a lantern. Wawa was squatting on the ground, tying a red string around his "trophy"—a mouse covered in croton powder. He said he was going to give it to Chuntao as a "pit-proof pet."

Half a month later, news came from Nanchu: someone ran into an old man in a tattered Taoist robe in a toilet. He was squatting at the door with his hands on his stomach, and took out a broken tile to everyone he met: "See? I was fooled by that female devil from Dasheng Dynasty with this thing! The laxative is more powerful than chili peppers. I couldn't stand up for three days!" When this news reached the prince's mansion, Chen Weiwan was teaching Wawa to write the word "pit". She dipped a wolf-hair brush into croton powder ink and wrote a crooked big word on the rice paper. The ink was mixed with shiny icing sugar.

"Madam, I'm afraid your reputation as a swindler will spread to Mobei." Xiao Yu looked at the words on the paper and shook his head helplessly. His cuffs were still stained with the croton powder that Kenkeng had sprinkled this morning.

Shen Weiwan put down her pen, the ink stains on her fingertips shimmering in the candlelight. "Of course—" She raised an eyebrow and looked out the window. Henkeng was chasing Wawa, the croton powder in his hand flying all over the sky, like a pink snowfall. "After all, I want to create a woman of great wealth. The next villain who comes to my door? Let him prepare ten kilograms of croton as a gift. If it's not enough to fill the gap in my teeth, I won't receive him!"

Sunlight streamed through the window lattice onto the table, the croton powder in the inkstone gleaming with a subtle light. Chen Weiwan stared at the word "坑" (pit) on the paper, suddenly realizing that its vertical and horizontal strokes concealed not only past life grudges but also the life of a life of unbridled pleasure, written with her own hands. As for the next scene of pitfalls and being pitted? She fingered the croton powder packet in her sleeve pocket, a hint of nagging frustration playing on her lips—I haven't had enough laxatives yet. Is the cat from the neighboring palace stealing snacks again? A good time to try the newly developed "croton mint flavor"—guaranteed to leave it with a lasting memory.