Chapter 221 Full of Flaws

Qiao Wanyin took the bowl, her fingertips touching the warm edge of the porcelain bowl, her gaze sweeping over the dark liquid without making a sound.

She asked casually, "Mom, wouldn't you like a bite? This is so nourishing; you should take some to help your body recover."

Song Yazhi waved her hands repeatedly, her movements crisp and decisive, as if afraid of getting it on her. "This is for you to nourish your body. Why would I eat it? I'm not pregnant, why would I need this stuff?"

As she spoke, she shook her head with a smile, as if scolding her daughter-in-law for being insensible.

A hint of coldness flashed across Qiao Wanyin's eyes, but that glint of cold light disappeared in an instant, hidden deep within her eyes.

She became even more certain—there was definitely something wrong with this bowl of food.

Otherwise, given Song Yazhi's usual thrifty and unwilling-to-lose personality, how could she have wasted such "precious" supplements?

She smiled and nodded, naturally picked up the bowl, gently blew on the steam, then tilted her head back slightly and took a sip.

The moment the spoon touched my tongue, a strange sensation of bitterness mixed with a slight metallic taste spread across my tongue.

Suddenly, her expression changed, her brows furrowed, she covered her mouth, and let out a suppressed groan: "Ugh... I feel a little nauseous."

His voice was weak and trembling, as if he had really been shocked.

She rushed into the bathroom, her steps hurried but not flustered, slammed the door shut behind her, and quickly spat what was in her mouth into the toilet without leaving a trace.

Immediately afterwards, she took out a pre-prepared drug test strip from a hidden compartment in the drawer, carefully dipped it into the residue, and held her breath to wait for the result.

The test strip turned red instantly, a glaring red, as vivid as blood.

As expected, they added laxatives!

She sneered inwardly, her eyes blazing with anger.

Long-term use of this low-dose, slow-release laxative can lead to physical weakness, malnutrition, and even intestinal dysfunction.

Once her health collapses and she's hospitalized, the rest will fall into place.

Qiao Wanyin sneered, her voice low and hoarse but full of sarcasm, "What's this old woman up to? Does she really think I'm a fool?"

She muttered coldly to herself, "Trying to weaken me, then send me to the hospital for stabbing? Hmph, how naive."

She quickly flushed the residue from the toilet, rinsed her mouth repeatedly with water, then straightened her collar and expression, took a deep breath, and made herself look weak but not fragile.

After adjusting herself, she pushed open the bathroom door and walked slowly back to the living room, her face pale and sickly.

Are you feeling unwell?

Song Yazhi immediately came forward, her brows furrowed and her eyes filled with worry, as if the bowl of "tonic food" from earlier had nothing to do with her. "Does your stomach hurt? Should we go to the hospital?"

Qiao Wanyin shook her head weakly, her voice as soft as the wind, "It's nothing, I just have severe morning sickness, probably because my stomach hasn't been feeling well lately. Mom, can I drink this donkey-hide gelatin another day? I really can't eat it now."

A fleeting hint of disappointment crossed Song Yazhi's eyes, as if the disruption to her plans had left her somewhat frustrated.

But soon, she regained her kind smile and gently patted Qiao Wanyin's hand: "Of course, you can drink it whenever you want, just heat it up, I'm not in a hurry."

Before the words were finished, the courtyard gate creaked open, and the sound of the wooden door scraping against the ground was particularly clear, like the activation of some kind of signal.

Fang Xiaoju carried two boxes of delicate pastries and walked in with light steps.

She wore a light pink dress, her makeup was exquisite, her smile was bright, and she looked as warm as the spring sun.

"Aunt Song, Sister Wanyin, I've come to see you!"

She smiled brightly, her voice sweet and clear, as if the previous unpleasantness had never happened, as if there had never been any argument, jealousy, or hostility between them.

Qiao Wanyin's eyes narrowed, her gaze suddenly sharpening before quickly returning to its previous level.

She looked at Fang Xiaoju's seemingly harmless face and sneered inwardly: "This show is finally about to begin! This is the moment I've been waiting for."

"Xiaoju is here!"

Song Yazhi immediately greeted her with a beaming smile, quickly taking the box of pastries from her hand as she spoke, her tone almost exaggeratedly affectionate, "Oh, it's good that you're here, you didn't bring any gifts, you're so thoughtful!"

Qiao Wanyin stood to the side, her fingers gently rubbing the rim of the teacup again and again, the movement subtle yet revealing a barely perceptible tension.

She maintained a polite and gentle smile throughout, with the corners of her mouth slightly upturned, and her voice was soft: "Little Ju, please sit down, I'll make you a cup of tea."

As soon as she finished speaking, she turned and walked towards the kitchen.

But the moment he turned his back to the two of them, the smile on his face vanished like a receding tide, his expression turned cold, and his eyes darkened, revealing a hint of vigilance and defensiveness.

The kettle was placed on the stove, the fire was blazing, and the water inside was bubbling and steaming, forming a hazy white mist in the air.

Qiao Wanyin quietly raised her left hand, her fingertips gently twirling inside her sleeve, and then took out a slender, gleaming silver needle from her personal space.

The silver needle was pure white and gleamed with a cold light. It was a poison-detecting silver needle that she had obtained at great expense. It was extremely precious and could accurately identify a variety of common harmful substances and chronic toxins.

She lowered her head and, with swift and careful movements, lightly touched each tea leaf with a silver needle.

Each touch was extremely slight, leaving almost no trace, but her eyes were extremely focused, watching the silver needles' reaction intently.

After confirming that all the tea leaves were normal, she breathed a sigh of relief and carefully poured the tea leaves into the purple clay teapot, preparing to start brewing.

"Sister Wanyin, do you need me to lend a hand?"

Fang Xiaoju's voice suddenly came from behind, clear and gentle, with just the right amount of concern.

Qiao Wanyin's wrist trembled suddenly, and the teapot in her hand almost slipped from her grasp and tilted, nearly spilling the scalding hot water.

Her heart skipped a beat. She immediately took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing her inner turmoil, steadied her arm, slowly turned around, put on a smile again, and said in a light tone, "No need, no need. You are a guest, how can I let you do the work? Besides, I can do these small things myself."

However, Fang Xiaoju had already stepped into the kitchen, the hem of her skirt lightly brushing against the door frame.

Her eyes scanned the utensils on the stove and the cabinets next to it without making a sound. Her gaze lingered for a few seconds, as if she were confirming something or looking for a flaw.

"Auntie said you've been feeling nauseous lately and haven't been eating well, so I thought I'd bring some Suzhou-style pastries over."

She spoke gently and considerately, "They are all lightly flavored, not oily or greasy, perfect for when you don't have a good appetite."

As she spoke, she pointed to an elegant wooden box on the coffee table in the living room. "That's from an old shop in the east of the city, a decades-old establishment. There are always long queues; I waited for two whole hours to buy it. I heard you love this kind of food, so I went there specifically."

As Qiao Wanyin listened, her smile deepened, and her eyes seemed to show gratitude. "Thank you so much. You went to all this way and spent so much time. I really feel bad for you."