Kill That Transmigrator Woman - Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Fuqu (Part 1)

The boy was thin-skinned. Ever since that day when she teased Ling Xun a little, he hadn’t come looking for Cui Wanwan for several days in a row.

In the past, this boy named Ling Xun would often visit the Cui residence and spend entire days with her. Unless something major came up, he never missed a single day.

“Miss, why hasn’t the Heir come looking for you these past few days?” Fuqu asked casually as she combed Cui Wanwan’s hair.

In the bronze mirror, the young girl’s face was delicate and beautiful, her brows and eyes sparkling with charm. Every expression she made radiated spirit and allure.

Cui Wanwan lazily lifted her long lashes. There was a faint smile on her lips, ambiguous and unreadable, as she deliberately said, “Oh? What’s this? Fuqu, are you missing him?”

Fuqu’s hand trembled slightly, and two strands of black hair were accidentally yanked out. A sudden pain tingled across her scalp, and Cui Wanwan furrowed her brows.

Fuqu’s eyes flickered with panic, her gaze evasive as she lowered her head, not daring to meet Cui Wanwan’s eyes.
“Miss is teasing me. This servant just thought the Heir has always been very close to you, and as long as he’s not busy, he visits every day. These days, he hasn’t come at all. I was just curious.”

“Oh?” Cui Wanwan raised an eyebrow, letting out a light laugh from her throat. Her slender jade-like fingers tapped absentmindedly on her teacup—lazy, indulgent, and stunning.

The emotions in her dark eyes were unfathomable, making it impossible to discern what she was thinking.

She spoke lightly, “So it was just curiosity…”

“Yes,” Fuqu bowed even lower, her voice growing softer.

She didn’t know why, but ever since Second Miss had woken after falling into the water, it was as if she had become a different person.

The old Second Miss had been lively, cheerful, always wearing a smile. She treated the servants kindly and, though a bit pampered, was not hard to serve. But now, the Second Miss seemed to have gained more gentleness—and something far more difficult to grasp. The longer one stayed near her, the more it felt like being touched by a soft blade—every stroke gentle, yet deadly.

“After all, the Heir is still the Heir. How could he always revolve around a single girl like me?” Cui Wanwan’s voice remained soft and sweet, her lips smiling, her eyes bright with playful beauty.

“Yes, this servant understands. What Miss says is true.” Fuqu looked up, and her gaze met that pair of beautiful eyes in the bronze mirror. They were gentle and lovely, yet for some reason, she suddenly shivered.

“But…” Cui Wanwan’s tone suddenly shifted, her warmth disappearing as if it had never been there.
“You do know… you’re just a servant, right?”

Her voice wasn’t too loud or too soft, as if she were merely asking a simple, ordinary question.

Thud—Fuqu dropped to her knees, tears flowing.
“Miss, please have mercy! This servant knows she was wrong! I didn’t pull out your hair on purpose—it got tangled in the comb by accident!”

“What are you so afraid of?” Cui Wanwan lowered her head slightly, and her tapping fingers came to a sudden halt. Then she raised her lips in a bright smile, warm as winter sunlight.

She slowly reached out her hand and gently caressed Fuqu’s face, inching upward bit by bit until her palm came to rest on the top of Fuqu’s head.

Suddenly, her fingers clenched tightly, grabbing a handful of the maid’s hair with force.

“Ah!” A sharp cry burst from Fuqu as the searing pain shot through her scalp. She instinctively struggled, slapping Cui Wanwan’s hand in desperation.

As the only girl of her generation in the Cui clan, Cui Wanwan had always been pampered like a precious gem since childhood.

Her skin was extraordinarily delicate, and with that slap from Fuqu, a large red patch immediately bloomed on the back of her hand.

But Cui Wanwan didn’t let go. This bit of pain was nothing compared to what she had suffered in her past life.

She continued smiling brightly, but her eyes brimmed with coldness and madness. The contrast was stark—like a ghostly demon wearing the mask of an angel.

“The louder you scream, the harder I’ll pull. Once you stop shouting, when it’s quiet, I’ll let go,” Cui Wanwan said softly.

Fuqu had grown up alongside the most beloved young lady of the Cui family. Though just a maid, her food, clothes, and daily life were no less luxurious than a well-off daughter’s.

As the personal maid of Second Miss Cui Wanwan, her days were more privileged and comfortable than any other servant in the household.

Cui Wanwan had never suffered a day in her life—and neither had Fuqu.

How could she possibly endure such pain? With her hair being yanked so viciously, it felt like her scalp might tear open. The agony was so intense she nearly fainted.

Fuqu didn’t dare make another sound. She bit down hard on her lower lip.

Sure enough, the moment Fuqu fell silent, Cui Wanwan immediately let go.

Fuqu collapsed onto the floor, drenched in sweat. Her hair was a tangled mess, like a bird’s nest perched on her head.

“Do you know why I punished you?” Cui Wanwan crouched beside her, propping her chin on one hand. Sunlight streamed through the window lattice, enveloping the twelve-year-old girl in a dazzling golden glow. Her smile was innocent and pure.

Wearing a face of utter goodness, no one would believe she was capable of cruelty, no matter what she did.

That was exactly how Wei Qingyu had been in her past life. To be fair, Cui Wanwan had indeed learned a lot from that woman from another world.

At least in some ways… she had learned well.

“I accidentally pulled out some of Miss’s hair,” Fuqu said, instinctively shrinking back. If she could, she would have run far, far away by now.

Second Miss was terrifying.

“No, that’s not it.” Cui Wanwan raised a finger and wagged it, lips curving into a faint smile. “I’ll give you one more chance, Fuqu, make sure to answer properly.”

Fuqu’s eyes darted around, her heartbeat quickening rapidly. Cold sweat broke out in her palms, clammy and chilling.

“This servant… does not know how I have offended you, Miss. I beg you to enlighten me.”
Could it be that matter was discovered by Second Miss? No… impossible. Second Miss is simple-minded and never pays attention to such things. There’s no way she could have found out…

Still trying to play dumb…

Cui Wanwan nodded and stood up, turning to face the bronze mirror, casually smoothing out the wrinkles in her dress.

“How did the hibiscus cakes made by the palace chef taste?” she asked abruptly, without warning. Fuqu’s face instantly turned pale as a sheet.

Cui Wanwan continued in a slow, unconcerned tone:
“How did the double-sided embroidered, wide-sleeved floating immortal gown fit you? Oh, I forgot—your waist is thicker than mine. That dress is tailored very precisely. It must have been quite uncomfortable to squeeze into, right?
And Grandmother’s jade bracelet—how much silver did you sell it for? That’s a valuable piece, Fuqu. I hope you didn’t let some pawnshop cheat you with a low price.”

“As for the key to my private storeroom—doesn’t seem necessary anymore, does it?” Cui Wanwan glanced at her meaningfully.
“After all, you’ve emptied the whole place.
The dowry of the Cui family’s Second Miss ended up becoming your dowry, Fuqu. Just imagine—what a grand tale that would be if told aloud.”

“Isn’t that right, Fuqu?” Cui Wanwan reached out and tapped Fuqu’s forehead. The pressure wasn’t heavy, but it chilled Fuqu to the bone—worse than death itself.

Over the years, her greed had gradually turned into shameless audacity, all because she relied on Cui Wanwan’s favoritism.

A rich young lady without any sense of wariness—being her most trusted maid, Fuqu naturally got whatever she wanted.

Now, Fuqu was utterly devastated, realizing she was out of options.
Death was the only road left.

She never imagined that the naïve, unsuspecting Second Miss could actually uncover all of this.

But how had she found out?

Thinking back on recent events, Fuqu’s pupils suddenly contracted. She scrambled to her feet, pointed a trembling finger at Cui Wanwan, and screamed in horror:

“You’re not Second Miss! She would never act like this, you’re a monster! Second Miss must’ve drowned that day when she fell into the water, and you, demon, took her place! You’re a curse!”

Screaming and flailing, Fuqu turned and fled the room in a panic.

Cui Wanwan didn’t stop her—she simply let her go mad.

That girl would run to her parents and brother now, trying to “expose” her for being some sort of monster.

“How naïve,” Cui Wanwan murmured as she sat back down. With steady fingers, she picked up the wooden comb and began tending to her hair—unhurried, calm, utterly composed.