"Eldest Miss, this servant has brought the books."
"Alright. Put them on the table."
"Yes."
Xixia placed the books on the table and neatly arranged them into separate stacks, making it easier for her mistress to find whichever one she wished to read. Jiang Rui Yue watched quietly from the side, a book resting in her hand.
"Miss, is there anything else you would like this servant to do?" Xixia asked after finishing.
Hearing this, Jiang Rui Yue immediately nodded and tossed the book in her hand toward her. "Read this to me."
"Yes."
Xixia nodded obediently, sat on a small stool beside the bed, and began reading in a gentle, soothing voice.
Jiang Rui Yue leaned lazily against the bedpost, listening as her thoughts gradually drifted.
The place she had transmigrated to this time was an ancient cultivation world known as the Azure Sky Continent. The body she had "inherited" belonged to the eldest daughter of a renowned military prince from one of the powerful nations.
For reasons unknown, the memories she had obtained from the original host were fragmented and incomplete. Every time she tried to recall more, a sharp ache would throb in her head. Thus, she had not entirely lied about losing her memory. Having such a chaotic, broken recollection was not much better than total amnesia.
Moreover, it provided her with the perfect excuse—there was no need for further acting.
"…In the west lies the Sea of Hope, stretching endlessly to the horizon, and in the east stand the Immortality Mountains, reaching toward the heavens… These two places are considered the treasure troves of the Lower Region Continent…"
Though Jiang Rui Yue felt drowsy listening to the book, her mind was still working diligently, memorizing the important places and details.
The Azure Sky Continent was vast and geographically diverse, filled with strange mountains, dense forests, and mysterious regions.
"…There are Twelve Major Domains in the Upper Region Continent, while Four Great Kingdoms rule over the Lower Region Continent…"
It was said that in ancient times, the entire continent had once been a single landmass. However, around a hundred thousand years ago or so, a sudden and violent earthquake tore a massive fissure straight through its center, dividing it into two subcontinents—the Upper Region and the Lower Region.
The place she had transmigrated into was the capital city of the Burning Phoenix Nation, one of the Four Great Kingdoms of the Lower Region.
Jiang Rui Yue sat in a daze. Xixia's voice was so soothing that she nearly drifted off to sleep.
Rubbing her eyes, she let out a tired sigh.
The job of a transmigrator was truly not easy.
Meanwhile, in the estate's kitchen—
"Head Chef, are the dishes ready? The servants from Qing Luan Courtyard are here to collect dinner!" a young maid called as she rushed inside.
"They're already here?!" The Head Chef, drenched in sweat from the heat of the stove, turned around in alarm. "Why so early?"
"They said the Eldest Miss didn't eat much at lunch, and the snacks delivered in the afternoon were left untouched. Now she's hungry."
The Head Chef nearly burst into tears.
As the head chef of the Duke's estate, he had always enjoyed a comfortable and dignified life. There were not many masters in the residence, and most of them were easy to serve. Aside from the Second Young Miss, who was still too young to cultivate, the rest of the family were mystic cultivators. Their herbal cuisine was simple—carefully prepared to preserve the essence of the herbs. Apart from the slightly troublesome handling of medicinal ingredients, everything else had been effortless.
It was a life countless cooks would envy.
Over time, however, he had grown complacent. He often lamented—both secretly and openly—that his exceptional culinary talents were wasted in this duke's estate. He had become arrogant, self-satisfied, and heedless of the old saying passed down by his ancestors: one must never grow too complacent, or Heaven will strike.
And now—his divine punishment had arrived.
Perhaps he had complained one time too many. Perhaps the immortals above had heard him by sheer coincidence and decided to grant his wish.
His long-cherished dream of showcasing his culinary brilliance had finally come true.
But now, he was neither happy nor proud—only exhausted and miserable.
"The sky never reveals how high it truly is, nor the earth how deep," he finally understood the meaning of that saying.
With such a "capable" master as their Eldest Miss, no matter how extraordinary his cooking skills were, they would always fall short.
And it had all begun one unfortunate morning—
"Head Chef! Hurry up! Why are you still daydreaming? They're waiting outside!" the anxious maid interrupted his thoughts.
His tragic monologue ended abruptly. Though displeased, he dared not voice his complaints. Instead, he silently cursed the eighteen generations of those wretched assassins who had caused this calamity and hurried to finish the dishes.
It took another quarter of an hour before the final dish left the stove.
"Be careful! Don't spill it!" the Head Chef barked anxiously as the dishes were loaded onto a small cart.
"Alright, let's go."
Wiping sweat from his brow, he gestured for them to move. He followed behind, trying to steady his pounding heart.
As they approached Qing Luan Courtyard, scenes from the past few days replayed in his mind. His legs faltered, refusing to move forward.
"Head Chef, what's wrong?" asked the maid accompanying them.
"N-nothing. I just stumbled," he replied with a dry laugh.
Could he admit that his legs were trembling because he feared facing the little demoness?
"Then hurry! Don't delay! If the dishes don't satisfy our Eldest Miss, you'll have to return and cook again."
The Head Chef nearly collapsed on the spot.
As expected of subordinates raised by that little demoness—they were no kind souls either!
Soon, the team arrived at the grand gates of Qing Luan Courtyard. Their pace slowed instinctively.
Here it comes…
All eyes shifted toward the Head Chef.
The moment the gates opened, the gazes of two old rivals collided in midair. Invisible sparks seemed to crackle between them. Both straightened their backs instantly, masking their previous dejection and glaring at one another with disdain.
"Hmph." The Head Chef snorted and turned away, as though too disgusted to look.
The Old Carpenter mirrored him with equal contempt.
The suppressed fury within the Head Chef flared up instantly. He longed to fetch his hundred-jin wok and smash the wretch to death—but duty came first. Grinding his teeth, he vowed to settle the score later.
Meanwhile, the Old Carpenter felt secretly smug upon seeing the chef's suppressed rage. He let out a devilish chuckle—until he remembered his own miserable situation. His smile faded.
Catching the change in expression, the Head Chef sneered, his mood lifting slightly.
With company, even the road to hell seemed less dreadful.
Hehe… at least he wasn't suffering alone.
Holding his head high, he strode into the courtyard, followed by the others.
Behind him, the Old Carpenter sighed.
Indeed, who could laugh at whom?
They were all pitiful souls, equally tormented by the little demoness.