Apart from Sheng Mingzhu, Sheng Minmin would not forget the other enemies at the dining table.
For example, her “beloved father”—cold-hearted and indifferent…
In her past life, after she returned to the family estate, he never once smiled at her.
He stood by as everyone humiliated her at will, allowing Sheng Mingzhu to ruin her reputation.
Back then, when Sheng Mingzhu framed her for having an affair with the steward of the Qi Prince’s residence, some townsfolk had found it suspicious.
Yet her “dear father” refused to even hear her explanation. Instead, he had her bound and forced into a bridal sedan, marrying her off to the Qi steward.
From then on, she went from being the daughter of an official to the wife of a servant—a slave under Sheng Mingzhu’s heel, forced to grovel for the rest of her life…
Then, there were her three “dear” elder brothers.
Two of them had despised her from the start. A few fake tears and vague words from Sheng Mingzhu were enough to make them scold and ostracize her.
As misunderstandings piled up, verbal abuse turned to violence—slaps, kicks, beatings with rods and whips, kneeling in the ancestral hall in the dead of winter without food or water…
In her past life, her body had been covered in scars from the lashings, and her knees ached whenever the weather turned damp and cold…
All thanks to her two “wonderful” brothers.
Once, one of them even suggested marrying her off to a sadistic sixty-year-old man as a concubine…
Truly worse than beasts!
How should she repay them in this life?
Perhaps she should ruin their reputations, drag them from their pedestals, break their legs, and toss them into a male brothel?
Since they loved pimping others out so much, she’d return the favor—tenfold.
As for the last of her “beloved” brothers… he was the one who had feigned warmth, only to push her into the abyss when she least expected it.
What kind of miserable end should she give him? Sheng Minmin needed to think carefully…
Since her rebirth into this body at dawn, she had spent the entire day imagining how to exact revenge on those who had wronged her in her past life.
So now, as she gazed at the people before her, she suddenly smiled—bright and wide.
A closer look would reveal the twisted hatred and madness lurking beneath that smile.
But no one paid attention to the mistress of the household, Huang Yaning—now Sheng Minmin.
The candlelight flickered, filling the room with the aroma of food.
Sheng Yong, the family patriarch, was in his thirties—tall, broad-shouldered, with striking features.
The three legitimate sons—Sheng Mingjian, Sheng Mingyi, and Sheng Mingbo—were ten, nine, and eight years old respectively, all bearing their father’s strong resemblance.
As a military man, Sheng Yong disliked formal dining etiquette, so the family served themselves—except for the youngest and most doted-on, Sheng Mingzhu.
“Little sister, here’s your favorite braised duck tongues,” said the eldest, Sheng Mingjian, using serving chopsticks to place a portion on her plate.
“Thank you, Eldest Brother!” Mingzhu tilted her head sweetly, the pink pearl-adorned ribbons on her twin buns swaying with the movement, making the men’s hearts melt.
“Little sister, try Fifth Brother’s favorite braised eel—” Sheng Mingbo eagerly offered.
But Sheng Mingyi intercepted it with a chuckle.
“Fifth Brother, Mingzhu doesn’t like eel. Here, have some shark fin soup instead…”
He ladled a bowl for her, and Mingzhu continued smiling sweetly as the family basked in warmth.
Sheng Minmin lowered her gaze.
Shark fin soup—such an extravagant dish.
And that unassuming plate of duck tongues? At least a hundred ducks had to be slaughtered for it…
Luxuries like these appeared on Sheng Mingzhu’s table daily.
In her past life, when she was twelve and brought back from Taohua Village, the matron escorting her had starved her the entire journey under the guise of “discipline.”
By the time she arrived, she was dizzy with hunger. At the sight of the lavish feast, she couldn’t help but devour the food ravenously.
That single meal earned her mother Huang Yaning’s open disdain.
Her father and brothers looked at her with disgust, while the maids and servants smirked behind their sleeves…
At that moment, she had felt stripped bare—humiliated, exposed, with no one to defend her.
That night, her starved stomach rebelled against the sudden richness, leaving her bedridden with violent illness for days.
The servants mocked her for having a “peasant’s gut,” unworthy of fine food.
Her “dear mother” Huang Yaning then decreed: “No need to waste good meals on her. Coarse fare will suffice.”
From then on, her daily meals were plain steamed buns and boiled greens.
Later, when the household saw how little the masters cared, her rations dwindled to the servants’ leftovers—watery porridge, coarse bread, and pickles.
Eventually, even that vanished.
Her food became rancid, her life worse than in Taohua Village.
At least there, she could forage for wild berries.
At least there, the villagers treated her as a person—not some cursed eyesore.
Her entire existence had been a nightmare from birth, each day crueler than the last…
But not this life.
Sheng Minmin suppressed the seething hatred.
It’s fine. I’ve crawled out of hell.
Now, wearing the identity of the Sheng family’s matriarch, she had endless opportunities for revenge.
When she looked up again, her eyes were calm, her smile faint but composed.
“Husband, I think we should limit delicacies like shark fin soup and duck tongues for Sixth Daughter from now on.”
She casually served Sheng Yong a fried quail as she spoke.
“Oh? Why?” he asked, puzzled.
The brothers frowned.
“Mother… did I do something wrong? I’ll correct it—please don’t punish me…”
Sheng Mingzhu’s voice trembled, tears glistening pitifully. The men’s hearts instantly ached.
Sheng Mingbo, the most hotheaded, burst out, “Mother, let her eat what she wants! Our family can afford it!”
Sheng Minmin sneered inwardly.
Before Huang Yaning married in, the Shengs were a minor military family of the eighth rank—a dime a dozen in the capital.
With no influential relatives or ancestral wealth, they had crammed into a modest two-courtyard home, barely scraping by.
