Morning sunlight streamed through the curtains, painting gold across Lan Hua's chamber. She dressed slowly, choosing a crimson robe embroidered with phoenix feathers. Today, she intended to turn poison into opportunity.
On her table sat the untouched cup of tea from last night, the steam long faded but its danger still sharp in her mind.
Lan Hua lifted it carefully, carrying it like a weapon, and made her way to Madam's office.
The older woman was reviewing accounts when Lan Hua entered. She looked up in surprise as Lan Hua set the delicate porcelain cup gently on the desk.
"What is this?" Madam asked, her painted brows arching.
"A gift from last night." Lan Hua smiled faintly, her voice steady. "Tea. Perhaps you might have one of your girls taste it. I thought it polite to share."
Madam's expression tightened. She snapped her fingers, and a servant hurried forward.
The girl bowed and touched her lips to the rim of the cup. For a moment, nothing happened. Then her face blanched. She gagged violently, spitting the liquid onto the floor.
"Poison!" she gasped.
The room froze. Madam's fan slipped from her fingers. "Who—who dares—"
Lan Hua's gaze never wavered. "It doesn't matter who carried the cup. What matters is that I suspected and refused to drink. Word of this, if spread, would ruin the reputation of our house. Patrons do not enjoy hearing of courtesans dying in their beds."
Her calm words cut through the panic like a blade.
Madam stared at her, breathing hard. For all her experience, the older woman was rattled. Poison inside her walls meant danger not only to Lan Hua but to the entire Red Lantern House. If nobles lost trust in the safety of their courtesans, business would collapse.
"And what do you suggest?" Madam asked at last, voice hoarse.
Lan Hua leaned forward, her eyes glinting with CEO steel. "Silence. No panic. No rumors. Let the danger become discipline. Tonight, allow me to perform with this very cup placed beside me. When the nobles ask, I'll tell them I abstain from wine to keep my wit sharp. Let them whisper about my restraint. About how temptation cannot sway me."
Madam blinked, stunned by the audacity. Then slowly, very slowly, her shock gave way to admiration. "You would turn poison into prestige."
Lan Hua's lips curved. "Of course. That's what we do, isn't it?"
---
That evening, the lantern hall glittered with light. Nobles poured in, eager to see the courtesan whose wit had already become legend.
When a minister raised his cup of wine toward her, Lan Hua lifted her own—but it was not wine. It was the porcelain cup of tea. The same one from the night before, its rim gleaming faintly under the lanterns.
She let the room notice before she spoke.
"I only drink tea," she said with a soft laugh. "Wine clouds the mind, and I prefer to remain clear. After all, the right match requires more than beauty—it requires wisdom."
Gasps. Then murmurs. Admiration. Even scholars nodded approvingly.
A merchant whispered, "So disciplined. No wonder her matches succeed."
Another added, "She thinks beyond pleasure. That is true cleverness."
The nobles' attention shifted, no longer to her beauty but to her mind. In a single stroke, Lan Hua had turned an assassination attempt into a brand—the courtesan too clever to drink wine.
And Yue Niang, seated at the far end of the hall, gripped her cup so tightly that the porcelain cracked.
---
Later that night, after the music ended and the patrons staggered out drunk and dazzled, a general himself lingered behind. His eyes were sharp, his expression weighed by secrets.
"Peony Matchmaker," he murmured, lowering his voice, "I heard you refuse wine. Admirable. It shows you value clarity. Perhaps… you value discretion too?"
Lan Hua tilted her head. "Discretion is the root of trust."
He studied her for a long moment, then leaned closer. "I have a son. Not born of my wife. The boy is clever, but his blood is… inconvenient. If he were matched well, placed with the right family, his future could be salvaged. Quietly."
Scandal. Risk. Opportunity.
Lan Hua smiled faintly, hiding the triumph flashing in her chest. "Then bring me the details, General. And leave the rest to me."
The man bowed and left, vanishing into the night.
Another thread woven into her growing web.
---
In her chamber, she set the poisoned cup back on her table, gleaming in the lantern light like a trophy.
Her reflection in the bronze mirror smirked at her.
"They tried to kill me," she whispered. "Instead, they crowned me clever."
She ran her fingers along the rim of the cup, her eyes cold.
"Poison me once, shame on you. Poison me twice?" She laughed under her breath. "I'll make sure you choke on your own schemes."
---
Across the house, Yue Niang smashed her own cup against the floor, fury shaking her frame. "How dare she twist my trap into glory? How dare she—"
Her maid trembled as she swept the shards. "Mistress, perhaps you should—"
"Enough!" Yue Niang hissed. "If poison won't work, then humiliation will. That woman will learn her place."
But Yue Niang didn't see what everyone else was already beginning to understand: Lan Hua had the mind of a general and the poise of an empress, wrapped in silk.
And every attempt to cut her down only made her shine brighter.
The game was no longer about beauty. It was about survival. Power. And soon, the entire capital would whisper the same truth:
The Peony Matchmaker could not be outwitted.
---