There are people who, unable to find happiness themselves, can't bear to see others happy either.
As Serena Feng stepped into the Hundred‑Herb Garden, everyone's attention shifted from her to William Wang Jinling. The crowd clustered around William, but Miss Wen of the Wen family happened to glance up and saw Serena whispering with Caleb Wang. The smile on her face froze instantly.
According to the Poetry Salon’s routine, everyone should now head to Huimen Pavilion to enjoy wine and verse, selecting today’s champion along the way. But just as the group was about to enter, Miss Wen deliberately interjected, "Serena Feng was late today. By the rules of the Poetry Salon, she must be punished. Didn’t everyone just say she should be fined with wine and poetry?"
Her words made everyone stop again, and a few troublemakers gleefully chimed in, "Yes, yes, she should be punished! The Poetry Salon has been held so many times, and no one has ever been late. Make her write a poem on the spot as punishment!"
Seeing the crowd’s excitement, Miss Wen’s lips curled into a smile as she turned to William Wang Jinling: "Grand Heir, everyone says she should be punished. What do you think...?"
"She was late, so of course she should be punished. Otherwise, she’ll never learn," William replied with a gentle smile, his tone both intimate and indulgent—impossible for anyone to ignore. The instigators, sensing his favor, grew uneasy and quietly retreated.
None of them dared offend the Grand Heir.
Miss Wen bit her lip, swallowing her bitterness. "Since the Grand Heir has spoken, Miss Feng, you can’t refuse anymore."
Today, if Serena Feng doesn’t suffer some humiliation, they won’t be satisfied.
"Miss Feng..." someone called again, but still, no one replied.
"Where is she? Where's Serena Feng? Don't tell me she got scared and ran off."
He finished speaking and burst out laughing...
Everyone chimed in, as if watching Serena Feng get embarrassed was the highlight of the day.
Serena and Caleb had been lingering at the back of the crowd, completely oblivious to what was happening up front. They were busy discussing plans to rebuild the small wooden cabin.
Last time, Caleb had handled almost everything for the cabin himself. To avoid repeating mistakes, Serena asked him for advice in advance—until people around them noticed and pushed the two forward.
"Over here, over here—Serena Feng is right here!"
The crowd sensibly parted to make way for Serena.
Serena raised an eyebrow and glanced at Caleb: Someone’s trying to cause me trouble—don’t blame me if things get ugly.
Caleb shot her a look: "Serena Feng, you really are a magnet for trouble. If you wreck my brother’s Poetry Salon today, I’ll go wreck your cabin."
Serena just smiled wordlessly and walked to the center. As she moved, her skirt swirled around her, and the strands of hair falling over her chest swung with each step, making some young lords want to reach out and catch that flying hair.
Black hair and a red dress—Serena Feng radiated an effortless, wild charm that left people stunned.
A few young lords stared at her, completely dazed, unable to snap out of it for a long moment.
Their friends, seeing this, quickly pulled them back and whispered a warning: "Are you crazy? Did you forget what happened at the city gate? Do you want to be the next Young Master Gareth Yan?"
Young Master Gareth Yan—the former Capital Prefect’s son—had tried to harass Serena Feng, only to be kicked by her and turned into a eunuch.
"Serena Feng, you were late today." Miss Wen stood on the steps, looking down at Serena as if she were an emperor above the crowd.
"And then?" Serena replied indifferently, her relaxed smile making Miss Wen uncomfortable.
Standing higher doesn't mean you have real presence.
Take Ninth Royal Uncle, for example.
Even if you stood on the roof, facing Ninth Royal Uncle, you’d still feel as insignificant as dust beneath his feet.
"Then, of course you must be punished." Miss Wen stammered, suddenly feeling like Serena was leading her by the nose.
"Punishment? What kind of punishment?" Serena replied briskly.
She just wanted to get this nuisance over with quickly and find a place to chat with Madam Hayes. After all, she’d been specially invited today—there must be a reason.
Of course, the main reason was that William Wang Jinling was the star of today’s Poetry Salon. Serena had no intention of stealing his spotlight.
"A poem, a verse, and a cup of wine! What’s a poem without wine?" The young lords clamored, clapping and making a ruckus.
Poetry Salon, Poetry Salon...
Truly—no poem, no joy.
Looking at these pampered sons of noble families, Serena suddenly thought of patients with head injuries who nearly died because they couldn’t afford treatment.
She remembered corrupt officials in the modern world, spending thousands on a single meal, while children in remote mountain villages shivered through winter in thin clothes.
Serena never considered herself particularly kind, but at this moment her eyes stung. She looked up at the bright blue sky and reminded herself not to dwell on things that had nothing to do with her...
But to the crowd, her pause and upward gaze looked like she couldn’t write a poem and was trying to avoid it.
Of course Miss Wen wouldn’t let Serena off the hook. She said smugly, "What’s wrong, Miss Feng—can’t write a poem? It figures. The entry poem for Hundred‑Herb Garden can be prepared ahead of time or handed off to someone else, but now you’re out of luck."
It was an unspoken rule among the noble families that the entry poem could be written in advance or even by someone else—everyone knew this, but no one ever said it out loud.
Everyone glanced at Miss Wen and instantly fell silent, afraid to get dragged into the issue.
William Wang Jinling just smiled and shook his head, saying nothing.
Caleb Wang quietly asked if he was going to step in and help.
William Wang Jinling was fully confident: "Serena Feng doesn’t need help. My job is to spread her reputation after today—to add flowers to brocade for her name."
Serena truly didn’t want to deal with these pampered noble girls, but her work and social circle meant she was forced to interact with them.
It wasn’t about being mercenary; only these people could pay her hefty fees.
Physical height didn’t determine real presence, but standing above did make Miss Wen seem more forceful. Serena refused to let her have the advantage and climbed the steps, heading straight for her.
"What are you doing?" Miss Wen was startled by Serena’s assertive aura and hurried to steady herself.
"Composing a poem, of course. Didn’t you insist on punishing me?" Serena stopped in front of Miss Wen, paused, then continued up another step.
"Madam Hayes, Miss Wen insists on punishing me with a poem. I dare not refuse." If Serena didn’t write now, people would claim her earlier peony poem was ghostwritten.
She could ignore most slander, but...
That poem had been written by William Wang Jinling himself. If rumors spread, it would tarnish not just her name, but his as well...
Reputation meant little to Serena, but for William, it was the foundation of his standing among the great clans.
She couldn’t let William’s name be ruined...