She’s Being Naughty - Chapter 2

The next morning, Xu Zhaoyi was woken by the sun.

The curtains weren’t drawn tight, and a beam of golden light hit her right in the eyes. Irritated, she tossed and turned, pulling a pillow over her head in an attempt to squeeze out a few more minutes of sleep.

However, the faint sound of voices drifted up from downstairs.

There was a woman’s laughter, soft and light, like a feather brushing against an eardrum.

Jiang Yao.

Xu Zhaoyi snapped her eyes open, stared at the ceiling for a few seconds, and threw off the covers to sit up.

The image of that empty toothpaste tube from last night was still rattling around in her brain. She didn’t know what kind of situation she would face this morning, but whatever it was, she had to see it for herself.

She hopped out of bed, grabbed a bathrobe, and headed for the door, but paused with her hand on the knob.

Go down like this? In a bathrobe, with messy hair and a face full of sleep?

Too little presence.

She turned back to the bathroom, took a quick shower, blew her hair dry, changed her clothes and applied lipstick in front of the mirror. True Red. It made her look healthy, and more importantly, it made her look like someone you shouldn’t mess with.

The Breakfast Trap

By the time she made it downstairs, it was nearly nine o’clock.

In the dining room, her father, Xu Jiancheng, was already seated at the head of the table drinking coffee and reading the paper. Jiang Yao sat beside him with a breakfast of fried eggs, bacon, toast, and milk in front of her.

The scene was harmoniously eyesore inducing.

“Morning, Zhaozhao,” Jiang Yao greeted her first with a smile.

Xu Zhaoyi’s footsteps faltered.

Zhaozhao.

That was her nickname. Only her mother used to call her that when she was alive. Her father always used her full name, and friends called her either Zhaoyi or Yiyi.

Who did Jiang Yao think she was?

“Morning,” Xu Jiancheng looked up from his paper. Noticing her dressed up, he frowned. “Sit down and eat. Look at the time.”

Xu Zhaoyi pulled out a chair with enough force to make the legs screech against the floor. A servant quickly brought her breakfast, nearly identical to Jiang Yao’s, save for an extra egg.

She stared at the eggs for a moment, then suddenly stood up.

“What’s wrong?” Xu Jiancheng asked.

“I’ll fry them myself,” she dropped the words and headed straight for the kitchen.

In the open kitchen, she cracked two eggs into a pan. She wasn’t exactly a pro, but she could manage. As the oil sizzled, she heard her father’s voice from the dining room, a tone of gentleness she hadn’t heard in a long time.

“Did you sleep well? Is the new room comfortable?”

“Very well. The bed is cozy,” Jiang Yao replied warmly. “You didn’t have to get up so early, isn’t the company quiet today? You could have slept in.”

“I’m used to it. I wake up at this time regardless.”

Xu Zhaoyi’s grip on the spatula tightened.

When she flipped one of the eggs, she intentionally left it. As the edges turned black and the smoke began to rise, she turned the heat up even higher.

“Zhaozhao,” Jiang Yao called out softly. “It looks like it’s burning.”

Xu Zhaoyi ignored her until the egg was a charred, shriveled black mess. She plated it along with a second, perfectly cooked egg.

Returning to the table, she placed the burnt mess in front of Jiang Yao and the perfect one in front of herself.

“Try it,” Xu Zhaoyi sat down, chin tilted up. “I fried it especially for you.”

Xu Jiancheng put down his coffee, eyeing the charcoal on the plate. “Is that even edible?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Zhaoyi challenged. “This is how fried eggs are. I think it’s fine.”

The Performance

Jiang Yao picked up her knife and fork. Her movements were elegant, as if she were about to eat a Michelin-star delicacy rather than a burnt scrap. She cut a piece, put it in her mouth, chewed, and swallowed.

Her expression didn’t flicker. In fact, she even offered a faint smile as she took a second bite.

“Alright, stop eating it. It’s burnt, it’s bad for you,” Xu Jiancheng finally snapped.

“It’s okay,” Jiang Yao took a sip of milk. “This is the first time Zhaozhao has made breakfast for me. Of course I have to finish it.”

She actually finished the whole thing.

Xu Zhaoyi felt a sudden tightness in her chest. She expected anger or a complaint, but Jiang Yao just accepted the “kindness” just as she had the funeral wreath the night before.

“Zhaozhao,” Jiang Yao wiped her mouth and looked up. “Is there… some kind of misunderstanding between us?”

Her voice was soft and laced with just the right amount of hurt. The alarm bells in Zhaoyi’s head went off.

“What misunderstanding?” Zhaoyi retorted.

“Yesterday the wreath, today the burnt breakfast…” Jiang Yao sighed. “If I’ve done something wrong, you can tell me. We have to live under one roof, after all. This makes everyone uncomfortable.”

It was a masterclass in manipulation. No accusations, just a “troubled” plea for peace. To any outsider, Zhaoyi looked like the bratty stepdaughter bullying the saintly new wife.

“Xu Zhaoyi!” her father barked. “What is wrong with you? Wasn’t the scene at the wedding enough?”

“What did I do?” Zhaoyi’s voice turned cold. “I just fried an egg. She chose to eat it. How is that my fault?”

“You burnt it on purpose!” Xu Jiancheng slammed the table. “Do you think I’m blind?”

“So what if I did?” Zhaoyi stood up abruptly, her chair screeching. “She seemed to enjoy it!”

“You… how did you become like this? When your mother was alive.”

“Don’t mention my mother!” Zhaoyi shouted. “She doesn’t deserve to be compared to my mother!”

“ZHAOYI!”

The dining room fell into a deathly silence. Even the chandelier seemed to tremble.

The Hunter and the Prey

Jiang Yao stood up, but she didn’t join the argument. Instead, she moved between them, placing a hand on Xu Jiancheng’s arm. “Jiancheng, don’t be angry. She’s still young. Give it time.”

“Young? She’s twenty!” He pointed a trembling finger at Zhaoyi. “She’s spoiled! Her mother spoiled her, and now you’re trying to, and she’s just becoming lawless!”

“Fine, I’m lawless,” Zhaoyi said with eerie calm. “Clearly, no one in this house can handle me anyway.”

She turned and ran upstairs, slamming her door before the tears finally fell. They weren’t tears of sadness; they were tears of pure rage. She was mad at her father, mad at Jiang Yao’s hypocrisy, and mad at herself for falling for the bait.

She looked out her window down at the patio. Her father was rubbing his temples in exhaustion. Jiang Yao was by his side, whispering comforting words.

Then, Jiang Yao looked up.

Her eyes locked onto Zhaoyi’s window with pinpoint accuracy.

She smiled.

It wasn’t the gentle smile from before. It was the smile of a hunter watching a prey walk into a trap, cold, knowing and subtly mocking.

Jiang Yao’s “misunderstanding” comment wasn’t a question. It was a statement. She was telling Zhaoyi: I know what you’re doing, I won’t stop you, but you will never win.

The Warning

Around ten o’clock, after Xu Jiancheng left for work, there was a knock at Zhaoyi’s door. Jiang Yao walked in, now dressed in elegant white loungewear, carrying a tray with a sandwich, milk, and strawberries.

“Your dad is gone,” Jiang Yao said, sitting on the edge of the bed. “You don’t need to be so tense.”

“Who’s tense?” Zhaoyi snapped.

“You are.” Jiang Yao offered her a strawberry. Zhaoyi hesitated for ten seconds before snatching it and biting down hard.

“That’s better,” Jiang Yao smiled. “Girls should eat well. You shouldn’t starve yourself just to make a point.”

“I’m not a little girl.”

“In my eyes, you are,” Jiang Yao said softly. “Twenty is a great age. You can be willful and throw tantrums. But Zhaozhao, think about the consequences. For example, that burnt egg… I can eat it once or twice, but it makes your father heart-sore for me. If your behavior makes him feel more guilty toward me, more eager to make it up to me… who do you think wins in the end?”

Zhaoyi dropped the strawberry. Her pupils contracted.

“You…”

“Me what?” Jiang Yao tilted her head innocently. “I’m just talking sense.”

She reached out and tucked a stray hair behind Zhaoyi’s ear. The gesture was intimate and terrifying. “So Zhaozhao,” Jiang Yao whispered, her breath smelling of strawberries, “stop acting out, okay?”

She patted Zhaoyi’s head and left the room like a passing breeze.

Zhaoyi stared at the sandwich on the nightstand. She grabbed her pillow and slammed it into the bed, but the feathers offered no satisfying sound.

She realized then that every bit of Jiang Yao’s warmth was a weapon. The more Zhaoyi fought like a child, the more power she handed to the woman who had replaced her mother.