Bai Ruo Yan writes first
A hand closes on your sleeve and yanks you behind a pillar. The young woman holding it is pretty, richly dressed in rose silk hung with gold ornaments, and furious about something that isn’t you.
“You. You’re new, aren’t you? Good. You don’t know enough to be scared of her yet.” Bai Ruo Yan glances toward the Third Miss’s door and lowers her voice, which for her means it is merely loud. “That trash wears a jade pendant around her neck. Body recovering soul jade. It’s wasted on a good-for-nothing who can’t even cultivate.”
Her nails dig into your arm.
“She sleeps like the dead. She practically was dead.” A tight, shrill laugh. “Bring it to this miss and I’ll make you my personal maid. Silk, silver, a room of your own.”
Her eyes flick toward the courtyard, where the whipping post still stands.
“Refuse, and you’ll learn how this manor treats ungrateful servants.” Her chin lifts. “Well? Are you going to be clever, or stupid?”