“Shut up!” Liu Qinxin snapped, cutting her daughter off before she could finish her sentence.

Liu Jia had been pampered and cherished by her parents her whole life and had never experienced such humiliation. At her mother’s sharp rebuke, she did indeed fall silent—but her sobs only grew louder.

The commotion soon drew the attention of everyone in the Ming household. Before long, every single member of the family, young and old, had gathered around, glaring at Ming Yue with hostile looks, as if they could pierce her with their eyes and leave her riddled with holes.

Of course, the nanny was nowhere to be seen—probably busy running around the world, searching for some hidden cave to hide in.

Ming Yue, unfazed, continued to lean casually against the doorframe, tapping her foot rhythmically on the floor. Her relaxed gaze swept over everyone, and she teased lazily, “Well, well, look who’s here! Everyone wants to keep me company and stand guard through the night, huh? What a lovely scene—and what an impressive display! Even ghosts would turn tail and run at the sight of this!”

As she mentioned “ghosts,” she deliberately cast a mysterious glance toward Ming Xia and Liu Lai, lingering a bit longer behind them.

Ming Xia instinctively shrank her neck, sending a chill down her spine.

Liu Lai’s face turned pale, and he felt thoroughly uncomfortable. He quickly tugged at Grandmother Ma Fengying’s sleeve, instinctively drawing closer to her—as if that would keep the ghost from catching him; after all, if it were going to grab someone, it might as well take the old lady first.

Ma Fengying’s cheeks flushed with indignation. She glared at Ming Yue once more, growing increasingly displeased with this ill-omened star. The more she looked at her, the more repulsed she became, and the thought resurfaced in her mind: Why wasn’t it her who died? Why do good people never live long, while villains live on for millennia?

A person like this—a karmic bane, a harbinger of misfortune, a scourge of the world—is nothing but a waste of food and a polluter of the air. They should just go out and get hit by a car, choke on their own meal, drown in their own water, or even be beaten to death for speaking… In short, they deserve to die!

They deserve to be cut into a thousand pieces!

Even after death, they shouldn’t be brought back to the Ming household—dirtying both the floor and the air. They should rot outside, in a place where no one can see them!

Just looking at them is enough to make your eyes feel dirty!

Ming Yue, however, didn’t care in the least. Her little face still bore the clear imprint of a slap, yet she wore an even more enigmatic expression. She raised her hand and waved toward the space behind Ming Xia and Liu Lai, as if greeting something invisible.

Ming Xia’s back was already drenched in cold sweat, and she too hurried closer to her mother.

“Shut up!” Ming Shuo, who had been downstairs in the living room when Ming Yue smashed a teacup on the floor, had somehow made his way upstairs. His dark, stern face tightened as he saw Ming Yue deliberately intimidating Ming Xia and Liu Lai. He shot another fierce glare at her, then strode into Liu Jia’s room, leaned over to whisper something in her ear.

On his thinning head…

It looked as though a sizable lump had suddenly grown there, impossible to ignore.

To be fair, it actually looked rather nice.

At least several times nicer than the slap mark on her face.

What was it again?

Oh…

The horns of a spring ox!

Ming Yue stared at the large lump hidden beneath the hair, lost in thought. It was as if she’d already forgotten about the slap she’d taken—and certainly didn’t care about the conspicuous slap mark on her fair little face.

She continued to lean nonchalantly against the door, watching the scene unfold.

No one knew exactly what Ming Shuo had been muttering in Liu Jia’s ear, but soon enough, Liu Jia’s crying stopped. Reluctantly, she hugged her belongings and followed her parents out of her new room.

As she passed Ming Yue, still seething with anger, Liu Jia couldn’t help but want to teach her a lesson. She raised her foot, intending to give Ming Yue a subtle kick to vent her frustration.

But Ming Yue, as if forewarning of the move, effortlessly dodged it.

Instead of hitting Ming Yue, Liu Jia’s foot landed squarely on the hard wooden door, producing a sharp, crisp thud that sent Liu Jia—Miss Liu—wailing in pain.

“Well, Miss Liu, what are you doing? You’re a big girl, looking quite presentable—how can you have such a small heart? The door and the wall don’t seem to mind you at all, yet you insist they’re unworthy of your nobility. Look at this—you’ve provoked retaliation, haven’t you?”

Ming Yue teased cheerfully.

Ming Shuo and Liu Qinxin, of course, had both witnessed the scene.

But while one maintained his usual kind and gentle demeanor, with only a hint of worry etched between his brows, the other clearly dared not provoke this seemingly mad, rebellious daughter, Ming Yue, any further.

So they each took one side and helped the wailing, in pain Liu Jia out of the room.

Of course, Ming Shuo couldn’t resist giving Ming Yue another glare.

If Ming Yue cared, she wouldn’t have set foot in this house again—not even half a step. She let out a cold laugh, yawned, and bent down to pick up her suitcase.

Coincidentally enough…

In the very moment she bent over so casually, the clear tooth mark on her neck happened to fall right into the line of sight of Liu Jia, who was brimming with pent-up resentment and had nowhere to vent it.

Liu Jia’s whimpering instantly ceased, her little face drained of color, her eyes wide with disbelief as she stared intently at the mark on Ming Yue’s neck.

That was…

a hickey!

She had only just parted ways with Brother Qiancheng—so who could have left such a mark? Was there any need to guess?

Thinking of this, Liu Jia’s pale face gradually twisted into a ferocious grimace. She pointed angrily at Ming Yue, “Ming—you! You! You shameless bitch—you actually…”

End of Chapter 9: The Game Officially Begins