The morning mist still clung heavily to the manicured, sprawling gardens of the traditional Yang family estate. Built with classic architectural lines that exuded old-money authority, the mansion was usually a fortress of absolute discipline. On this particular morning, however, the heavy iron gates had opened early for a familiar visitor.
Inside the secondary tea pavilion, the atmosphere was thick with the scent of high-grade jasmine and calculated flattery.
"Grandmother Yang, Aunt Shuhua, you must taste this," Lin Xinya said, her voice a soft, melodic purr as she elegantly poured the steaming amber liquid into delicate celadon cups.
Her posture was the epitome of refined grace, completely contrasting the sharp, venomous ambition hiding behind her brilliant smile. "I had my family's private supplier source this directly from the high-altitude fields of Wuyi Mountain. I remembered it was your absolute favorite."
