Quick Transmigration: The Charismatic Woman Uses Her Stunning Beauty to Complete Missions

Jiang Ping paused, glaring at Shen Chumo.

"What, can't I eat now?"

Shen Chumo pulled out a chair and sat down, arms crossed, looking at the table full of spicy dishes that Jiang Ping liked.

She tapped the table and said to Wang Ma beside her, "I don't like any of these dishes. Take them all away and make a lighter meal."

Wang Ma looked at Shen Chumo, frowned, and wondered if she had gone mad.

"Miss Shen, these are all dishes that the young lady loves to eat. If you don't like them, you can go to the kitchen and make them yourself." Wang Ma said with a disdainful expression.

Wang Ma had been by Jiang Ping's mother's side since she was a child. After Jiang Ping's mother passed away, she doted on Jiang Ping and her brother even more and often helped Jiang Ping make things difficult for Shen Chumo.

Shen Chumo's lips curled into a cold smile, her gaze sweeping over Wang Ma like a knife: "Wang Ma, this is the Jiang family, not a place for you to run wild. You're just a servant, paid by the Jiang family, yet you dare to boss your master around?"

"You!" Wang Ma was furious and cursed, "Shen Chumo, what kind of master are you? You don't deserve to eat at this table at all."

As she spoke, she was about to pull Shen Chumo down.

Jiang Ping watched the spectacle with amusement.

Wang Ma aggressively reached out to grab Shen Chumo, but Shen Chumo was prepared. She quickly turned to the side, grabbed Wang Ma's wrist, and twisted it forcefully.

Wang Ma screamed in pain and involuntarily lunged forward. Shen Chumo took the opportunity to press down on her arm and slam her face hard onto the dining table.

"Ah! It hurts! Shen Chumo, let me go!" Wang Ma struggled, crying out in pain.

Shen Chumo coldly looked at Wang Ma, whose face was contorted on the ground, without a trace of pity in her eyes: "Wang Ma, I think you've been in the Jiang family for too long and have forgotten your place. If I don't teach you a lesson today, you'll really not know your place."

At this moment, Shen Chumo turned to look at Jiang Ping. Jiang Ping, who had been looking forward to a good show, suddenly felt flustered and a little guilty when Shen Chumo stared at her.

Shen Chumo spoke with a half-smile: "Jiang Ping, is this how you discipline your servants? Your people dare to treat me like this, it seems you, as a young lady, have very little authority."

Jiang Ping bit her lip. She knew she couldn't let Shen Chumo direct all her anger at her now, or things would get worse.

She braced herself, pretended to be angry, and loudly scolded Wang Ma: "Wang Ma! How could you lay a hand on Chu Mo? Who gave you the guts! Apologize to Chu Mo right now!"

When Wang Ma heard Jiang Ping's reprimand, a hint of grievance and confusion flashed in her eyes, but she also knew that she was at a disadvantage and had no choice but to give in.

"Miss Shen, I was wrong. Please let me go. I will never do it again."

Shen Chumo didn't let go of her immediately, but instead pressed her arm down harder and said, "Wang Ma, I'll let you off the hook today. But remember this: if you dare to disrespect me again, it won't be so simple."

After saying that, Shen Chumo let go of her hand. Wang Ma scrambled to her feet, rubbing her sore wrist, and stood aside with her head down, not daring to look at Shen Chumo again.

"Aren't you going to cook again?"

Wang Ma glanced at Jiang Ping, who gave her a meaningful look. Wang Ma had no choice but to walk back to the kitchen.

She cursed inwardly, "Eat, eat, eat until you die. Who do you think you are? A little bastard born of a lowly woman, you dare to point fingers at me?"

Having worked for the Jiang family for decades, and with the help of Jiang Ping and her siblings, Wang Ma had long considered herself half a mistress. Now, however, Shen Chumo had humiliated her, and she couldn't swallow this insult.

Aunt Wang closed the kitchen door, then gave a sinister smile and pulled a paper packet from deep inside the cupboard: "Didn't she want something bland? I'll make sure to add some spice."

Brown powder from the paper packet fell into the soup pot in a soft patter; it was the Epsom salt she usually used to deal with the greedy servants who would sneak food.

"Even if it doesn't kill you, it'll make her squat in the toilet for three days and three nights!"

Meanwhile, Shen Chumo was leisurely flipping through her phone, her fingertips tracing a photo in her album—a picture of Wang Ma secretly stuffing substandard cooking oil into the warehouse last week.

She smiled slightly, then suddenly raised her voice: "Aunt Wang, I remember there's a jar of osmanthus honey in the kitchen. Let's make a sweet soup later."

The noise in the kitchen suddenly stopped, and Wang Ma's hand holding the soup spoon trembled slightly.

That jar of osmanthus honey was something she had secretly planned to bring home, but she hadn't expected Shen Chumo to even know that. She gritted her teeth, pulled the honey jar from deep within the cabinet, her fingernails almost scratching the tin: "You little bitch, just wait until Master comes back, you'll be sorry!"

When the soup was served, Shen Chumo stared at the strange oil slicks in the bowl and gently stirred it with her spoon.

Jiang Ping feigned sincerity and scooped up a spoonful: "Chu Mo, want to try some? Wang Ma's cooking is pretty good."

"Really?" Shen Chumo suddenly pushed the soup bowl toward Jiang Ping, her smile not reaching her eyes. "Then Pingping, eat more. I remember you also like sweet things."

Jiang Ping's smile froze on her face instantly. Looking at the murky soup in the bowl, her throat tightened.

Wang Ma stood aside, her face turning from white to green – she had planned everything, but she never expected Shen Chumo to pull this stunt.

The air seemed to freeze at that moment, and the only sound in the restaurant was the ticking of the wall clock.

Jiang Ping's knuckles turned white as she gripped the soup spoon, the murky soup reflecting her contorted expression. She caught a glimpse of Wang Ma's deathly pale face and suddenly realized that something unspeakable was likely hidden in that soup.

"I... I suddenly lost my appetite."

Jiang Ping forced a smile and tried to push the soup bowl back, but Shen Chumo pressed down on the rim of the bowl, her fingertips tapping the porcelain surface with a crisp sound.

"What's wrong? You were just saying your cooking was good, but now you've lost your appetite?"

She turned to look at Wang Ma, who was frozen to the side, and said, "Since the young lady has honored you with her presence, Wang Ma, you should at least give her some face, right?"

Wang Ma's throat bobbed, and she took a half step back, knocking over the chair behind her. Shen Chumo had already grabbed a soup ladle, scooped up a bowl of still steaming soup, and handed it to her: "You made this yourself, won't you try some?"

Just as the spoon reached her lips, Wang Ma abruptly shoved it away, splashing brown soup onto Shen Chumo's skirt.

"Miss Shen, why are you pushing us so hard!" Wang Ma's voice trembled. "It's just a bowl of soup, is it really worth making such a fuss over?"

Shen Chumo looked at the stain on the hem of her skirt and clicked her tongue.

Shen Chumo looked at the stain on the hem of her skirt and clicked her tongue. "Wang Ma, tell me, you've served the Jiang family for decades, how come you don't even know a little bit of etiquette? How can you just knock over the master's things like that?"

She slowly took out her phone, and when the screen lit up, a video of Wang Ma sprinkling Epsom salt into the soup was clearly visible.

"Besides, don't you know exactly what good ingredients were added to this soup?"

Wang Ma was stunned. When did the kitchen get a security camera? That's impossible.