The yellow-haired villain in Soaring Phoenix’s novels also desires happiness V1C33

Chapter 33: Deja vu

“Sigh, still as delicious as ever.”

Muen sat at the dining table alone, gracefully manipulating his utensils as he savored tonight’s dinner.

The Duke’s mansion’s chef still maintained his high standards, providing Muen with the utmost gustatory pleasure.

“If you find it so delicious, young master, you shouldn’t even forget to eat your meals.”

An stood behind Muen, unable to resist complaining.

“If the master or the madam were to find out, I would surely be punished.”

“I’m sorry, An,” Muen smiled apologetically, “I’ll be more mindful in the future.”

“Such matters shouldn’t just be empty words,” An bent down to place a sparkling goblet in front of Muen.

“Would the young master like some? This is a rare vintage wine sent by Count Locke. It’s said that his vineyard produces only a hundred bottles of this wine per year, a treasure even he hesitates to drink. It’s been priced at two hundred thousand emirs per bottle on the market.”

“I…”

Muen initially wanted to accept the offer, after all, it was a luxury he couldn’t afford in his past life, and naturally, he wanted to taste it.

But considering the tasks he still had to complete after dinner, knowing that alcohol could impair his memory, Muen suppressed the desire and chose to refuse.

“Never mind, I won’t drink,” Muen said.

An’s hand holding the wine bottle froze.

“…Then what would the young master like to drink?”

“Coffee,” Muen replied.

Coffee would help him stay alert.

Although not the most complementary choice with dinner, Muen didn’t want to bring any beverages to the study where every book was precious.

“…Coffee.”

“What’s wrong?” Muen noticed something off about An. She wasn’t as prompt in fulfilling his request as usual.

“Sorry, young master Muen, but for some reason, tonight your options are limited to red wine or black tea.”

“Hmm?” Muen felt a sense of Deja vu about these words.

However, Muen didn’t dwell on it and instinctively asked, “Why?”

“Due to a maid’s negligence, the bag containing the coffee beans was bitten open by rats, and quite a bit of the coffee inside was eaten by them,” An replied.

“I suppose young master Muen wouldn’t want to drink coffee that rats had nibbled on.”

“…Indeed, I wouldn’t,” Muen nodded. “Then black tea it is.”

Tea served the same purpose of keeping him alert.

“Alright,” An nodded slightly, preparing to leave to brew the tea.

“Wait,” Muen suddenly stopped her, puzzled. “Are you going to brew it yourself, An?”

“Hmm? Young master, am I not a maid?” An replied.

“But you’re already the head maid, and brewing tea is such a trivial matter…”

“Even though I’m the head maid, I’m still your personal maid, young master. So naturally, it’s my duty to brew tea for you personally.”

“Is that so…”

Muen furrowed his brows slightly. “Then go ahead, An.”

“Very well, young master,” An nodded slightly. “I’ll take my leave for now.”

Watching An’s departing figure, Muen couldn’t help but pinch his chin, murmuring in a low voice, “There’s something odd about this, it feels like a Deja vu.”

But he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what was strange.

“Maybe I’m just too tired.”

Muen chuckled self-deprecatingly. “How could An ever do something harmful to me?”

…

Not long after, An brought the black tea.

Perfect timing, as Muen had just finished his meal and was wiping his mouth with a napkin.

“Thank you,” Muen took the black tea, preparing to take a sip.

But as he raised the teacup, Muen froze.

He lowered his head to look at the tea, then raised it again to gaze at An’s expressionless face, unable to resist saying,

“An.”

“I’m here, is there anything else you need, young master?”

“This black tea is really red.”

“But isn’t black tea supposed to be red?”

“But the black tea I used to drink was a light shade of red, while yours is a vibrant red.”

“Perhaps it’s due to different types of tea leaves,” An explained.

“It’s like comparing oranges from the Northdon region to those from the South Nancy territory. Although they are smaller, they are generally sweeter. Different regions’ red teas may also have subtle differences in color.”

“…Then.” Muen pushed the teacup back, staring into An’s eyes. “Would you drink it first?”

“…” An looked at the teacup without speaking.

She remained expressionless, and if it weren’t for Muen being so close that he could sense the faint floral fragrance emanating from her, he might have mistaken her for a statue rather than a living person.

After a moment of silence, An still accepted the teacup.

“Young master, do you doubt me?”

“No, I just feel that you’ve been busy all day, An. You should take a break and have a cup of tea.”

“Young master, you’re so kind,” An said softly as she slowly brought the teacup to her lips.

Muen continued to watch her closely, not missing any odd movements.

Until she completely drank the tea.

“Ah.”

But in the end, An didn’t drink it.

Instead, she sighed suddenly and said softly,

“Young master, when did you become so vigilant?”

“Indeed, there’s a problem!”

Muen jumped up from his chair and stood with his hands on his hips, sneering, “You spiked the black tea, didn’t you? Hmph, trying to deceive me with such an old trick, how naive!”

“An old trick?”

An tilted her head, puzzled. “So, young master, have you used the same trick on someone before?”

“Cough, cough, that’s not important.”

Muen cleared his throat and immediately became serious, his gaze fixed firmly on An in front of him.

“What’s important is why you drugged me, and why you betrayed me, An.”

An was Muen’s personal maid, who had been by his side since he was eight years old. In both the original book and now, An should be the most loyal person to Muen.

So Muen couldn’t understand why this An would betray him.

“I have never betrayed you, young master.”

An lowered her gaze to the teacup, staring at her reflection in the tea, her eyes seemingly calm even in the face of exposure.

But only she knew that beneath that calm gaze lay the darkness and desires she had long suppressed, now surging wildly within her. Surging, surging, until it overflowed.

“I was just… bringing everything back on track,” An said softly.

“Back on track?” Muen furrowed his brows, finding it hard to understand An’s words.

“I don’t care what your intentions are, but since you’ve already failed, then…”

“Failed?”

An suddenly lifted her head, smiling. “Young master, why would you think that?”

“Huh?” Muen was taken aback. It wasn’t just An’s words but also the expression on her usually dignified face that startled him. A slightly menacing expression he had never seen before.

She was indeed smiling, but behind her deep black eyes, it seemed as though some beast was breaking free, casting greedy glances toward Muen like a dragon eyeing a gemstone.

“Crack.”

The crisp sound snapped Muen back to reality.

Muen couldn’t help but widen his eyes in astonishment as he saw An, the same An who had never held a weapon before with her delicate, fair, and agile hands—hands that had tidied his room, arranged his clothes, and poured tea countless times—suddenly crush the teacup into shards.

No, not shards.

Because Muen saw sparkling powder mixed with tea, flowing out from between An’s fingers.

“This is all because you pushed me to it, young master~”

Step by step, An approached Muen.

“This isn’t good.”

As Muen watched this scene, a chill ran from the soles of his feet to his forehead. Was this the kind of grip strength a maid should have?

But before Muen could even rage in his mind, he heard a sound, like something cutting through the air.

It came from behind him.

Then, Muen’s vision went black, and he lost consciousness instantly.