The improved female villains regained their memories.

Today's dish: Mo Chang Su (a type of pastry)

The finished product is presented as follows: the surface is a burnt brown like ashes, but when you bite into the flaky crust, a golden-red molten center bursts out, like the hot tears left behind by her burning soul. The first taste is a cold, calculating bitterness, followed by a wave of agonizing pain sweeping across the tongue, finally igniting a raging flame of love in the throat that lingers for a long time.

A note to diners: With each bite, you see her looking back from the abyss, sometimes ferocious like a demon, sometimes pure like a saint. Please don't be surprised; this is simply a case of not questioning common sense, but loving to the point of madness.

The Villain's Family Meals (Bonus Chapter): Li Chumo Can't Cook

Su Murong stopped Li Chumo: "Wait, let's discuss something."

Li Chumo stopped and looked up at her: "Is there something you need?"

Su Murong nodded hurriedly, smiling, "I'll invite you to Zuixianlou."

Zuixianlou is the best restaurant in the capital. It is said to have been opened by a mysterious person. The first floor is open to everyone, but the private rooms upstairs are only accessible to a select few.

Li Chumo frowned slightly and asked, "Are you alright?"

The court session had just ended, and many people were on their way home. Li Chumo was afraid that Su Murong would have a relapse and then roll around at her feet acting like a scoundrel.

Seeing that Li Chumo was getting impatient, Su Murong quickly said with a grin, "I have something to say, I want to switch with you."

"No change."

"Why!"

"You lost and are in last place, why do you think that is?" Li Chumo wagged her tail. She wasn't stupid. "Just wait and see."

"You can switch with me." Su Murong grabbed her by the neck and whispered, "I'll let you go today too."

"Isn't it Luo Benmo today?"

"I added some good stuff to the medicine Lone Wolf gave her; I bet she's still stuck in the outhouse."

"..."

No wonder Li Chumo hadn't seen Luo Benmo all day; she assumed he'd broken his promise and gone early in the morning, but it turns out...

"Shameless," Li Chumo commented, "but he did a good job."

"Right?" Su Murong said with a grin, "I've drawn the hatred away. Nobody knows that Luo Benmo's position is vacant today, so I told you. If you switch places with me, you can take Luo Benmo's place today. How about it?"

"You can go twice," she whispered in Li Chumo's ear. "Excited yet?"

"......"

Li Chumo coughed and said, "I won't do something so unethical."

"You beast, why do you care about this?" Su Murong said disdainfully. "Luo Benmo has arranged to meet Yang Pingsheng in the top-tier private room on the top floor of Zuixianlou. If you want to go, go now. If not, I'll go for you."

"I go."

"Should we change it or not?"

"It's changed!"

She and Su Murong made a high five to pledge their vows, and then she hurriedly ran towards the Tianzi Building.

The setting sun was slowly sinking under the eaves of the capital city, spreading a brilliant orange-red across the sky. The clouds seemed to be on fire, their edges shimmering with golden light.

The entire street was bathed in this warm light, the bluestone pavement reflecting a soft halo, casting long shadows of pedestrians, as if imbued with a touch of hurried poetry. Li Chumo had no time to appreciate the twilight; she hurried along in the bright light, her heart pounding as if she were carrying a restless bird.

The vermilion gates of Zuixianlou were close at hand. Instead of going through the main hall, she skillfully made her way to the side corridor and quickly climbed the wooden stairs reserved for distinguished guests. Her footsteps were exceptionally clear in the quiet corridor, each sound echoing her heartbeat.

She ran all the way to the top floor, slightly out of breath, with fine beads of sweat on her forehead.

In front of the top-tier room, she paused briefly, straightened her slightly disheveled clothes and hair, took a deep breath, and then pushed open the carved wooden door.

The room offered a wide view, with the entire west-facing window seemingly capturing the entire sunset, its shimmering light filling the room. A figure sat by the window, gently enveloped in the warm twilight, as if edged with a thin layer of gold. He gazed quietly at the setting sun outside, his profile serene and focused.

The teapot on the small stove was bubbling away, wisps of white steam rising gently, and the refreshing aroma of tea quietly spreading through the air, soothing the soul. Li Chumo watched the person's retreating figure, unconsciously pursing her lips, her throat bobbing slightly, as if she had suddenly become thirsty.

"Master... in his life."

Upon hearing the sound, the person slowly turned around.

The warm afterglow cast a soft outline on his body, and a gentle smile played in his eyes as his gaze fell softly on Li Chumo's face.

“I thought it would be Luo Benmo,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of knowing and gentle teasing, “but I didn’t expect it to be you, Xiao Mo.”

It was Yang Pingsheng.

He smiled slightly, raised his hand and beckoned her closer. The gesture was natural and friendly, as if there had never been any distance or estrangement between them.

Li Chumo's heart was still pounding, and she was still feeling a little timid and uneasy.

She hesitated before taking a step, slowly approaching him, and finally bent down slightly in front of him, lowering her head until her forehead touched his warm, dry palm.

"You've worked hard," he said.

Just those words caused Li Chumo to suddenly feel a lump in her throat, and her vision blurred rapidly. She was a beastman, her emotions always straightforward and turbulent, unlike humans who were adept at concealing and restraining them. The next second, she practically crashed into Yang Pingsheng's arms, clutching his clothes tightly, and burst into tears.

All the suppressed grievances, like a flood bursting its banks, could no longer be contained.

Yes, she's doing well now. Her grandmother and her people have been reborn because of the reshaping of the new world, and everyone seems to have a happy ending... But she still feels sad. Something inside her feels crumpled, and she can't smooth it out no matter what she does. She's tried so hard, given so much, so why... why did he want to abandon her?

This thought was like a tiny thorn, pricking her painfully.

She didn't want him to think that way. Not even for a moment.

Li Chumo cried without any regard for her image, tears streaming down her face as if she were pouring out all the unease and sorrow she had felt over the past few days. She cried so intensely that she didn't notice that the sun had already completely sunk below the horizon, and outside the window, the lights of the capital city were gradually illuminating, with carriages and horses moving about the streets and alleys, and the sounds of people echoing through the air.

Until a maid wearing an exquisite mask silently walked in, laid out fragrant dishes on the table, and then quietly withdrew, Li Chumo was still sobbing in Yang Pingsheng's arms, as if she wanted to shed all the tears she had in this life tonight.

Yang Pingsheng patted her back to comfort her: "Xiao Mo, all the dishes are served, we can eat now, or they'll get cold."

Li Chumo nodded, but did not move.

So Yang Pingsheng stopped urging her and just held her in his arms.

It wasn't until a very long time later, long enough that she slapped her tail hard on the ground in frustration, that she finally asked, "Why?"

"Why what?" Yang Pingsheng asked.

"Why are you doing this to me!" she said angrily. "Erasing my memories and toying with my feelings, does this make you happy?"

"Okay, I was wrong, I'm sorry." He admitted his mistake decisively.

His apology was so swift and decisive, almost like a rehearsed, standard response. Li Chumo's pent-up grief and grievance seemed to crash into a soft yet impenetrable wall, all her remaining words stuck in her throat. She glared at him, her breath caught in her throat, and finally managed only a soft, ambiguous snort from her nose before turning her head away.

"Forget it," she thought bitterly. The other female villains had probably questioned him like this countless times, hadn't they? He was probably already used to it, handling it with practiced ease. This apology, so smooth, contained not a trace of sincerity; how could she possibly get the answer she truly wanted from him?

That's enough. Just being able to quietly lean against him like this, feeling this brief but real warmth, is already enough.

"I'm going to lie here!"

"Row."

"I want you to feed me!"

"Row!"

“I want you to tell me stories, stories from the past!” she shouted. “I want to hear your stories with them!”

Yang Pingsheng was taken aback for a moment, then smiled helplessly: "Why should we listen to them?"

When the villains come over, they usually reminisce about their past with him, but Li Chumo is the only exception; he listens to others.

"I want to hear it! I want to hear it! I want to hear it! I want to hear it!!!"

"Fine, fine, fine." Yang Pingsheng sighed helplessly. "Then whose opinion do you want to listen to?"

"Tell me about whoever you first met!"

"Then I'll start with Ye Buxin."

"Why her!?"

"It's a long story..."

He talked a lot.

It tells the story of the Guigu School, the story of Fusu and his companions, the battles fought on the battlefield, and the political intrigues.

He recounted how Zhou Jinyu died on that snowy day, and Li Chumo's ears and tail suddenly drooped down.

Yang Pingsheng noticed that she was in low spirits and asked, "What's wrong?"

"I think you're really awful," she said, sniffing. "She waited for you for so long, but you forgot to go back to her."

"..."

“We fox people believe that love means waiting.” She said with red eyes, “It is because you love someone so much that you are willing to wait for him, even in the midst of a blizzard or a torrential downpour.”

Yang Pingsheng fell silent.

"Is that so..."

If he could go back to those days, how would he view Zhou Jinyu's heavy and persistent feelings? Perhaps she was right; they were indeed the same kind of people at heart, both harboring an almost obsessive longing for warmth, knowing that they might be consumed by it, yet still willing to be moths drawn to the flame.

He composed himself and began to stroke it again.

When facing a female villain, he doesn't think about his relationships with other female villains; this is a rule he sets for himself.

He wanted to take every relationship seriously, and he wouldn't have even thought of it if Li Chumo hadn't brought it up.

Zhou Jinyu and others, but wasn't Li Chumo also waiting? She was just a little fox spirit, in such dire straits, for such reasons, striving all this time for a few fish and a few baskets of fruit.

"You're right, so Xiao Mo, thank you for your hard work."

He held her and kissed her cheek.

“I truly felt these feelings, especially yours, Xiao Mo. I will always be with you and never abandon you again.”

Li Chumo nodded vigorously, and then tears welled up in her eyes again.

Su Murong stood alone in the shadows of the corridor, his fingertips gently loosening the string tying his mask.

She removed the mask that concealed her emotions, revealing a face with a complex expression. She sighed silently, her breath condensing into a small wisp of white mist in the cool air before quickly dissipating.

"Sigh... why am I doing this to myself?"

Her original plan was so clear: first, she would trick Luo Benmo into withdrawing from the competition, and then, in the top-class room of the Drunken Immortal Pavilion, she would "accidentally" trick Li Chumo into falling into her trap.

But just now, she heard faint sobs and whispers from inside through the door, as well as Yang Pingsheng's rare gentle comfort. Suddenly, she felt that her scheming was particularly despicable and inappropriate.

The atmosphere inside couldn't contain her dark scheming. She ended up being the one who didn't understand.

She leaned against the cold, carved wooden door, gazing up at the dim, yellowish light of the lanterns on the veranda ceiling for a while. Finally, as if a heavy burden had been lifted, her shoulders relaxed slightly, and she murmured to the closed door in a voice almost only she could hear: