After lunch, Jiang Xuesui strolled through the garden for a while until the feeling of fullness in her stomach subsided, then returned to Jiangxue Residence.
She stood under the eaves of the main house, teaching the parrot on its perch to mimic speech.
The parrot suddenly blurted out, "You're clenching too tight, sweetheart. Relax."
Jiang Xuesui's cheeks instantly burned. Normally, teaching this little thing to recite a single line of poetry was a monumental task—it would forget the first half after learning the second. Yet it had picked up the obscene words Wen Qiao had said to her last night all too quickly.
"You, you won't learn anything good. Say that again, and I'll add a dish of spicy braised parrot tongues to tonight's dinner," she threatened, scratching the little creature's fluffy, walnut-sized head.
"Yuanyuan... obedient good baby... Yuanyuan... obedient good baby..." It flapped its light purple wings, stretched its neck, and rubbed its beak against her face.
"Who are you imitating now?" she asked.
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