BDSMST -Chapter 1 Burn My Dowry? You Little Brat, You’ve Successfully Caught My Attention!

“Fire! There’s a fire!”

“Quick, someone come! Madam! Madam, your dowry… your dowry has all been burned!”

The shrill cries, mixed with the crackling sound of splitting wood, jolted Jiang Suisui awake from her dream.

When she opened her eyes, what met her sight was not the intricately carved canopy of the marquisate bed—but a sheet of blazing red firelight reflected on the window paper, turning half the sky crimson, along with the frantic shadows of servants running about in chaos.

Her personal maid, Chunxing, stumbled in headfirst, her pretty face blackened by smoke. She was crying so hard she could barely catch her breath.

“Madam! You must go take a look! The fire started in the storeroom. Your… your dowry treasures—not a single piece is left! It’s all gone!”

Chunxing wept as if her heart were being torn apart.

That dowry had been her mistress’s foundation in the Marquis Manor! Chest after chest of rare treasures and antiques, bolts upon bolts of fine silks and satins, even priceless calligraphy and paintings passed down from the old family head… Now all of it had turned into a heap of charred ashes! In this man-eating mansion, without those things, how would Madam survive in the future?

And yet—

The expected collapse, the wailing and beating of her chest—none of it came.

Jiang Suisui simply sat up quietly. Her thin nightclothes, illuminated by the firelight, outlined a slender yet straight-backed figure. There was not a trace of panic on her face—no ripple of emotion at all.

“Who did it?”

Her voice was soft, but it cut instantly through the heat and chaos in the room.

Chunxing froze for a moment, then sniffled as she answered, “It… it was the Young Heir. Someone saw him running from the storeroom with a fire starter in his hand. He was shouting that he wanted to burn all the things belonging to you, that ‘bad woman’…”

“Heh.”

A faint chuckle escaped Jiang Suisui’s lips.

Chunxing stared in horror.

Madam… laughed? Her dowry had been completely burned, and she was laughing? Had she gone mad from anger?

“Madam, you… you’re not so furious you’ve lost your senses, are you?” Chunxing cautiously reached out, wanting to feel her forehead.

Jiang Suisui waved her off, lifted the quilt, and stepped barefoot onto the icy cold golden brick floor.

In her previous life, she had worked herself to death, rolling in endless overtime until she collapsed at her desk. When she opened her eyes again, she had transmigrated into this old-fashioned tragic novel as the long-suffering female lead—the main wife of the Marquis of Yongning’s Manor.

Her husband, Gu Yan, was a renowned general with great military achievements, stationed at the border year-round, returning home barely once a year.

Her in-laws treated her as if she were invisible, simply because she came from a merchant family and was deemed unworthy of the marquisate’s noble status.

Worse still, there was a five-year-old stepson, Gu Xuan. The little tyrant was born to Gu Yan’s first wife and had grown into a lawless little demon king, regarding her, his stepmother, as a mortal enemy.

For the past six months since transmigrating, Jiang Suisui had adhered to the principle: “As long as I stay zen enough, no one can abuse me.” She spent her days drinking tea and reading in her courtyard. Life had been peaceful enough.

But she wanted peace—others refused to let her have it.

Burn my dowry?

You little brat, this move of yours… is practically divine assistance!

She had been worrying about not having a reason to leave this gilded cage of a marquisate manor.

“Chunxing.” Jiang Suisui stood still, her gaze passing through the window toward the courtyard where Gu Xuan lived. In her eyes shone a light Chunxing had never seen before—a light called excitement.

“Y-Yes, Madam.”

“Go. Bring me the firewood axe from the backyard.”

“Ah?” Chunxing’s jaw nearly dropped. “M-Madam, what do you need an axe for? The Young Heir… he’s still just a child! Please don’t do anything foolish!”

“Foolish?” Jiang Suisui turned back and gave her a radiant—almost frightening—smile. “The foolishest thing I’ve done in this life was staying here obediently. Now, I’m going to do the smartest thing.”

Chunxing wanted to persuade her further, but when she met Jiang Suisui’s dazzling, blazing eyes, she couldn’t utter a single word. That look—how could it belong to a sheltered noble lady? It was clearly the gaze of a beast long lying in wait, finally seizing its chance to break free from its cage.

Moments later, Chunxing returned, trembling, holding out a rusty wood-chopping axe.

Jiang Suisui weighed the axe in her hand. The heft felt just right.

Holding the axe, dressed only in a thin nightgown and barefoot, she walked step by step toward the towering flames—and toward Gu Xuan’s courtyard—under the stunned gazes of the servants.

The night wind whipped up her long hair and sleeves, while the firelight clawed wildly behind her. That slender figure somehow radiated a ruthless aura—as if gods who blocked her would be slain, and Buddhas who stood in her way would fall.

Everyone was dumbfounded.

Was… was this still the gentle and quiet Madam Jiang?

At the entrance to Gu Xuan’s courtyard, two old servant women blocked her path, putting on fierce expressions while inwardly trembling.

“Madam, what are you doing? The Young Heir has already gone to bed!”

Jiang Suisui didn’t even spare them a glance. She said only two words.

“Move aside.”

“Madam, you cannot go in! The Old Madam specifically instructed—”

Before she could finish, Jiang Suisui’s firewood axe whooshed through the air, slicing past the woman’s nose and slamming heavily into the doorframe!

Bang!

Wood splinters flew everywhere.

The two women screamed and collapsed to the ground in terror.

Too impatient for more nonsense, Jiang Suisui aimed at the large brass lock, swung her arm in a full arc, and brought the axe down hard.

Clang!

The lock snapped in two.

She kicked the door open and strode inside.

In the inner room, the supposedly “asleep” Gu Xuan was lying by the window, gleefully watching the flames rising from the storeroom, his little face filled with the satisfaction of revenge fulfilled.

Hearing the commotion, he whipped around—only to meet Jiang Suisui’s terrifyingly bright eyes glowing in the darkness.

“Y-You… what are you doing here!” Gu Xuan stiffened his neck, pretending to be brave.

Jiang Suisui said nothing. She advanced step by step.

The axe in her hand dragged across the floor, producing a harsh scraping sound that seemed to toll like a death knell.

Gu Xuan finally felt fear. His small body began to tremble as he retreated toward the corner of the bed.

“Don’t come any closer! My father is Gu Yan! If you dare touch me, when he comes back, he won’t let you off!”

“Your father?” Jiang Suisui finally stopped, looking down at him from above with a smile. “Hah. Distant water can’t quench immediate thirst. Right now, he can’t save you.”

She bent down and, under Gu Xuan’s horrified gaze, grabbed the back collar of his sleeping robe and lifted him straight out of the bedding like a little chick.

“You bad woman! Let me go! Help! Murder!” Gu Xuan flailed wildly, punching and kicking.

Jiang Suisui tightened her arm. No matter how he struggled, he couldn’t budge her an inch. With her other hand, she tossed the axe to the ground with a loud clang.

Turning around, she carried the five-year-old little tyrant out with one hand. Facing the stunned servants outside, she issued the first command she had given since arriving in this world:

“Prepare a carriage. At dawn, I’m taking the Young Heir to the countryside estate.”

Her voice wasn’t loud, but every word rang clearly in everyone’s ears.

This marquisate manor—she was done staying here.

As for the script of the long-suffering stepmother? Whoever wants to play that role can take it.

Starting today, Jiang Suisui was going to live differently.