
I Embraced Being Trash, and the Fake Heiress Fell Apart
Chapter 3
The Crimson Wyrm Tasting, an event that would decide the heir to the White family legacy, was set for three days later. The moment the news spread, a restless tension settled over the entire clan.
This was the Whites' highest-stakes gathering. In my previous life, it was the day I was nailed to the pillar of shame, with no way to wash it clean.
The Crimson Wyrm was said to be a rare variant of the Scarlet Mantle trees. There was only a single tin of it across the world. The White family guarded it like their greatest treasure.
Whoever could truly read its hidden notes would earn the right to become the next heir and take control of the entire tea association.
For those three days, I shut myself inside the tasting room and cut off every distraction.
I dug through rare, almost-forgotten texts on the Scarlet Mantle, steeping myself in them until I tuned my palate and nose to their sharpest edge.
Yet trouble always found a way in.
The night before the tasting, Laura came to my door with a cup of hot tea in hand. Her voice was soft.
"Jules, you've worked so hard these past few days, and you've even lost weight. Here, I brewed this calming tea for you myself."
I didn't even bother looking at her. "No, thanks. Just get to the point."
Her eyes reddened instantly, her tears welling up as if on cue. "I… Just don't put too much pressure on yourself tomorrow. The Crimson Wyrm isn't something you can grasp by force.
"It comes down to talent, to state of mind. It's something built over time, through quiet infusion—not something you get by shutting yourself away and cramming."
She said it so eloquently, reducing all my effort to clumsy, brute studying. Meanwhile, she was supposedly the effortless prodigy, someone who never needed to try.
I hadn't even said a word when Liam rushed over to Laura's side, frowning as he scolded me, "She's just trying to look out for you, Juliana! What's with that attitude? Are you mad just because you're insecure?"
"We'll find out tomorrow whether I'm as insecure as you think," I replied coldly, then turned on him. "And you, Mr. Ford—what gives you the right to butt into a conversation between my sister and me?
"Are you homeless? Is your family bankrupt? From the way you mooch off our food and drinks and even stay here all day, it sure seems like it."
He was livid. "You—"
Laura quickly grabbed his arm, tears shining in her eyes as she looked at me. "Jules, don't be mad at Liam. He's only looking out for me. I… Did I say something wrong and upset you again? I'm sorry…"
I couldn't be bothered to watch yet another one of her pitiful acts. I spun around, slammed the door shut, and blocked the two drama queens outside.
Out of sight, out of mind.
The next day, the tea-tasting venue was packed with guests—faces well-known across the tea world, all of them sharp and discerning.
Dad personally opened the antique tin containing the Crimson Wyrm.
The moment the lid lifted, an aroma unlike anything words could capture filled the room. Everyone held their breath.
Laura and I, the only two tasters, took our seats at the head of the table. The tea glowed amber, clear and bright. I lifted the cup and took a careful sip.
Instantly, it was as if a thousand shifting landscapes exploded across my palate—rocky, floral, fruity, and woody notes were woven together, changing and elusive.
Its taste was even better than what I remembered from my previous life.
I forced myself to be calm, focusing all my senses on the tea, unraveling its intricacies layer by layer. When the tasting ended, it was time to report.
Laura went first. She stood, a gentle smile playing on her lips, radiating that kind of confidence that made it seem like she already knew everything there was to know.
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