Chapter 181 -

Chapter 181: Chapter

Standing outside the kitchen in his wheelchair was Zhengyu. His face was completely expressionless, cold as ice, while behind him, Liu Feng looked utterly shocked, his eyes wide with disbelief.

Just a few minutes ago, when Liu Feng had returned to meet his young master, he mentioned that Yimei had gone down to the kitchen with Qinqin. Zhengyu had immediately asked Liu Feng to wheel him out so he could go see her.

Only for them to arrive right at the door just as Qinqin asked that quiet, hesitant question, asking her Young Madame if she truly loved the First Master.

Zhengyu’s heart had stopped dead in his chest the very second that question left Qinqin’s mouth. He hadn’t known whether to stay hidden or turn back, but deep down, a quiet, desperate part of him had wanted needed to hear her say ’yes’.

Instead, every single cold, calculating word Yimei spoke inside that kitchen pierced straight through the air outside, shattering the silence and cutting deep into his heart.

Liu Feng opened his mouth, his voice choked with hesitation. "Young Master—"

Zhengyu raised a single hand, cutting him off mid-sentence. His posture remained rigid, his dark eyes staring blankly at the cold wooden door frame of the kitchen.

"Take me back," Zhengyu commanded quietly. His tone was hollow, stripped of all the low, confident warmth he had practiced earlier that day.

Liu Feng swallowed hard, nodding without another word. He gripped the wooden handles of the wheelchair and quietly turned it around, rolling Zhengyu back down the dark corridor before anyone inside could notice their presence.

Inside the kitchen, Yimei was still standing by the clay stove, adjusting the steam lid over the fresh rice cakes.

PING!

A sharp, violent chime echoed directly inside her mind, accompanied by a flashing red warning window that blurred her vision.

[WARNING! HOST! WARNING!] Nine screamed in total panic, its system voice glitching violently. [TARGET BAI ZHENGYU’S FAVORABILITY HAS DROPPED DRAMATICALLY!]

Yimei’s hand paused over the bamboo steamer. She slightly tilted her head, her sharp eyes narrowing in suspicion.

How much? she asked internally.

[IT DROPPED BY 30 PERCENT! IT’S CURRENTLY AT -30%!] Nine wept frantically, rolling around in her mental space. Yimei looked down at her damp hands, then glanced toward the kitchen door. The soft, near-imperceptible scent of damp snow and fresh outdoor air hung near the entrance, a scent that only drifted in when someone had recently stood outside the doorway.

A slow, cold smirk gradually formed on Yimei’s lips.

He heard, she realized instantly. He came down to find me, and he heard every single word I said to Qinqin.

Instead of showing any panic or remorse, Yimei simply wiped her hands on a dry towel, her expression remaining entirely calm and calculating.

"So his favorability dropped to negative thirty," Yimei murmured softly to herself, her voice smooth as silk. "How interesting. My little husband actually had high expectations for me."

You remind me so much of him Zhengyu but unlike him.. you can easily be in control of your feelings.

She turned back to the counter, untying her apron without a single trace of regret. She picked up the lacquer tray with the freshly steamed rice cakes and walked out of the kitchen, her movements unhurried and graceful.

Qinqin was waiting near the base of the stairs, still looking somewhat shaken by Yimei’s earlier cold words.

Yimei stopped in front of the young maid and handed her the sweet rice cakes. "Here. Eat these while they are still warm."

Qinqin blinked in surprise, looking down at the delicious dessert and then up at her mistress. "Young Madame? But... didn’t you make these for the First Master?"

"He won’t be needing them," Yimei replied smoothly, her voice completely unbothered. "Go eat and get some rest. We have a lot of work to do tomorrow."

"T-Thank you, Young Madame," Qinqin said, bowing deeply before carrying the tray toward the servant quarters.

Yimei walked up the wooden stairs alone, her light steps echoing softly in the quiet house. Reaching the bedchamber, she pushed the wooden door open.

The room was almost entirely dark, lit only by a single dim lantern flickering in the corner.

On the wide bed, Zhengyu was lying under the thick quilt, his back turned to the entrance. His breathing was slow and heavy, giving every appearance that he was fast asleep.

In reality, his dark eyes were wide open in the shadows. His body was stiff under the blanket, his hands clenched tightly into fists against his chest. Every muscle in his back strained to remain completely still, refusing to let her see the pain roaring inside him.

Yimei closed the door behind her with a quiet click. She didn’t call out to him, nor did she walk over to check if he was truly asleep. She knew him well enough to know he was putting up a front, building a thick wall to protect whatever pride he had left.

She unfastened her cloak, draped it neatly over the wooden rack, and walked over to her side of the room. Moving around the bed, she pulled back the edge of the blanket and slipped inside, settling into her place without making a sound.

The silence between them was heavy, cold, and suffocating.

Zhengyu didn’t move an inch. He kept his back rigidly turned to her, staring fixedly at the dark wall, his jaw tight as he forced his breathing to stay steady.

Yimei lay on her back, gazing up at the dark wooden ceiling beams. The red system warning interface still flickered faintly in her peripheral vision:

[TARGET: BAI ZHENGYU | FAVORABILITY: -30%]

A slow, sharp smile curved the corner of Yimei’s lips in the dark.

If Zhengyu thought hiding behind cold silence and negative numbers would make her retreat or panic, he had severely miscalculated. To her, a man who felt deep hatred was just as easy to manipulate as a man who felt deep affection. Both were bound by intense emotion and emotion was something she could always turn to her advantage.

She turned onto her side, looking at the silent, rigid back of her husband.

"Sleep well, Zhengyu," Yimei whispered softly into the dark, her voice silky, sweet, and entirely devoid of warmth.