Chapter 27 -

Chapter 27: Chapter

Bai Zhengyu did not say another word. His face stayed completely blank as he turned away.

Lin Feng stepped behind the wheelchair, pushing his master smoothly over the icy stones toward the main house. The wooden wheels left two deep lines in the fresh snow before vanishing into the dark hallway ahead.

Yimei watched him leave for a second before pulling Qinqin inside.

"Miss... your husband is so kind!" Qinqin said, letting out a big sigh of relief as she rubbed her cold hands together. "He actually came out to open the door for us! I really thought we were going to freeze to death!"

Yimei walked down the covered hallway, her boots making soft sounds on the floor. A small smile touched her lips.

"Kind?" Yimei simply shook her head softly at Qinqin’s words. "Come on, let us walk faster so we can get inside and warm up."

They hurried down the covered walkway, leaving the freezing wind behind as they reached the kitchen of the Northern Courtyard. The room was small, but a brass heater glowed with warm red coals, instantly chasing away the chill.

Yimei set the paper basket on the wooden counter and rolled up her sleeves.

"Go dry your hair and sit near the fire, Qinqin," Yimei said gently, picking up a small knife and a piece of fresh ginger. "I will make the soup."

"Miss, let me help—"

"Go," Yimei smiled softly, giving her a gentle push toward the hearth. "You were shivering out there for far too long."

Qinqin nodded obediently, wrapping a dry blanket over her shoulders as she sat by the fire, watching Yimei work.

Yimei sliced the spicy ginger into thin, neat strips. She tossed them into a small iron pot with fresh spring water, added the sweet red dates, and crushed the brown sugar directly into the mix.

Before long, the pot began to boil, filling the cozy kitchen with a rich, sweet, and spicy aroma.

Yimei scooped the hot, golden soup into two porcelain bowls. She left one bowl with Qinqin by the fire, then carefully placed the second steaming bowl onto a small wooden tray.

Leaving Qinqin to warm up, Yimei picked up the tray and walked down the quiet hallway, heading straight toward Bai Zhengyu’s room.

Yimei stopped in front of the quiet room and knocked softly on the wooden door twice.

The door opened almost right away, and Lin Feng stepped out. He looked at the steaming bowl on her wooden tray, his face serious and still.

"Young Madame," Lin Feng said in a polite but distant voice. "The Young Master says he does not want any soup tonight. You should go back and rest."

Yimei stayed quiet for a moment, her face totally calm. Instead of turning around, she held the tray out a little further, gesturing for Lin Feng to take it from her hands.

"I would not have returned home so late if I did not go to the market to get the ingredients for this soup," Yimei said, her voice smooth and gentle in the quiet hallway. "I know he does not owe me any reason to take it, but at least let my effort not go to waste."

Lin Feng looked at her sharp, dark eyes, then down at the hot ginger soup smelling of sweet sugar and dates. He hesitated for a second, surprised by her steady calm.

Before Lin Feng could answer, a cold, deep voice called out from inside the room.

"Bring it in."

Bai Zhengyu did not say a word, nor did he look up at her. He remained entirely still, his long fingers casually turning a page of the dark leather book held in his grip, acting as if she were nothing more than thin air.

Seeing no reply, Yimei set the wooden tray down on the table without a single complaint. She reached for the small porcelain spoon and ladled a portion of the hot, golden ginger liquid into a smaller bowl, gently blowing on it to cool the steam.

While serving the soup, Yimei took the opportunity to glance around his room.

The space was wide and spacious, but it was far from comfortable. Dark curtains blocked out the windows, and the walls looked bare and neglected. It felt heavy, dark, and cold—unbearably cold.

She noticed right away that none of the fresh, high-quality coals she had secured yesterday were burning in his room. The hearth sat completely dark and empty. He had kept his doors locked tight, refusing to allow any of the servants inside to bring the coals in or light a proper fire for him.

"You like freezing yourself, don’t you?" Yimei asked softly, holding the small bowl of ginger soup as she turned back to face him.

Bai Zhengyu’s eyes remained fixed on the page in his hand. He didn’t answer, his sharp face as unmoving as ice, totally ignoring her question.

Yimei didn’t wait for his permission. She pulled a low wooden stool closer, sat down right beside his wheelchair, and brought the small spoon of hot ginger soup up toward his lips.

"Open," Yimei said, her tone smooth and natural, as if she were simply talking to an stubborn child. "If you refuse to burn coals, the least you can do is drink something warm so you don’t freeze to death in your own bedroom."

Zhengyu finally stopped turning the page. His long, dark eyelashes lifted slowly, his cold, lethal gaze dropping to the spoon hovering inches from his face, and then up to Yimei’s calm eyes.

"Do you treat every stranger with such uninvited boldness, Young Madame?" Zhengyu’s voice was low, deep, and razor-sharp in the quiet room. "Or do you simply enjoy testing my patience?"

"I am your wife, not a stranger," Yimei replied without a single flinch, her hand holding the spoon completely steady. "And taking care of a stubborn husband is hardly testing patience. Drink it while it is still hot."

For a long, tense moment, the room fell dead silent. Lin Feng stood near the open doorway, holding his breath, waiting for his master to throw the bowl aside.

Instead, Zhengyu stared at her for three long seconds. A quiet, dangerous glint flashed deep in his dark eyes before he leaned forward slightly and took the sip directly from her spoon.