Chapter 36 -

Chapter 36: Chapter

The moment they stepped out of the Grand Hall, the cold night air rushed toward them, carrying tiny flakes of snow that settled quietly on their shoulders.

Lin Feng pushed Bai Zhengyu’s wheelchair along the stone path leading toward the Northern Courtyard, while An Yimei walked beside them, her hands tucked neatly inside her winter sleeves.

When they reached the entrance of the Northern Courtyard, Yimei stopped.

"Lin Feng."

The guard pulled the wheelchair to a halt. "Young Madame?"

"Go down to the front gate and check the firewood and charcoal supplies," Yimei said directly. "Make sure everything delivered today is logged. Madame Chen’s servants love to steal from this courtyard."

Lin Feng hesitated, looking down at Zhengyu. "My duty is to stay with the First Young Master."

"We are inside our own courtyard," Yimei replied flatly. "He is safe with me."

Zhengyu didn’t even look up. He gave Lin Feng a single, blunt nod. "Go."

"Yes, Young Master." Lin Feng bowed and left quickly.

Yimei stepped behind the wheelchair, grabbed the wooden handles, and pushed Zhengyu up the steps and into his warm, lantern-lit room, shutting the heavy doors behind them.

Zhengyu wheeled himself toward the center of the room, stopping near the crackling brazier. His sharp jaw was set, and his pitch-black eyes were cold.

"You acted like a saint out there," Zhengyu said suddenly. His voice was raw, sharp, and completely unfiltered. "Giving my mother credit for your tea house. Smile at my father. Pretending this family isn’t a pit of snakes."

Yimei walked over to the tea table, pouring a cup of warm water. "It was practical."

Zhengyu let out a harsh, bitter scoff. "You’re delusional if you think kissing their feet changes anything. Have you already forgotten breakfast incident ? My mother slapped you across the face in front of the servants just for standing in her way."

Yimei paused, her fingers tightening around the warm ceramic cup. Her face remained calm, but her dark eyes turned icy.

"I haven’t forgotten," Yimei said smoothly. "I remember every single detail."

"Then why play the dutiful daughter-in-law?" Zhengyu demanded, staring at her with zero attempt to hide his disgust for his own bloodline. "My mother is an arrogant fool who blames everyone else for her misery. My father is a hypocrite who only cares about status. Madame Chen is a poisonous snake, and her son is a useless drunkard. I hate every single person under this roof, and I don’t pretend otherwise."

Yimei walked over and stood right in front of his wheelchair, looking down at him. "Playing nice in public isn’t forgiveness, Zhengyu. It’s strategy. Everyone in this house will get a taste of their own medicine. Sooner or later."

Zhengyu’s eyes narrowed slightly, inspecting her face for any sign of hesitation. "Words are cheap."

"Then let’s talk action," Yimei said, stepping closer until she was standing right before his knees. "What if I help you? What if I help you tear down this entire family and take revenge on every single person here, including your mother?"

Zhengyu’s breath held still for a fraction of a second, but his harsh expression didn’t shatter.

"And what if," Yimei added, her voice dropping into a low, steady murmur, "I cure your disability and put you back on your feet?"

Silence stretched across the room, heavy and suffocating. Zhengyu stared up at her, his dark eyes searching hers, looking for fear, deceit, or hesitation. He found none. She looked back at him dead in the eye, sharp, dangerous, and completely serious.

Zhengyu leaned back in his chair, his hands resting on the armrests, his blunt, unfiltered tone cutting straight through the heavy air.

"You’re out of your mind if you think I believe you can fix my legs," Zhengyu said coldly. "But let’s say you aren’t lying. What do you want in return?"

Yimei didn’t flinch under his cold, unyielding gaze. Instead, she pulled a small wooden stool right up to his wheelchair, sitting down so she was level with his pitch-black eyes.

"I don’t expect you to believe me tonight, Zhengyu," Yimei said, her voice dropping into a quiet, unwavering frequency. "You’ve had top physicians from every corner of the capital tell you that your nerves are dead and that you’ll rot in this chair for the rest of your life. But they were looking at your legs with standard medical books. I look at them as a puzzle that needs solving."

Zhengyu let out a short, dry laugh, but there was no actual humor in it. "A puzzle? You talk about my body as if it’s a game of chess."

"Isn’t everything in this manor a game of chess?" Yimei countered smoothly, resting her hands on her knees. "You asked what I want in return. It’s simple. I want absolute freedom and absolute protection within these walls."

Zhengyu raised a dark eyebrow, his face expressionless. "Elaborate."

"I want your word that when you walk again, when you take back control of the main line and crush Madame Chen, your mother, and your father into the dirt where they belong, you will leave me untouched," Yimei explained, her eyes locking onto his without a single flicker of doubt. "I want full ownership of my businesses. I want your backing whenever your family tries to corner me. And when this war is over, if I decide to walk away, you will let me go without a fight."

Zhengyu stared at her for a long, heavy moment. The crackle of the charcoal in the brazier was the only sound separating them.

He had spent two years sitting in the dark, surrounded by family members who either pitied him, mocked him, or plotted to steal his position as the eldest son. They all wanted something from him..... his title, his compliance, or his slow death.

Yet here was a woman who looked him dead in the eye, admitted she hated his family just as much as he did, and offered him a ruthless business deal wrapped in the promise of his own legs.

"You’re dangerously ambitious," Zhengyu said, his deep voice carrying a cold, dangerous weight. "And you talk a big game for a girl who just opened a tea house."

"Ambitious people get things done," Yimei replied calmly. "Incompetent people end up like An Yulan, kneeling on stone floors with a bruised cheek."

A faint, wicked glint touched the depths of Zhengyu’s dark eyes. "If you fail to cure me, Yimei... if this is just a sweet lie to keep yourself useful in my courtyard... I will make sure you regret ever stepping into the Northern Courtyard."

"And if I succeed?" Yimei asked, extending her right hand toward him, palm open.

Zhengyu looked down at her small, delicate hand, then looked up into her fearless gaze. He didn’t hesitate. Reaching out, his large, calloused hand wrapped around hers in a firm, iron grip.

"If you put me back on my feet," Zhengyu said, his blunt words cutting through the room like a drawn blade, "I’ll give you your freedom, I’ll protect your shops, and I’ll personally help you burn this family to the ground."

Yimei’s lips curved into a sharp, satisfied smile. "Deal."