Chapter 46 -

Chapter 46: Chapter

An Yulan lay on the cold floorboards, her hand pressed against her swollen cheek. Tears burned in her eyes as she stared up at Bai Wenliang in total disbelief.

"You... you hit me?" An Yulan whispered, her voice shaking.

"I hit you because you don’t know your place!" Wenliang yelled, wiping his dripping face with his sleeve. "You shout at my mother in our own room? You are my wife! If our branch loses face because of my exam, it is your duty to suffer with us, not talk back!"

Madame Chen watched the scene, her shock quickly turning into a cruel smirk. She folded her arms over her chest, looking down at An Yulan like dirt under her shoe.

"He hit you because you deserve it," Madame Chen said coldly. "You act so proud, yet you were given to my son. You are not Yimei, so stop comparing yourself to her. Yimei knows how to keep her mouth shut in front of elders. You know only how to cause trouble."

An Yulan bit her lip so hard she tasted blood. She looked at her maid, Lan Yu, who was kneeling in the corner, trembling in fear.

"Get up and clean yourself," Madame Chen commanded, turning toward the door. "And make sure my son stays at that desk until he reads every single page. If I come back tonight and find him drinking again, I will have your maid beaten with wooden boards."

Madame Chen walked out, her heavy footsteps echoing down the hallway.

The room fell completely silent. Wenliang kicked a fallen chair out of his way, picked up the top exam book, and slammed it onto the desk.

"What are you staring at?!" Wenliang barked at An Yulan. "Go fetch fresh tea! Do you expect me to study with a dry throat?!"

An Yulan slowly pulled herself up from the floor, her hands shaking. She didn’t say a single word. She kept her head lowered as she walked toward the tea set, but behind her long sleeves, her fingernails dug deep into her palms.

An Yimei... An Yulan thought, a dark hatred swelling in her chest. This is all because of you, Mother would never have taken her anger out on me. I will make you pay for this.

Three days later, in the Northern Courtyard, the morning air was cold and calm.

Yimei stood in her chamber while Qinqin finished packing two sturdy wooden chests with warm clothing and travel supplies.

The door opened, and Lin Feng stepped inside, bowing low.

"Young Madame," Lin Feng reported. "The four guards granted by Old Madame Bai are ready outside. The carriage has been lined with thick wool blankets for the Young Master. We are prepared to leave for the southern village at dawn."

"Good," Yimei said, setting down a jar of tea. "Has my husband made any trouble today?"

Lin Feng hesitated briefly. "Young Master Zhengyu has stayed in his room all morning. He has not spoken, but he allowed his servant to pack his robes."

Yimei gave a small nod. "As long as he gets into the carriage, his mood does not matter."

[DING!]

Nine’s blue interface popped up in her mind.

[Host, Second Young Madame An Yulan’s hostility toward you has reached 95%. She blames you for her punishment.]

A faint, cold smile touched Yimei’s lips.

Let her blame me, Yimei replied mentally.

Then she paused, her brow furrowing slightly in genuine confusion.

Wait, Nine, Yimei added in her mind, her expression softening into a rare look of puzzlement. What punishment? What happened to An Yulan?

[DING!] Nine chimed cheerfully. [Host, after Old Madame Bai publicly humiliated Madame Chen at breakfast over Bai Wenliang’s drinking, Madame Chen returned to her courtyard in a rage. When An Yulan walked in laughing, Madame Chen snapped, locked both An Yulan and Bai Wenliang in their quarters under threat of selling the servants, and Bai Wenliang slapped An Yulan across the face for talking back to his mother!]

Yimei blinked, processing the unexpected update. A faint, genuinely amused glint flickered in her dark eyes.

So Madame Chen took out her shame on her own daughter-in-law, and Wenliang hit her for it? Yimei thought, a cold, quiet scoff escaping her lips internally. And somehow, in An Yulan’s twisted mind, her husband’s violent temper and her mother-in-law’s cruelty are my fault?

[Precisely! System metric indicates logic is irrelevant to her hostility levels. She believes if your shop hadn’t burned down, Old Madame Bai wouldn’t have brought up the exam books in the first place!]

A fool will always find someone else to blame for the fire burning in her own house, Yimei replied, her face returning to its usual still, unreadable calm. Let her rot in her locked room while we go south.

She turned her attention back to Qinqin. "Finish packing. Today, we depart."

Yimei walked straight into Zhengyu’s chamber, her heavy footsteps echoing in the quiet room.

Zhengyu sat by the window in his wheelchair, his arms crossed over his chest, looking like a stubborn, unmoving statue. His dark eyes narrowed in pure annoyance the second she stepped through the door.

Before he could utter a single cold word, Yimei marched right behind his wheelchair, grabbed the wooden handles, and kicked off the brake.

"What are you doing?!" Zhengyu barked, his voice sharp and angry.

Yimei didn’t answer. She simply shoved the wheelchair forward with full force, rolling him straight out of his room into the cold morning air.

"Woman! Unhand me!" Zhengyu growled, grabbing the wheels to stop them, but Yimei slapped his hands away and pushed harder, driving the chair down the wooden ramp into the courtyard.

"Listen to me carefully, Zhengyu," Yimei said, her voice dropping into a razor-sharp whisper right beside his ear as she pushed him. "You are going to the southern village today whether you like it or not. You can glare at me all you want, you can curse me in your head, but you will sit in that carriage."

Lin Feng and the four guards stood by the estate gate, their eyes wide in complete shock. None of them had ever seen anyone dare treat the fierce Young Master Bai with such total disrespect. Lin Feng quickly stepped forward to help, but Yimei held up her hand, stopping him in his tracks.

"Open the carriage door," Yimei commanded flatly.

Zhengyu’s face was dark with fury, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the armrests. "You will regret this, An Yimei."

"I rarely regret anything," Yimei replied without a single flicker of fear.

With Lin Feng’s tense assistance, Zhengyu was lifted from his wheelchair and placed onto the cushioned seat inside the grand carriage. Yimei climbed in right behind him, smoothing her plum-colored cloak before settling onto the opposite seat with absolute calm.

Qinqin quickly handed up the wooden chests, and the heavy carriage doors shut with a loud thump, locking out the freezing wind.

[DING!] Nine’s voice rang inside Yimei’s head. [Host! Young Master Zhengyu’s hostility metric has hit 98%! He currently wants to strangle you!]

Let him want to, Yimei thought back coldly, locking eyes with her furious husband as the carriage wheels began to turn, carrying them out of the Bai estate toward the south.