Chapter 47 -

Chapter 47: Chapter

The heavy wooden wheels of the carriage turned smoothly over the packed snow, leaving deep tracks along the main road leading away from the capital.

Escorting the carriage was a modest team: Lin Feng, four armed Bai family guards on horseback, Qinqin, and another young courtyard maid traveling in a smaller trailing wagon with the wooden trunks. Inside the main carriage, however, it was only Yimei and Zhengyu.

The air inside was warm, heated by a small, secured brass stove, but the atmosphere between the husband and wife was freezing cold.

Zhengyu sat slumped against the thick silk cushions, his jaw tight and his face dark with suppressed rage. Three days ago, when she had first brought up this ridiculous trip, he had been confused, but he had ultimately dismissed it. He had made up his mind that he wasn’t going anywhere. He was the dark, feared eldest young master of the Bai estate; no one moved him unless he allowed it.

Yet, this insane woman had marched into his room, grabbed his wheelchair, and practically dragged him out into the courtyard before he could even call for Lin Feng.

Zhengyu held an open book in his hands, but he hadn’t turned a single page in over an hour. His pitch-black eyes were fixed on Yimei over the top of the parchment.

Yimei sat directly across from him, completely unbothered by his murderous glare. A small wooden board rested on her lap, and she was busy dipping a thin charcoal stick into a container, furiously writing down ingredient measurements, recipe costs, and profit projections for her new winter drinks with Xiao Jun.

Finally, Zhengyu slammed his book shut with a loud thud.

"Where are you taking me, An Yimei?" Zhengyu demanded, his voice dropping into a dangerous, gravelly whisper. "You forced me out of my room, dragged me into this carriage, and yet you haven’t said a single useful word since we crossed the city gates."

Yimei didn’t even look up from her calculations. She neatly noted down a number before speaking in her usual flat, direct tone.

"I told you three days ago," Yimei replied smoothly. "We are going to the southern village."

"Do not play word games with me!" Zhengyu snapped, leaning forward, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge of his seat. "You don’t care about ’fresh air’ or ’mineral springs,’ and you certainly don’t care about my health. So what is your real motive?"

Yimei stopped her writing. She slowly raised her eyes, pinning his furious gaze with absolute, unyielding calm.

"You will find out soon enough, Husband," Yimei said, a faint, cold curve touching her lips. "For now, sit back, read your book, and try not to waste your breath."

[DING!] Nine’s voice chimed in her mind. [Host, Young Master Zhengyu’s anger is boiling! His hostility is flickering at 99%!]

Good, Yimei thought back, returning her attention to her paper. Let him stay angry. It will keep his mind occupied until we arrive.

Zhengyu glared at her, gritting his teeth so hard his jaw throbbed. He turned his head toward the frosted window, cursing her silently as the carriage rolled deeper into the countryside.

Yimei blew gently on the drying ink, setting down her writing brush as the last recipe was finished. Night had fully fallen, casting a dense, heavy shadow over the snow-covered roads.

This was the start of the main reason she had brought Zhengyu south.

She leaned toward the front window and called out to the driver. "Stop the carriage."

The driver pulled the reins with a heavy tug, and the carriage slowed to a complete halt with a soft crunch against the thick snow.

The sudden movement woke Zhengyu from his light sleep. He opened his eyes, dark and instantly alert, rubbing his temple as he glared at her through the dim lantern light.

"Why are we stopping?" Zhengyu asked, his voice rough from sleep and sharp with suspicion.

"We need to find an inn nearby and stay for the night," Yimei said calmly, adjusting her thick cloak. "It is far too dangerous to ride through the southern mountain passes at night, especially in this heavy snow."

Zhengyu opened his mouth to argue, a sharp remark sitting right on the tip of his tongue, but he stopped himself.

She was right. The southern routes were notorious for sudden snowslides and organized mountain bandits who preyed on vulnerable night travelers. It clicked in his mind why his uncles had looked so strangely pleased when they heard three days ago that he was traveling to the southern region. They were likely hoping the treacherous roads or "accidents" would take care of him permanently without them having to lift a finger.

Zhengyu swallowed his retort, his dark eyes narrowing as he stared at his wife.

"Lin Feng!" Zhengyu called out toward the front door. "Is there an inn nearby?"

"Young Master," Lin Feng’s voice came through the thick wooden door. "There is a small roadside inn just two hundred yards ahead. The guards have already gone to check the perimeter."

"Good," Yimei said before Zhengyu could speak, taking control of the situation. "We stay there until dawn."

They arrived at the rustic roadside inn, the wooden building standing dark against the howling snowstorm.

Lin Feng and the four guards immediately split up. The driver and two guards stayed outside in the freezing cold to guard the carriage, horses, and wooden trunks so nothing was stolen in the middle of the night.

Inside the warm, dimly lit tavern area, Qinqin rubbed her shivering arms and turned to Yimei. "Young Madame, I will stay outside with the driver and the other maids to keep watch on the wagon—"

PA!

Yimei reached out and gave Qinqin a light, sudden smack on the forehead.

"Ouch! Young Madame?" Qinqin gasped, clutching her brow with wide, watery eyes.

"Nonsense," Yimei said flatly, walking straight to the innkeeper’s wooden counter. "You are my maid, not an iron soldier. I am not letting you freeze to death out there."

Yimei spoke to the tired innkeeper and collected two brass room keys. She immediately tossed the first key straight into Qinqin’s hands.

"Take this," Yimei commanded smoothly. "Go upstairs with the other female servants who came along to serve. Keep warm and rest."

Qinqin held the key like a precious gem, her eyes shining with absolute gratitude. "Thank you, Young Madame!"

Yimei held the second key between her fingers, turning around to face Zhengyu, who was sitting in his wheelchair near the warm hearth, looking utterly miserable.

"The second room is for us," Yimei stated, her voice calm and indisputable.

Zhengyu’s sharp eyebrows instantly shot up, his face twisting in disgust and pure refusal. "I am not staying in the same room as you."

Lin Feng quickly stepped up to his master’s side, trying to come to the rescue. He bowed respectfully toward Yimei. "Young Madame, please understand. Young Master Zhengyu values his privacy greatly. He has never shared a room with anyone—"

"Shut your mouth, Lin Feng!" Zhengyu snapped, glaring up at his guard with a red face. "Why are you explaining my personal habits to her?! Who gave you permission to defend me to this woman?!"

Lin Feng instantly clamped his lips shut and stepped back with a low bow.

Zhengyu turned his glare back to Lin Feng. "Go to the innkeeper and buy another key. I want my own room."

Lin Feng scurried back to the counter, spoke to the innkeeper for a brief second, and came right back, looking sheepish. "Young Master... there are no more keys. All the other rooms have been booked by traveling merchants dodging the storm. Those were the last two."

Yimei folded her arms over her chest, a cold, mocking glint dancing in her dark eyes as she looked down at her wheelchair-bound husband.

"Well, Husband," Yimei said smoothly, her voice laced with light sarcasm. "Since you love your privacy so very much, you are more than welcome to sleep outside in the snow. Or perhaps you can park your chair right here in the hallway. Everyone is asleep, so I assure you, no one will disturb your precious privacy."

Zhengyu’s jaw tightened so hard his teeth clicked, his black eyes burning with a dangerous rage as he stared at her smug, unbothered face.