Chapter 49 -

Chapter 49: Chapter

The dark wooden carriage was parked in the trees, hidden in the night.

Shadow guards loaded the unconscious Zhengyu through the heavy door. They laid his limp body on the padded bench, folded his wheelchair, and packed it beside him. Yimei stepped inside, her dark plum cloak swirling as the guards closed the door tight.

With a click of the reins, the horses pulled the carriage quickly down a hidden southern trail.

Inside, lantern light flickered over Zhengyu’s sharp face. He leaned against the wall, his long lashes resting on his cheeks, completely unaware that he had been kidnapped.

Yimei sat across from him, leaning on the window as she looked at her unconscious husband. She let out a quiet breath and shook her head.

He really is a stubborn beast, Yimei thought with a cold smile.

She knew what would happen when he woke up. He would be furious, glare at her with pure hatred, demand answers, and try to tear her apart.

Yet, as she touched her bandaged arm under her sleeve, Yimei felt no fear at all.

"Let him try," Yimei whispered into the quiet cabin. "The deed is already done."

Nine’s system interface chimed softly in her mind. [Host, the target will wake up in two hours. His hostility will be at its maximum. Are you ready for his reaction?]

Yimei pulled her cloak tighter and closed her eyes.

He can rage all he wants, Nine, Yimei replied mentally. He is trapped in a moving carriage, his legs do not work, and we are heading to the grandmaster. By the time he realizes what I have done, it will be too late to turn back.

As the carriage rolled deeper into the dark southern mountains, Yimei went to sleep, waiting for her husband to wake up.

As the carriage rattled along the mountain road, Yimei watched her husband’s sleeping face.

The fake kidnapping, her injury, and sneaking out at night were all for one goal: Grandmaster Zhang, a legendary doctor hidden in the southern village.

According to the system, the old man was a medical genius who could heal dead nerves and broken bones. But years ago, after a powerful minister betrayed him, the Grandmaster swore to stop treating patients. He now lived in total isolation.

Money, power, and threats could not move him. If anyone rich or noble approached him, he would slam his gates shut and refuse to talk.

If I bring Zhengyu as Young Master Bai with four armed guards and a fancy carriage, Yimei thought with a smirk, the old man will throw us out immediately.

To heal Zhengyu’s legs, they could not act like wealthy nobles. They had to act like a poor, desperate young couple begging for a miracle.

[Host, Grandmaster Zhang’s hostility toward nobles is at 100%,] Nine chimed in her head. [If he learns Young Master Zhengyu’s real identity, the chance to cure his legs drops to 0%.]

Exactly, Yimei replied mentally. The grandmaster pities common folk but hates the rich. For the next week, Zhengyu is not a noble... he is my broke, crippled husband who relies on me for everything.

She looked at Zhengyu’s arrogant face, imagining his horror when he realized he had to act like a humble peasant.

He is going to hate every second of it, Yimei thought, closing her eyes. And that makes it even better.

The carriage stopped quietly at the edge of the small southern village. It was late, and a heavy silence hung over the dark wooden huts as the night wind blew through the mountain trees.

Yimei pulled a small cloth bundle from under the seat. She unwrapped it to find simple, cheap cotton clothes, drab, patched, and completely plain.

She quickly changed out of her fine cloak and noble dress into the rough garments. She tied her hair back with a plain cloth and removed all her jewelry until she looked like an ordinary farmer’s wife.

Yimei pushed open the carriage door and stepped down into the snow.

"Change him," Yimei whispered to the waiting shadow guards. "Take off his silk robes, jade belt, and expensive boots. Put him in these cheap clothes so he looks poor."

"Yes, Young Madame," a guard replied.

The guards stepped inside and quickly stripped Zhengyu of his expensive silk clothing. They dressed his unconscious body in a worn cotton tunic, old trousers, and rough shoes. His noble appearance vanished, leaving him looking like a poor, sick young man.

They lifted Zhengyu back into his wooden wheelchair, which they had also scuffed up to look old and worn.

Yimei crossed her arms, looking at her transformed husband with satisfaction. Young Master Bai was gone; in his place sat a helpless, poor man.

The guards stopped the carriage just out of sight of the village. Heavy snow fell from the dark sky, covering the mountain trail in a thick blanket of white.

Yimei stepped down into the cold and looked at Zhengyu, who was still fast asleep in his cheap, rough cotton clothes.

"Break the wheelchair," Yimei ordered in a low, sharp voice. "Make it look like we were attacked."

The shadow guards stepped forward immediately. With a few hard, powerful kicks, they smashed the old wooden wheelchair into broken pieces. They threw the splinters across the snow to make it look like a real fight had happened.

Yimei knelt down next to Zhengyu. She pulled a small dagger from her boot and cut a small tear into the leg of his trousers. She made a shallow scratch on his skin underneath, letting a little red blood soak into the fabric. She then rubbed dirt and dark mud over his pale face and tore the edges of her own plain clothes.

To make the lie even more believable, she cut her own arm again, smearing blood on her sleeves so it looked like they had both barely escaped a group of violent bandits.

"Leave us now," Yimei said, turning to the guards as she quickly tied a cloth around her arm to slow the bleeding. "Stay hidden and go back to the meeting spot in seven days."

"Yes, Young Madame," the guards replied. They bowed, turned the carriage around, and disappeared silently into the snowy woods.

Yimei was now completely alone on the freezing road with her heavy, unconscious husband.

The icy wind blew hard, stinging her face as the snow fell faster. Yimei bent over, pulled Zhengyu’s limp arms over her shoulders, and dragged his heavy body onto her back. His weight pressed down on her, and her feet sank deep into the snow with every step. Her legs burned and her breath came out in thick white puffs, but she refused to stop. She kept pushing forward toward the small village.

Finally, she saw the wooden gate of Grandmaster Zhang’s simple cottage.

Stumbling through the thick snow, Yimei dragged Zhengyu all the way to the front door. She fell to her knees on the cold ground, letting Zhengyu rest against her shoulder. Both of them were covered in blood, dirt, and white snow.

With her shaking, frozen hand, Yimei reached out and banged hard against the wooden door.