Chapter 52 -

Chapter 52: Chapter

The soft morning light slowly came through the paper windows, chasing away the dark shadows of the long night. Outside, the freezing snowstorm had finally stopped, leaving the mountain village quiet and covered in fresh white snow.

Yimei opened her eyes early. She did not waste any time lying in bed. She smoothed down her simple blue clothes, tied her hair back into a neat knot, and walked quietly out of her room into the hallway.

The house was already filled with the delicious smell of burning wood and hot rice porridge.

Following the smell, Yimei walked into the warm kitchen. Old Madame Zhang was standing near the stove, stirring a big iron pot over the fire. She moved slowly as she cut vegetables on a wooden board.

"Good morning, Elder," Yimei said softly, giving her a polite, humble smile.

Madame Zhang turned around, looking surprised, but her face quickly turned into a warm smile. "Oh, child! You are up so early! How is your hurt arm today? Did you sleep well?"

"I slept very well, thank you," Yimei replied, walking closer to the stove. She looked at the food on the table. "Elder, you have been so kind to us. Please, let me help you make breakfast for everyone."

Madame Zhang shook her head quickly, waving her hand. "No, no, you are our guest! You almost froze to death last night. Go back and rest with your husband."

"Please, I really want to help," Yimei said, her voice soft and sincere. She gently took the knife from the old woman’s hand with great respect. "Back home, I always did the cooking. I am a very good cook, Elder. You worked so hard to help us last night. Please sit down and let me handle breakfast today."

Madame Zhang looked at the young woman’s gentle eyes and smiled warmly. She really liked this strong, loyal girl who cared so much about her husband.

"A young woman who knows how to cook is a wonderful thing," Madame Zhang said, patting Yimei’s hand. "All right, child. I will let you cook. The spices are in those wooden jars, and there is fresh meat in the basket."

"Thank you, Elder. I will make a good meal for everyone," Yimei bowed slightly.

As soon as Madame Zhang walked out to rest, the sweet look vanished from Yimei’s face. Her eyes turned sharp and calm as she looked at the mountain food.

[DING!] Nine’s voice chimed inside her head. [Host, cooking for Grandmaster Zhang’s family will make them like you even more! A good meal creates total trust.]

I know, Yimei replied in her mind, picking up the knife effortlessly. The old doctor hates rich people who do not work. A hard-working, helpful wife is the best way to make him trust me completely.

With fast, perfect movements, Yimei sliced the meat into thin pieces. She chopped garlic and herbs, throwing them into the hot iron pan. In just a few minutes, a mouth-watering smell filled the entire kitchen, much better than any basic village meal.

She made hot meat porridge, soft warm buns, and tasty vegetables meant to give strength to the body.

Outside the kitchen door, heavy footsteps approached. Grandmaster Zhang and his son, A-Cheng, walked into the main room, brought in by the amazing smell.

Grandmaster Zhang stopped, smelling the air with a very surprised look on his serious face.

"Wife?" the old doctor called out. "What did you put in the breakfast today? It smells amazing!"

Madame Zhang walked out from her room, laughing softly. "That is not my cooking, old man! Our young guest, Xiao Yue, insisted on cooking for us. She said she was a good cook, and she was telling the truth!"

Grandmaster Zhang blinked in surprise. He looked toward the kitchen, watching Yimei carefully put hot porridge into wooden bowls, her actions polite and natural.

[DING!] Nine chimed happily. [Grandmaster Zhang likes you even more now!]

Yimei carried the tray of hot food into the dining room, looking down humbly. "Elder, Master, breakfast is ready. Please eat while it is hot."

At that moment, the door to the guest room opened slowly.

A-Cheng helped Zhengyu come out so he could sit at the low wooden dining table. Zhengyu was still wearing the simple cotton clothes. His face was pale and cold, his dark eyes locked onto Yimei.

He smelled the amazing food on the table and froze. He knew that smell. It was fancy, expert cooking not something a poor farm girl could ever make.

Yimei walked over to Zhengyu, setting a bowl of hot porridge right in front of him. She leaned down close, her face full of fake, sweet devotion.

"Eat up, dear husband," Yimei whispered softly, her eyes flashing with cold, quiet mockery. "You need your strength for the grandmaster’s needles today."

Zhengyu stared at the bowl, his jaw tightening as he looked up at her sharp face. He was trapped in her trick, forced to eat her food and play her loving pitiful husband and worst of all, he knew her plan was working perfectly.

After breakfast was over, Grandmaster Zhang wiped his mouth with a linen cloth and stood up. He looked down at Zhengyu, his strict eyes focused and professional.

"The sun is up," the old physician said, his voice flat and serious. "It is time to begin opening the dead energy paths in your legs. A-Cheng, carry him to the treatment room."

"Yes, Father," A-Cheng replied immediately. He stepped forward, scooped Zhengyu up off the low seat, and carried him back down the wooden hallway.

Zhengyu remained completely quiet as he was carried away. His expression was cold and unreadable, but as he passed Yimei, his dark eyes locked onto hers for a brief second. He did not say a word, yet the quiet threat in his stare was clear: Do not mess this up.

Yimei simply gave him a small, obedient nod, playing her role as a worried wife to perfection.

Once the men were gone, Yimei turned her attention back to the table. She gathered the empty bowls and carried them into the warm kitchen to help clean up. Madame Zhang walked in behind her, taking a seat on a low stool near the hearth.

As the old woman sat down, Yimei noticed her shoulders shiver slightly. Madame Zhang pulled her woolen shawl tighter around her chest, rubbing her arms.

"Elder, are you feeling cold?" Yimei asked gently, setting a bowl down in the wash basin. "The storm stopped, but the morning air is still very freezing."

Madame Zhang smiled weakly, waving a hand in the air. "Oh, do not worry about me, child. I always feel this way most of the time. My body just does not handle the winter chill like it used to. I am alright."

Yimei nodded politely, but her sharp eyes quickly scanned the kitchen shelves. On a wooden rack near the window, she spotted fresh ginger root, dried jujube dates, dark brown sugar, and dried orange peels.

An idea formed in her mind instantly. Back in her past life, she had perfected a special signature ginger tea designed to warm the blood, drive out internal dampness, and soothe winter chills.

"Elder, would you mind if I used some of your ginger and brown sugar?" Yimei asked, turning back to the old woman with a sweet, helpful smile. "I know a special hot tea recipe that is very good for driving away the cold."

Madame Zhang looked up from her lap, her eyes lighting up with gentle appreciation. "Of course, child. Use whatever you need."

The old woman reached over to pick up an unfinished wicker basket she had been working on earlier, her fingers moving slowly to weave the dried reeds together as she rested by the warm stove.

Yimei went straight to work. She peeled the fresh ginger root, slicing it into thin, paper-thin pieces. She crushed the dried dates, tossed them into a small clay pot with the ginger, brown sugar, and a pinch of dried orange peel, then poured fresh spring water over the mix. She set the pot directly over the glowing embers.

Within ten minutes, a rich, spicy, and sweet steam began to fill the small kitchen.

Yimei carefully ladled the hot dark liquid into a small ceramic cup and carried it over to the old woman. "Elder, please drink this while it is very hot."

Madame Zhang set her weaving basket aside and took the cup with both hands, enjoying the deep warmth seeping into her palms. She blew gently on the dark tea and took a slow sip.

As the hot liquid traveled down her throat, the old woman’s eyes widened in genuine delight. A healthy, rosy color instantly returned to her pale cheeks, and the deep, cold ache in her chest seemed to ease up right away.

"Oh, my goodness!" Madame Zhang gasped softly, looking down at the cup in surprise. "Child, this is wonderful! Truly, this is one of the best teas I have ever tasted in my entire life!"

Yimei lowered her head, giving a modest, timid smile. "You are too kind, Elder. Many people have told me that before... but to be honest, I still feel like there is something missing from the flavor. I can never seem to get it completely perfect."

Madame Zhang raised the cup again, taking another slow, thoughtful sip. She let the liquid linger on her tongue, tasting the sharp spice of the ginger, the rich sweetness of the dates, and the faint bitter undertone of the orange peel. She nodded slowly, her expression turning wise and observant.

"You have a very talented hand, child," Madame Zhang said gently, setting the cup down on her lap. "The warmth and spice are balanced beautifully. But if you feel a piece is missing, it is because you used orange peel instead of dried licorice root. Licorice ties the sweet dates and sharp ginger together smoothly, taking away that sharp burn at the end of your throat."

The old woman smiled fondly at Yimei, patting her hand. "My husband keeps a jar of finest dried licorice root in his medical cabinet. Next time you make this, add a tiny pinch of that. It will make your tea absolute perfection."