Chapter 82 -

Chapter 82: Chapter

Yimei covered Qinqin’s bowl of soup to keep it hot, then placed Zhengyu’s chicken porridge and his piping-hot bowl of dark decoction onto a wide wooden tray. Picking up the tray, she marched straight out of the kitchen and headed across the dark courtyard toward his room.

Pushing the door open with her elbow, she stepped into the dimly lit chamber. Zhengyu was sitting by the window, staring out into the night with a cold, unreadable expression.

"You really expect to plot the downfall of your enemies on an empty stomach?" Yimei said, walking over and setting the tray down on his desk with a soft thud.

Zhengyu didn’t even look up at first. "I am not hungry."

Yimei rolled her eyes, picking up the spoon and shoving the bowl of porridge closer to him. "Eat. I didn’t spend thirty minutes standing over a hot stove just for you to act dramatic. You need your strength if you’re coming to the Minister’s mansion tomorrow."

Zhengyu’s dark eyes flicked over to her. Looking at the hot steam rising from the porridge and the bitter medicine sitting right beside it, his lips twitched into a faint, amused line. He slowly reached out and picked up the spoon.

"You talk too much," he muttered, taking a small bite.

"And you don’t talk enough," Yimei countered, sitting across from him and resting her chin in her hand. "Drink every single drop of that medicine after you finish the porridge. I’ll be waking you up before the sun is even up, so don’t you dare oversleep."

"Who said I was going?" Zhengyu asked quietly, setting his spoon down with a slow, deliberate click. His dark eyes flicked toward her, cold and entirely unbothered. "I have no interest in sitting through a meaningless banquet, listening to fools chatter about things that do not concern me."

Yimei tilted her head, a mischievous, dangerous smile spreading across her lips as her sharp eyes locked onto him.

"Oh, please, Bai Zhengyu," she purred, leaning closer across the wooden table with a playful tilt of her chin. "Are you really going to play the stoic, brooding husband with me? You know as well as I do that if you stay cooped up in this courtyard, Madame Zhang and Madame Liu will spend the entire evening snickering about how the First Young Master is too weak to face high society."

Zhengyu didn’t budge. He simply leaned back, crossing his arms with an unimpressed glare. "Let them talk. Their mindless gossip changes nothing."

Yimei’s grin widened, her eyes sparkling with pure tease as she tapped her fingers against the wooden tray. "Suit yourself, husband. But I promise you, tomorrow is going to be far too entertaining for you to miss and I would hate for you to hear about all the fun second-hand."

Zhengyu didn’t even flinch. He kept his arms crossed, his gaze remaining as cold and unyielding as ice. "A few bitter words from Madame Zhang won’t move me, Yimei. I am not going."

Yimei’s smile didn’t fade for a second. Instead, her eyes sparkled with playful defiance.

She set the empty tray back down on the table, smoothed her skirts, and took a slow, deliberate step toward him. He sat motionless in his wheelchair, watching her with a sharp, suspicious glare as she closed the distance between them.

Stopping right in front of him, Yimei slowly bent down, placing both of her hands firmly on the armrests of his wheelchair. She brought her face just inches away from his, her warm breath brushing against his cheek as her dark eyes locked onto his cold ones.

"If you don’t go," Yimei whispered, her voice low, sweet, and dangerous, "then I’ll tease you."

"If you come with me tomorrow," Yimei whispered, her eyes sparkling with mischief, "then I will..."

"Do whatever I say for a whole day," Zhengyu cut in smoothly, his deep voice cutting her off before she could even finish.

Yimei blinked, caught off guard for a second, but she kept her hands firmly on his wheelchair’s armrests. "Excuse me?"

Zhengyu’s dark eyes locked onto hers, a slow, clever smirk breaking through his usual cold face. He leaned forward just a bit, his breath warm against her lips.

"You want me at that banquet to ruin Madame Zhang’s pride and stand tall as the First Young Master," he said softly, his voice full of quiet power. "If I agree to leave this room tomorrow and put on a show for the entire capital, those are my terms. You obey every command I give you for twenty-four hours. No complaining, no bad attitude, and no sharp mouth."

Yimei’s mouth dropped open in disbelief. "A whole day?! You’re taking advantage of me!"

"Take it or leave it, First Young Madame," Zhengyu said smoothly, leaning back into his chair with a smug smile and crossing his arms. "Otherwise, I stay right here."

Yimei’s eyes narrowed as she stared at the maddening man in front of her. A whole day of doing whatever this sneaky tyrant wanted? It was absolute craziness.

But...

She pictured the sheer shock and horror on Madame Zhang, Madame Liu, and An Yulan’s faces when the "weak, hidden" First Young Master rolled into the Minister’s estate in all his noble glory, completely crushing their rumors in one second.

The victory was just too sweet to pass up.

"Deal," Yimei said through gritted teeth, a dangerous fire lighting up her eyes as she stood up and smoothed down her sleeves. "One full day. But only after we completely ruin our toxic relatives tomorrow."

Zhengyu let out a low laugh, reaching out to pick up his bowl of dark medicine. He drank the bitter liquid in one smooth gulp without even flinching, setting the empty bowl down on the tray.

"It’s a promise, then," Zhengyu said, his dark eyes shining under the moonlight. "Have my formal robes ready for dawn, wife. Tomorrow is going to be very fun."

She rolled her eyes and stood up to leave.