Yimei stood perfectly still under the high wooden beams, her left cheek burning with a sharp, throbbing heat. She did not reach up to touch her skin, nor did she lower her eyes. She simply looked at Madame Bai with an absolute, freezing calm.
"I gave Grandmother no reason, Mother," Yimei said, her voice smooth, low, and completely steady. "The Second Branch was already bleeding my husband dry while you looked the other way. Would you have preferred I stay quiet, let them starve Zhengyu for another three years, and allow Second Aunt to laugh behind your back forever?"
Madame Bai’s jaw tightened, her chest heaving as her furious glare clashed against Yimei’s unyielding eyes.
"I am the mistress of the First Branch!" Madame Bai hissed, stepping closer, her gold finger-guards glinting in the morning light. "I do not need a concubine’s daughter to teach me how to manage my affairs! You used my name, you used my son’s condition, and you made me look like an incompetent fool in front of the entire household!"
"If you felt humiliated today, Mother, it is because Second Aunt made a fool out of you for three years, not because I spoke the truth," Yimei replied, her dark eyes glittering with sharp intelligence. "Today, you lost a bit of face before Grandmother. But in return, your son received twenty piculs of top-grade coal, fifty silver taels, six senior maids, and the Second Branch’s stolen funds returned directly to his hands."
Yimei took a small, deliberate step forward, meeting Madame Bai’s trembling rage head-on.
"I did not take a single copper coin for myself," Yimei continued softly, her tone carrying unquestionable weight. "I took back what belongs to your son. If holding onto your pride is more important to you than my husband’s life, then hit me again. But do not pretend I harmed the First Branch today."
Madame Bai raised her hand again, her face flushed with dark, suffocating pride. Her palm hovered in the air, trembling violently.
She looked at Yimei’s swollen, reddened cheek, then looked into her dark, fearless eyes. There was no fear in this girl. No tears, no trembling, no begging for mercy. She stood like a steel blade anchored in stone.
Slowly, Madame Bai’s hand dropped back to her side. Her breathing gradually leveled out, though her eyes remained cold as ice.
"You have a sharp tongue and a dangerous mind," Madame Bai said coldly, turning her back on Yimei. "Do not think that winning Old Madame’s favor today makes you the master of this house. In this Manor, favor comes and goes like the wind. If you step out of line or cause trouble for Zhengyu, I will personally strip you of everything."
"Daughter-in-law remembers Mother’s words," Yimei replied, giving a polite, flawless bow as if the slap had never happened.
Madame Bai straightened her heavy silk sleeves, held her head high, and swept out of the dining hall without looking back once.
The moment Madame Bai’s shadow vanished past the courtyard gates, Qinqin rushed forward, tears pouring down her cheeks.
"Miss! Oh, Miss!" Qinqin whimpered, her hands shaking as she pulled out a clean handkerchief to gently touch Yimei’s swollen cheek. "Her hands were so heavy! Look at your face! You fought so hard to get their rights back, and she slaps you for it?!"
"Hold your tears, Qinqin," Yimei said calmly, gently catching Qinqin’s wrist to stop her shaking. "Crying changes nothing. Madame Bai hit me because she was humiliated and powerless. People only strike out when they know they have lost control."
Yimei turned and walked with smooth, graceful steps out of the empty dining hall. The cold wind outside rushed against her face, cooling the sharp sting on her skin.
As they walked down the long, quiet corridor toward the Northern Courtyard, Xiao Lan—the young maid—hurried over from the main gate, bowing low.
"Young Madame," Xiao Lan reported in a hushed, respectful voice. "The stewards from the main treasury have already arrived at our courtyard! They brought twenty piculs of smokeless coal, fifty silver taels, and six senior maids assigned directly by Old Madame. They are waiting for your orders."
"Good," Yimei said, her expression entirely unbothered. "Tell them to set the coal in the main storehouse and let the new maids line up in the yard."
When Yimei stepped through the wooden archway of the Northern Courtyard, the once dark and silent yard was now filled with activity. Main-estate workers were carrying heavy brass heating stoves into the rooms, while the six new, neatly dressed senior maids stood in a straight line, bowing low as Yimei entered.
From the window of the main chamber, a pair of dark, sharp eyes watched everything.
Bai Zhengyu sat in his wooden wheelchair behind the thin paper window, resting his chin on his hand. His head guard, Feng, stood beside him, reporting the news from the dining hall in a low, solemn voice.
"...Madame Bai was furious that the Young Madame exposed the accounting records to Old Madame," Feng whispered, lowering his head. "When everyone left... Madame Bai slapped the Young Madame across the face."
Zhengyu’s slender fingers tightened slightly against the dark wood of his wheelchair. His pale, carved face remained expressionless, but a cold, dark spark flickered deep within his eyes.
"She took the slap?" Zhengyu asked, his voice low and flat.
"She did, Young Master," Feng replied, a trace of genuine respect in his tone. "She did not cry, nor did she complain. She walked back to our courtyard immediately and began directing the new servants."
Zhengyu looked through the gap in the wooden shutter. Outside, An Yimei stood under the porch, her left cheek visibly red and swollen against her pale skin. Yet her back was straight, her chin held high, and her quiet, sharp authority commanded every worker in the yard.
She had taken a strike from his own mother, and dismantled his enemies’ traps all without making a single demand from him.
Zhengyu stared at her red cheek for a long moment. The heavy, paranoid wall of ice around his heart did not shatter, but a deep, sharp crack opened quietly down its center.