Night came quietly over the Bai Manor. Dark winter clouds covered the sky, and cold, light snow began to fall over the high roof tiles.
Inside the Northern Courtyard, the golden light from the new oil lanterns reflected softly off the ground. The courtyard no longer felt as cold and lifeless as it had the previous day.
An Yimei walked down the covered stone corridor toward the main chamber. She wore a thick wool cloak and carried a warm brass hand-warmer. In her other hand, she held her leather notebook and a writing brush.
She stood before Zhengyu’s closed wooden doors, raising her hand to knock three times.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Silence answered her from inside.
Yimei did not try to force the door open, nor did she stand out in the open freezing snow like a fool. Instead, she walked over to the covered corridor bench right near his door. The roof overhead kept the snow off her, and the thick wooden pillars blocked the worst of the freezing wind.
She sat down, placing her hot hand-warmer on her lap. She opened her notebook and dipped her brush into the ink.
Beside her, Qinqin pulled her cloak tight, shivering slightly. "Miss, it is getting late. Why are we sitting out in this hallway? Young Master Zhengyu will not open his door tonight."
"We are checking the new night guards and making sure the heating stoves in the outer hall don’t go out," Yimei said calmly, writing down a line of numbers. "Besides, I need to organize my business plans for tomorrow."
"You work too hard, Miss," Qinqin sighed softly. "You worry about this whole courtyard, and you worry about your shops too."
Yimei smiled faintly, her eyes fixed on her notebook. "If I do not make my own money, Qinqin, we will always have to rely on the Bai family’s mercy. I do not like depending on other people."
She was not just doing this to win a system mission. She was doing this to survive. In this world, money was true power.
They sat together in the quiet corridor for a long time. The soft sound of wind filled the yard. Eventually, Qinqin’s head began to nod, and she fell asleep against the wooden pillar.
Yimei kept writing. She calculated worker wages, noted down tea supplier costs, and drew rough sketches of new winter tea blends for her shop. Near the bottom of the page, she added a few routine notes about the courtyard’s daily care.
As midnight approached, the long, exhausting day caught up with her. Her eyelids grew heavy, her brush slipped onto the wooden bench, and her head tilted back against the wall. She drifted into a light sleep.
Inside the dark main chamber, the air was quiet.
Bai Zhengyu sat in his wooden wheelchair near the cold room, his hands resting on his lap. The bitter winter cold always made his injured legs throb with a dull, heavy ache. Sitting for too long made his joints feel stiff and painful, a constant reminder of his crippled state.
He hated being pitied, and he hated feeling weak.
He heard the soft sound of breathing outside his door. Slowly, without making a sound, Zhengyu rolled his wheelchair toward the entrance. He unlatched the heavy wooden door and pulled it open just a few inches.
Through the gap, he saw Yimei sitting on the bench in the covered corridor. She was asleep, her pale face framed by the dark wool of her cloak.
Zhengyu stared at her for a long moment. His dark eyes were cautious, guarded, and filled with quiet confusion.
Why is she still here? What is she trying to gain?
His gaze dropped to the bench beside her. Her open notebook lay near her hand.
Zhengyu reached out his long fingers, quietly picking up the book. He held it in his lap, turning the pages under the dim lantern light.
He expected to see secret letters or schemes. Instead, his sharp eyes scanned neat rows of business numbers:
The Quiet Leaf Tea House — Monthly Rent & Worker Wages
Winter Tea Supply Costs — Dried Honey, Ginger, Plum Blossom
Target Profit Before Winter Ends — 300 Silver Taels
Main Kitchen Meat Quality — Ensure no cold grease is served to Zhengyu
Physician Zhang’s Tonic — Mix with non-bitter honey to ease his leg pain
Zhengyu’s fingers paused on the paper.
Most of the notebook was filled with her own clever financial plans, ideas to make money, and shop budget calculations. She was clearly an ambitious, sharp woman focused on her own independence. Yet, hidden right among her business notes were practical, quiet details about his health and food.
She wasn’t begging for his affection, nor was she treating him like a helpless invalid. She was simply taking care of things in a practical, steady way.
An Yimei... what kind of woman are you?
He closed the notebook gently, placing it back on the bench. Without making a sound, he backed his wheelchair into his room and closed the heavy door.
The next morning, bright sunlight hit the fresh snow.
Yimei woke up in her warm side room, having moved back inside late last night. As she sat up and smoothed her clothes, a soft, mechanical chime rang inside her head:
[SYSTEM 009 UPDATE]
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
[TARGET: BAI ZHENGYU]
[Favorability: -12% ➔ -8%]
[Status: Curious / Reluctantly Observing]
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Yimei stared at the blue screen floating in the air, her mouth twitching slightly.
’Minus eight percent?’ she thought, annoyed. ’I sat in a cold corridor organizing his whole household, and I only got four points back? This man’s heart is made of solid stone.’
[Nine: Host, please be grateful! Moving out of the deep negative numbers is a big victory! Rome wasn’t built in a day!]
’Alright Nine,’ Yimei replied in her mind. ’I have real money to make today.’
She put on a simple, high-collared blue winter coat lined with white fur, laced up her leather boots, and walked out into the courtyard.
Yesterday, Old Madame Bai had given her authority over her own movement as a reward for fixing the estate’s stolen budget. Yimei was not going to waste that freedom sitting around waiting for a stubborn man to open his door.
"Qinqin, grab the account papers," Yimei said, stepping out through the main gates into the crisp morning air. "Last time we only inspected the tea house. Today, we start changing it."