A live-in son-in-law?
The moment Lin Wan heard those four words, she almost threw the spatula in her hand.
Aunt Li’s way of thinking was truly one of a kind.
Xiao Junmo, who was in the courtyard, also froze for a moment, the corners of his mouth twitching uncontrollably.
He was the heir to the Prince of Zhenbei, yet someone had mistaken him for a man who married into his wife’s family.
If word of this ever reached his colleagues in the capital, they would laugh their teeth out.
“Aunt Li, you’ve really gone too far with that joke.”
Lin Wan’s face darkened as she immediately shot back.
“He’s my distant cousin. His family was struck by disaster, so he came here to seek refuge. If you keep spreading rumors and ruin his reputation, I won’t let it slide.”
She lied so naturally that she didn’t even blink, instantly establishing their relationship.
The moment Aunt Li heard he was her distant cousin, most of the gossip in her eyes faded.
“Oh my, so he’s your cousin. No wonder he’s such a handsome young man.”
She smiled awkwardly and held out the bamboo basket she was carrying.
“I saw how hard you’ve been working on the house, so I brought a few eggs from my hens to help you recover.”
People who suddenly become overly friendly usually have an ulterior motive.
Lin Wan glanced at the eggs in the basket but didn’t even reach out.
“Aunt Li, just say what you came for. I’ve still got food cooking.”
Aunt Li rubbed her hands awkwardly and leaned in, lowering her voice.
“Lin Wan, I wanted to ask… are you still hiring workers for the house?”
“My husband and your Brother Gouzi are both strong. Thirty copper coins a day and one meal with meat is enough.”
So that was what she was after.
Lin Wan sneered inwardly.
Li Gouzi was the village’s most notorious loafer. He was lazy, loved free meals, and constantly stole chickens and committed petty theft.
If he came to the construction site, it would be a miracle if he didn’t cause trouble, let alone do any work.
“Aunt Li, what unfortunate timing.”
Lin Wan refused without hesitation.
“I’ve already hired enough workers. I don’t need anyone else for now.”
“Ah… well…”
Aunt Li wanted to keep persuading her, but Lin Wan had already turned around and walked back into the kitchen.
Bang!
The woodshed door slammed shut.
After being turned away, Aunt Li glared fiercely at the broken door, muttered curses under her breath, and left carrying her basket.
…
After dinner…
Lin Yulong was exhausted from the day’s work. He crawled into his new cotton quilt early and soon began snoring.
Lin Wan sat in the courtyard beneath the cool moonlight, reviewing the day’s construction expenses.
Bricks, lime, timber, and the workers’ wages.
The fifty taels of silver she had earned were flowing away like water.
At this rate, by the time the house was finished, she would nearly be broke again.
“I need to find another way to make money as soon as possible.”
Lin Wan bit the end of her brush, her brows slightly furrowed as her mind raced.
Suddenly, a steaming bowl of hot water was gently placed beside her.
She looked up.
At some point, Xiao Junmo had quietly come over and was now standing beside her, holding a rough ceramic bowl.
“The nights are cold. Drink some hot water to warm yourself.”
His voice was soft, low, and slightly hoarse. In the stillness of the night, it carried an oddly comforting warmth.
Lin Wan looked at the bowl, then at him.
Years of living as an assassin made her instinctively cautious. She didn’t reach for it immediately.
“People don’t show kindness without a reason.”
She raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile in her eyes.
“Go on. Are you planning to stay here for a few more days?”
Xiao Junmo chuckled softly without taking offense.
He casually sat down on the small wooden stool across from her.
“Miss Lin is truly perceptive. I do have an unreasonable request.”
His long fingers gently traced the rough rim of the bowl.
“My injuries still require a period of rest. During that time, I’d like to help you with various chores as payment for my lodging and meals.”
“Chores? Like what?”
Lin Wan looked at him with interest.
“For example… helping you review your account books.”
Xiao Junmo pointed toward the ledger on the table.
“I used to help manage household accounts at home. I’m fairly good with numbers.”
He said it as though it were nothing.
But Lin Wan immediately caught the flaw in his story.
A man who knew mechanical traps, possessed exceptional martial skills, and was covered in battle scars had also managed household accounts?
That lie wasn’t very convincing.
“Oh? Really?”
Lin Wan folded her arms and leaned forward slightly, her sharp black eyes fixed on him.
“Then tell me, Young Master Xiao… what kind of accounts did you manage?”
“Were they household expenses worth a few hundred taels…”
“…or the distribution and transport of hundreds of thousands of shi of military grain?”
The moment those words left her mouth, the air froze.
Xiao Junmo’s fingers abruptly stopped moving along the rim of the bowl.
He slowly raised his head.
His deep, unfathomable eyes instantly turned razor-sharp, like two unsheathed blades.
What terrifying insight this woman has.
From just a few scars and a handful of casual remarks, she had nearly uncovered his true identity.
He neither admitted nor denied it.
Instead, he met her gaze directly, a faint, meaningful smile appearing on his lips.
“Miss Lin must be joking. I’m nothing more than a merchant who has fallen on hard times. How would I know anything about military grain?”
With a few simple words, he skillfully avoided the dangerous subject and turned the tables.
“But you…”
Xiao Junmo leaned in slightly, lowering his voice.
“A farm girl from a remote mountain village who can’t even read…”
“…yet you know how to keep account books and design defensive layouts for building a house.”
“Your agile fighting skills and your decisive, ruthless nature…”
He paused, his eyes growing even deeper.
“Miss Lin… I suspect your past is even more extraordinary than mine.”
The two of them sat across the old wooden table, staring directly into each other’s eyes.
Invisible sparks seemed to crackle between them.
Both were testing the other.
Both remained guarded.
Neither was willing to reveal their true hand first.
After a long silence, Lin Wan suddenly smiled.
She picked up the bowl of water, now pleasantly warm, and took a sip.
“Everyone has their own secrets.”
She set the bowl down and looked at the cold moon overhead.
“I won’t ask about your past, and you won’t dig into mine.”
“We’re strangers who happened to cross paths. We each get what we need and stay out of each other’s business.”
“When the house is finished and your injuries are healed, we’ll go our separate ways.”
Xiao Junmo looked at her determined profile, a complicated emotion flashing across his eyes.
This woman was like a hedgehog covered in sharp quills, wrapping herself up so tightly that no one could get close.
She refused to rely on anyone, and she wouldn’t let anyone rely on her.
For the first time, he became genuinely curious.
What kind of life had a sixteen-year-old girl lived to forge such a cold, proud, and unyielding soul?
“Very well. It’s a deal.”
Xiao Junmo nodded and asked no further questions.
He stood up, walked into the courtyard, picked up a wooden plank, and quietly began carving wooden spikes.
His movements were gentle, careful not to wake Lin Yulong, who was sleeping inside.
Lin Wan watched his back, her hand tightening slightly around the bowl.
In this cold and chaotic feudal world…
She had grown used to facing every storm alone.
She had grown used to solving every problem with her fists and her blade.
Across both her past and present lives, she had never experienced what it meant to be cared for or respected.
Yet this mysterious man…
The quiet gentleness with which he had offered her hot water…
And the sight of him silently working in the courtyard…
Were like a drop of warm water falling into her dry, frozen heart.
For the first time, her heart—hard as iron—stirred ever so slightly.
“This feeling… is seriously messed up.”
Lin Wan muttered a curse under her breath, quickly smothering the dangerous emotion before it could grow.
An assassin had no use for feelings.
The night grew darker, and the cold deepened.
Lin Wan put away the account book and returned to her room.
The room was nothing more than a tiny space partitioned off in one corner of the ruined temple with a few pieces of tattered cloth.
It was pitifully simple.
Still wearing her clothes, she lay down on the bed of dried straw.
She had just closed her eyes, preparing to rest.
Suddenly—
Ding!
A crisp notification sounded inside her mind.
Immediately afterward, the chatty little steward spoke in an excited voice that trembled uncontrollably.
“Master! Quick! Get into the space!”
“The Spirit Spring… the Spirit Spring has mutated!”