Chapter 3: Demonic Winds Rise Everywhere

Time flew by, and in the blink of an eye, a month had passed. Tang Zhao looked at the [Life Points: 14] on her system interface with a worried expression.

"Young Mistress, do not fret. The Young Master treats you well," Chunfeng said, handing her tea to comfort her.

"Indeed. No matter how those two cheap sluts, Feicui and Shanhulu, try to seduce him, aren't they still unable to get anywhere near the Young Master?" Qiuyu sneered.

Tang Zhao took a sip of tea. Their lines of thinking were not on the same wavelength at all.

As they spoke, a stern-faced Nanny entered and said urgently, "Young Mistress, those two little sluts have gone to the study."

Oh? Tang Zhao’s eyes lit up. Was this the start of their big move?

Tang Zhao turned and pushed open the window behind her, shivering as the cold wind blew in.

"It’s almost winter; this wind is biting," Nanny Song said, stepping forward to close the window. "Young Mistress, your health is already delicate. What will you do if the cold wind enters your body and you catch a chill?"

Tang Zhao stopped her, lifting her chin slightly to signal them.

The four of them—mistress and maids—looked through the window, seeing the scene at the entrance of the study next door clearly.

In the weather of the tenth month, the two maids, dressed in bright red and emerald green gauze, stood before the door, shivering from the cold.

"Serves them right! Daring to walk around in summer clothes in this weather—they deserve to get sick!" Qiuyu felt vindicated.

"If they catch a cold, they’ll end up dragging the Young Mistress into spending silver on their medical bills," Chunfeng frowned. As the keeper of the Young Mistress’s purse, she had to ensure every copper was spent wisely; it couldn't be wasted on someone else's dogs.

Seeing the Young Mistress’s calm, smiling expression, Nanny Song’s anxious heart gradually settled, and she continued to watch.

A black-clad guard stood at the study door. "This is a restricted area. No one is allowed to enter without the Young Master’s permission!"

Shanhulu curtsied. "Big Brother Guard, I am a maid from the Young Mistress’s maiden home. I am here on her orders to bring the Young Master some soup to warm him up," she said, lifting the food box.

Feicui stood to the side, not to be outdone. "The Young Mistress also ordered me to prepare a fox-fur cloak and instructed me to deliver it to the Young Master personally."

"Wait here," the guard said, turning to enter the room to report. He returned shortly after. "The Young Master will not see you. You two may leave."

Shanhulu blinked, her cheeks and eyes red—whether from shame or the cold, it was hard to tell. "Big Brother Guard, please make an exception. If the Young Mistress finds out we didn't complete our task, she will punish us."

Feicui slipped a small silver nugget toward him. "Big Brother Guard, please help us out."

The guard had been by his master’s side for over a decade and had lost count of how many times he had been bribed with beauty and money. He immediately drew the saber at his waist and, with a dark face, drove them away. "If you don't leave now, my blade has no eyes."

The heavy sword, which had taken countless lives, reflected a cold, sharp light in the sun, shining directly onto the faces of the two women.

"Ah!" Shanhulu and Feicui shrieked. The keen intuition they had developed growing up in a noble household told them that if they didn't leave, the black-faced guard would surely strike them down in the next second. They scrambled away in a panic.

Nanny An was sitting on the bed eating osmanthus cake. Seeing Shanhulu and Feicui return in a panic, she knew they had failed. She sneered, "And here I thought you two were so capable. To think you’re just pretty faces with no substance. With such pathetic methods, you dared to volunteer for this task in front of the Madam? If you’ve ruined the Madam’s plans, don't blame me for skinning you alive!"

Shanhulu’s face turned from blue to white. She said aggrievedly, "It’s not that we weren't diligent, Nanny. Even if I had a thousand schemes, if I can't even see the Young Master, those schemes are useless."

Feicui, thinking of the constant rejection over the past month, was unwilling to give up. She knelt on the ground and kowtowed. "Please, Nanny, help us!"

Shanhulu quickly knelt and kowtowed as well.

Nanny An waited until she had put on enough airs before letting them rise. "We are all working for the Madam; helping you is helping myself. Just remember, when you have a bright future, don't forget who set you on the path to success!"

Shanhulu and Feicui quickly pledged their loyalty. "We will surely follow the Madam’s lead in everything."

Nanny An smiled happily.

In the main courtyard, Qiuyu was gloating, unable to hide her joy. "It’s truly satisfying. Watching those two little sluts run away in such a sorry state makes me feel wonderful."

Chunfeng finished shelling the last of the melon seeds and piled them into a large bowl on the table. "I’ve been watching them coldly. Shanhulu and Feicui are just for show—they have pretty faces but no brains. They aren't worth fearing." She refilled the teacup, the aroma of the Snow-Top Hancui tea drifting through the air. "However, Nanny An is meticulous; we must be on guard against her."

Tang Zhao grabbed a handful of melon seeds and popped them into her mouth. They were fragrant and delicious. She praised, "Chunfeng, your skills are excellent. These spiced melon seeds taste authentic."

"It was the Young Mistress’s guidance. I never would have thought to stir-fry melon seeds with seasonings."

Chunfeng wasn't just flattering her. The Great Yu had abundant ingredients, but very few spices, which was why the food usually looked good but lacked depth of flavor.

Nanny Song sat to the side, flipping through account books with her left hand and clicking an abacus with her right. She quickly finished auditing the books that had arrived yesterday. "Young Mistress, there are no issues on the surface of the accounts. It’s clear they were carefully doctored before being sent over."

This month, besides eating, drinking, and sleeping, the most important thing Tang Zhao had done was find time to meet the stewards and managers of the fields and shops that came with her dowry from the Duke of Wei’s estate.

And, incidentally, collect rent.

According to custom, the Duke of Wei’s estate had provided five hundred acres of paddy fields, one thousand acres of dry land, and five shops. It just so happened to be the end of the year, the time for annual reports.

Every time Tang Zhao met a steward, she received piles of silver. How could she not love this activity?

It was just that these stewards were becoming increasingly brazen; the money and grain they brought in grew less with each passing year.

With so many dowry fields and shops, the annual profit was less than a thousand taels!

They were treating her like a fool!

Tang Zhao, who was being treated like a fool, was naturally unhappy. But then she thought, she hadn't done anything and still walked away with 834 taels of silver, so she felt she had made a profit.

Oh well, let it be. She would wait until she met the last steward today and see how he tried to fool her.

"Has the shopkeeper of the Cloth Shop not arrived yet?" Tang Zhao swallowed the seeds and took a sip of tea to cleanse her palate.

"I’ll go ask," Chunfeng said. Just as she reached the door, she saw Nanny An leading a decently dressed middle-aged man toward them. She turned back to report, "Young Mistress, Nanny An is bringing the shopkeeper here."

As soon as she finished speaking, a rough voice rang out, "This humble one, Zhao Sheng, shopkeeper of the Cloth Shop, requests an audience with the Eldest Young Mistress."

"Let them in."

Nanny Song went out to lead them in. She saw a middle-aged man in decent clothes following Nanny An. "Young Mistress, Shopkeeper Zhao of the Cloth Shop is here to pay his respects."

As soon as she spoke, the middle-aged man lowered his head, hurried forward two steps, and threw himself onto his knees, prostrating himself. "This humble one, Zhao Sheng, shopkeeper of the Cloth Shop, pays his respects to the Eldest Young Mistress."

"Please, Eldest Young Mistress, save the Cloth Shop! Save the eighteen workers at the Cloth Shop!"

His voice was shrill and filled with extreme misery.

It was enough to make one want to roll up their sleeves and give him a sound beating.