Chapter 4: My Face Hurts a Little

The bridal chamber in Ming Song Hall had been utterly destroyed by black-clad assassins on Song Huan’s wedding day. The unconscious Song Huan had been moved to the Huichun  Courtyard to recover.

But today, Pei Yan had kicked the door of her chamber in the Huichun Courtyard into splinters…

Song Huan was a patient, and it was the dead of winter. With the biting wind howling outside, she certainly wasn’t about to risk her health by spending the night in a drafty room.

Though Pei Yan hadn’t shown her much kindness, it seemed he wasn’t petty enough to make life difficult for a mere woman. At least for now, he hadn’t locked her in a dilapidated woodshed, forcing her to survive on scraps and fend for herself.

After he left, the Marquis Manor’s steward—a plump, round-faced old man in his fifties or sixties—quickly arrived with servants to clean up the mess. Carpenters were already measuring the doorframe for a new one, while the steward discussed with Jin Yue which courtyard Song Huan should be moved to.

Despite the Marquis Manor’s vast grounds and numerous courtyards, years of neglect had left many in disrepair. For a time, they couldn’t find a clean, tidy, and suitable place for Song Huan to rest for the night.

Jin Yue and the steward deliberated for nearly half an hour but couldn’t reach a satisfactory conclusion.

Song Huan sat cross-legged on the bed, her neck stiff, clutching the small quilt tightly around her. The biting wind had been blowing into the room for some time. The choking incense smell had dissipated, but so had the warmth.

She beckoned Jin Le over.

“Madam, do you have any instructions?” Jin Le asked, her teeth chattering as she stood guard beside the bed, body stiff with cold.

Song Huan extended her hand and mimed writing.

“You want paper and a brush?” Jin Le asked.

Song Huan quickly tucked her hand back under the quilt, hugging the hand warmer tightly. She nodded demurely, careful not to move her stiff neck.

Jin Le hurried out to tell Jin Yue, “Sister, Madam wants paper and a brush.”

The Huichun Courtyard had a small study with writing supplies. After a moment’s thought, Jin Yue stepped past the screen and approached Song Huan. “Perhaps Madam would be kind enough to accompany this servant to the study? It’s somewhat warmer there.”

Song Huan nodded demurely, lifting her chin slightly. At least it’s not drafty.

Jin Yue immediately summoned a servant and instructed him to carry the warm stove to the study.

Song Huan rose, slipped into her shoes, reluctantly set aside the small blanket wrapped around her, and draped a cool cloak over her shoulders. Supported by Jin Yue, she slowly made her way to the study.

No choice. My legs have gone numb from sitting cross-legged for so long!

Her steps were painfully slow. From the bedroom, the study was just around the corridor, but the short distance took nearly fifteen minutes. Her feet grew increasingly stiff, and the biting wind stung her face.

As she entered the study, the gentle warmth seeped into her pores, causing her body to tremble slightly. The warmth spread through her, bringing a sense of blissful comfort. Even her complexion regained a healthy flush.

In the center of the room stood a man-sized bronze stove, its surface carved with elaborate patterns. Inside burned priceless silver charcoal, smokeless and faintly fragrant.

Song Huan gazed at the bronze stove, her eyes gleaming. That faint, almost imperceptible aroma in the air… it was the scent of gold!

Jin Yue helped her to a couch beside a low table. A yellowed book lay atop it.

After Song Huan settled down, Jin Yue said, “Fortunately, the Huichun Courtyard  has been regularly cleaned, and the study frequently aired. The room doesn’t smell musty. Madam, please rest here a while. I’ll go grind the ink.”

“Hmm,” Song Huan replied with a soft nod.

As Jin Yue moved to the other side of the room, Song Huan began examining the study. It was only half the size of the bedroom but had a simple, elegant layout. The door sat at the center, dividing the room into eastern and western halves.

Song Huan sat on the dimly lit eastern side, facing west. The desk on the western side stood against the south wall by a window. The last rays of the setting sun streamed through, illuminating the western half. Two windows there stood open, while none near her couch did.

The entire study seemed split between light and shadow.

She began to deduce things from the context of My Husband Wields Supreme Power. The Pei family had a sparse lineage—Pei Yan had no siblings. If she remembered right, the only other family member was his deranged stepmother, locked away in a remote courtyard.

The novel mentioned that before his death, Pei Yan’s father instructed him to move into Ming Song Hall. Since the Returning Spring Courtyard was one of only two places in the estate kept in good repair—along with Ming Song Hall—it likely had been Pei Yan’s childhood residence.

“Madam, the ink is ready!” Jin Le’s cheerful voice pierced Song Huan’s thoughts.

The girl was young, lively, and couldn’t sit still. Song Huan had noticed her constantly glancing toward Jin Yue, her delicate face full of the struggle between “I want to play, but I shouldn’t.”

So adorable. Utterly irresistible.

If she could speak, she’d have told the girl to go play long ago.

Smiling, Song Huan stood and walked to the desk.

As the light shifted from dim to bright, her gaze was drawn outside the window—where the steward was talking to a young man by the courtyard gate.

Song Huan’s eyelid twitched, a sense of unease creeping over her.

“System, do you have any tools for predicting danger?”

System: [“Yes, dear.”] 

“Oh, you’re responding quickly. I thought you’d disconnected again.”

System: [“Darling, don’t tease me~”] 

Song Huan: “……”

This disgustingly sweet voice—was the broken system retaliating?

“Just type properly. Don’t make me hit you.”

System: [“Darling host, I recommend the ‘Lifetime Danger Event Warning’ package.”] 

“How much?”

System: [“Ten years of life points, host.”] 

“…Any other options?”

System: [“We also offer a ‘Single-Use Danger Event Warning’ voucher.”] 

“How much for one use?”

[“One day of life points, valid for today only.”] 

She glanced at the man outside, holding a sword with a pitch-black scabbard. One day was manageable.

Gritting her teeth, she confirmed the purchase.

[Ding—Danger detected within a one-kilometer radius.]

[View details? Yes or No]

“Yes.”

[Danger Source: Pei Yan, target of your conquest.
Reason: Favorability toward you is negative; threat level high.
Solution: Increase Pei Yan’s favorability as soon as possible… Beep.]

The system abruptly went silent.

Expressionless, Song Huan blocked it. Enough. Peace at last.

I must have lost my mind to believe that broken system.

Jin Yue, noticing her dazed gaze out the window, followed it and saw Steward Pei speaking with Pei Chen. She gently said, “That man is Guard Pei. He’s served the Marquis since childhood. Perhaps the Marquis sent him with a message. Should I go speak with him, Madam?”

Snapping out of her thoughts, Song Huan panicked. No, thank you!

That bastard had just thrown her to the ground! Even if her favorability rose slightly, it was still negative!

She quickly dipped her brush and wrote a large “No.”

No way! I’m not going to a drafty woodshed!

Jin Yue, unaware of her inner turmoil, simply replied, “Understood.”

“Madam, did you need paper and ink for something?”

Song Huan picked up the brush again, then froze. Damn! Did the original Song Huan even know how to write?

Even if she did, their handwriting would be different!

Staring at the bold black “No,” her face burned.

All she wanted was to sit somewhere warmer…

After a long pause, she steeled herself and wrote: “Spending the night in the study.”

Whatever. When the boat reaches the bridge, it’ll straighten itself out.

The study was warm. The door would be fixed tomorrow anyway. And maybe, just maybe, she could uncover a few of Pei Yan’s secrets here.

Jin Yue looked troubled. “Madam wishes to stay in the study? I’m afraid it won’t be comfortable.”

There was only one chaise longue in the study. It was fine for short naps, but sleeping the whole night on it would be exhausting—especially since Madam was still injured.

Song Huan wrote: “It’s fine.”

She’d slept on worse. Besides, if this really had been Pei Yan’s room, there could be some juicy clues lying around…

Author’s Note:

Song Huan: The system is shameless.
System: … (Can’t hear you, I’m offline.)