Chapter 2: Him, a Male Lead?

That finally set Yu Chenxue off. She pointed a finger at his nose and snapped, “Is money all you ever think about? What business is it of yours how much I give you? I’ll give you whatever I please! You’re a servant. Why are you asking so many questions? Come with me!”

She turned and marched away without giving Chen Yanfan another chance to bargain, every inch the imperious young mistress.

Inside, though, her heart was pounding.

What was she afraid of? Yu Chenxue clenched her teeth and walked faster. If she was going to die either way, she might as well enjoy herself first.

She had seen it clearly in her dream. One day, this man would overturn mountains and rivers with a flick of his fingers, and even fate would yield to him. Yet she, Yu Chenxue, would still die under a single blow from his palm. Her ending was already set in the book.

So why should she grovel?

Was she supposed to fall to her knees, cling to his leg, and say, “Master Chen, I was wrong. I’ll never bully you again. Please don’t kill me”?

In all her eighteen years, Yu Chenxue had never bowed her head to anyone. Besides, the things in that dream were things she would do. She hadn’t done them yet!

She didn’t even know what the sword called Wuyan looked like. Why should a stupid dream scare her half to death?

And he was supposed to be the male lead? Was he even worthy of the title?

The more Yu Chenxue thought about it, the angrier she became. What kind of male lead haggled endlessly over a few copper coins in wages? What kind spent every day wondering whether the kitchen had saved him extra meat for dinner?

The dream had to be false!

She must have had such an absurd nightmare because she hated this stingy man so much in waking life. What she thought about by day had followed her into sleep.

Yes. That had to be it.

Having thoroughly bolstered her own courage, Yu Chenxue strode on with growing confidence. She refused to be some fawning sycophant, currying the male lead’s favor. Nor would she tremble in fear while she waited for him to kill her.

She was going to—

Her steps faltered, and the tips of her ears grew warm.

She was going to sleep with the man first.

In the dream, he’d killed her so decisively, shattering her skull with one blow without even blinking. What gave him the right? So what if she’d bullied him? She hadn’t even bullied him enough yet!

If the book said she wouldn’t live past chapter ten, then she would enjoy those ten chapters to the fullest.

Chen Yanfan trailed behind her at a leisurely pace, muttering under his breath. “She still has to pay me… Double means two lots of wages: one for chopping wood, one for following her. We need to settle the figures. I’ll still have to chop that wood when I get back, and Old Song will surely scold me. I hope she gives me more, or this trip won’t be worth it.”

He glanced up at Yu Chenxue’s back. Something seemed a little off about the young mistress today.

Usually, when she came looking for trouble, she would complain that he hadn’t swept the floor properly, or that he ate too loudly, or that the way he walked annoyed her. She could always find a reason to scold him, and once she was done, she’d leave.

Today, she’d stood there watching him for ages. Her face had been white as paper, and there was something odd about the way she looked at him.

And she’d actually offered him money?

She’d never even mentioned money before. The young mistress had always bullied people as though it were her right. When had she ever offered to pay?

Chen Yanfan frowned as a possibility occurred to him. Was she going to make him do some particularly troublesome job? Last time, she’d made him climb a tree to catch a cat; the time before, she’d sent him into a pond to retrieve an earring she’d dropped.

Oh well. At worst, it would be another wasted trip. With his current cultivation, catching a cat or fishing out an earring was nothing. He could overturn the whole Yu Estate without breaking a sweat.

He just couldn’t be bothered with the fuss…

They passed through two covered corridors and went around a rockery and a waterside pavilion. Yu Chenxue stopped at a door and pushed it open.

Chen Yanfan followed her over the threshold. When he looked up, he saw it was his room.

The Yu Estate’s servants lived in the western side courtyard, in a row of small, bare rooms. His was especially sparse: a wooden plank bed, an old table, and a few changes of clothes piled in the corner. He didn’t even have a decent cupboard.

Before he could work out why the young mistress had come to his room, Yu Chenxue reached back and shut the door.

The latch clicked into place, and the room grew a little dimmer.

At last, Chen Yanfan sensed that something was wrong.

He stood where he was, looking from the closed door to Yu Chenxue, who stood straight before him. The young mistress wore her usual haughty expression, chin tilted slightly upward, but the tips of her ears were bright red.

“Young Mistress,” he said cautiously, choosing his words. “Why have you brought me back to my room?”

Yu Chenxue didn’t answer.

She took a deep breath and replayed the moment Chen Yanfan had killed her in the dream: a single blow that shattered her skull, swift and clean, without leaving her a word to say.

Fine. You’re ruthless, you’re powerful, you’re the chosen son of fate in that book.

But right now you’re still chopping firewood in my courtyard!

Yu Chenxue raised her hand and undid the first knot button at her collar. Her fingers trembled a little, but her expression was stubborn. She had made up her mind to stake everything on this.

Chen Yanfan’s pupils contracted slightly.