Chapter 3: Mistreating the Servants

He looked at the button she’d undone, then at her face. His mind raced. What was going on? Had the young mistress taken the wrong medicine? Was she testing him? Or was this someone sent by an enemy, pretending to be her? No, that infuriating expression was definitely hers.

“What are you standing there for?” Yu Chenxue raised her chin, trying to sound as commanding as ever. “Take off your clothes!”

Chen Yanfan was silent for a moment. Then he said seriously, “Young Mistress, that costs extra.”

Yu Chenxue stared at him. She had imagined he might refuse, fall to his knees and beg for mercy, or throw her out with a dark look on his face. She had never imagined his first response would be to name a price!

“You…” She opened her mouth, at a loss for words. “What did you say?”

“I said that costs extra.” Chen Yanfan’s expression didn’t change. His hands still hung properly at his sides. “This is different from chopping wood and my usual work. It’s a separate job, so naturally it needs a separate price.”

He looked perfectly at ease, as if there were nothing at all odd about what he’d said.

Yu Chenxue could feel the last threads of her composure snapping, one by one.

In her dream, Chen Yanfan could shatter mountains and rivers with a flick of his fingers and cleave the sky with his sword. Fate itself bowed before him, and his bearing and handsome face went without saying. Yet here he was in a shabby room, wood chips still clinging to his clothes, discussing rates with her.

How could they possibly be the same person?

That dream was definitely false!

“You… calculate it however you like.” Yu Chenxue flushed, her voice rising. “Just take them off!”

“All right.” Chen Yanfan began undoing his buttons at a leisurely pace.

He really was slow, fumbling with each one for ages. His expression suggested that this job was a nuisance, but for the money, he would reluctantly put up with it.

Yu Chenxue waited three breaths. He hadn’t undone a single button.

Her patience ran out.

Her temper flared, and she abandoned all thought of modesty. She took two steps forward, seized the front of his robe, and pulled it apart.

Rrrip!

The sound of tearing cloth rang through the quiet room.

Yu Chenxue stared at the scrap in her hand, then at the tear running down Chen Yanfan’s chest from collar to hem. She froze.

Why had it ripped so easily? Had she somehow gained magical powers? No, even if the dream was real, the book hadn’t said she had any.

Was the cloth simply that poor? It felt rough, but surely it shouldn’t tear from one pull. Wait… Had the estate issued these clothes to its servants? Was the quality really so bad?

Her thoughts went round in circles before arriving at a ridiculous conclusion: had her family been mistreating its servants all along?

Chen Yanfan looked down at his robe, now split in two, and his mouth twitched.

“Hey, hey…” He pulled the torn edges together, looking pained. “Young Mistress, you’ll have to pay for this. It’s the only decent set of clothes I have. What am I supposed to wear tomorrow now you’ve torn it? I can’t chop wood bare-chested. Old Song will scold me again if he sees.”

“Be quiet!”

His nagging made Yu Chenxue’s head ache. She shoved him onto the creaking plank bed and followed him down.

“I’ll pay you back ten sets! A hundred! From now on, you’re not allowed to say another word!”