Chapter 18

“No way, right? She really finished all that?”
“Not quite. I think there were still two eggs left.”
“Yeah, but she ate eight buns and two sticky‑rice chickens!”
“Exactly. Those things are so heavy. I’m done after one and some soy milk.”
“But look at her—she’s so thin. Where does it all go?”
“Hey, did you hear? Yesterday morning when she fired that chef in the main house, he wouldn’t accept it, tried to take a swing at her, and she beat him so badly they had to drag him off, blood all over his face.”
“What? Seriously?”
“Dead serious. I heard that guy could lift half a pig with one hand, and she tossed him around like a sandbag.”
“Damn. They say foreigners are weird. Maybe she took too many hormones overseas?”
By mid‑morning, the story of the new butler—superhumanly strong, frighteningly skilled, able to clear eight dozen buns in one sitting—had already begun to spread through the estate.
Xiang Changge knew nothing of this. It was eight o’clock, and according to the schedule, Yu Qing should be up, washed, fed, and on her way to morning tai chi.
Knock, knock, knock—
On the third floor, Yu Qing’s bedroom door rattled under a series of firm taps.
Ten minutes later, Xiang Changge finally asked, “What’s she doing?”
System: “Sleeping with earplugs in.”
Xiang Changge: “…And you’re only mentioning this now?”
Why had it let her knock all this time?
The system sounded aggrieved. “But host‑chan, you didn’t *ask* System‑tongtong.”
Xiang Changge: “……”
Was this system buggy?
The facts were simple: door locked, owner inside, ears plugged. The question was how to get in.
Rubbing thumb and forefinger together, Xiang Changge asked, “What’s Yu Qing’s phone number?”
“…”
A minute later, in the bed where she’d spent a thoroughly restless night, Yu Qing suddenly felt the mattress vibrating beneath her.
Still half asleep, she opened her eyes.
The rims were red, and so were the whites, bloodshot and unfocused. She stared at a random spot for a long time before reaching back under her pillow.
Her fingers closed around a shuddering phone.
An unfamiliar number flashed on the screen.
She stared at it for so long her eyes hurt, then hesitated.
Spam, probably. She really didn’t want to answer.
Talking to people was exhausting. Talking to strangers, even more so.
But what if it was someone who actually needed her?
After a full minute of indecision, as the call timed out and started again, Yu Qing finally picked up.
Two calls in a row. Probably not a sales pitch.
“…Hello?”
Her voice came through low and hoarse with sleep. On the other end, Xiang Changge replied coolly, “Miss, it’s time to get up for breakfast.”
“…Hello? Who is this?”
Xiang Changge: “……”
Was she doing this on purpose?
“It’s me. Xiang Changge. You need to get up now.”
“Say something.”
“I am saying something.”
Frowning, Yu Qing glanced at the phone, hit the speaker button, and tried again. After several “hellos” with no response, she hung up.
“Who calls this early?”
Muttering under her breath, she tossed the phone aside, rolled over, and had just closed her eyes when she felt something pressing against her ear.
Right. She’d gone to bed wearing earplugs to ward off Xiang Changge. No wonder she hadn’t heard a thing.
As she tugged them out, the phone buzzed again.
This time it was a text, from that same number.
“Please remove your earplugs, Miss. It’s time to get up for breakfast.”
Yu Qing: “!”
She stared at the message, eyes going wide. Then, thinking she had to be seeing things, she rubbed them hard and checked again.
Her gaze dropped to her free hand. Two earplugs lay obediently in her palm.
How on earth did Xiang Changge know she was wearing earplugs? Had she installed cameras in here?
Heart pounding, Yu Qing scanned the room for anything out of place.
And how had she gotten her phone number?
As she was flipping her phone into airplane mode, another message popped up.
“You don’t want me to call a locksmith up here, do you?”
Another threat.
Yu Qing had had enough. She flung the phone aside, threw off the blanket, and stormed out of bed, ready to give Xiang Changge a piece of her mind.
She barely got her feet under her when the room spun. Her legs buckled, and she almost went down, only just catching herself on the mattress edge.
Sitting there, black hair tumbling over her shoulders, she bowed her head. After a long moment, a crooked smile twisted her pale lips.
Her body really was hopeless.
Xiang Changge had been waiting another ten‑odd minutes when she finally heard the snick of a lock and saw a bloodless little face appear around the door.
Dressed in a white nightgown, Yu Qing leaned against the jamb. The square neckline bared the sharp hollows of her collarbones; her expression was blank, heavy with gloom. Whether that was from a bad night’s sleep or sheer displeasure at seeing Xiang Changge was anyone’s guess.
Likely both.
After staring at her for a beat, Yu Qing blinked once, said nothing, and turned back into the room.
Xiang Changge followed.
The faint, bitter smell of mugwort filled the air, chilled further by the air‑conditioning. It hit the lungs like mint on ice.
Just as last night, only the two reading lamps were on. The heavy curtains were drawn tight, shutting out every trace of daylight.
Xiang Changge tapped the wall panel, nudging the thermostat higher, then walked to the window and pulled back the blackout curtains, leaving only the sheer gauze. A dim wash of gray‑green morning crept into the room.
When she turned, Yu Qing was back on the bed—not lying down, but propped against the headboard, eyes closed, head tipped back, the back of her skull pressed into the cushion.
Xiang Changge had expected anger. Instead, she found someone who looked beyond reaction—a woman too tired to care what anyone did to her, sunk so deep in her own thoughts that the whole world felt far away.
They faced each other in silence for a long time—one standing, one half‑reclining.
Looking at that frail, lifeless figure, Xiang Changge quietly shoved her more drastic notions—about locking her up if necessary—down to the very bottom of her mind.
If possible, it would be better if she could stay a little angry and alive.
“Let’s make a bet.”
In the still room, Xiang Changge’s soft voice fell like a pebble into a pond.
Yu Qing opened her eyes slowly. Those cold, dark irises settled on her.
Today Xiang Changge wore a white shirt, conservative in cut, sleeves rolled to the forearms. A silver watch glinted on her pale wrist, adding to the professional air.
Then Yu Qing’s gaze dropped to the odd bulges at either pocket, shaped suspiciously like eggs, and that crisp image wobbled.
Her eyes lingered there a moment, as if trying to see through the fabric. At last she lifted her gaze back to Xiang Changge’s face, saying nothing but clearly asking, *What now?*
Xiang Changge met her look steadily.
From the book, she knew how much Yu Qing had hated the laboratory‑specimen life of her childhood.
And yet, for her parents’ sake, she had accepted it.
It had been the only way to survive a little longer.
That was why, once they were gone, she had snapped the leash herself. Whether in rebellion or despair, she had stopped caring for her own body entirely.
Of course she knew starving herself and reversing day and night was bad for her. She simply didn’t see the point in doing better.
Nothing in this world was worth her attachment. Each day was only something to be gotten through.
Originally, Xiang Changge had planned to coax her into following the system’s schedule, little by little, until her routines and health steadied.
She had plenty of ways to get her to comply.
But now, looking at this girl who could hardly breathe for the effort of sitting up, pale face and fever‑bright eyes radiating resentment she didn’t even bother to express, Xiang Changge heard herself say it—
“Let’s make a bet.”
It was, in its way, a chance. At least on the surface, a choice.
Even if the choice only existed so she could justify doing what she’d planned all along.
“You don’t want to get up and eat, and I want you out of bed for breakfast. Our wishes clash, and neither of us feels like giving in. So let’s settle it with a game.”
“If you win, you can keep sleeping as you please. If I win, you get up and eat.”
Silence stretched between them.
At last, Yu Qing’s colorless lips moved, releasing three light, chilly words. “And why, exactly?”
On the surface it was a choice. Underneath, it was nothing but that question—*Why?*
She didn’t want to get up or eat. So what? Why should she have to bend to Xiang Changge’s will? When had her life stopped being hers to decide?
Expression smooth, Xiang Changge answered just as calmly. “Because we disagree. And because you can’t fire me.”
Yu Qing discovered that Xiang Changge possessed a strange kind of magic.
Just moments ago, she had been too drained to care if an earthquake swallowed her whole. One sentence from this woman and she suddenly had strength to spare.
Not only that—somewhere inside a wild little voice was now picturing pinning her down and pounding her into the mattress.
All with words alone.
She let out a short, incredulous laugh. “And if I refuse?”
Xiang Changge shrugged. “Then I’ll just have to serve you myself.”
Yu Qing: “……”
Serve?
What on earth did that mean?
Seeing the confusion in her eyes, Xiang Changge elaborated kindly, “I’ll personally get you up to wash, and personally feed you breakfast.”
Yu Qing’s lips tightened. Her world‑weary fish‑eyes locked onto her with a glare so sharp it could have sliced fruit.
If looks could kill, Xiang Changge would have been diced into ribbons.
But she seemed immune to such things. She held Yu Qing’s gaze without flinching.
It was Yu Qing who broke first, looking away as the image of being treated like a toddler played in her mind.
“…Fine. What’s the game?”
Her voice was barely above a murmur.
For once, Xiang Changge sounded very democratic. “Anything you like. Your choice.”
“Games, chess, puzzles… whatever you want.”
Yu Qing thought it over.
Games held no interest. Chess, she played on occasion.
“Then let’s play a game of chess.”
Xiang Changge nodded. Spotting Yu Qing’s phone tossed near the foot of the bed, she went to retrieve it and held it out.
Yu Qing frowned down at it. “What for?”
Weren’t they going to play chess?
“Unlock it. We’ll play on the phone.”
Still mystified, Yu Qing did as she was told.
The moment the screen flashed open, Xiang Changge used Yu Qing’s WeChat to send herself a friend request, then opened the mini‑program menu.