A Maid's Survival Story in a Noble Family Mansion? Rich Landlords Are More Appealing.

Granny Li knelt on the ground, her gray hair trembling slightly in the night wind, her face streaked with tears. But in her eyes, besides the tears, there was another light.

Those were people in despair who suddenly saw a glimmer of hope.

Qinghui, that little girl, just returned from dropping someone off and saw this situation without even telling her beforehand.

Chen Wanxing bent down and helped Granny Li up with both hands.

"Granny," her voice was soft but steady, "this is good news, it's incredibly good news, why are you crying?"

Even after being helped up, Granny Li still held onto her hand tightly, tears streaming down her face.

"Girl..." That was all she could say.

Amber stood to the side, watching this scene, her eyes also reddening.

She thought of herself.

Thinking back to when she left the Marquis's mansion and returned to Kaifeng all alone, she wondered if her parents in the capital would think of her during their leisure time.

But I doubt it; they probably wish they would never see her again in this lifetime.

The night breeze was cool, but somehow it was quite warm inside the courtyard.

Chen Wanxing helped Granny Li inside, saying as they went, "Let's talk inside, it's cold outside. Han Feng, you two come in too. This is such a joyous occasion, we should have a proper chat about it."

Li Mama was helped by her to walk, and after taking two steps, she turned back to look at Han Feng.

Korean style has caught up.

The mother and son's eyes met in mid-air, and they both smiled. As they smiled, their eyes reddened again.

Chen Wanxing didn't know how long Li Mama and Han Feng's family talked that night.

When she lay down, the light was still on in the west wing.

Even through the paper window, you could still hear the voices, deliberately lowered but still audible, rising and falling, occasionally punctuated by laughter, or perhaps someone crying.

She turned over and closed her eyes.

She couldn't remember when she fell asleep.

When I opened my eyes again, it was already getting light.

Chen Wanxing lay still, staring at the roof beam above her head for a while.

The roof beams of my old house were replaced last year, and the wood still has a faint, almost imperceptible scent of pine resin.

It was quiet outside. She got up, dressed, and pushed open the door.

The courtyard was quiet, and there was no movement from the east wing; Amber probably hadn't gotten up yet.

It was very cold outside; the morning chill seeped straight into her neck. She pulled her cotton-padded coat up tighter at the collar and headed towards the kitchen.

The kitchen was steaming, and Liu had gotten up early to get to work. Wisps of smoke rose and swirled in the cool morning light, slowly dissipating, carrying the aroma of millet porridge.

Chen Wanxing stood at the door, exhaling a puff of white breath.

"You're awake, young lady?" she greeted with a smile. "Why didn't you sleep a little longer? You must be exhausted after traveling for so many days."

Chen Wanxing shook her head: "I can't sleep."

"Was it cold in the room and you didn't sleep well? Last night I suggested turning on the floor heater a little longer, but Han Feng said that was enough..."

"No," Chen Wanxing interrupted her, "I slept well, I just got up as soon as I woke up."

At the stove opening, Han Feng was squatting down, adding firewood. When he heard the voices, he turned around, still clutching a piece of firewood in his hand, his face flushed from the fire. Upon seeing Chen Wanxing, he quickly stood up.

Han Feng stood there, his hands still covered in wood ash.

He hesitated for a moment before asking, "Miss, the account books for this year are all sorted out. Would you like me to show them to you in a few days after you've rested, or should I go get them now so you can check them against each other?"

"Okay," she said, "bring it now."

Han Feng responded, dusted off his hands, and walked out.

Madam Liu muttered to herself, "This man is talking about the account book first thing in the morning, as if he's afraid the young lady will forget."

"Young lady, please ignore him and have a bowl of porridge to warm yourself up."