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

Chen Wanxing watched from the side, picked up her teacup and took a sip, but did not speak immediately.

Seeing that Uncle Chen did not refute her, Zhao felt reassured and her smile deepened: "Brother Chen, don't worry, we will definitely treat Qiuju like our own daughter after she marries into our family."

Chuanzi is an honest child; she won't mistreat her. Our two families will stay in touch and help each other out—it's a wonderful thing.”

As she spoke, she stood up, patted her clothes, and said, "Then I won't bother you any longer. Second Uncle, you can discuss it slowly. I'll come back in a few days and wait for your news."

After saying that, she walked away with a smile.

The main room was so quiet that you could hear the crackling of the charcoal fire.

Qiuju sat there, tears falling in a steady stream onto the embroidery hoop in her hands, soaking the newly embroidered plum blossoms.

She looked up at her father and met his gaze.

Uncle Chen glanced at her, then casually looked away without saying a word.

Seeing her father's indifferent and cold expression, Qiuju raised her hand and wiped her face with her sleeve.

She stopped crying and didn't cry anymore.

Chen Wanxing's eyelids twitched slightly as she looked at her.

Qiuju put the embroidery hoop aside, stood up, and walked to the middle of the main room.

"Father," she began, her voice still a little hoarse but steady, "I don't want to get married."

The room fell silent for a moment.

Uncle Chen seemed not to have heard him clearly and asked again, "What did you say?"

"I don't want to get married," Qiuju said again, her voice more steady than before. "Brother Tianchuan, I won't get married."

Uncle Chen's face flushed red instantly.

He stood up, pointing at Qiuju, his finger trembling, "You little brat, who gave you the guts? Don't you understand the rules of arranged marriages, whether you like it or not?"

He stopped mid-sentence, before he could utter even harsher words.

Because Grandma Chen's gaze, which seemed to have a tangible quality, fell on him, though it wasn't intense; she just looked at him calmly and indifferently.

But Uncle Chen felt a chill on the back of his neck, and the words in his throat got stuck, stuck there, neither coming out nor going out.

He swallowed hard, and his posture unconsciously shrank by half.

Grandma Chen didn't say anything, but picked up her teacup and took a sip.

Uncle Chen stood there awkwardly for a while, then sat down again, looking dejected.

Qiu Ju, who was standing to the side, did not dodge. She stood there looking at Uncle Chen, her eyes still red, but the fear in her eyes had disappeared at some point.

"I understand," she said, "but I don't want to."

Uncle Chen's anger, which had just subsided, was reignited by Qiu Ju's stubborn demeanor. He glared at Qiu Ju:

"You think you're all grown up now? Daring to talk back to your father?"

Qiu Ju pursed her lips, while Chen Wanxing watched from the side, gently turning the teacup in her hand.

She recalled when she first took Qiuju to Kaifeng last year. The girl hardly spoke on the way, looked at everything timidly, and answered only when asked a question, her voice as soft as a mosquito's hum.

When Amber first started teaching her embroidery, she was always very nervous. When she made mistakes, she would usually just lower her head and start over.

It's only been a year.

Unexpectedly, that timid little girl was now standing in the middle of the main room, facing her father, and directly refusing the marriage proposal.

Chen Wanxing smiled slightly, picked up her teacup, and took a sip.

Uncle Chen continued cursing, his voice growing louder and louder: "Who do you think you are? Let me tell you, you are my daughter, and I decide your marriage."

Aunt Chen was getting increasingly anxious, and finally interrupted Uncle Chen, finding an opportunity to speak:

"Honey, who in our Xiahe Village doesn't know who the Tian family is? You just believe whatever she says?"

As she spoke, her eyes reddened: "That Zhao family is so biased. Her son is her precious treasure, but Tian Chuan is just a hard-working ox."

He spends all year round running in the fields and forests, but how much of the money he earns from the game he hunts actually ends up in his own pocket?

He never utters a sound, he just keeps working hard in silence. Anyone who marries him isn't marrying him, they're marrying into his family to be his workhorse.

As she spoke, her voice trembled with tears: "I can't let my daughter jump into that fire pit. You still think you can get their help? I think you should give up on that idea."

Qiuju stood in the middle of the main room without saying a word. She listened to her parents' argument, her heart filled with mixed feelings.

She lowered her head, looking at the small patch of ground in front of her toes, her ears filled with her mother's tearful voice and her father's furious curses.

But those sounds seemed to be muffled by something, buzzing and indistinct.

She was thinking about something else.

Those were the days in Kaifeng.

Two months ago, when Sister Amber was still taking on embroidery work, she never lowered her voice.

Later, when she actually decided to open that embroidery shop, there were many things to take care of. When the two older sisters talked business with the shopkeepers, they stood up straight, didn't say much, but every word they said was to the point.

At first, the shopkeepers were aloof, but as the conversation went on, they started bowing and scraping.

She was watching from the sidelines, and she had only one thought in her mind: so women can be like this too.

Sister Wanxing has her own house, shop, and income, so she doesn't need anyone to rely on, and no one dares to bully her.

It was at this moment that she realized how important it is for a woman to have money and the ability to make money.

And she was lucky; she had both of those qualities.

She loved needlework from a young age and never found it boring. A needle, a ball of thread, a piece of cloth—she could transform them into all sorts of shapes in her hands.

That feeling was indescribably reassuring. Later, when she went to Kaifeng and followed Sister Amber, she studied even harder.

Sister Amber was generous and willing to teach, so she dared not slack off. She learned during the day and pondered at night, even thinking about the needlework techniques in her dreams.

Although she is still learning from Sister Amber, her current wages are already much higher than when she was in the county.

When I bought those silver earrings for my mother, and when she wore them and secretly looked at herself in the mirror in the room.

She pretended not to see it, but her heart was warmed, and she was happier than if she had received any good things herself.

Qiuju looked up. Her mother and father were still arguing, but she had already calmed down and was no longer flustered.

She lowered her head and glanced at her hands again. Her hands were white and tender, like scallion segments. She took even better care of them than her face.

Qiuju clenched her fists. Now that she was capable of supporting herself, how could she be willing to marry a man just for a meal, bear his children, and manage the household?

She didn't want to marry just anyone, and she didn't want to live her life in a daze.

During her time in Kaifeng, she saw Young Master Wang come to see Sister Wanxing many times.

There wasn't anything intimate between them, but the way Young Master Wang looked at his sister was clearly different from how he looked at others.

Even Sister Wanxing, who is usually so composed, would smile when she saw him coming.

She also longed to meet someone she liked, just like Sister Wanxing, and for him to look at her the way Young Master Wang looked at Sister Wanxing.

It wasn't perfunctory or half-hearted; it was the kind of performance where there was genuine light in your eyes.

She never dared to say these words aloud.

But now—