Nothing prepared by a Master Chef was ever ordinary. This morning’s breakfast looked simple enough—soy milk, soup dumplings, fish congee, and two golden fried rolls—but from Mu Yue’s very first bite, her sense of happiness began to soar.
The soy milk was unbelievably smooth, without the slightest hint of beaniness, its sweetness perfectly balanced. The soup dumplings were just the right size for a single bite. There were eight in a basket, with four different fillings. Their wrappers were not paper-thin; instead, they were soft and fluffy with a pleasant chew, carrying the pure fragrance of wheat. Together with the exquisitely fresh filling, they were immensely satisfying.
And the congee needed no further praise. The fish was completely boneless and so tender it rivaled tofu. Mixed with the thick, velvety porridge, it seemed to melt the instant it entered her mouth.
There was simply nothing to criticize. Absolutely nothing!
Mu Yue savored her meal at an unhurried pace, occasionally glancing out at the view in the courtyard.
She had put the Master Chef to work the very day after acquiring the estate. After a week of eating master-level meals, every mealtime had become the part of the day Mu Yue looked forward to most.
The former housekeeper had become the chef’s assistant. Card characters generally did not have conflicts with one another; they got along harmoniously and worked with remarkable efficiency.
The Master Chef’s character design was that of a kindly grandmother with wrinkles on her face. Mu Yue had watched her cook before. Every movement flowed as naturally as drifting clouds and running water, and even the simplest actions were pleasing to watch. When she seriously showed off her knife skills, it was nothing short of a visual feast.
The ages of character cards did not increase with the amount of time they were used. If Mu Yue had enough points, she could even change their skins.
Aside from the Master Chef, the private doctor was also a woman in her fifties, dressed in a traditional Chinese style. She was proficient in every branch of medicine, though her specialty was traditional Chinese medicine. The gardener was an honest-looking man in his forties. The stylist was a fashionable woman in her thirties. The senior bodyguards came as a male-and-female pair, as did the cleaners.
The driver, meanwhile, was a young and handsome guy. He was also high-level: aside from military vehicles, he could operate every kind of civilian transport, and with first-rate skill. Yachts, planes, even trains—he could drive them all.
Naturally, her thirteen-person core team were all trustworthy people on her side. The externally hired staff mainly consisted of gardeners and cleaners, assigned to different teams with character cards serving as their leaders.
There were also ten outside employees. The estate was simply too large, and there was plenty to clean and maintain every day. Mu Yue had specifically looked into it: excluding labor costs, annual maintenance for the grounds came to nearly thirty million.
Mu Yue had been a little startled when she learned that. Fortunately, she had a cheat ability. Otherwise, even if she had the money, she would have been reluctant to live in a place like this. The yearly upkeep alone was an astronomical expense—definitely not something just anyone could afford.
After breakfast, Mu Yue took a stroll around the grounds. Quite a few changes had been made since her first visit. The buildings were largely untouched; the main changes were to the plants. The front garden had been filled with autumn and winter vegetation, its colors vivid and varied. No matter where one stood, it was easy to take a photogenic picture.
Mu Yue thought that since she had moved into her new home, she had not recorded the occasion yet. With nothing much to do anyway, she asked the stylist—the best photographer among them—to take a couple of photos of her.
The stylist had barely arrived before things started getting a little out of hand. Homewear was meant to be casual, sure, but Mu Yue wanted something memorable—so why not add a touch of ceremony and go all out with the makeup and styling?
The stylist put together two looks: one elegant and luxurious, the other lively and playful.
For the lavish look, Mu Yue wore the jade set she had received from last month’s daily sign-in rewards. The vivid green jade paired with a white silk-velvet autumn-and-winter qipao, topped with a snow-white fur stole, made her look every inch a young lady of wealth and status.
Perhaps it was the styling, or perhaps it was simply her natural bearing. With nothing more than a lift of her eyes, the Mu Yue captured in the photograph looked as though she were surveying her domain. It was clear that she regarded everyone beyond the camera with equal indifference—yet everyone stood beneath her.
Though she wore soft, gentle white, on her it became the height of aloofness. One look was enough for anyone outside the frame to understand: she was someone they could never touch, separated from them by an unbridgeable gulf.
Mu Yue, looking at the photo: …
Um... wasn’t the air of class hierarchy a little too strong here?
Well, whatever. As long as it looked good!
The accessories for the second look were pearls. Mu Yue had previously received a box of twenty large pearls through daily sign-in. The designer had originally wanted to turn them into a necklace, but Mu Yue vetoed the idea. At her age, a necklace of such large pearls would have been far too extravagant; something smaller and cuter suited her better. In the end, the designer only used a few, making a pearl crown, ring, and earrings.
The outfit was a red autumn princess dress. The photo shoot moved indoors, and since it was afternoon, she posed while eating the desserts the kitchen had prepared for her. In the resulting pictures, she transformed directly from a queen into a princess. With the sunlight and the change of setting, the mood was no longer chilly—it even felt a little festive.
After some simple retouching, the stylist declared the job finished. Mu Yue was quite pleased with the results, so she finally updated her Moments feed again after a long absence.
Less than two minutes after posting, the likes began pouring in. The first comment was from Lin Xiaoxiao, who had apparently picked up some shamelessly flirty slang from somewhere.
[Ahhh! Step on me, sis!]
Mu Yue checked the date. It was already the final month of the year, and she hadn’t seen Lin Xiaoxiao in ages. During the New Year’s Day holiday, she should ask whether Lin Xiaoxiao wanted to come over and have some fun.
Wen Yuanting’s situation was also set to happen on New Year’s Eve. She needed to find an excuse to keep Wen Xue occupied and delay her return.
In that case... huh? Why not just throw a New Year’s Eve party? Invite all the people she knew well for a little gathering. Ever since coming here, she had never hosted a party—and she had just moved into a new home, too.
Once she made up her mind, Mu Yue acted immediately. She opened her GreenChat conversation with Lin Xiaoxiao and asked if she wanted to come over, then sent the same question to her dorm group chat.
Meanwhile, Wen Yuanting was holding his phone, his thumb hovering over the comment that read, “Step on me, sis!” Before he realized it, he had hit Like. He hurriedly removed it, but despite there being no one around, his face burned bright red.
He stared distractedly at the new set of photos posted by the person he followed, wondering what kind of comment he could leave that wouldn’t seem too ordinary.
But if it wasn’t ordinary... wouldn’t that make him stand out too much?
His phone buzzed. He had only just removed his like when he accidentally tapped it again. Before he could undo it, Wen Yuanting saw that Mu Yue had sent him a message. Forgetting everything else, he hurriedly opened it to see what she had said.
[Come to my place on the morning of the first. Don’t go out before midnight.]
It was a brief message, accompanied by a location pin. Wen Yuanting opened it and zoomed in on the map, drawing in a quiet breath.
Yujing Garden.
As someone born and raised in A City, he had heard of Yujing Garden. It was a private estate belonging to the city’s wealthiest elite. Yet the estate’s owner wasn’t surnamed Mu—so if Mu Yue was saying it was her home, there was only one possible explanation.
—His junior really was terrifyingly well-off.
After replying to Mu Yue, Wen Yuanting asked whether he needed to prepare anything else for that day.
Mu Yue did not reply right away; she was still inviting other people.
That was when Wen Yuanting remembered the post on Moments. He quickly switched back, intending to remove his like again, but in the end, he gave up. His heart began to race.
What if she had seen it?
Wasn’t that exactly what he wanted—to be noticed by her?
Mu Yue replied a little while later, telling him directly that she was planning to hold a New Year’s party at her home on the first, lasting the entire day.
Mu Yue thought over the exact timing of Wen Yuanting’s ten car accidents. Some had happened in the morning, some in the afternoon, and others at night. There was no fixed pattern, though nighttime incidents had been the most common.
She sent him a voice call. “How about this? Why don’t you come stay at my place the night before, just in case? On the first, you can spend the whole day here. Even if something does happen, the odds of a robber daring to break into my house and run you over are extremely low.”
Wen Yuanting sighed inwardly. Not merely low—the probability was infinitely close to zero. What kind of place was Yujing Garden? Its security was layered inside and out. Robbers might drive recklessly through the streets, but they would never make it into a place like that.
“Wouldn’t that be too much trouble for you?” Wen Yuanting asked.
Mu Yue joked, “A little. Senior, you can start thinking about how you’ll repay me. I have plenty of rooms here. If you’d feel uncomfortable, you can bring a friend along too. The more people, the livelier it’ll be.”
“Okay. Thank you, Mu Yue.”
Even as he spoke, Wen Yuanting was already making plans. He would go alone the night before, then invite Zhao Yang to the party the next day. As for why he wanted to go alone the night before—naturally, it was because he had hopes. He wanted to be alone with her, even if only briefly, even if the chance was slim.
Mu Yue contacted everyone in turn, and they all agreed without hesitation, Wen Xue included. Wen Xue said that the New Year’s gala she had booked was prerecorded, and she would not be attending any events that day.
After all, she had a devoted-lover image to maintain. On a special occasion like New Year’s, of course she was supposed to want to spend it properly with the person she “loved.”
But that act might fool Wei Xuan, that bastard, but Wen Xue had no intention of actually behaving herself and staying put. The moment Mu Yue invited her, she agreed without a second thought. Still, she had to leave some time open—she would need to go by ten at the latest.
When she got back, she’d still have to put on an act. She could make a few dishes—though cooking them herself was out of the question. She’d just order cheap takeout and pretend she’d made it. Besides, she wasn’t going to eat any of it.
And if Wei Xuan thought it tasted bad, she could look apologetic and say she wasn’t much of a cook, but she’d do better next time.
Ten o’clock meant ten at night, even later than Wen Xue had returned in the original story. That would set up the scene where the heroine waits anxiously for the hero, who never comes back to pick up his one true love.
Once she’d invited everyone and estimated the headcount, Mu Yue handed the New Year’s party over to Carter. Event planning was one of the all-around butler’s many skills, so Mu Yue didn’t have to worry about a thing.
There might not be many guests, but there were all kinds of things to prepare in advance: potential mishaps, games, indoor and outdoor decorations, the menu, and so on.
December always seemed to fly by. New Year’s Day drew closer, and the campus at A University was buzzing with excitement. Christmas and the New Year’s gala were just around the corner. Everyone was marveling at how quickly the year had passed and looking forward to the next, with a little uncertainty about the future mixed in.
But Mu Yue wasn’t one to feel uncertain.
She was amazed, too. Almost a year had passed since she’d arrived in this world.
And in that short time, she’d done so much: visited all sorts of places and seen all kinds of sights. Looking back, there were one or two moments that still felt unreal.
But whenever she felt that way, her four fluffy little companions would start chattering away, reminding her in their own way what was real.
On the thirty-first, Mu Yue opened her daily-login blind box.
She was in luck today. The prize was a fitting one for the occasion: a Points-Gathering Treasure Basin!
The basin was made of gold inlaid with jade, extravagantly ornate. It could be displayed indoors, and she could deposit points into it each day. After seven days, it was guaranteed to yield a return, with the multiplier varying.
For example, if she deposited one point a day and the multiplier came up as five, she’d get thirty-five points after a week.
There was a chance the return might be lower, but a fiftyfold multiplier was still worth a gamble.
The ten-person team’s points were still being repaid in installments, so this blind-box item really was a fine New Year’s gift.
She had just set the basin in her bedroom when she received a message from Wen Yuanting. It was still morning, but he was already getting nervous.
That was understandable. He’d repeated this ten times already, and this time someone had believed him and offered help. If he still couldn’t succeed, it would probably be a huge blow.
But Mu Yue wouldn’t let that happen.
Once this bug was dealt with, she’d get ten thousand points. She wasn’t about to let anyone stand in the way of earning them—not even Wen Yuanting, if he was thinking of giving up now!
