The effects of the aphrodisiac were too intense.
Ye Chutang struggled for two hours before finally neutralizing the effects.
Gasping for breath, she rolled off and collapsed onto the ground.
Her legs felt like they weren’t her own, trembling uncontrollably.
"I never expected being on top would be so exhausting! My knees are swollen, and my back feels like it’s about to break!"
After muttering to herself, she turned her gaze to the unconscious, strikingly handsome man beside her.
His body bore numerous scars—some old, some fresh—but the most noticeable were the fresh claw marks raked across his skin.
Too embarrassed to look any longer, Ye Chutang got up and pulled her pants back on.
"I keep my word. Starting tomorrow, I’ll help you detoxify the fire poison."
With that, she picked up the man’s outer robe from the edge of the cold spring and draped it over his sculpted, hormone-charged physique.
Then, gripping him firmly, she activated her earth-based ability and transported them both back beneath the crabapple tree.
By now, night had fully descended.
The Liu family was dead, leaving the estate eerily quiet, save for the occasional murmur of farmers chatting over dinner in the distance.
Ye Chutang carried the unconscious Qi Yanzhou to the bed in the east wing, stripped off his damp outer robe, and hung it on the folding screen to dry.
She then rummaged through the west wing and found a set of undergarments Old Man Liu had recently bought but never worn, dressing Qi Yanzhou in them.
She couldn’t resist sneaking a few appreciative strokes over his well-defined abs before leaving.
Before exiting, she lit the oil lamp on the table so he wouldn’t wake up in darkness.
Returning to her own room, Ye Chutang lit another lamp, changed into clean clothes, and bandaged the wound on her forehead.
Exhausted and starving, she sat at the table, pulling out bread and yogurt from her spatial storage. As she ate, she pondered her next move.
Should she stay in the countryside and live freely?
Or return to the Minister's Mansion to reclaim everything that rightfully belonged to the original owner of this body?
Before she could decide, a knock interrupted her thoughts.
"Miss Ye, are you asleep?"
She immediately recognized the voice as Aunt Wang’s.
The original host had been exceptionally skilled in embroidery, and Granny Liu had struck a deal with a fabric shop in town.
The arrangement was simple: the original host would embroider handkerchiefs—two a day, earning fifteen copper coins per piece.
Aunt Wang’s son, Cheng'er, worked as a carpenter in town and would collect the finished handkerchiefs every ten days, delivering them to the shop and bringing back twenty blank ones for the next batch.
He pocketed ten coins as a delivery fee, while the rest went to Granny Liu.
Today was supposed to be the tenth day—the original host should have handed over twenty embroidered handkerchiefs to Aunt Wang that afternoon.
But she had died before fulfilling the task.
Aunt Wang, having waited in vain, decided to come to the estate herself.
After all, ten coins for such an easy job was too good to pass up.
"Miss Ye! Miss Ye!" Aunt Wang banged on the door, shouting loud enough to wake the dead.
Ye Chutang hadn’t yet disposed of the three Liu corpses. Worried that Aunt Wang might rally the villagers if she didn’t answer, she stuffed the last of her bread into her mouth and tossed the packaging into the trash bin inside her spatial storage.
Following the original host’s memories, she retrieved a bamboo basket from the top of the wardrobe.
Inside, neatly arranged, were twenty exquisitely embroidered double-sided handkerchiefs.
Ye Chutang kept one for herself and took the remaining nineteen to the door.
"Aunt Wang, please wait a moment—I need to put on a coat!" she called out.
She then hurried to the west wing, lit the oil lamp, and rummaged through the wardrobe, deliberately rustling clothes to create movement.
From outside, the flickering shadows in the window made it seem as though the three Lius were drinking together inside.
Satisfied with the illusion, Ye Chutang opened the gate and handed the handkerchiefs to Aunt Wang.
"Granny Liu’s son visited today," she explained, deliberately angling herself so Aunt Wang could catch a glimpse of the "family" inside the west wing.
Once Aunt Wang spotted the silhouettes, Ye Chutang quickly blocked her view again.
"They’ve been eating and chatting all evening. I was so busy I fell asleep and forgot about the handkerchiefs. I’m one short—please ask Cheng'er to apologize to the shop owner for me."
Aunt Wang was no stranger to Ye Chutang’s miserable life—a lady by birth but treated worse than a servant. The wound on her forehead barely warranted a second glance.
With a sigh, Aunt Wang asked, "Miss Ye, do you plan to live like this forever?"
Channeling the original host’s meekness, Ye Chutang forced out a few tears.
"Aunt Wang, my father doesn’t care for me, and my stepmother despises me. What else can I do?"
The Minister was a high-ranking official in the capital. Aunt Wang knew better than to gossip about his household.
She hastily took a step back. "I’ll pass your message along. Rest well, Miss Ye."
"Thank you. Be careful on your way back—it’s dark and damp."
The moment Aunt Wang left, Ye Chutang shut the gate.
She dragged the two stiff corpses from the courtyard into the west wing, then looted everything valuable or useful, stashing it all in her spatial storage.
After a decade surviving the apocalypse, hoarding supplies had become second nature to her.
Next, she fetched cooking oil from the kitchen and doused the three corpses to ensure they’d burn well.
Finally, she positioned the oil lamp above the bodies, rigging a simple mechanism so it would topple over in about two hours, igniting the west wing and reducing the corpses to ashes.
Hmph. They wanted to rape and murder the original host, then pass it off as a natural death?
Well, I’ll make it look like they got drunk, knocked over a lamp, and burned themselves alive!
Once everything was set, Ye Chutang left the west wing.
Anticipating the fire’s spread, she cleared out anything useful from the main house and kitchen, storing it all in her spatial storage.
With the heavy lifting done, she returned to the east wing and carried the still-unconscious Qi Yanzhou to the cellar behind the house, hiding him there.
If villagers discovered a strange man in the east wing during the fire, she’d have a hard time explaining.
After securing Qi Yanzhou, she emptied the cellar of food, vegetables, and alcohol, stashing them away before retreating to the main house to rest.
Exhaustion hit her like a tidal wave, and she fell asleep instantly.
Two hours later, the crackling of burning wood jolted her awake.
The room glowed crimson from the raging flames outside the window.
She stayed in bed, feigning sleep, waiting for the villagers to arrive.
Soon, the eaves of the main house caught fire, heat rolling in waves.
By then, the villagers had noticed the blaze and came running with buckets, shouting, "Fire! Fire!"
The heavy gate was quickly forced open.
Ye Chutang, "unconscious," was carried out to safety.
Aunt Wang pinched her philtrum and patted her cheeks. "Miss Ye, wake up!"
Slowly, Ye Chutang fluttered her eyes open, feigning confusion. "Aunt Wang… what happened?"
"Miss Ye, your estate is on fire! The west wing’s already collapsed. Granny Liu and her family… they’re probably gone."
Ye Chutang furrowed her brows. "A fire? How?"
She turned toward the smoldering ruins of the west wing, her face a picture of shock and fear.
Aunt Wang recalled the silhouettes she’d seen earlier and ventured a guess.
"Maybe they drank too much and knocked over the lamp. A terrible accident."
Someone in the crowd muttered, "Karma’s a bitch."
The villagers nodded in agreement.
Everyone knew how cruelly Granny Liu and her husband had treated the original host.
But since it hadn’t concerned them, they’d turned a blind eye.
Now that all three members of the Liu family were gone, there was no harm in the villagers indulging in a bit of gossip for their own amusement.
As the villagers struggled to put out the fire, Qi Yanzhou awoke in the cellar.
