Su Xi “ka-cha ka-cha” crunched on her chips, staring at the game avatar’s stern, cold little cartoon bun-face—she was utterly amused. The more she looked, the more she thought her game character was just too cute.

But seriously, wasn’t the Ning Prince’s Manor making it way too easy to frame someone? Just a few servants’ testimonies, and that Second Young Master could barge straight into the firewood yard with a whole bunch of people, without even asking what really happened? Outrageous!

Clearly, things like this must have happened many times before. And now that Lu Wenxiu had suffered a major loss and got his face slapped in front of everyone by her little game avatar, he would surely hold a deeper grudge. Who knew how he’d try to make trouble for her game character next?

Looking at her avatar’s dirty knees, Su Xi could tell that while she wasn’t online earlier in the evening, some unpleasant scene must have played out. He’d probably been punished to kneel.

But she couldn’t possibly stay online twenty-four hours a day to watch over him!

So, was there a way to at least stop Lu Wenxiu and those servants from casually entering the firewood yard again? Otherwise, this kind of framing was bound to happen once more.

Thinking so, Su Xi took the initiative to open the in-game shop, wanting to see what she could buy.

As soon as she had the thought, the system immediately popped up a list of items.

At the very top, from left to right, it read: “Peerless Expert Who Protects in Secret,” “Martial Arts Master Who Protects in Secret,” “Imperial Guard Who Protects in Secret,” “Elite Bodyguard Who Protects in Secret,” “Ordinary Bodyguard Who Protects in Secret,” “Completely Useless Weakling Who Protects in Secret.”

Su Xi’s eyes lit up, rubbing her hands together excitedly.

Now this was good—she’d buy one for her game character! If Lu Wenxiu dared to provoke him again, they could just beat him to the ground.

But when Su Xi glanced at the prices below—

“……”

She nearly fainted.

“What the hell, why are these prices so high?! A peerless expert costs 10,000,000 gold coins, and even the completely useless weakling costs 100,000?!”

A peerless expert would cost one hundred thousand yuan in real money. There was no way Su Xi was going to spend ten thousand RMB on a game character.

Even that weakling—one thousand RMB! For what? It literally says useless! Wouldn’t that just drag her avatar down instead of helping him?

“Shameless developer. This payment system is insane,” Su Xi cursed.

The system replied coldly and without mercy: “If you can’t afford it, shut up.”

Su Xi: “……”

There were also some silver swords, poisons, and other defensive items she could buy for her avatar—but all of them were far too expensive.

And even setting the price aside, she figured those weren’t practical right now anyway.

Given her game character’s current situation, if a bodyguard suddenly appeared at his side, or if a packet of poison suddenly appeared in his hand—wouldn’t that just get him dragged off to the Dali Temple [imperial judicial office] for investigation?

Su Xi scrolled further down and found a “Skill Exchange” section with entries like “Astronomy and Geography,” “Qin-playing Technique,” “Swordsmanship,” “Archery,” “Painting,” and so on.

Apparently, she could pay to upgrade her character’s proficiency in these areas.

But for now, all those skills were grayed out and locked—probably because the story and world progression hadn’t reached that point yet, so they couldn’t be exchanged.

Su Xi had no choice but to give up.

Then, the system prompted: “You need to find a backer for the protagonist.”

Su Xi instantly understood.

Right now, the plot outside the Ning Prince’s Manor hadn’t been unlocked, and no one yet knew that her game character’s true identity was that of a prince. The story hadn’t advanced into the realm of court intrigue.

At the moment, her character was merely a struggling illegitimate son, living a miserable life within the Ning Prince’s Manor.

To avoid Lu Wenxiu and the Ning Princess Consort bullying him again and again, indeed—he needed a backer more powerful than the Princess Consort herself.

Just then, a message popped up on the screen.

> “Please accept the Main Quest (Beginner): Gain the favor of the Old Madam of the Ning Prince’s Manor.”

In the earlier character introductions, there had been no mention of this Old Madam, and she hadn’t appeared once in the story so far. Su Xi couldn’t help but feel at a loss—how was she supposed to help her game character gain the Old Madam’s favor?

She didn’t even know the woman’s preferences, background, or temperament.

There was simply no way to start.

Su Xi opened the map of the Ning Prince’s Manor and discovered that the Old Madam’s residence, Mei’an Courtyard, was located behind the main hall, beside the back mountain. The entire courtyard was nearly one-third the size of the entire manor—equivalent to hundreds of her avatar’s firewood yards! Just from the scale of her residence, it was clear the Old Madam was a person of great significance.

Su Xi rubbed her palms together eagerly. “Can I unlock the Old Madam’s Mei’an Courtyard?”

The system replied, “Unlocking the Old Madam’s Mei’an Courtyard requires a total of 30 points. Your current total is 7.”

Su Xi immediately deflated. “……”

All right then.

Since she couldn’t think of any way to complete this main quest for now, she was just about to switch screens to check what her game character was doing when her phone suddenly lit up with an incoming call—from “Auntie.”

She quickly closed the game and answered.

“Hello, Auntie.” Su Xi huddled under her blanket; her feet were cold, so she curled them up tightly.

She thought her aunt was calling to check on her injury, so before the woman could even speak, she said cheerfully, “Auntie, my leg’s fine. I just twisted it during the sports meet. The doctor said I’ll be able to go back to class after resting a bit longer.”

But on the other end, her aunt hesitated for a moment before saying, “Xixi, since you’re all right, that’s a relief. But, could you find some time to remind your parents to pay back the hundred thousand yuan they owe me soon? It’s almost New Year’s, and I really need to pay your cousin’s tuition for the new term…”

“One hundred thousand?” Su Xi was stunned. When had her parents borrowed money from her aunt? She had no idea about any of this.

“Yes, we’d originally agreed that your parents would pay me back next spring, but something urgent’s come up on my side.”

Her aunt’s tone carried a hint of embarrassment.

Su Xi also felt awkward—it wasn’t exactly glorious to be asked about a debt.

She bit her lip and said, “All right, don’t worry, Auntie. I’ll ask them.”

After hanging up, Su Xi sat there, phone in hand, dazed.

Had something happened at her parents’ factory? Why would they suddenly need to borrow money?

Though her family wasn’t rich, they had always lived comfortably. Her parents had never made her worry about money. Her allowance wasn’t the most among her classmates, but it was generous enough. She’d always been free to attend whatever tutoring or hobby classes she liked.

So hearing that her parents had borrowed money from her aunt—it made her uneasy. Maybe something had gone wrong.

Unable to keep it to herself, she quickly called her dad.

“Why aren’t you asleep yet?” her father answered, his voice gruff with sleep. “Your mom’s already gone to bed.”

“Dad,” Su Xi said, “Auntie just called me and told me to remind you guys to pay her back before the end of the year.”

Her father immediately frowned. “That’s something she should’ve discussed with us. Why bother a child about it?”

“Dad,” Su Xi asked, “how come I didn’t even know you guys borrowed money?”

Su Xi’s father hesitated for a moment before explaining.

“It’s really nothing major,” he said. “It’s just that toward the end of the year, the factory ran into a small problem—some payments got stuck, and we couldn’t turn over the cash in time.”

He and Su Xi’s mother co-owned the factory with a friend. That friend had invested more, so her parents’ role was half-partner, half-employee. Originally, they had about a hundred thousand yuan in savings, but bad luck struck last month when a piece of equipment was damaged—and the responsibility fell on her father. He had to pay eighty thousand in compensation.

Then this month, Su Xi was hospitalized for her fracture. Though the medical fees were partly reimbursed, all the other expenses added up to nearly ten thousand.

With everything piling up at once, money became tight, so they’d borrowed a hundred thousand yuan from her aunt to get through the rough patch.

“Your aunt originally agreed that we could pay her back after New Year,” her father sighed helplessly. “I told her that once your mom and I get our salaries and dividends in spring, we’d return it immediately. But who’d have thought—barely two weeks after lending it, she’s already asking for it back.”

Debts were debts, and repayment was only right. Still, when their own finances had been more comfortable, they’d lent her aunt’s family tens of thousands at a time and had never once pressed for repayment.

Su Xi felt a pang of guilt and worry, not knowing what to say.

Ever since she was little, her bad luck seemed endless—she was always in and out of hospitals.

This time, with the hospitalization and all the tests, she’d assumed her parents still had savings, so she hadn’t thought much of it. She hadn’t realized how hard things had become for them, especially at the end of the year.

“Don’t worry,” her father said, coughing twice. “Every family has rough times. Things will get better once spring comes.”

Su Xi grew anxious. “Dad, are you calling without a coat again? You’ll catch a cold!”

Her father tried to soothe her. “And you—go to sleep already. Stop overthinking. I’ll sort things out with your aunt. Worst case, I’ll just pay her extra interest.”

“If I really can’t manage, I’ll borrow from a friend first, repay your aunt, and pay my friend back in spring. Xixi, this isn’t something you should be worrying about.”

Her aunt probably regretted lending them the money, thinking the interest wasn’t worth it—that was likely why she’d started pressing for repayment.

Su Xi murmured an “mm,” hung up, and pulled the blanket tighter around herself. Still, her thoughts wouldn’t quiet.

She could already imagine it: if the debt wasn’t paid by New Year, her aunt would definitely go around telling everyone that their family owed her a huge sum.

Her aunt wouldn’t care about saving face for her parents.

But where could her father even find someone willing to lend that much money?

Sigh.

If only she hadn’t been hospitalized, her parents wouldn’t be in such a tight spot.

She was doing nothing anyway—maybe she could earn a little by helping classmates with their homework? Even a bit would help… though it was hardly more than a drop in the bucket.

Now, she couldn’t bring herself to play the game at all. She shoved her phone under her pillow, turned on airplane mode, and fell asleep with a heavy heart.

───♡───

Meanwhile, Lu Huan had just tidied away the food box. His expression remained cold and solemn as he returned indoors.

After tonight’s incident, Lu Wenxiu, humiliated and furious, likely wouldn’t dare trouble him again anytime soon.

The noisy servants had quieted down as well, and the night finally fell into silence.

Snow drifted softly outside. As always, Lu Huan wrung out his damp robe and hung it up, then blew out the candle and lay down, pulling the thin blanket over himself.

He reached beneath him, feeling for the dagger hidden in the crack of the wall, gripping it tightly in his palm and pressing it beneath his body—more alert than ever.

From that angle, he could just see the patched section of the roof above.

That section of the roof had once lost a few tiles to the wind. When the snow grew too heavy, the weight had caved it in slightly. Two days ago, Lu Huan had gathered straw and stones from outside to patch it up.

But he remembered clearly—he’d been feverish and weak that night and hadn’t managed to finish the repair. There were still gaps left, ones he’d planned to fix once the weather cleared. Yet now—

There wasn’t the slightest gap left. The repair was even neater and cleaner than what he himself had done!

It wasn’t his imagination.

Everything strange that had happened these past few days—none of it had been his imagination.

Now, the roof was mended, the wooden gate stuffed with straw, the quilt had grown thicker, and while the wind howled fiercely outside, inside the little shack there was, impossibly, a trace of warmth long gone.

—What in the world was happening?