Chapter 98 -

Chapter 98: Chapter

Manager Zhao led Yimei, Qinqin, and Liu Feng down a narrow, muddy path that wound up the side of the hill toward the south ridge. The air grew colder, and the wind whipped hard against the high rocks.

Manager Zhao pointed up at a steep bend near the top of the path. "Young Madame, the main water gates are just past that turn. The path up there is very narrow and slippery. Please, let me step ahead to guide you."

Yimei looked at the muddy trail. She noticed that the soil near the steep drop-off was freshly loosened and covered lightly with fresh snow to hide a trap. A single bad step would send anyone sliding straight down the rocky cliff.

She exchanged a quick, silent glance with Liu Feng.

"Manager Zhao," Yimei said sweetly, stopping right in her tracks. "You are older and the wind is fierce today. Why don’t you walk ahead of me? A local manager like you must know this path better than anyone."

Manager Zhao’s face stiffened. "Ah... Young Madame, as a servant, I cannot walk in front of you—"

"I insist," Yimei said, her tone turning firm and commanding. "Go on."

Manager Zhao swallowed hard, sweat breaking out on his neck despite the freezing wind. He had no choice. He carefully stepped around the loose, icy soil he had secretly prepared, taking tiny, trembling steps along the safe inner rock wall.

Seeing him carefully avoid that exact spot confirmed Yimei’s suspicions.

Once they reached the top ridge, Manager Zhao gestured toward a rusted metal wheel attached to a dry wooden channel. "You see, Young Madame? The water gate is completely dry! The river level dropped because of the bad winter drought, just as I told Master Bai!"

Yimei walked past the dry wheel and looked down the back side of the stone wall. Using her sharp eye, she immediately spotted fresh water splashing through a hidden, newly built stone channel down below. The flowing water was being diverted straight toward Second Uncle’s private fruit orchard on the neighboring hill, keeping his trees rich while leaving the main estate’s fields to starve.

"A drought, you say?" Yimei asked, a small, cold smile touching her lips.

Manager Zhao nodded quickly. "Yes, Young Madame! Nature is cruel!"

"Then why is there fresh river mud dripping from your boots, Manager Zhao?" Yimei asked smoothly, pointing down at his shoes. "And why do I hear rushing water right beneath this stone slab?"

Manager Zhao froze, his face turning pale. "W-What?"

Yimei looked at Liu Feng. "Liu Feng, lift that wooden cover."

Liu Feng stepped forward and kicked the wooden trapdoor open. Beneath it lay the real, heavy iron wheel, fully opened and pushing high volumes of water into the hidden channel.

"You took Second Uncle’s money to starve the First Branch’s land," Yimei said, her voice turning icy cold. "Where are the real account books?"

Manager Zhao started shaking like a leaf, but he clamped his mouth shut, refusing to say a word.

"Take him down to his private study at the farm house," Yimei ordered Liu Feng. "A corrupt manager wouldn’t hide his private money records out in a damp, muddy field. He keeps them close where he can count his cash."

Down at the farm estate’s main house, Liu Feng dragged a bound, sweating Manager Zhao straight into his private study and forced him onto his knees.

Zhengyu was already sitting in his wheelchair inside the room, having finished inspecting the north storehouse. He looked up, his cold, dark gaze locking onto the terrified manager.

Yimei walked into the study, her sharp eyes scanning the room. She ignored the obvious books stacked on the main wooden desk, those were clearly the fake ledgers. Instead, she began inspecting the room.

She walked past the bookshelves and stopped right by the wall behind Manager Zhao’s desk, where a large decorative landscape painting hung. She noticed faint drag marks on the floorboards directly beneath a heavy wooden display cabinet beside the wall.

Yimei walked over and pushed the cabinet aside. Behind it sat a small, hollow wall brick. She pulled the loose brick out, reaching her hand deep inside the hidden gap.

Her fingers brushed against a thick, leather-bound book.

Yimei pulled out the real ledger, along with a thick stack of receipt notes stamped with Second Uncle Bai Chengbang’s private seal. The pages were filled with neat columns detailing every single bag of grain stolen and every bribe paid over the last three years.

"Looking for this, Manager Zhao?" Yimei asked, stepping over to Zhengyu’s wheelchair and holding out the book.

Manager Zhao gasped, dropping his forehead straight onto the floorboards in complete defeat. "Spared... spare my life, Young Master! Young Madame!"

Zhengyu looked down at the ledger in her hands, then looked up into her victorious, smiling face.

"Good job, wife," Zhengyu said softly, his deep voice approving as he took the book from her hands. He looked down at the trembling manager on the floor.

"Now," Zhengyu added, his voice dropping into a cold, dangerous whisper, "let us see how Second Uncle explains this to Grandmother."

Zhengyu leaned forward in his wheelchair, his dark, sharp eyes locking onto Manager Zhao like a predator watching its prey. He rested his elbows on his knees, holding Second Uncle Bai Chengbang’s private ledger loosely in one hand.

"Manager Zhao," Zhengyu began, his voice smooth, quiet, and deadly. "You have served my Second Uncle for six years. Tell me... how many years in prison do you think a servant gets for stealing from the main family estate?"

Manager Zhao’s body shook violently against the cold floorboards. "F-First Young Master! I was only following orders! Master Chengbang forced me!"

Zhengyu let out a soft, cold laugh that sent a shiver straight down the manager’s spine.

"Forced you?" Zhengyu asked, tossing the thick stack of bribe receipts onto the floor right in front of Zhao’s face. "The receipts say otherwise. You took a twenty percent cut for every bag of grain you helped him steal. That does not sound like forcing to me. That sounds like greed."

Yimei stepped up beside Zhengyu’s wheelchair, crossing her arms with a small, knowing smile. "My husband is being nice to you, Manager Zhao. In the capital, stealing family property of this size gets a man sent straight to the imperial labor camps. You will break rocks in the frozen mountains until you die."

Manager Zhao’s eyes widened in total horror. Sweat poured down his pale face, mixing with the dust on the floor. "No! Please, Young Master! Mercy!"

Zhengyu tapped his long fingers against the wooden armrest of his wheelchair, his expression turning cold and thoughtful.

"I am a fair man," Zhengyu said slowly, letting the silence heavy up in the room. "If you tell me everything, I might forget to hand you over to the official court. But if you lie to me even once..."

"I will speak! I will tell you everything!" Manager Zhao cried out, bowing his head repeatedly until his forehead slammed against the wood. "What do you want to know?!"

Zhengyu narrowed his eyes. "Start with the First Branch fields. Why have our harvests been dropping every single year for the past three years?"

Manager Zhao swallowed hard, trembling as he spilled the truth. "It... it was not just the diverted water, Young Master! Three years ago, right after you fell ill, Master Chengbang ordered me to mix low-quality, bad seeds into the First Branch’s spring planting supply!"

Yimei’s eyes flashed with anger. "Bad seeds?"

"Yes, Young Madame!" Manager Zhao confessed frantically. "He made us swap the rich wheat seeds for old, cheap seeds that rot easily in wet soil. That is why the First Branch crops kept dying! Then, he bought the good seeds for his own private lands at half price!"

Zhengyu’s jaw tightened, his knuckles turning white as his grip hardened on his chair. "Go on."

"He... he also forced the tenant farmers on your land to pay double taxes!" Manager Zhao added, desperate to save his own skin. "When the poor farmers couldn’t pay, he claimed they were lazy and chased them away, replacing them with his own loyal men! He wanted the First Branch’s lands to look useless so Old Madame Bai would strip your father of his power and hand the whole estate over to the Second Branch!"

Yimei looked at Zhengyu. The picture was completely clear now. The Second Branch hadn’t just been stealing money. they had been systematically destroying the First Branch’s foundation from the ground up, using the farm estate as their main weapon.

"Is that all?" Yimei asked, her voice dangerously calm. "Or is there something else you are hiding about Second Uncle?"

Manager Zhao hesitated for a split second, looking up at Zhengyu’s icy, unreadable face. The absolute terror in the First Young Master’s eyes broke him completely.

"There is one more thing!" Manager Zhao blurted out, shaking like a leaf. "Master Chengbang has been using the stolen farm profits to secretly buy up debt notes from the local merchants in the East Market! He is trying to take control of the shops near the Prime Minister’s tea house so he can force them to back his son Bai Ruizhe!"

Zhengyu leaned back in his wheelchair, the cold, dangerous edge in his eyes replaced by a calm, calculating light. He had all the pieces of the puzzle now.

"Liu Feng," Zhengyu commanded softly.

Liu Feng stepped forward instantly. "Yes, Young Master?"

"Keep Manager Zhao locked in this study under heavy guard," Zhengyu ordered, his deep voice smooth as steel. "Do not let him speak to anyone, and do not let word reach the Bai estate that we have the ledgers."

"Understood!" Liu Feng bowed.

Zhengyu turned his wheelchair slightly, looking up at Yimei. The dark shadow on his face melted away into a quiet, brilliant focus.

"We have the proof of bad seeds, stolen water, fake taxes, and secret merchant debts," Zhengyu said, a subtle, sharp smirk touching his lips. "It seems our trip to the farm was even more useful than we planned, wife."

Yimei smiled back, her dark eyes sparkling with sharp joy. "So... when do we present our little gift to Grandmother?"