As soon as Emily heard the unmistakable hum of the car engine, she instinctively turned toward the garage.
Five seconds later, a Rolls-Royce rolled out smoothly.
Though she couldn't see inside, she knew exactly who was driving.
It was a routine they'd fallen into over the years: while she worked, Alexander went to work. Their understanding of each other was unspoken, yet firm.
After clearing the snow from the garden, Emily returned to the main house, holding the untouched breakfast she'd set aside. She walked deeper into the garden, her feet crunching in the fresh snow.
The trees, now in their winter dormancy, stood bare and lifeless, the landscape around her muted and pale. Even the solitary wooden cabin looked desolate, its roof weighed down with thick snow, giving it an almost abandoned feel.
She pushed open the door to the cabin, stepping inside.
There, at the head of the bed, was Ma Yixuan, bundled tightly in a thick quilt, absorbed in his mobile game.
The room felt warmer than the last time she had been here—thanks to the five electric heaters now scattered around the room.
"Yixuan, were these heaters bought by your mother?" she asked, her eyes scanning the heaters with curiosity.
"No," he replied, his attention still fixed on the screen.
"Then who...?" Emily furrowed her brow, confused. Could anyone else have bought them for him, aside from his mother or the housekeeper?
"My handsome brother bought them for me," Ma Yixuan said, beaming proudly.
"Really?" Emily was taken aback.
She'd never imagined Alexander would do something like this for him. After all, he had always been distant with Ma Yixuan, almost indifferent. It struck her as odd—perhaps even a little sneaky—that he would show such care in private.
She had thought she was the only one who showed any real concern for Ma Yixuan in this house. But now, it seemed she was wrong.
"Beautiful sister, what did you bring me to eat?" Ma Yixuan's nose twitched at the smell, and without missing a beat, he tossed his phone aside, jumped off the bed, and hurried over to Emily.
"Sandwich and steak," Emily said, handing him the breakfast she had prepared.
"Thank you, beautiful sister!" Ma Yixuan sat down eagerly on the edge of the bed, devouring his food without a hint of decorum.
Emily watched him with a smile of relief.
Ma Yixuan, though twenty-eight years old, had the mentality of a five-year-old child. This wasn't due to a congenital condition, but the result of a fall down the stairs as a child.
She had heard about it from the servants over time.
The housekeeper, Ma, didn't like her son. Neither did Emily's mother-in-law, who had insisted on Ma Yixuan being placed in this cabin away from the main house.
Lu Qianqian, in particular, would often come by to taunt him, calling him "an idiot." Emily couldn't help but feel a kinship with him; they both were outcasts in the Lu family. So, over the past two years, she had made it a point to look after him.
"Mom, you finally came to see me!" Ma Yixuan's face lit up with excitement. He tossed his breakfast aside and dashed toward the door, a wide, foolish grin on his face.
"Mom?" Emily spun around and froze.
The housekeeper, Ma, was standing there in the doorway, her expression as cold as ever.
Her presence was unsettling, her frown deepening the already tense atmosphere. It was as if someone owed her millions.
"Young Madam, please refrain from coming here unless absolutely necessary. It's beneath your dignity," Butler Ma said coldly, deliberately emphasizing the word "you."
Emily opened her mouth, about to respond, but she couldn't find the words.
Butler Ma rarely visited Ma Yixuan. She barely even acknowledged him, and yet here she was, standing at the door with an attitude that felt more like an accusation.
Without another word, Butler Ma shoved Ma Yixuan away as he tried to hug her. She turned her icy gaze back to Emily.
"Please go back to the main house, Madam," Butler Ma said with a finality that made Emily feel small.
She bit her lower lip and cast one last glance at Ma Yixuan before silently leaving the cabin.
A feeling of dread gnawed at her as she stepped outside. She had never quite figured out why, but something about Butler Ma made her uneasy—like she was dealing with a dangerous person, someone with a hidden agenda.
"Mom, mom, what did you bring me to eat?" Ma Yixuan whined, his face full of anticipation as he eyed the bread in Butler Ma's hand.
"You fool," Butler Ma snapped, her patience clearly worn thin. "All you ever do is eat. You're going to eat yourself to death!"
She threw the bread at him with disgust, and, without warning, slapped him hard on the head.
"Mom, wuwuwu, please don't hit me! What did I do wrong?" Ma Yixuan's voice quivered with distress as he slowly crawled to the corner, his face a picture of helplessness.
For the past twenty-eight years, this had been his reality—either being scolded or beaten. But despite everything, he still loved her. She was his mother, after all.
"You were born to offend me!" Butler Ma snarled, grabbing his hair and forcing him to look up. "Listen carefully: stay away from the young mistress. Don't go near the main house and don't ask for things that don't belong to you. Otherwise, I'll throw you out of here for good."
"No, Mom! I don't want to leave you!" Ma Yixuan pleaded, his arms wrapped around her legs in desperation, tears and snot streaming down his face.
Butler Ma's face softened, just for a moment, before she kicked him away. As she prepared to leave, she tossed him the phone Alexander had bought for him and locked the door behind her.
"Mom, don't lock me in!" Ma Yixuan's cries echoed from inside the cabin as he banged on the door.
Butler Ma ignored him, walking briskly toward the main house.
The garden was isolated, far from the main house, and Ma Yixuan's cries were soon swallowed up by the distance, unheard by anyone.
No matter how loud he screamed, it was all in vain.
Back at the main house, Emily was in the middle of washing and drying Lu Qianqian's expensive dress.
As she ironed it, her eyelids began to droop. The constant strain of her work, combined with the exhaustion of the day, weighed heavily on her.
Her hand lingered on the sleeve of the dress, the iron still pressing down when her mind began to drift.
Before she realized it, her eyelids fluttered shut.
"Luo Aiqin! What is that smell?!"
Lu Qianqian's shrill voice cut through the air. Emily jolted awake, startled, and looked up to find her dress smoking.
"Oh my God!" Lu Qianqian shrieked, rushing into the laundry room. She shoved Emily aside and grabbed the iron from her hand.
The sleeve of her dress was now a charred ruin, a large hole burned through it.
"Qianqian, what happened?" Emily asked, confused, still trying to shake off the sleepiness.
"What happened? Can't you see?!" Lu Qianqian screeched, her voice high-pitched with fury. She threw the ruined dress at Emily.
Emily inspected the dress, shocked to see the damage. The iron had stayed on too long—she must have forgotten to turn it off as she fell asleep.
"I… I didn't mean to," Emily stammered, feeling guilty.
"Does a simple apology fix this?!" Lu Qianqian's voice rose, sharp and angry. "I paid a million for this dress, and now look at it! You ruined it before I even wore it!"
In a fit of rage, Lu Qianqian grabbed the iron and lunged toward Emily, aiming it directly at her face.
"I want double the compensation for this!"
"Please, no—" Emily raised her hands instinctively to shield her face.
The iron landed hard on the back of her hand, the pain searing through her skin as she let out a cry of agony.