YWTGU -Chapter 68 This Is Clearly “Red Sleeves Adding Fragrance” and a Beauty Hidden in a Golden House!

Seven days in a row.

Li An truly felt that in both his lifetimes, he had never worked this hard.

In his previous life, when he worked overtime at the company, at worst he would stare at the computer screen until he felt dizzy and his vision blurred, then go home and collapse into bed.

Although he eventually died suddenly at his office desk, at least there had been fixed working hours—clocking in and clocking out.

But now?

During the day, he stood watch at the construction sites, overseeing thousands upon thousands of workers swinging hammers and digging canals. He had to make sure every single post had food distributed and wages paid.

At night, after returning to the Zhuangyuan Residence, he still had to face account books piled into small mountains.

Which trading firms’ debts should be cleared first…

How to write off the bad accounts from certain money houses…

The thirty-day redemption buffer for the Tongbao notes had already passed five days—how many had been redeemed, how many remained, and whether the national treasury had enough silver to cover the shortfall…

Every single item was numbers. Endless numbers.

And yet, seated beside him was someone working even harder than he was.

Liu Wanqing.

No one knew what had gotten into this girl. Ever since she delivered five hundred thousand taels of gold on the day the economy collapsed, she had not returned to the Duke’s residence.

By day, she helped Li An coordinate loss reports from the various trading houses, verifying the actual losses of each shop one by one.

By night, she helped him organize post-crisis plans, listing every expenditure clearly and meticulously.

Her handwriting was at least ten times prettier than Li An’s.

And she could handle an abacus faster than those seasoned veterans in the Ministry of Revenue.

Sometimes when Li An looked up at her, he felt a little dazed.

Was this really the same young lady whom her father—the Duke—had sent over to use a beauty scheme?

When Jin Daya walked in carrying a plate of melon seeds, this was the scene he saw:

Li An buried in writing.
Liu Wanqing buried in her abacus.

The two sat facing each other, a small mountain of account books between them.

“Sir.”

Jin Daya leaned against the doorframe, cracking melon seeds, his expression extremely subtle.

“You say you’re saving the nation?”

“Hm?” Li An didn’t even lift his head.

“This is clearly red sleeves adding fragrance and hiding a beauty in a golden house.”

“Get lost.”

“Heh heh.”

Jin Daya grinned, revealing his two signature gold teeth.

“I’m just telling the truth.”

He winked at Liu Wanqing.

“Miss Liu, you’ve been staying here nearly a week. Hasn’t the Duke urged you to return?”

Liu Wanqing’s expression did not change. Her abacus beads clattered crisply.

“He has.”

“And?”

“I said I was auditing accounts.”

“For a whole week?”

“The accounts of Great Qi are numerous.”

Jin Daya was about to continue when a writing brush flew past his ear.

“Get out before I send you to repair the city walls,” Li An said coldly.

“I’m going! I’m going!”

Jin Daya slipped out grinning. At the doorway, he even turned back and gave a thumbs-up toward the study.

No one knew who it was meant for.

“Sir, Shopkeeper Li from the West City grain store says he still holds Tongbao notes worth thirty thousand taels. He wants to redeem them at sixty percent.”

Liu Wanqing didn’t even look up, her brush moving swiftly across paper as if the earlier exchange had never happened.

“Tell him eighty percent. Not a single fraction less.”

Li An rubbed his sore eyes.

“The court said eighty percent redemption, so it’s eighty percent. Anyone who privately lowers the rate is undermining the foundation of the court’s market rescue.”

“Understood.”

She added another entry to the ledger.

“And what about the Tongji Money House branch in South City? A group tried to smash the counters yesterday.”

“Jin Daya handled it.”

Li An picked up his teacup and took a sip—only to find the tea long gone cold.

“He brought thirty men. Said they were protecting the money house’s property.”

“Thirty? Isn’t that too many?”

“Not at all.”

Li An gave a bitter smile.

“Do you know how he ‘protected’ it? He had all thirty men line up in front of the counter—each depositing one tael of silver.”

“Depositing money?”

“Yes. Thirty people lining up to deposit money. The citizens queuing behind to cause trouble saw that and thought—oh, so many people are depositing? The money house must still be reliable.”

“And then?”

“Then the troublemakers dispersed on their own. After depositing, those thirty taels were withdrawn. Then deposited again. Back and forth all afternoon.”

Liu Wanqing’s eyes widened. That could actually work?

“What do you call that?”

“Shills,” Li An said with a grin. “In modern—cough—folk terminology, it’s called ‘guiding market confidence.’”

Liu Wanqing finally burst out laughing.

Under the candlelight, her smile was especially beautiful.

Her eyes curved like willow branches budding in spring.

Li An glanced at her—then quickly lowered his gaze back to the account book.

Don’t look.

If he kept looking, something would happen.

Ding!

【Work-for-relief Day Five Progress Report: City wall repairs 18%, canal excavation 12%】

【Capital unemployment rate down 23%, refugee resettlement rate 67%】

【Public morale index steadily recovering】

【National Fortune +400】

【Current National Fortune: 184,971】

Another four hundred gained.

Not much—but it rose every day.

Which meant the path was correct.

On the ninth night.

Only Li An and Liu Wanqing remained in the study of Zhuangyuan Residence.

Jin Daya had been dismissed long ago.

Hongmei had gone out early, saying she had matters to attend to.

The courtyard was quiet; only crickets chirped.

Li An lay slumped over the desk, brush in hand, eyelids drooping.

Before him was Article Thirty-Seven of the Implementation Guidelines for the “Abolish Notes, Promote Silver Decree”—a route plan for grain distribution to remote areas.

It was more sleep-inducing than his university thesis had ever been.

“Finished?”

Liu Wanqing entered carrying a steaming bowl of ginseng soup.

“No.”

Li An weakly lifted a hand.

“Five more clauses.”

“Rest for a bit first.”

She set the soup down and sat opposite him.

“You haven’t properly slept in nine days. At this rate, you’ll ruin your body.”

“I won’t.”

He gulped the soup. Warmth slid down his throat to his stomach, and he felt alive again.

“Just three more days. Once the first phase of the work-for-relief projects is fully launched, things will smooth out.”

“Three days?”

She frowned.

“You said ‘just three more days’ last time too.”

“…”

Fair enough.

He himself had lost count of how many “just three more days” he had endured.

Before transmigrating, it was 996.

After transmigrating, it was 007.

Sure enough—no matter the era, workers could not escape overtime.

“Li An.”

She suddenly called him by name. Not “Sir.”

He looked up.

The candlelight illuminated her face.

Her eyes were slightly red.

“Do you want to die?”

Her voice trembled.

Not accusation.

Concern.

Li An didn’t speak immediately.

From the exposition to the economic collapse. From five hundred thousand taels of gold to nine sleepless days and nights.

She hadn’t taken a single step back.

Honestly, in this absurd ancient world where he could lose his head at any time…

To have someone care for him like this—

His heart truly felt warm.

Not lust.

Real warmth.

The kind of unconditional trust and devotion he had never experienced in his previous life.

“I’m fine.”

He smiled.

“Really.”

“Liar.”

Her eyes grew redder.

She reached out, using a handkerchief to wipe the sweat from his forehead.

Her fingers were cool when they touched him.

He didn’t dodge.

They looked at each other.

Neither spoke.

Only the candle crackled softly.

Then Li An reached up and took the hand still resting by his forehead.

Liu Wanqing stiffened.

Her hand trembled slightly.

“You…”

“Wanqing.”

He called her name.

Not Miss Liu.

Not Young Lady Liu.

Wanqing.

Tears fell instantly.

“You bastard…”

She choked as she cursed him.

“I tell you to rest, you don’t. I tell you to eat, you don’t. I tell you to sleep, you don’t…”

“And now you know how to hold my hand?”

“Where were you earlier?”

Li An couldn’t help laughing.

“I was busy…”

“Then be busy!”

Her nose reddened with anger.

“If you’re so busy, why are you holding my hand!”

“Should I let go?”

“You dare!”

She tightened her grip around his fingers.

So they sat there, hand in hand.

One crying.

One smiling.

The moon had climbed unnoticed to the treetops.

The crickets sang louder.

Li An gently pulled her closer.

She fell naturally into his embrace.

There were no earth-shaking declarations.

No grand vows of eternal love.

He simply held her.

She simply leaned against him.

Nine days and nights of exhaustion and tension melted away in that moment.

“Li An.”

“Mm?”

“If you dare leave me a widow, I’ll drag you back from the Underworld myself.”

“…Alright. You’re in charge.”

Liu Wanqing let out a muffled laugh in his arms.

Then she closed her eyes.

After a long while—

The two of them fell into a deep sleep together.

In the study, the candle burned shorter and shorter.

The ginseng soup on the table went cold.

Account books lay scattered across the floor.

…

About half an hour later.

Outside the lattice window, a shadow landed silently atop the courtyard wall.

Hongmei.

A rare trace of good mood lingered at the corner of her lips.

The matter she had gone out to handle tonight had gone smoothly. At Blackwater Platform, she had obtained a secret letter from within Northern Yan.

The contents were weighty.

A serious rift had formed between the pro-war and pro-peace factions in Northern Yan’s court.

Though Yelü Xiong had assembled a large army at the frontlines, the Grand Prime Minister in the capital, Helian Jun, was strongly advocating negotiations.

His reasoning:

“Though Great Qi is in internal turmoil, its officials are cunning and treacherous. A rash invasion may repeat past mistakes.”

In other words, Northern Yan’s upper ranks were wary that Great Qi’s internal chaos might be a trap.

Hongmei knew this was exactly the kind of intelligence Li An most wanted right now.

If he could exploit this division, he might resolve Northern Yan’s threat without shedding blood.

She stepped lightly along the wall, then dropped soundlessly before the study window.

Out of habit, she pushed open the half-closed window, about to slip inside—

And then she saw it.

Inside the dim candlelit study.

Li An leaned back in his chair, eyes closed.

Liu Wanqing nestled in his arms, also asleep.

They held each other, breathing evenly and quietly.

Her hair brushed against his chin.
One of his hands rested naturally at her waist.

The scene was so still it looked like a painting.

Hongmei froze completely.

Her mind crashed in that instant.

What secret letter?

What Northern Yan division?

What bloodless resolution?

None of it mattered.

All she felt was her face burning—

From her neck to the tips of her ears.

Her heart felt gripped tightly, pounding wildly.

Retreat.

She had to retreat.

Her body reacted faster than her mind.

She shoved backward with both hands and sprang off the windowsill like a startled cat.

When she landed, she nearly twisted her ankle.

In her entire life, she had never made such a mistake.

A dignified Thousand-Household Commander of Blackwater Platform—falling off a window?

If word got out, her colleagues would laugh for a year.

…

Standing in the shadows outside the courtyard wall, Hongmei didn’t know what to do. She simply leaned against the cold bricks, both hands covering her face.

I didn’t see anything.

I didn’t see anything.

She repeated it to herself.

I am a Thousand-Household Commander of Blackwater Platform.

I was only carrying out surveillance and protection duties for Li An.

That scene just now…

Had nothing to do with me.

Slowly, she lowered her hands.

Deep breath.

Another deep breath.

Then she circled to the main entrance and stood with her back against the doorframe.

She would treat it as night watch duty.

The capital had been unstable these days. The Zhuangyuan Residence required protection.

Yes.

That was it.

Hongmei bit her lip, her gaze drifting toward the dark rooftops in the distance.

The night wind carried a hint of early autumn chill.

But her mind refused to cool down.

That image kept replaying.

Liu Wanqing nestled in Li An’s arms.

His hand resting so naturally at her waist.

The two of them sleeping together without the slightest awkwardness.

Hongmei had never known what the word “happiness” looked like.

She had grown up in Blackwater Platform.

She learned how to kill.

She trained in infiltration.

At twelve, she carried out her first mission.

At fourteen, she saw blood for the first time.

No one had ever held her.

No one had ever allowed her to lean safely into their arms and sleep.

She didn’t even know what it felt like to be cherished.

Not until she met Li An.

That coward.

That smooth-talking, fear-of-death, knife-shaking fool.

Truthfully, she wasn’t unaware of her own feelings.

From the first time he forcibly kissed her in a dream.

From the times she secretly brewed tea for him when he was too exhausted to stand straight.

From the countless reports she altered and intelligence she concealed for his sake.

She had long ceased to be a qualified Thousand-Household Commander.

But so what?

What right did she have?

“Idiot. Rejecting a Northern Yan princess for… this.”

She muttered under her breath.

She didn’t know whether she was scolding Li An—

Or herself.

Perhaps both.

The night deepened. The Zhuangyuan Residence remained quiet.

Hongmei stood there, heart in turmoil, yet motionless.

From the moon high overhead until sunrise.

An entire night.

Several times she considered going inside to deliver the secret letter, interrupting their intimate sleep.

But each time she lifted her foot—

She set it down again.

Forget it.

It could wait one night.

Let him rest.

It wasn’t easy for him to sleep peacefully.

…

When the first rays of morning sunlight filtered in—

The study door creaked open.

Li An stepped out, rubbing his eyes and letting out a huge yawn.

Behind him came Liu Wanqing’s flustered movements—likely fixing her hair and clothing.

Li An looked up and saw Hongmei standing stiffly beside the steps.

Face like frost.

Eyes cold.

Exactly as usual.

As if nothing were amiss.

“Hongmei? When did you get here?”

He rubbed his face and asked casually.

Hongmei stared straight ahead, deliberately not looking at him.

“A quarter of an hour ago.”

“Oh.”

Li An didn’t think much of it and stretched lazily.

“Any news from Blackwater Platform?”

Hongmei pulled a sealed letter from her sleeve and handed it over.

“Yes. Intelligence from Blackwater Platform. Something has changed within Northern Yan.”

Li An unfolded it casually—but as he read, he sobered instantly.

“Yelü Xiong and Helian Jun have fallen out?”

“Yes.”

Hongmei’s voice was cold.

“Helian Jun believes invading Great Qi now is too risky. He openly opposed Yelü Xiong’s southern campaign before the emperor. The two argued in the emperor’s presence. The Northern Yan emperor has not yet declared his stance.”

Li An felt relief surge through him.

This was tremendous news.

Northern Yan was not united.

If the pro-peace faction grew louder, even with eighty thousand troops, Yelü Xiong would not dare act rashly.

He feared rebellion behind his back.

As long as the emperor didn’t decide, Yelü Xiong wouldn’t launch full-scale war.

That bought Great Qi precious time.

“There’s more.”

Hongmei’s tone suddenly deepened.

“Northern Yan’s vanguard scouts have crossed Baima Pass.”

The smile froze on Li An’s face.

“What?”

“Three thousand cavalry crossed Baima Pass at midnight last night. They are advancing toward Great Qi’s interior at high speed.”

Baima Pass.

The first line of defense in Great Qi’s northern frontier.

Crossing it meant Northern Yan wasn’t bluffing.

They were truly going to fight.

Likely fighting while negotiating.

Pressure in front. Peace talks behind.

The classic push-and-pull strategy.

Li An’s mind began racing.

The economy had just begun recovering.

Now the military front was heating up.

Before he could lower one hand, the other had to rise.

“Hongmei.”

“Yes.”

“Go get Jin Daya. And… summon Zhang Tiezhu from the Ministry of Works as well.”

He turned back into the study, swept aside the scattered ledgers, and spread out a sheet of white paper.

Looks like it’s time to put that Zhuge repeating crossbow blueprint to use.

Hongmei acknowledged and turned to leave.

After two steps, she paused.

“And one more thing…”

She hesitated for half a second.

“Miss Liu’s clothes are wrinkled. Tell her to change before coming out.”

Without waiting for his reaction, she vanished into the morning mist.

Li An stood there, slowly processing.

Wait.

What did she say?

Wrinkled clothes?

How did she know Wanqing’s clothes were wrinkled?

Wasn’t she here only “a quarter of an hour ago”?

No, no, no—

That woman…

She didn’t see everything, did she?!

Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.

Hongmei—the vinegar jar.

She must not be feeling too good.

Could it be—

She stood outside all night?