The man’s body temperature was always high, like a furnace warming her body, unlike now, where both the bed and her hands and feet are icy cold, unable to radiate any warmth.

Avery Jane didn’t know how long it took for her to fall asleep, only that at dawn, the sharp alarm clock in the room pierced through her pale dreams. She gritted her teeth and climbed out of the barely warm bed, quickly washing her face with cold water, forcing herself to be more alert.

Then she put on the servant uniform, her long hair familiarly tied at the back of her head, and headed to the kitchen.

The kitchen of the Hughes Manor was very large, with three chefs: one specializing in Chinese cuisine, one in Western, and another for desserts. Each chef was assigned two assistants.

Additionally, there were a few older servants responsible for the basic cleaning of food ingredients and tidying up the tableware.

Avery stood there feeling a bit lost, unsure of what she should do. "Go wash those vegetables, clean them thoroughly."

A woman who appeared to be in charge of the kitchen directed her, pointing to two baskets on the ground, still with some dirt, dew-laden and fresh.

Avery hurried over, pulling the baskets to the washing sink, turning on the tap. The water was bone-chilling cold, as it was spring water from the mountain, the Hughes Family connected the mountain spring. Her fingers shivered from the cold water’s stimulation.

She feared the cold, feared all cold things. She didn’t even like to drink cold drinks or eat ice cream. Avery took a small inhaled breath and with determination started washing.

There were many rules for washing vegetables: how many times to wash, how long to soak, and how to pick them, the older maid explained beside her.

"After washing, divide them into two baskets. The most tender parts are for the young master and Miss Evelyn, the rest are for us servants to eat."

Avery looked at the two baskets full of vegetables. This man was truly wasteful; he only ate the innermost, tenderest parts.

All morning, her hands were almost exclusively soaked in icy water. By the time those baskets were washed, her whitened delicate fingers were nearly transformed into small carrots, red and swollen.

Those vegetables were prepared for lunch.

Even if Joshua Hughes wasn’t coming back for a meal, even if Evelyn was the only one eating, it still required such a lavish spread; the Hughes Family’s grandeur couldn’t be small.

Now she could understand why, when she lived on the top floor for the past few days, servants would bring up two tables at noon, with an array of dishes that dazzled the eyes.

So, so much preparation work had to be done in the kitchen beforehand.

The whole day’s work made her body feel like it was falling apart. Returning to her room, her fingers were frozen out of commission, feeling as if they were about to crack.

She gently soaked her hands in warm water, the sudden sting making her inhale sharply, silently, the originally delicate skin had become red, probably would crack by tomorrow, the water for washing vegetables in this weather was really too cold.

After soaking in warm water for a while, her hands gradually regained feeling. Sitting on her bed, she lightly applied some olive oil she brought from the kitchen to her hands.

Although the work was draining, her heart was always steady.

Because there was hope, such hope felt like wings growing, pure white feathered sacred wings.

A heart yearning for freedom felt like sunlight breaking through the gloom, making all the suffering and waiting worthwhile; only the most painful sweat could cultivate the most beautiful flowers.

Her heart was like a garden, slowly blooming under the sunlight, making her feel sweet and fragrant.

Just a few more days, Nora Thompson told her just a few more days, she would go to another country where the sun shone bright, where she could start over, continue her studies, work like a normal person.

She could walk beneath the sun, upright and free without fear of others pointing fingers, without bearing the name of Fox Spirit and homewrecker.

She wanted to be the strongest little flower blooming against the wind, not a delicate bloom in a greenhouse, dying slowly without care.

Lying in bed, in such a humid and cold room, she curled herself tightly into a ball, seeming to gain more warmth that way.

Maybe after a day’s work, she was truly tired. Dreaming of fantasies, she drifted into deep sleep.

The winter night’s wind cut like icy blades on the face, stinging painfully; year-end engagements were always inevitable.

Perhaps because of the irritation, although not feeling she drank much, she already felt drunk.

Joshua Hughes reeked of alcohol, entering the living room.

The housekeeper was waiting at the entrance of the living room from the moment he entered the courtyard.

He was not unobservant, having served the Hughes Manor for many years, counting as the housekeeper for three generations, yet Master Joshua was the coldest and hardest to read.

He cared about Miss Jane, even overseeing her meals personally. Yet he didn’t know why Miss Jane had angered him, now making things difficult, fearing Miss Jane’s delicate constitution couldn’t handle it.

If not allowed to work, but the master had already ordered, she mustn’t idle.

Even with the desire to let things go, Miss Evelyn was still there.

She was likely to be the future lady of the Hughes Family; secretly helping Miss Jane could bring disaster.

So he could only assign kitchen chores to Miss Jane, thinking it was somewhat better. But today, sneaking a look, her hands were swollen. Tomorrow, he had to subtly find a way to change her task.

"Where is her room?" Joshua’s eyes were blood-red, having been restless all day, never before having such emotions.