Zheng Qian's cat moved lightly, racing back to Huining Courtyard. Only later did Zheng Qian and Caiyuan arrive.
Seeing Zheng Qian covered in grime, Dai Mama gasped in shock: "Miss, what on earth have you—"
"Don't ask. Bring me water for a bath," Zheng Qian said.
Dai Mama complied.
Hot water wasn't immediately available, so Zheng Qian returned to her room and removed her outer robe. Fortunately, it was early May and not cold.
She wore her undergarments and loose pants, and had Caiyuan brush out her hair.
Caiyuan called to Xiuzhu and Hongluan: "Xiuzhu, Hongluan, go help fetch water! Miss needs a bath immediately; I'll brush her hair."
The two maids thought that sounded like a good idea and left.
Once they were gone, Caiyuan carefully closed the door and whispered to Zheng Qian: "Miss… the box I brought you—it was empty…"
"Shh," Zheng Qian smiled. "Don't mention it."
"But—"
"Aren't immortals supposed to be able to create whatever they like? Maybe… I'm an immortal," Zheng Qian said.
Caiyuan's knees went weak; instinctively, she wanted to kneel.
Zheng Qian noticed and laughed: "Don't be so hasty! Even if you kneel, I won't bless you."
Caiyuan: "…"
She had no idea which of her mistress' words were serious and which were jest.
All she knew was that she had handed over an empty box, and yet her young mistress kept pulling items out of it—things she had never seen before.
It was both shocking and magical.
"Only you and I know about this. Heaven and Earth know too, alright? From now on, this box is under your care—get a small lock for it," Zheng Qian winked at her.
Caiyuan felt a strange sense of awe and responsibility. As a maid, unconditional trust in her mistress was expected.
Sure enough, Caiyuan fetched a small key and locked the box. Even Xiuzhu and Hongluan wouldn't be told—this was a secret only she and her mistress shared, beyond the bounds of ordinary reality.
A short while later, the hot water arrived.
Zheng Qian went to bathe, noticing that her usually clinging cat had slipped away. She realized today, as always, that whenever she bathed, the cat disappeared somewhere.
By the time she finished, it mysteriously reappeared.
"Is it trying to avoid me?" Zheng Qian wondered aloud.
She often joked that her cat had become a spirit. If it really had, wouldn't it scare her to death?
But she was a super-powered traveler with a personal terminal and space—she should be the calmest about a mystical cat. After all, her very existence defied normal logic. If she was extraordinary, why not the cat too?
"Kind of fun," she thought.
Curious, she called from the bath: "Achou?"
No response the first time.
She called again.
This time, the tiles on the roof shifted slightly, and the cat's nimble paws appeared. A shadow landed on the windowsill, and it meowed, acknowledging her call.
Zheng Qian laughed: "Achou, come in. Caiyuan, open the window and let him inside."
Caiyuan obeyed.
The cat, perched on the sill, leapt to the ground under the begonia tree, its mismatched eyes—one yellow, one green—glinting gold in the sunlight, giving it a striking presence. Its fur had grown long and pure white. It bared its teeth at Caiyuan.
If Caiyuan dared to pick it up, it would scratch her. This cat was obedient and sweet to its mistress, but fierce and domineering to servants—not a soft, cuddly pet.
"Miss, the cat's afraid of water. It won't come in," Caiyuan said helplessly.
Zheng Qian stretched her neck: "Achou, come on in! Mama will wash you."
"Meow!" The cat's protest was loud and angry. It leapt up to a branch, then onto the wall, and dashed away.
Caiyuan panicked: "Achou! Miss, Achou ran off!"
"No problem. He knows the way," Zheng Qian said. "Let him play. He'll come back soon."
After bathing, Zheng Qian changed into clean clothes. The maids helped wring out her hair. She sat on the kang by the window, casually reading a book, when something nudged the window.
Looking up, she saw her cat pushing the latch open, leaping onto her lap, rubbing against her hands.
Zheng Qian gently stroked its fur and scratched its chin. The cat purred contentedly, rolling onto its back, ready to nap.
"Achou is so interesting… so delightful," Zheng Qian laughed.
She often praised him—calling him beautiful, clever, obedient, and adorable, and that she liked him very much.
Xiao Zhan had never heard such sweet words.
He was the son of Empress Qi, the emperor's late-in-life child. Typically, late-born princes were doted upon, but the emperor worried about his future standing and treated him harshly.
Empress Dowager Qi was power-hungry and strict.
Royal princes grew up in the prince's residence with four wet nurses, four palace maids, and eight eunuchs, only visiting their mother in the inner palace twice a month.
Xiao Zhan, always sensitive, had felt his mother's affection less sincere than that given to the parrot under her eaves. Meetings were formal, not warm.
At fourteen, he was granted his own fief, becoming Prince Rui, with lands and gold.
He never lived in it fully, and by fifteen, the emperor passed.
Royal mourning lasted twenty-seven days—not twenty-seven months like in common households.
Afterward, he went to Baiya Town to begin his military career, occasionally returning to report, sometimes staying briefly in the palace at the Empress Dowager's request.
In nine years, he never spent ninety full days in his own residence. For him, it remained a strange place.
The capital should have been home, yet he found it cold and distant, preferring Baiya Town.
His life had been shaped by a harsh father, a hypocritical mother, and a strict mentor. No one had praised, encouraged, or cared for him.
As a man, he felt he didn't need it.
Yet now, Zheng Qian did it.
Even if her warmth was directed at a cat, it felt unprecedentedly comforting.
He stretched, letting her gentle fingers stroke his fur. Her soft voice praised him.
Zheng Qian truly liked him.
No one had ever loved him so freely, without expectation of return.
Xiao Zhan squinted slightly, seeing her content expression reflected in the cat's eyes.
Her hair flowed freely, sunlight kissed her face, eyelashes catching golden light.
The quiet, lazy afternoon indoors felt like paradise.