The maids' hearts skipped a beat.
Zheng Qian, however, remained calm. She turned to Cai Yuan: "Go open the door."
Cai Yuan ran over and pulled the door open—but froze slightly.
It wasn't a lowly servant outside. Instead, a tall man stood there.
His brows were slightly furrowed, his expression carried a hint of fierceness, and he was so tall that Cai Yuan had to tilt her head back to see his face.
A wave of pressure hit her instantly. Startled, she instinctively tried to close the door, intending to question him.
But the man pressed his hand against the gate, stopping her.
His grip was strong—Cai Yuan could not push him away.
Panic rising, she said, "Who are you? This is the Marquis' residence. Don't think you can act lawlessly here."
"I am Shiyong from the residence of the First Young Master," the man said flatly, his cold expression like he was hunting for a grievance.
He appeared older than Cai Yuan.
In large households, calling someone "sister" was a sign of respect—a lower-ranked servant addressing a higher-ranking maid.
Yet from Shiyong's tone, it sounded more like an insult.
Cai Yuan's face shifted slightly. She wanted to spit at him, but dared not.
Zheng Qian, holding her cat, stepped forward.
She had met this Shiyong before. He indeed served her eldest brother's residence.
The last time she had visited her brother, she happened to overhear Prince Ancheng, only to be caught by Shiyong.
He was likely a bodyguard, not just a servant.
"Shiyong, what brings you here?" Zheng Qian asked with a gentle smile.
Shiyong's gaze landed first on the red beauty mark between her brows, a mark reminiscent of the "jade maiden" near the Guanyin Bodhisattva in paintings.
He became noticeably more respectful, lowering his voice, though it still sounded stiff and formal: "Miss, the First Young Master requests your presence at the Western Garden."
Each courtyard in the mansion had its own name displayed on a plaque.
But the First Young Master's residence had none.
Because it lay in the southwestern corner of the estate, everyone simply called it the "Western Garden."
It was the oldest and most dilapidated courtyard in the entire mansion.
It was said that the First Young Master had chosen to live there himself, and it wasn't due to mistreatment from the household staff. He also forbade any renovations.
Though he had a broken leg, as the legitimate eldest son of the Zheng household, he would not be mistreated—even if he didn't inherit the title.
"Does my brother need me for something?" Zheng Qian asked, gently stroking her cat, whose eyes shone with sharp intelligence.
Shiyong's gaze shifted from her beauty mark to the cat in her arms. The cat's piercing look made him flinch, and he finally lowered his head to stare at the ground. "I do not know, sir."
"Return for now. I will change and come shortly. Tell my brother to wait," Zheng Qian instructed.
Shiyong obeyed and turned away. Cai Yuan quickly shut the door.
She patted her chest, exclaiming, "That man is so tall and fierce—it's terrifying! Doesn't the First Young Master have servants? How can he let someone like this roam freely? There are still young ladies here who haven't been married off!"
In large households, adult men usually lived in the outer courtyard.
In this era, men were considered adults only at twenty. Some families married sons at seventeen or eighteen, but most still lived in the inner courtyard with their wives and concubines.
Zheng Qian's eldest brother, Zheng Chi, was twenty-four. If not for his disability, he would not have stayed in the inner courtyard.
"He doesn't come out often. Haven't you all just not seen him before?" Zheng Qian laughed. "He's probably here to protect my brother."
Cai Yuan understood.
It wasn't just protection.
The First Young Master's left leg had been completely severed. Though he used a crutch, he needed assistance in daily life. Only someone strong enough could support him.
Shiyong was likely assigned to care for and protect him.
Cai Yuan nodded, saying no more.
After changing, Zheng Qian took Hong Luan and her cat to the Western Garden.
About five hundred meters from the garden gate stood an artificial rockery with jagged stones.
Previously, Zheng Qian had hidden there to eavesdrop.
At the Western Garden's main gate grew a towering paulownia tree, its canopy vast, said to be over a century old. Beneath it was a small pavilion with stone tables and chairs for tea and chess.
The First Young Master often sat there alone, playing chess against himself.
Passing the pavilion, Zheng Qian glanced at the white jade chessboard and two boxes of chess pieces beside it.
At the Western Garden gate, she signaled Hong Luan to knock.
Soon, the door opened.
This time, a delicate-looking servant boy, around fifteen or sixteen, greeted her with a smile. A small tiger tooth peeked from his grin, making him look lively and friendly.
His name was Yu Zhong.
Shiyong and Yu Zhong were both servants assigned names by her eldest brother—they didn't share their surnames.
"Miss, the Young Master has been waiting. Please come in," Yu Zhong said fluently. He then spotted Zheng Qian's cat and exclaimed, "This cat is so white, and its eyes are like glass—beautiful!"
Zheng Qian loved compliments on her cat. She smiled, patting its head: "Yes, it's very beautiful."
Inside the main room, her eldest brother sat alone.
Without a broken leg, Zheng Chi would have been a tall, imposing man. His features were not too reminiscent of either the Marquis or the Pan family—handsome in his own right.
His eyes betrayed no emotion, neither feigning ease nor disdain for the world. Long accustomed to staying indoors, his skin was pale, contrasting sharply with his dark hair and brows, giving him an eerie presence.
If not for the faint color on his lips, Zheng Qian might have thought him more sculpture than man.
Beside him sat another figure.
Seeing Zheng Qian, he stood and bowed: "Miss."
Zheng Qian returned the gesture: "Your Highness."
This was Prince Ancheng, Xiao Mingyu, the owner behind Zhai Yu Xuan in the capital.
His wealth extended not only in the capital but throughout the country, amassing immense riches.
It was said that the emperor favored this prince more than his own sons—whether true or not, no one knew.
Prince Ancheng was around twenty-four or twenty-five, with gentle, bright eyes that conveyed subtle warmth and emotion.
"It's about the abacus you sent to Zhai Yu Xuan. I've had finer versions made—gold, silver, jade, and ordinary wood—and they're selling well," Xiao Mingyu said with a smile. "In just half a month, the profit already covered the cost. The sales keep growing; they rival my jewelry income. Miss, you've missed out!"
Zheng Qian smiled: "Good wine needs no hidden alley. Without your stores, business skills, and reputation across the lands, my abacus would be worthless. No loss—I've already gained plenty from you."
"Good wine needs no hidden alley?" Prince Ancheng mused. Though simple, it made sense. "You speak amusingly, Miss."
The principle of business was universal: no connections, no matter how good the product, could sell.
Only Zhai Yu Xuan's fame and reach made the abacus sought after. Others copied, followed, or bought wooden versions if they couldn't afford the precious ones.
Thus, the abacus business flourished, bringing steady wealth. If Zheng Qian sold them herself, few would have cared.
Twenty thousand taels—she had already made a fortune.
How much Prince Ancheng earned per day from the abacus was no concern of hers.
"I've come today to seek your advice on something, Miss," Xiao Mingyu continued.
"On what?"