The flower hall of Marquis Jing'an's residence was packed.
Almost every master of the household had arrived, and even the more prominent servants crowded into the courtyard, craning their necks for a better view.
A servant had already been sent to the entrance of the West Courtyard, waiting to see how the Eldest Young Master would be carried out—no doubt lifted by Shi Yong and Yu Zhong—before reporting back.
"Your Highness is early today," Third Young Master Zheng Hao said with a grin, chatting leisurely with Xiao Mingyu.
Xiao Mingyu patted his chest with a half-smile."I'm carrying eighty-four thousand taels of your household's silver notes—how would I dare arrive late? If I did, you might think I ran off with them."
Zheng Hao burst into laughter, clearly in high spirits, thoroughly enjoying the joke.
Compared to the Zheng family's confidence, Xiao Mingyu, however, felt a trace of unease. He wasn't sure how he would face Zheng Qian later.
His gaze swept the room. The second branch of the family hadn't shown up at all. Even that reckless Fifth Young Master was missing.
As the appointed hour approached, Marquis Jing'an cleared his throat lightly.
"It's about time. Send someone to fetch the Eldest Young Master."
"Fetch," of course, meant carry.
At that moment, the servant stationed at the West Courtyard came stumbling in, his face deathly pale.
"Y-young Master…"
Zheng Hao frowned. "Did you see a ghost?"
"Third Brother, why is your servant so flustered?" Zheng Yutan laughed softly from the side.
The servant's lips trembled, his face drenched in sweat."Young Master… something's wrong."
Everyone was puzzled.
What could possibly go wrong in a guaranteed win?
Had the Eldest Young Master died? Or had Zheng Qian run out of options and tried to kill herself again?
"Slap yourself. What do you mean 'something's wrong'?" Zheng Hao snapped.
The servant immediately struck his own face, about to speak again—when another servant rushed in, this time heading straight for the Marquis.
"Marquis! The Eldest Young Master—he's here! He's here!"
"He's here, so what?" the Marquis replied calmly.
Zheng Chi was supposed to come. Without him, the matter couldn't conclude.
"Why didn't you go receive him? Why run back in such a panic?" the Marquis said, displeased.
The servant gulped a breath, then blurted out:
"Marquis… the Eldest Young Master walked here! He walked out of the West Courtyard!"
"What?!"
The words exploded like thunder in everyone's ears.
For a moment, no one could even process what they had heard.
Walked?
His left leg had been completely severed. How could he walk? If it were with crutches, the servant wouldn't be this shocked.
Unless—
No.
Impossible.
Almost instinctively, everyone crushed that thought before it could fully form.
Zheng Qian wasn't a deity. There was no way she could heal him—let alone in three days.
"What's going on?" The Marquis stood up abruptly.
The previously noisy courtyard suddenly fell into dead silence.
Then—someone screamed:
"Eldest Young Master!"
Everyone rushed outside.
The courtyard gates opened.
A tall figure in a plain cyan summer robe stepped in slowly.
His gait was slightly uneven—but steady. Step by step, he walked toward them.
Under the blazing summer sun, it felt as though icy water had been poured over everyone in the Marquis' residence. A chill ran through their bones.
He… walked in.
No crutches.
No support.
Just like someone with a minor limp—he walked in, steady and real.
How… was that possible?
Masters and servants alike stood frozen, staring in utter disbelief.
Xiao Mingyu was the last to step out.
Even someone as worldly as the Prince of Ancheng felt his vision shake violently, as if his eyes might burst from their sockets.
What was he seeing?
Had he thought about this matter so much that he was dreaming?
He pinched his palm hard.
Pain shot through him. The blazing sun scorched his skin. Cicadas screamed in the trees.
This was real.
But if it was real—then what was this?
A man whose leg had been severed… walking here without crutches?
That was more absurd than any dream.
"Im-Impossible!" Zheng Hao's handsome face was drained of color, twisted in shock. He could only repeat the same words, over and over.
Impossible.
No one could do this. No one.
"Y-you… are you Chi'er?" Old Madam's voice trembled, as if she had seen a ghost.
"You… your leg…" Even the Marquis couldn't form a complete sentence.
Zheng Chi walked all the way in. Whether from excitement or the heat, his face was flushed, giving him a rare hint of vitality.
His expression remained calm—but the tension in his eyes had loosened.
He casually lifted his trouser leg.
"Father, Eldest Sister made me a prosthetic leg. I'm here to prove her bet."
Behind him stood Zheng Qian.
Dressed in purple, holding a snow-white cat, she looked almost surreal.
Under the sunlight, the cat's eyes gleamed gold and green, sharp and chilling.
And Zheng Qian—paired with the crimson mole on her brow—looked like a Bodhisattva who had wandered into the realm of ghosts: alluring, yet terrifying.
Zheng Yutan instinctively took a step back.
Zheng Qian smiled faintly and stepped forward.
"Father, I've returned you a whole son."
"Grandmother, now that Eldest Brother can walk again, you must be very pleased, yes?"
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Xiao Mingyu couldn't help but think:
What a vicious woman.
Not only had she won—completely—but she had forced them to be grateful.
Could the Marquis dare say he wasn't happy his son could walk again?
Could Old Madam dare say she felt no joy?
Could Third Madam or Zheng Hao dare wish for Zheng Chi to remain crippled?
This was a great blessing.
And yet—
It was also a trap.
Zheng Yutan stood under the blazing sun, yet her entire body felt ice-cold.
Monster… Zheng Qian has become a monster.
No one knew what to say.
Everyone stood there, stunned.
Finally, Xiao Mingyu stepped forward, fulfilling his role as witness.
He spoke with deliberate emphasis:
"He stands firm. He walks freely. Truly unheard of. Miss Zheng's medical skill is extraordinary—nothing short of miraculous."
Zheng Qian lowered her gaze slightly."Just a clever trick, not true medicine. Your Highness flatters me."
Yet her chin lifted ever so slightly—pride unmistakable.
Xiao Mingyu smiled and turned to Zheng Chi.
"Brother Zheng, your recovery is truly a blessing."
Zheng Chi gave a small nod.
Xiao Mingyu continued:
"The wager still stands. Everyone remembers the terms, I presume? Light the incense. The Eldest Young Master will walk for a full quarter-hour."
Servants began whispering among themselves.
The masters stood pale-faced.
Even Old Madam could only think of her lost ten thousand taels—her heart bleeding.
Before everyone's eyes, Zheng Chi walked.
Up the steps.
Down the steps.
Across the courtyard.
Along the corridors.
He even broke into a short run.
The whispers grew louder.
A quarter-hour later—
The outcome was undeniable.
Xiao Mingyu turned to the Marquis with a polite smile.
"Marquis, may we now conclude the wager?"
The Marquis clenched his teeth, saying nothing.
Xiao Mingyu didn't wait.
In front of everyone, he announced:
"Zheng Qian wins."
He personally handed over the eighty-four thousand taels of silver notes.
At that moment—
Some people's eyes nearly bled with resentment.
Zheng Qian had carved into every one of their hearts.
And as she looked at their expressions, a surge of satisfaction rose within her.
I've reclaimed this for you, Zheng Qian…
All the humiliation you suffered in this household—now, it's been repaid.