Madam Dai knocked gently on Zheng Qian's door.
"What is it?" Zheng Qian asked.
"Young lady, the monthly allowance has been distributed," Madam Dai replied cautiously.
Zheng Qian opened the door.
Madam Dai handed back the remaining silver.
A glance revealed that Madam Dai had only taken five taels for herself, leaving the doubled subsidy from last time and the bonus untouched.
Zheng Qian only distributed the allowance and bonuses for the maids and laboring women.
"Mother, you're short by twenty taels," Zheng Qian said.
Madam Dai placed the tray on the table. "Young lady, now that we finally have money, we should spend it wisely. I am your wet nurse, dependent on you my entire life—why would I need private funds?"
Madam Dai had entered the household as a wet nurse, and her own child had died at age two due to poor health and lack of care. Her husband later passed, leaving her with no family support, so she stayed in the mansion.
When Zheng Qian eventually married, Madam Dai would follow her as her personal attendant.
Her earlier anger stemmed from worry for Zheng Qian.
Like Hong Luan, she cared for the young lady deeply, showing it through stern words.
"These banknotes, young lady, you must keep for yourself. Do not give them to the old madam or the marquis by mistake. I know you are filial, but you must also plan for yourself. You will soon leave the mansion, and there won't be many days left here. If you keep the money, life will be easier. Servants can be opportunistic; wealth makes a difference. By enduring now and marrying into the Wen family, you will have a solid financial base and will not be belittled," Madam Dai said sincerely.
Her advice was practical, not moralistic—she always thought for Zheng Qian.
Zheng Qian knew this wet nurse genuinely cared for her.
The original young lady had been living miserably with such loyal attendants. Why had she allowed herself to suffer so much?
Was she only focused on what she couldn't have?
The Marquis didn't favor her, so she tried to act out; the old madam didn't care for her, so she served diligently; her cousin ignored her, so she tried to please him. In the end, all her efforts were wasted, leaving her ridiculed.
Why?
Why act so servile?
Zheng Qian refused to ingratiate herself like that.
"Even if I speak selfishly, young lady, don't be upset," Madam Dai added, suspecting Zheng Qian might ignore her.
Zheng Qian smiled. "I hear you, Mother. Don't worry, I won't give the money away. We'll live well for ourselves. As for Father and the old madam, no matter how much I give them, they'll only see me as a fool, using my money to clothe and adorn second sister—they'll never think highly of me."
Madam Dai stared, astonished.
She hadn't expected the young lady to come to such understanding.
Tears welled in Madam Dai's eyes. If the young lady had realized this sooner, her life would have been so much better.
From the moment Zheng Qian refused to apologize to second sister, Madam Dai noticed she was different.
There was hope for those who truly cared for her.
After Madam Dai left, Zheng Qian gently patted Ah Chou's head and smiled.
"Ah Chou, this isn't over. Believe me?" she whispered. "Twenty thousand taels—imagine how many people will envy it."
The cat rested its paw on her hand, as if comforting her.
"They'll drool over it, but no one will take my money," she said with a mischievous smile. "It'll be fun to watch their faces."
Her eyes curved in a playful, scheming grin.
The cat stared intently, noticing her cunning. She was no longer the girl who had cried by the river.
That girl's eyes had been full of sorrow; now, she was fire incarnate, radiating life and courage in every subtle expression.
Calm, brave, and full of vitality.
The cat held its breath slightly, unblinking.
Perhaps too focused, she leaned down and kissed the cat softly.
The cat's spine tensed involuntarily—an instinctive response.
Was it joy or protest? It meowed at her, uncertain.
She laughed. "Ah Chou, you're so cute. Do you like me?"
The cat meowed again.
Zheng Qian happily hugged it and kissed it. "You understand me. I like you too. Ah Chou, you're a good boy!"
The cat suddenly pawed at her face, emitting a soft hissing sound.
Not hard enough to hurt.
She paused, then held its paw. It didn't extend claws, only using its pads to tap her—playing.
The hissing was a playful warning.
In high spirits, Zheng Qian rolled onto the bed with Ah Chou. "Ungrateful child, hitting your mother—you'd better watch out!"
She lifted and dropped the cat repeatedly, playing gleefully.
The cat purred, meowed coquettishly, showing contentment.
The girl and cat played happily before taking their afternoon nap.
The cat rested on her lower abdomen, eyes half-closed, completely relaxed.
It even dreamed.
It dreamt of the riverbank—the beauty mark between the girl's brows glowed like a flame in the sunlight.
Bright and warm, she called to him: "Come, call me mother."
The cat purred softly, a mix of defiance and helplessness.
Zheng Qian also slept soundly.
But in the Jing'an Marquis Mansion, many people were far from peaceful—especially the second lady, Zheng Yutan.