However, at this point, there was no choice but to brace himself and speak.
“Where’s the joke in that? If I say it’s not getting repaired, then it’s not getting repaired. You all just pack up and go back.” Master Zhou forced a dry laugh.
“That wouldn’t be appropriate, would it?” Cheng Jiao-niang said.
“What’s inappropriate about it? If you think that room isn’t good enough, we can swap it for another. You can switch with Qi-niang…” Master Zhou was delighted to hear her speak up and hurriedly responded.
“What do they want with me?” Cheng Jiao-niang suddenly interjected.
“To discuss a marriage proposal.”
Master Zhou had been racking his brain for a way to persuade Cheng Jiao-niang to go back. Hearing her ask about the house, he was overjoyed and focused entirely on that matter. Caught off guard by her question, the words slipped out of his mouth before he could think.
A marriage proposal?
The maid was utterly shocked.
Master Zhou regretted saying it as soon as the words left his mouth. But since it was already out, there was nothing unspeakable about it. After all, wasn’t marriage the ultimate pursuit of all women?
“Jiao Jiao, go home first. Your aunt will explain everything to you in detail. It’s not appropriate to discuss this outside,” he said in a low voice.
Cheng Jiao-niang looked at him.
“How old am I this year?” she asked.
Master Zhou was momentarily stunned. Was there really someone who didn’t know their own age? But thinking about it, it made sense. This foolish girl had spent so many years muddleheaded, unaware of the passing seasons. But… how old was she, exactly?
Master Zhou quickly started calculating in his mind. He couldn’t quite remember when she had been born. He only recalled that when the two families had fallen out, she had been around three years old… or maybe even younger?
Before he could answer, Cheng Jiao-niang nodded to herself.
“It is the age for marriage discussions,” she murmured, almost as if talking to herself. “I had forgotten.”
Master Zhou let out a breath of relief, abandoning his uncertain calculations of whether she was fourteen or fifteen.
“Yes, now that someone has come with a proposal… Jiao Jiao, marriage is a serious matter. We should go home and discuss it carefully,” he said in a low voice.
Behind them, the sound of horse hooves echoed steadily as Jin Ge’er arrived with the carriage.
“A marriage is indeed a serious matter,” Cheng Jiao-niang said, motioning for the carriage to wait. “Which family is it?”
It was common for young women to shy away from discussions of marriage, but this solemn and direct inquiry was a first for Master Zhou. Her question left him momentarily stunned.
“Yes… the Qin family,” he finally said after a brief hesitation. “Jiao Jiao, you know them, don’t you? He’s a good friend to Liu-lang, and he has visited our home before.”
“The little cripple?” the maid blurted out.
Master Zhou cleared his throat lightly, feeling a bit embarrassed.
“What do you mean, cripple? His leg can be cured,” he muttered, glancing around. The street was bustling with people coming and going, and curious glances occasionally turned their way. Discussing marriage proposals in the middle of the street was hardly appropriate. “Let’s go inside and talk.”
“No need,” Cheng Jiao-niang said. “If it’s their family, then there’s nothing to discuss. Just refuse them.”
Master Zhou was stunned.
“I have other matters to attend to, so I’ll be going now,” Cheng Jiao-niang added, lifting her foot to leave.
Only then did Master Zhou snap out of his daze and hurriedly stepped forward to block her path.
“Jiao Jiao, this is the Qin family we’re talking about. You’re still young, you don’t understand. The Qin family—” he began anxiously.
Too young to understand? Could it be that this wasn’t intentional on her part?
“Ban Qin,” Cheng Jiao-niang called out.
The maid beside her immediately understood and turned around.
“The Qin family is a prominent clan in Chuan-zhou,” she said crisply. “Over three generations, they have produced nineteen jinshi scholars. In the eighth year of Pingyuan, the eldest branch’s Qin Zhong passed the jinshi exam and was granted a marriage to a princess. The imperial court bestowed a princess’ residence upon them in the capital. Currently, the eldest branch’s second son, Qin An, is Qin Zhong’s legitimate grandson and serves as a lower eighth-rank court official. His wife is the daughter of the wealthy Fu family of Fen-zhou. The one who has close ties with the Sixth Young Master is Qin An’s fourth son, ranking thirteenth in the clan.”
Master Zhou stared at the maid in astonishment, a cold shiver running through him.
Just as Madam had predicted—this girl had investigated the family thoroughly. She even knew their names, their titles, and the exact year Qin Zhong married the princess.
This little fool’s intelligence was not to be underestimated!
But wait—something wasn’t right. The little fool had just said to refuse the proposal, not accept it?
“Jiao Jiao…” Master Zhou hurriedly called out.
But Cheng Jiao-niang’s carriage had already started moving.
“Master, please return home,” the maid said, lowering the carriage curtain.
Master Zhou could only watch as the carriage rolled away. With a sharp snap, a young servant darted inside the gate and swiftly bolted the door, as if afraid someone might follow.
What kind of situation was this?!
He, a dignified maternal uncle, had been reduced to nothing more than a mere messenger. He hadn’t even been offered a cup of tea—he hadn’t even been let through the door! And the most baffling part? She had outright rejected the proposal without hesitation.
Rejected it?
Master Zhou stroked his beard and frowned.
Why?
Young Master Qin stepped through the gates of the Zhou residence and couldn’t help but glance back. The maids at the entrance quickly averted their gazes.
“How rude these people are,” the young servant beside him muttered, glaring.
His master might be visiting the Zhou family by himself, but let no one forget that he bore the Qin name. The distinguished Qin family could not be looked down upon—certainly not by the Zhou household. Even if they were mocking a cripple, it was unacceptable.
That’s right—whenever there was a shift in people’s gazes, it must be because of his master’s lame leg.
But Young Master Qin merely smiled faintly.
“It is not others who are acting differently—it is we who are different first,” he said, stopping the servant’s complaints. “We have visited the Zhou family many times, and their servants have never behaved this rudely before. Yet today, they do. That proves it is not my disability that caused this reaction, but something else entirely.”
The servant suddenly understood and quickly responded, “Yes!”
“God has never wronged man—it is man who wrongs man,” Young Master Qin said as his sedan chair swayed gently. “It is not others who deceive us, but we who deceive ourselves. Just like earlier—seeing a change in someone’s expression, you grew angry and immediately jumped to a conclusion that you believed to be true, without understanding the real reason. And when the truth eventually becomes clear, you’ll likely blame fate for toying with you. But in reality, the facts are simply the facts. They sit there, unmoving, unchanged. The only question is whether you choose to see them or not.”
The young servant listened, half-understanding, half-confused. But he was used to it—his master, having been unable to move since childhood, had always been more inclined to philosophical musings than most.
The sedan chair arrived at Zhou Liu-lang’s residence, where Zhou Liu-lang was already waiting, having heard the news. He stood under the corridor, his expression somewhat peculiar.
“It seems this is no small matter,” Young Master Qin remarked with a smile as he steadied himself with his servant’s help, leaning on his cane as he stepped inside.
“You… why… did you still come?” Zhou Liu-lang asked, his expression complicated.
“And why shouldn’t I come?” Young Master Qin countered, scrutinizing Zhou Liu-lang while his mind raced—what reason could there be that he shouldn’t be here?
“No matter the reason, since this concerns a marriage proposal, the proper etiquette must be observed. At this moment, it’s indeed inappropriate for you to step through our door,” Zhou Liu-lang said in a low voice, looking uncomfortable.
These matters—matters between men—always felt awkward to talk about, didn’t they? Yes, it must be because they were discussing marriage. That was why.
As he spoke, he nodded to himself, as if reaffirming his own reasoning.
Young Master Qin’s expression turned one of surprise.
This look in his eyes caused Zhou Liu-lang to appear a bit dazed. It was only the second time he had seen Young Master Qin like this. The first time had been when he and that lady returned from a meal, and Young Master Qin had asked him a question, only for Zhou to choke on his words.
In the end, it all seemed to be about that lady.
Perhaps this was what those women liked to call “fate.”
“No matter the reason, Shi’san, you must take good care of her in the future,” Zhou Liu-lang said in a low voice. “She may be cunning and calculating, but ultimately, she has no choice but to act this way—she has no support. That’s why she wants to find someone to rely on. If you can be that support for her in the future, she will surely find peace.”
After speaking, he lifted his head to look at Young Master Qin, still surprised, and suddenly felt a strange surge of frustration.
“There was no need for you to get involved like this. I could have handled it myself. Why are you so eager to jump in?” he snapped.
Young Master Qin chuckled.
“You’ve been rambling on and on, speaking so earnestly. Can you at least tell me what I’ve actually done? A marriage proposal? Who’s proposing?” he asked. “And who is she?”
Zhou Liu-lang shot him a stern look.
“Who are you asking?” he replied.
“I’m asking you,” Young Master Qin said, leaning on his cane, feeling a bit tired. He decided to sit down on the corridor steps.
“Didn’t you propose to my cousin?” Zhou Liu-lang snorted. “The engagement hasn’t been finalized yet, and it’s not time for marriage talks. So what are you doing here?” He too sat down on the other side.
Young Master Qin, holding his cane, stood up again.
“Zhou Liu-lang, are you joking?” he asked.
