The traditional brush felt awkward in his hand, and his homemade quill pen didn't provide much efficiency to boast about either. Cheng Jinzhou decided to copy some sections himself while having his two pageboys transcribe the rest. With the book's contents scrambled, even he found it exceptionally difficult to make sense of the material.
Several thousand characters couldn't be copied in a short time. As dusk approached with no sign of Cheng preparing to return home, Shimu grew increasingly anxious, frantically signaling to Shiyan with his eyes.
Amused by the display, Cheng put on an air of maturity as he set down his quill. "What's with all the eye gymnastics?" he asked.
Though his attempt at sternness lacked authority—after all, he was just a twelve-year-old boy—Shimu, being young himself and having been reprimanded several times already, hung his head meekly. "Young Master, the mistress must be growing impatient," he said plaintively.
"Nothing to worry about," Cheng replied, glancing at the contents of his ring. "Just work faster—we're nearly done with these chapters."
Despite the simple characters used in Elements of Geometry, both pageboys had copied until their hands and feet went numb. Cheng had transcribed the crucial sections himself, then skimmed through the remainder twice before deciding he'd done enough.
By lamplighting hour, when Cheng's mother had sent her third maidservant to hurry him along, Cheng finally instructed Shimu to prepare the carriage while he slipped back into the storeroom, satisfied with his progress.
"Let's try for another book," he whispered to the interface, feeling the thrill of clandestine operations. "Similar requirements as last time—not too lengthy, and make it something useful."
The ever-present customer service responded promptly: "Random search has located a book containing 2,800 characters."
"5.6 star coins?" Cheng agreed with slight hesitation.
Ten dan of grain—equivalent to ten sacks of flour—wasn't an enormous amount. But spending it so casually, only to receive what felt like lottery winnings, left him somewhat unsettled.
This discomfort intensified exponentially when he saw the title: Third Volume of Six-Year Primary School Mathematics Textbook. Cheng's eyes nearly bulged from their sockets. While Elements of Geometry at least qualified as a classic, this new acquisition was utterly useless.
"More mathematics? And... elementary school mathematics at that?" Cheng gritted his teeth, his inner peasant mentality surfacing unmistakably.
"Random means any book is possible," Customer Service 010 explained. "Would you like to continue purchasing?"
"What if it's more math?"
"To reduce server load, that possibility exists," came the breezy reply.
Cheng snorted but decided against further exchanges. At his young age, acquiring funds wasn't easy. If he kept burning through resources without getting anything valuable, he'd face real trouble.
Even this absurd elementary math text, he resolved to copy down for now.
"Young Master, the carriage is ready," a pageboy called softly from outside.
Pressing his right hand to the ring to shut off the display, Cheng told the interface, "That's enough for now. We'll talk later."
Emerging with a disappointed expression, he announced, "Let's go home."
The annex occupied both sides of a street, though it was considerably smaller than the ancestral mansion. After boarding his carriage at the second gate, they soon reached the main entrance when Cheng suddenly tugged the carriage bell. As the vehicle halted, he spoke through the curtain: "Shiyan, fetch that Gao Shiliu for me. And the second steward too."
Gao Shiliu served as gatekeeper, a second-tier servant with four or five underlings at his disposal.
Like the main residence, the annex staff fell under central administration. The second steward came scurrying over, bowing deeply toward the carriage from a distance. "Good morning, Young Master!" he called with boundless reverence.
The Cheng patriarch held the prestigious position of Grand Commander Pacifying the South in the Great Xia dynasty—a civil official of the second rank serving in a military capacity, favored by two generations of emperors. However, his constant absence left household affairs in his wife's hands. Of his five sons, the eldest, fourth, and fifth—all born of concubines—held little status and enjoyed no favor from the old madam, let alone their descendants. The second son served as an official in the capital, having taken his family with him. With no brothers of his own, Cheng Jinzhou stood as the sole legitimate male heir remaining in Shaonan City from his branch of the family.
The servants understood perfectly well where the old madam's favor lay.
In the past, the sickly Cheng had rarely ventured beyond his home except to attend the clan school as tradition demanded, practically raised like a daughter. His few visits to the annex made the second steward all the more attentive. High-ranking servants remained servants nonetheless, and with the young master still a child, any accidental offense that led to complaints would prove most unpleasant.
Drawing the carriage curtain slightly aside, Cheng studied the bowing steward through narrowed eyes. While mentally praising the virtues of this corrupt old society, he adopted the tone favored by wealthy landowners: "Second Steward, your surname is Cheng too?"
The steward hunched slightly, his back showing the faintest suggestion of a hump. "Indeed," he answered formally. "My ancestors began serving the family in the 27th generation. By my father's time, we were granted the Cheng surname."
The 27th generation referred to Cheng's great-grandfather, who had died in office.
"Family makes all the difference—so much more diligent and capable." Cheng spoke from within the carriage, mimicking his mother's mannerisms. As principal wife of the Cheng heir, she embodied the grace and shrewdness typical of noblewomen of their era.
The words "family" sent the steward into raptures. Born to low status, his recent surname adoption left many resentful of his promotion. Now his hump actually quivered with emotion. "Thank you for your kindness, Young Master."
"You're an able man. The grain was stored the moment it arrived—well done." Cheng's effusive praise might have made others cringe, but the steward beamed with pleasure.
After repeating this minor compliment, Cheng shifted tone: "This is precisely what sets family apart. Unlike your gatekeeper here—so sloppy in his work."
He pointed at the distant figure of Gao Shiliu, his voice turning stern. "He never even announced my arrival."
The fortyish gatekeeper wore an ingratiating smile of confusion. "Young Master, I saw you speaking with the second steward..."
"What business is that of yours? Must this young master report his movements to you?" At this, the sharper servants realized their master objected to the gatekeeper's loose tongue.
Understanding dawned on Gao Shiliu too. Glancing miserably between the steward and Cheng, he dropped to his knees. "Young Master, household rules require registering all arrivals..."
Cheng cut him off with a rap of his knuckles. "First, registration isn't reporting. Broadcasting my whereabouts certainly isn't protocol. Were this a military campaign, such behavior would cost you your head."
Though Cheng deliberately exaggerated in his boyish tones, none dared laugh. Instead, they shivered slightly—when the Cheng heir spoke thus to a second-tier servant, even just to preserve family dignity, Gao Shiliu's position became untenable.
Cheng wasn't finished. "Second, whether you approve or not, when your master arrives, you don't even greet me properly. Instead your legs carry you off to make reports, then you slink back without a word. Do you hold me in such contempt?"
While Cheng nearly laughed at his own performance, the second steward could stand no more. If such words reached the ladies of the house, he'd face punishment too. Straightening his clothes, he knelt. "Young Master, this old servant has failed in disciplining him."
"Not your concern. Enough—let's leave it at that." Without another word about punishment, Cheng let the curtain fall and gave the bell a gentle shake.
The driver cracked his whip, setting the horses in motion. Leaning back comfortably, Cheng reflected that despite his petulant act, his future activities at the annex would now receive more cautious treatment from the servants—most likely, they'd simply keep their distance.
As the carriage wheels faded into the distance, the second steward slapped his knees and rose with assistance from two underlings. Pointing a trembling finger at Gao Shiliu, he spat, "Look what you've done!"
"Master Ming, every young master's visit follows the same procedure! I only notified the main house out of concern for the third young master!" Gao's face twisted with grievance and growing fear.
Knowing Cheng had been making an example of the staff—while privately marveling at how the young master had matured—the steward pointed warningly outward. "Starting tomorrow, report to the outer estates. We'll find you a good position there. Cheng Qizhong, you'll take the gatehouse—mind your conduct."
With that, the steward turned on his heel, allowing Gao no opportunity for reply.
In the annex, the gatekeeper's post ranked among the most lucrative, with gate fees alone bringing in more than three estate managers combined outside. Losing such a prize left Gao devastated, while onlookers took nervous note.
As for that promised "good position"—pure fantasy.