Zhan and Lan spent their days quietly, each exploring their surroundings. Although they had not left their mother's luxurious room in these first months, as long as they could understand what they heard and learn from what they saw, this room did not feel like a limitation.
Lan remained silent so the midwife wouldn't distance herself from him, while Zhan preferred to stay by the window, open due to the summer heat.
There was purpose in these actions. They had inherited the instincts of a man who had compensated for his lack of innate talent with sharp senses, alertness, and a tenacity unfamiliar to modern people.
Lan listened intently: "If the midwife told the new maid she earns three hundred wen a day while working for a great family, then how much do laborers earn in this world? The new maid's pay is about one hundred thirty wen per day, but she's still not a laborer. I need to think deeper! Oh, right—the midwife hired a laborer for her garden because she was busy working at the villa."
"If two hundred fifty wen is paid for five days of work, then a laborer's wage in this world is about fifty wen per day."
"The unit 'wen' must be those hollow copper coins in the new maid's hand. So, to buy a horse, how many kilograms of copper would they need to exchange? No, they can't have such a backward system. Maybe the answer lies in the silver ingots. After our birth, several chests containing small silver ingots—each maybe fifty grams—arrived in Mother's room."
"I remember the midwife and the two guards talked about being farmers in the past. So, we have an agrarian-based society. In such a society, three or four months—a season—means having food and resources. If there's a secondary monetary unit, it likely supports one person for three to four months. This is a guess, but each silver ingot probably equals three months of a laborer's wage."
Meanwhile, Zhan was observing the courtyard and the guards. He knew a soldier represented the will, nationality, and customs of their master. The guards, while standing at regular intervals, slightly bent their knees inward. Zhan was familiar with isometric muscle training. The guards rotated shifts at set intervals, and the replacement guard had to arrive one hour early before the shift ended. Yet, within such discipline and surveillance, a man had once entered unnoticed, traversed the corridor, and reached the Lady's chamber.
"These guards seem disciplined and rigid. Seeing them, one can understand the power of someone who passed through them like a ghost."
Zhan calculated: seven guards were stationed at the villa, with two rotating per shift. For internal affairs, there were three servants: the midwife, the new maid, and the person responsible for delivering meals. In the kitchen, there was one male cook and one female kitchen assistant. That was everyone in the villa.
Zhan and Lan sat, unknowingly straining their infant brains more than they should. The result was two delicate children who had fallen asleep on a sunny afternoon. As always, the midwife placed them in a single cradle—it seemed they only smiled in their sleep when they were in the same cradle.
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In the Tai Mountains, at the entrance of the great Taoist temple, a man in noble attire began descending the temple's ten thousand steps. Midway, a disheveled man in black followed him.
The nobleman, aware of the pursuit, continued until he reached a carriage waiting at the base of the temple path.
After half a day's journey, the nobleman stopped in front of a restaurant, disembarked, and went behind it. The black-clad man who had been following him paused, thinking that if he learned more about this man, the Downfall Sect would pay him more for the information. He continued trailing the nobleman until he was just four steps away. Suddenly, the nobleman turned and said, "I've been waiting for you! All this anticipation just to see you—but beauty isn't a reason to harass me."
The black-clad man pulled aside his mask and asked, "What are you talking about? You must be mistaken."
But a cold sensation touched the man's back. He turned to look behind him—he had sensed danger.
At that moment, facing him stood a woman with a long silver flute, stained with blood. He wanted to ask what had happened or whose blood it was, but his throat seemed torn.
Before falling, he realized the blood was his own—and that Jianghu was no place for greed.