[Though you did not understand the young marquis's expression, you remembered the news you had heard in the Capital back then. Nanny had indeed worked hard, rising from a nanny to a junior steward.]
[So you nodded.]
[The young marquis's eyes grew wetter. His lashes fluttered again and again, his lips trembling all the while, and for a long time he could not speak. Had he been younger, without so many wrinkles on his face, looking so close to tears might have been nothing remarkable. But he was now a gray-haired old man in his fifties, and that expression made you uncomfortable all over.]
[You could not help frowning.]
["If you have something to say, say it," you said, your tone less than polite.]
[The young marquis drew a deep breath, as though trying to settle some violently surging emotion.]
[He waved away the attendants, leaving only the two of you in the vast main hall.]
["Senior," he said, his voice still trembling a little, "this Steward Rong you mentioned, did she... did she dislike sweets and only like spicy food? Whenever the kitchen made a spicy dish, she would be happy. And was her embroidery exquisite, and did she like embroidering two little flowers on shoe insoles?"]
[You froze.]
[You had never had the heart to wear those shoes. You had carried them with you all these years, and even now they were still in the bundle on your back. But all this... how did the young marquis know?!]
[You instinctively reached toward the bundle on your back. The young marquis saw the movement, and his eyes reddened further, yet he forced out a smile. "Then... then she made shoes for you."]
[The young marquis looked at you, then suddenly did something you had never expected. He straightened his clothes and headwear, then solemnly bowed to you, his clasped hands lowered all the way to the ground.]
["Senior," his muffled voice came from below, "could you... let me see those shoes?"]
[After a moment's silence, you reached into your bundle and took out the shoes.]
[The young marquis accepted the shoes with both hands and examined them closely by the faint firelight. His fingers gently brushed over those two little flowers. His shoulders began to tremble, and great drops of tears fell from eyes that had turned scarlet at some point.]
[The sight of his utter grief made even your nose sting.]
[By the time you came to your senses, you were already sitting in the main hall of the Marquis's Household's rear courtyard.]
[Fine tea and pastries were set before you. The young marquis sat opposite you, his eyes still red, rambling on about those long-ago events.]
[In the third year of this simulation, though you were still in the household, you had been absorbed in cultivating and had not tried to get close to the masters as you had in the previous simulation.]
[As in the previous simulation, the young heir's mother had been left with a lingering illness after giving birth to him and could not care for him herself, so the old marquis had chosen a wet nurse for him.]
[When the young heir was three, someone bribed that wet nurse to poison his food and kill him. By a stroke of chance, Nanny had uncovered the sordid plot and saved the young heir.]
[After that, the old marquis had transferred Nanny to the young heir's side, putting her in charge of his meals and daily care.]
[You did not question in the slightest why you had never heard of this during the first simulation, because back then you had only been a little maid working in the kitchen. Had you learned of such a sordid affair, you would not have been far from death.]
[What puzzled you more was this: in the previous simulation, Nanny had clearly told you herself that she sought no advancement in life, only security. Why had she taken the initiative to get close to the masters in this simulation?]
[The young marquis lifted his teacup and took a sip to moisten his throat before continuing, "I was only three then and understood nothing. All I knew was to cling to whoever treated me well. After Nanny came, I wasn't so frightened anymore. Those years from three to seven were the most peaceful years of my life."]
[In silence, you lifted your teacup and took a sip.]
[It was fine tea, but you could taste nothing.]
["The year I turned seven," the young marquis's voice sank, "my father died in battle."]
[You raised your eyes to him. You knew this too; it had happened that way in the first simulation.]
[The young marquis continued, "I remember that day very clearly. It was autumn, and the osmanthus in the courtyard had just bloomed. Steward Rong was picking osmanthus blossoms with me, saying she would make me osmanthus cakes. Then the butler came, his face white as paper. He knelt before me and said... said my father was gone."]
[His voice was a little hoarse. "I didn't understand what 'gone' meant. I even asked Steward Rong when Father would come back. Nanny said nothing then. She only gathered me into her arms."]
[You lifted your teacup and took another sip. The tea had cooled, and its bitterness had deepened.]
["When the collateral branches saw that my father was dead and I was young, they revealed their true faces one after another. Today, one would come and say that the heir should hand the storeroom keys over to his elders for safekeeping. Tomorrow, another would come and say that the heir was young and the clan elders should manage the household affairs on his behalf. I was a seven-year-old child. How could I understand any of that? All I knew was fear."]
["It was Steward Rong," he said. "She was only a servant and had no right to speak, but whenever those people came to pressure me, she would kneel and kowtow, saying the heir was still young and begging the gentlemen to allow him a few more years. She knocked her forehead against the ground until it was bruised purple. Nanny was my wet nurse and had raised me from childhood. She had built up some standing in the household, too, so at first she could still force them back."]
["But in the end, she was only a servant. As time passed, the steward became a thorn in their eye, a splinter in their flesh." The young marquis's voice was very soft. "At last, they turned their spearheads on her."]
["Once, twice, the steward was always very careful, but everyone has a moment when their boat capsizes in a gutter." The young marquis paused and raised his head to look at you. "I was nine then and understood nothing. I only knew to try desperately to stop them from taking Steward Rong away."]
[The young marquis's eyes reddened again. "But I couldn't stop them. They pulled me aside and, right before my eyes, pinned Steward Rong to the ground and beat her. Twenty strokes of the paddle, until her back was covered in blood."]
["After the beating, they wanted to sell Steward Rong off. I knelt and begged them. I tried to use my status as heir to pressure them, saying that Steward Rong had saved my life, saying I would fight anyone who tried to sell her to the death. But they said that if she stayed, the heir would remain under a servant's thumb, and she would surely become a scourge in the future."]
[He paused, his voice trembling. "I was too young then. I had no idea how to argue back. All I knew was that they were taking Steward Rong away, and I couldn't stop them."]
["Later, my father's former subordinates returned from the battlefield, and with their support I secured my position. Only then did I finally learn what had happened back then."]
[The young marquis rose and, under your astonished gaze, knelt before you.]
[He lowered his head, his voice muffled and choked with sobs. "I investigated for three years before I uncovered the truth of what happened back then. The one who framed Steward Rong for stealing was my second uncle."]
[His forehead pressed against the cold floor tiles.]
["After I secured my position, I drove his entire family out of the Marquis's Household and reduced them to commoners. But before my second uncle died, he said something to me. He said, 'You think your hands are clean? Could we have driven her out without your nod? If you'd shown even a little backbone back then, who would have dared touch her?'"]
[The young marquis's voice had gone completely hoarse.]
["He was right. I was nine. I wasn't that young anymore. If I'd stood firm, they wouldn't have dared. But I was afraid. I was afraid of pain, afraid of death, afraid they would depose me too. I was too cowardly."]
[You looked down at him. This gray-haired old man knelt before you, his shoulders jerking with sobs.]
[How had things come to this? How had the young marquis ended up kneeling before you?]
[The candle burned down a little, its wick bursting into a flower of flame with a sharp crack. Suddenly, you understood why Nanny had wanted to become a steward...]
Before you continue