Walking into the courtyard, Mo Zi called Xiao Yi out.
“Lu Ju, your skill at transforming women into men is getting more and more impressive.” Xiao Yi circled her eyes up and down in appraisal.
Lu Ju dared not take credit, pointing at Mo Zi to say, “It’s because Mo Zi taught well from the start.”
Mo Zi had originally been a soldier and rarely wore makeup herself, nor did she know how. However, television programs were rich and varied, and having watched foreign film makeup transformation techniques a few times, she remembered some things and had explained them to Lu Ju. Lu Ju was quite skilled at hairdressing and applying makeup, and after pondering it herself and constantly experimenting on Mo Zi’s face, the results were indeed quite good.
It wasn’t some profound disguise technique—just making the face look a bit more androgynous. Dressed in men’s clothing and walking on the street, she wouldn’t draw stares because of feminine features. Moreover, she never intended to fool everyone—just that when moving about outside, cross-dressing as a man could reduce unnecessary trouble.
Not only her, but Qiu Sanniang and Bai He and the others also frequently dressed in men’s clothing when outside. Although merchants willing to do business with Qiu Sanniang all knew they were women, if they left that circle, appearing in men’s clothing wouldn’t attract too much attention or antipathy from others. After all, for young ladies of good families, frequently showing their faces in public really wasn’t something worth praising.
“Mo Zi, go early and return early.” After Bai He finished speaking, she led Lu Ju into Qiu Sanniang’s room.
Mo Zi walked to the base of the wall. Outside was the hill behind Cinian Hermitage’s Guanyin Hall. At this moment, pilgrims generally remained near Guanyin Hall. On the hill was a Purple Vegetarian Hall that offered scenic views, tea, and vegetarian meals, so crowds wouldn’t increase until around noon.
Xiao Yi easily climbed to the top of the wall, looked around to confirm no one was present, then turned back to bring Mo Zi over the wall.
The two had cooperated like this many times and were already very well coordinated.
How could Zhang Shi, who never stepped beyond the inner chambers, have anticipated this? She thought Qiu Sanniang, trapped in the small courtyard, was under her control, even knowing clearly how many times Qiu Sanniang’s maids went out to buy snacks.
In reality, going through the main gate was just a ruse. The real movement occurred atop the high surrounding wall not far from Qiu Sanniang’s remote little courtyard.
“I’m leaving.” Mo Zi smoothed out her somewhat wrinkled robe.
“Three hundred taels of silver… Miss she… don’t blame her… If she didn’t trust you, she wouldn’t let you go out alone.” Xiao Yi finished speaking clumsily with her back to Mo Zi, then darted into the forest on the hill, off to climb who knows which tree.
Mo Zi smiled and headed down the path in the opposite direction. Passing through Guanyin Hall, she walked out Cinian Hermitage’s main gate through the gradually increasing female pilgrims. Since female pilgrims also brought male servants and manservants, her appearance wasn’t conspicuous. Moreover, the way she walked—head held high, striding confidently, blue sleeves catching the wind without a trace of affectation—who would think she was a woman?
Walking down two quarters of an hour from Cinian Hermitage’s main gate brought you to Cinian Temple at the mountain’s base. This temple and hermitage enjoyed flourishing incense offerings, making the marketplace in Luo Zhou’s eastern suburbs extraordinarily lively. Many prominent families chose this location to establish businesses and purchase property. There were wide commercial streets where shops dealing in antiques, silk, gold, silver, jade, books, and ink concentrated. To the south, the land was broad and the fields fertile. Farmers from neighboring counties often brought fresh fruits and vegetables to sell, quickly forming a small street like a modern farmers’ market. There was also a residential area with rice, oil, salt, herbal medicine shops, medical halls, food stalls, restaurants, and lodgings.
Best of all, five li north of the eastern suburbs was the Luo River, which connected to the Yangtze and could reach the Nande border. Luo Zhou was a necessary passage for merchants from both countries. Trade flourished, with quite a few prosperous merchants large and small, renowned throughout the nation for its wealth.
During New Year’s, Mo Zi had accompanied Qiu Sanniang to Cinian Hermitage once, and the work she did for Sanniang was even more inseparable from the Luo River, so she was extremely familiar with this eastern market town and wasn’t afraid of getting lost.
Dressed in her old blue cloth robe, she crossed streets and passed through alleys in the morning light. Some enthusiastic shop owners called out “Young Master Mo,” asking how she’d been lately. She smiled and answered each one, walking at an unhurried pace.
She finally stopped in front of a bean curd shop, seeing business was good inside with five or six tables nearly full. Those laborers and travelers with patches on their clothes, drinking large bowls of hot soymilk or eating rice, gnawing on scallion flatbreads spread with dark bean paste—the satisfied expressions on their faces as if the world’s finest delicacies were in their mouths.
Sitting on a crude bench by the roadside, Mo Zi called out toward a figure inside whose back was toward her, frantically busy, “One bowl of soymilk.”
“Right away!” The person first hurried to acknowledge the customer, then probably recognizing the voice, turned to look. After seeing clearly, he broke into a wide grin, scratched his head, and came running over laughing. “Brother Mo, it’s been so long since you came!”
“Been a bit busy lately.” Mo Zi looked at this dark-complexioned big fellow. “Brother Gao, business is good, eh?”
“Ever since you taught me to make those few things, I’ve had business from morning to night.” Gao Zhuang was very grateful.
Gao Zhuang originally only made and sold soymilk, tofu, and tofu pudding. Once when Mo Zi was thirsty and wanted something sweet, she entered his shop. At that hour there were no more customers, and Gao Zhuang was just about to close up. Seeing a customer who only wanted a bowl of soymilk, he didn’t find it troublesome and heated a pot just for her. Mo Zi saw this person was quite honest and chatted with him a bit. She mentioned cooking red beans, green beans, carrots, millet, and peanuts together—low-cost ingredients that were filling rough grain rice. From cold tofu salad to tofu stuffed with meat served over rice, she talked about spicy tofu soup. She mentioned several tofu variations she loved to eat but hadn’t eaten here.
Gao Zhuang was very interested and asked detailed questions again and again. The first time he tried the rough grain rice, his mother named it Eight Treasure Rice, and it immediately attracted many customers. Later, when the menu added small dishes and soups with tofu as the main ingredient, they were also well received. Now, business could run from morning to night.
“I only know how to eat.” Mo Zi saw customers leaving and others coming in. “You hurry and get busy. Has your mother returned from the capital yet?”
“She got home last night. This morning she went to deliver a message and should be back soon. You can drink your soymilk while you wait.” After Gao Zhuang finished speaking, he went back inside to bring out a large sea bowl of soymilk for her, along with three or four small dishes.
Mo Zi knew that was the largest bowl in his shop. But his kind intentions—she couldn’t refuse. She could only sit there slowly drinking and slowly eating.
When the sun reached its zenith, more than half the sea bowl of soymilk had been drunk. Seeing those customers who had no seats and could only squat on the ground, holding their bowls and slurping their food, while she alone occupied a square table, she thought she should come back another day.
“Young Master Mo is here?” Granny Gao had returned home. Spotting Mo Zi with one glance, she too beamed with smiles.
“Mother, Brother Mo has been waiting for you for half a shichen.” Gao Zhuang’s hands didn’t stop moving.
“Child, I’ve told you several times—if you’re looking for me, wait inside the house. We don’t have the rules of prominent families where you can’t enter the house when the master isn’t home.” Granny Gao beckoned.
“Granny, this trip to the capital—was everything smooth?” Mo Zi quickly stood up and walked toward the inner room with Granny Gao.
Shop in front, living quarters in back—many small shops were like this.
“It went well enough. There were always one or two masters hard to find, but offering lower prices, I managed to sell them off. I didn’t lose or gain—forget it.” Granny Gao pushed open the door. Behind it was a square small courtyard with three rooms.
This mother and son—the son ground and sold tofu, while the mother was a full-time broker and part-time matchmaker.