At this moment, Mo Zi had already arrived at Wangqiu Pavilion. She had no way of anticipating what was happening at Qiu Mansion, nor what she was about to face.

“Brother Mo, if you’d come any later, our guests probably wouldn’t have been able to wait any longer.” With Chief Manager Cen not present, Cen Erlang received her.

“Who’s looking for me?” Mo Zi was quite surprised. She normally just ran errands between two places and otherwise didn’t show her face publicly—her merchant dealings were rarely known to others. Therefore, when she heard that a guest was asking for her, she couldn’t think of who it might be.

“I’ve never seen these faces before.” As Cen Er spoke, he recalled what those two servers had said. “Supposedly, they ate a meal at our pavilion a few days ago…”

Mo Zi knew who it was. However, knowing didn’t settle the surprise in her heart—she only felt it stranger still.

Cen Er continued chattering on, “…they were those people who shared a private room with you that time.”

“Because I shared a room with them, you assumed we knew each other, so you rushed to call me over?” That was quite the misunderstanding—she had no intention of seeing those young masters and ladies again. Such a difficult group to serve.

“That’s not it.” Cen Er quickly replied. “If there weren’t good reason, how would I dare casually summon you out? If I didn’t understand this basic protocol, wouldn’t my father scold me half to death?”

At Wangqiu Pavilion, Chief Manager Cen was the highest-ranking position shown to outsiders. Anyone in the know who wished to visit the proprietress needed to go through Chief Manager Cen’s assessment before he would pass along the message, after which Qiu Sanniang would decide whether to grant an audience.

“But you used an internal message.” An internal message meant a summons for an internal meeting requirement, which was why Qiu Sanniang had so easily let her leave the mansion. “If you hadn’t sent the message just as Xiao Yi was coming in, and I came tomorrow instead, what would you have done?”

“I would have just said I couldn’t find you and told them to go back.” But Cen Er wasn’t quite so simple-minded. “If I’d used an external message, the proprietress probably wouldn’t have let you come so casually—she’d certainly get to the bottom of it. If she got angry, that would be no laughing matter.”

An external message meant the content involved people outside Wangqiu Pavilion, and Qiu Sanniang would indeed investigate thoroughly.

“Why would she get angry?” Mo Zi laughed. Her darkened complexion made her small row of teeth appear pure white.

Cen Er had long heard from his father that Brother Mo, like the proprietress, was actually female, and though he’d never seen her true appearance, seeing this smile, it was as if brilliant light shone before his eyes, exceptionally radiant. Wondering what kind of beauty lay beneath that dark makeup, he was curious, but didn’t let it interfere with business. Seeing the surroundings were quiet, he leaned in and whispered a few words in her ear.

“They really asked that?” Previously just surprised, Mo Zi was now astonished.

“That’s exactly what they asked. I’m relaying it word for word.” Cen Er straightened up again, retreating to a position half a step behind Mo Zi. “Brother Mo, if the proprietress finds out about this and investigates who leaked information, even if she can’t determine exactly who, my father and I will be hard-pressed to escape blame.”

Mo Zi lowered her eyes without speaking, but Cen Er was right. If an investigation were launched and they couldn’t pin it on anyone specific, those in charge couldn’t escape punishment.

“Let me meet them first before deciding.” Things having come to this point, she really had no choice but to meet them.

Mo Zi walked to the door of that same private room from last time and glared at the door firmly papered with cotton paper for quite a while. She didn’t want to deal with such people, especially those three led by that Second Young Master. That physique, that cunning, that aristocratic pride, and coming from the capital—nine times out of ten they were connected to the Great Zhou imperial court. For some reason, just thinking of words like court and political factions made her shudder all over.

“Brother Mo?” Seeing her dazed appearance, Cen Er called out to her.

“Hm?” Mo Zi clenched her fists. “Open the door.”

Cen Er responded and pushed the door open.

Mo Zi’s face took on a thoroughly gracious smile. Following behind Cen Er and closing the door, the inexplicable dread that had arisen was completely gone. Her gaze swept lightly around in a circle—good, only three people. Or rather, why was it still those three men whose brows, eyes, and stature, even their outer robes and boots, all carried the clanging northern spirit brought south from waters beyond—so different from Luo Zhou’s native sons?

Of the three men who saw her, two showed no change in expression, continuing to drink and eat as they had been. Only that scholarly-looking one who had proposed sharing a room with her, the man named Zhong An, smiled kindly at her.

Since ancient times, northerners had been prouder than southerners. Therefore, when northerners came south, it was called “descending south”; when southerners went north, it was called “ascending north.” Those who descended south mostly won. Those who ascended north mostly lost.

“Young brother, last time we were too rash in our actions—we went too far. Please don’t take it to heart.” Zhong An even offered kind words.

“Going too far” referred to those two silver ingots. Mo Zi saw that the three remained seated comfortably with no intention of rising to greet her, and thought that since going too far was their style anyway, she wouldn’t hold it against them. Thus, she swept aside her robe and sat on the round stool opposite the main seat.

But having just sat down, something felt off. Each time she came to Wangqiu Pavilion, she was accustomed to sitting by the window, back against the wall, relaxing her body comfortably. This current stool, though exquisitely crafted, had no backrest—she had to rest her hands on the table to sit up straight. She suddenly recalled that modern grand restaurants mostly had chairs with backs, while chairs in ancient restaurants were almost all stools. It seemed she needed to talk to Qiu Sanniang about getting some backed chairs for Wangqiu Pavilion.

“You’re too kind, sir.” Mo Zi’s current sitting posture was hunched over, her forearms spread quite wide, presenting a carefree and roguish appearance.

Cen Er watched with his eyes and admired in his heart. This slovenly servant manner was worlds apart from the dark-yet-charming look from moments ago.

When that Second Young Master heard Mo Zi speak, he seemed casual, but his attention had already left the high platform where Ge Qiu and the others were singing and dancing. “Sir” was a particular honorific for those with learning and talent. Was this unremarkable Brother Mo calling him this casually, or had he discerned Zhong An’s abilities and was showing respect? He didn’t want to think too highly of the other party, but couldn’t underestimate him either.

“The fault lay with me first last time.” Mo Zi spoke rather carelessly. “Since it’s a matter of the past, let’s not bring it up again. As the saying goes, you don’t truly know someone until you’ve fought them. If we hadn’t crossed swords last time, we wouldn’t have this reunion now.” Though she had no desire for this reunion whatsoever.

“Well said—indeed, you don’t truly know someone until you’ve fought them.” Zhong An stood up, brought over a wine pot, and filled the cup before Mo Zi. “Young brother, I toast you. Just for your magnanimous spirit in not holding grudges, Zhong An wishes to befriend you.”

One reason Mo Zi could wholeheartedly follow Qiu Sanniang was that she shared several similarities with her. One of these was that no matter how well people treated her, she always maintained a somewhat suspicious attitude. As a soldier in a strange and chaotic environment, she would first assume everyone was an enemy, then continuously observe and test them, and through multiple trials, identify allies among them.

So, was this Zhong An her ally?

No.

At most, he was just the one playing good cop among the three.

Why would a man wearing brocade robes, crowned with jade, exuding extraordinary bearing, want to befriend her—someone in old robes, wind blowing through both sleeves, without even freedom over her own status?

However, if it was for that matter, she might just get to see that Second Young Master personally begging her in an aggrieved manner.

Hehe—