Mo Zi’s mindset of wanting to see the other party beg her was purely the nature of a young woman beneath her pretense of magnanimity. For no other reason than that her days were oppressive, and opportunities to act uninhibited in men’s clothing were truly few—when she could reveal her true temperament, she tried her best to be herself. What kind of person was she? Honestly, she herself wasn’t clear. But one thing was certain—she was absolutely different from what these ancient people thought and believed.
As for friendship, better not. If they knew her female identity, they’d probably disdain her from eight thousand li away. Thinking this, her fingers rubbed along the rim of the cup, but she didn’t pick up the wine.
“I don’t touch a drop of alcohol. Such gracious hospitality—I can only accept it in spirit. I hope you’ll understand, sir.” Without realizing it, her manner of speaking was completely unlike that of a servant or attendant from the lower classes.
Zhong An had raised both arms holding the wine cup, ready for the other party to toast with him. Not expecting her to refuse this approach, his face showed embarrassment. But because Mo Zi spoke so politely, he couldn’t be displeased—he could only drain the cup himself and return it to where it came from. While others traveled dusty from the road, he was dusty with disappointment. Thinking that without his mediation things would surely grow cold, he was again mistaken.
“What matter brings the three of you to seek me today?” Mo Zi didn’t wait for the atmosphere to chill, asking with a smile.
The Second Young Master looked at her and discovered that her smiling expression wasn’t the least bit endearing. Moreover, her mouth corners lifted high, her gaze wandered, looking shifty and sneaky, yet carrying an inexplicable sense of excitement. He could almost conclude that this person’s head must be plotting something!
“Why ask when you already know? Your colleague should have already told you.” The voice was rich and resonant, loud as a great bell—it was the other tall, dark, burly fellow beside the Second Young Master, similar in age to Zhong An, but with a much worse temper.
“Those words are quite the joke.” Mo Zi glanced at Cen Er sitting to the side, full of humility. “I’m merely someone who runs errands for the proprietress—where would I have any ‘colleagues’ of my own? Though I did hear one sentence passed along. However, I’ve pondered it for ages and still can’t figure out what you gentlemen mean. I’ll trouble whichever of you three is in charge to tell me again.”
This was a provocation, thrown directly before the Second Young Master to see if he’d respond.
Sure enough, both Zhong An and the burly man simultaneously looked at the Second Young Master.
“Arrange passage across the river for us.” The Second Young Master finally spoke—after all, this wasn’t something silence could resolve.
“Second Young Master here.” Mo Zi addressed him carelessly. “You seem to have left out half a sentence. It should be: Arrange passage across the river for us, going through Jingyu Rapids into Nande.”
“I thought you didn’t understand.” The Second Young Master’s cold gaze swept over—who gave her permission to call him Second Young Master?
In Mo Zi’s eyes, this Second Young Master had always looked down on her somewhat.
“If you break it down character by character, I understand. But strung together as a sentence, I don’t understand. Put yourself in my position—you run a restaurant, someone comes to your door, and instead of asking for food, they ask for a boat. Could you comprehend it?” Him looking down on her was fine—she’d put on a good show.
“If the restaurant you’re referring to is Wangqiu Pavilion, I think I’d understand perfectly well.” Just as the Second Young Master finished speaking, as if on cue, a burst of applause suddenly erupted from downstairs—Ge Qiu and the others’ dance had ended.
Impressive! Mo Zi praised inwardly but didn’t show the slightest hint of fear or annoyance. She was far from honest—at times like this, she had to play dumb.
“I know nothing in my heart nor understand anything in my belly. Let’s put it this way—this should be a case of keeping business separate, shouldn’t it? If you want to cross the river, you should go find the government office. Spend a bit of silver to obtain a travel permit and you can board a boat. Our Wangqiu Pavilion runs this food and drink business. While it’s true we have wide connections, we can’t manage affairs on the river. You gentlemen have truly sought the wrong place and found the wrong people.”
“Is that so?” The Second Young Master asked coolly in return.
“Indeed.” Mo Zi replied quickly. “How about this—I’ll ask our staff to keep an eye out. When our Prefect’s advisors come to drink someday, I’ll introduce you and save you some expenses?”
“Cen Er—” She actually turned her head to give instructions.
“You little brat running wild, we still need…” The burly man’s thick eyebrows stood on end.
“Brother Shi, you mustn’t speak disrespectfully.” Zhong Wen pulled the burly man back.
Mo Zi saw clearly—it was the Second Young Master’s sharp glance that cut off the burly man’s words. Even with his words cut off, she could guess he’d probably been saying they didn’t need introductions. Clearly, these people’s status wasn’t low. But if they were high officials from the capital who could easily obtain travel permits, why would they need to smuggle themselves across the river? This point, she temporarily couldn’t see through.
“Young brother, on the day we first met you, when you heard about Jingyu Rapids, your reaction wasn’t like this current complete ignorance.” Zhong An received a hint from beside him, and between the opening and closing of his eyes, his expression had already steadied completely.
Mo Zi recalled that she had indeed sprayed tea at that moment, and though she’d thought no one noticed, it still fell into observant eyes.
“So what of it? Talking about fierce ghosts, white bones, reed marshes you can’t escape from—as if you’d seen it with your own eyes, like a storyteller. Finding it interesting and amusing, with a mouthful of tea, I naturally sprayed it out. Is that not allowed?”
“He hasn’t seen it with his own eyes—he was storytelling. But you’ve seen it with your own eyes and know it’s not like that, which is why you found it amusing.” The one giving hints to Zhong An was naturally the Second Young Master. At the time, he’d sat closest to Mo Zi and heard clearly. “From what I know, the dangers of Jingyu Rapids are known to all in Luo Zhou, young and old alike—famous enough to terrify.”
“…” Oh no, careless, getting carried away. Also, had she mentioned whether this Second Young Master was formidable or not? She shouldn’t have provoked the tiger’s whiskers. “Those words make no sense. I’m bold and don’t fear ghosts. When people talk nonsense I just find it funny—does that mean I have the ability to take you across the river?”
“In my view, you laughed because of others’ ignorance, and also because you know clearly that private boats can indeed pass through Jingyu Rapids.” The Second Young Master’s words caused the smile to freeze on the face opposite him.
“That’s merely your speculation—how can you prove it?” Mo Zi didn’t care, planning to deny it to the death. In ancient times, national borders were clearly distributed, but unlike now when going abroad requires passports and customs, border management was relatively loose and people from both countries could enter and exit freely. But now was an extraordinary period—to prevent Da Qiu, crossing borders had become less easy, with very tight inspections.
“Nande doesn’t have much iron ore, but has one school of sword-making renowned throughout the land. The short swords produced by this school aren’t allowed to be privately bought and sold among common people—only Great Zhou’s official merchants can purchase them. The Flowing Water Autumn Frost sword at the waist of Wangqiu Pavilion’s guard captain seems quite sharp.” The Second Young Master spoke only halfway, knowing that this time the other party would definitely understand.
Mo Zi understood.
Never mind Mo Zi—even Cen Er understood.
Flowing Water Autumn Frost was a new short sword style created by the Eastern Sea school of Nande. Chief Manager Cen might not be a martial arts fanatic, but he was an absolute, devoted collector of weapons. Last time Mo Zi went out, he’d begged her to bring one back.
Few in Luo Zhou understood this. Chief Manager Cen usually wore it at his waist as an ordinary short sword—no one would ask or think much about it.
By coincidence, they’d encountered someone who recognized goods.
In modern terms, this sword was contraband, and this behavior was smuggling.