The words about possibly becoming an official merchant had originally been spoken by Mo Zi. Though somewhat irresponsible, or purely meant as consolation, if Qiu Sanniang truly wanted to walk that path, it could be considered a lucky coincidence. Therefore, she promised to help ask Yuan Cheng, and also told Qiu Sanniang to be mentally prepared—when asking someone to handle matters, one always had to provide appropriate gifts.
After finishing the meal and returning to the Yuan Mansion, the young servant lighting her way said the master was still at the Grand Councilor’s mansion.
Entering her own courtyard, Luo Ying helped her change clothes while chattering about matters concerning Miss Qiu Shuang.
“Both you and the master weren’t home for the festival, yet she could still create quite a commotion. She made a whole table of fine dishes, but when the masters didn’t appear, she invited the stewards and head butler from various departments. As a result, only the head butler went to represent everyone, saying that with the masters away from home, they couldn’t casually sit at the table to eat. I guess since she only arrived yesterday, she doesn’t know the rules of our mansion. The master had strictly ordered long ago that everyone should properly handle their own duties and responsibilities—unless the masters give permission, don’t let others order you about at will.”
“Uh? I think I’ve ordered stewards to deliver invitations.” Had she been imperious? But at the time, the other party hadn’t said it wasn’t allowed.
“How is that the same? When you entered the mansion, miss, the head butler told us you were also a master now, and whatever orders you gave had to be followed. If it had been you, miss, inviting the stewards to dinner today, who wouldn’t have come?” Luo Ying held the clothes with the posture of someone about to go wash them.
“It’s so late—wash them tomorrow.” Mo Zi already understood Luo Ying’s work habits. “You’re not someone who loves gossip either. How do you know such details?”
“They also came to our courtyard to invite you, miss. I said you wouldn’t be back for dinner tonight, and Miss Qiu Shuang’s maid invited Hua Ying and me to the central courtyard to eat and view the flower lanterns, saying there would be red envelopes to receive. Of course we remembered the rules—how could we go? Later the head butler issued a notice that everyone should attend to their duties and not slack off when the masters are away, becoming presumptuous just because someone invites them.” Luo Ying weighed the clothes in her hands. “I’ll still go wash them. Otherwise I’ll keep thinking about it and won’t sleep well.”
Mo Zi carried a lamp and walked to the rear archway. From the side emerged a man in close-fitting blue-black clothing.
“Earlier someone was scouting the area—it was a maid of the new guest. We had no choice but to come forward to stop her. That maid said she was lost—hard to tell if it’s true or false. However, I fear the other party will become suspicious of this place because of this.” He said.
“I understand.” Mo Zi pondered. “When Master Yuan or General Hua returns, please inform them.”
The man in blue-black nodded with cupped fists, then concealed himself in the night.
Pushing open the archway, Mo Zi entered this even smaller courtyard. In the courtyard were artificial hills and flowing water, as well as a room. Lighting the lamps in the room one by one, she picked up a roll of paper to examine carefully, then began carving wood.
The room was spacious with only a long table, one chair, and a row of shelves against the wall. One end of the table was covered with white paper, the other end piled with wooden boards and tools in some order that others couldn’t discern. On the shelves were three or four ship models, but the craftsmanship was quite crude—crooked and cracked, looking ready to fall apart at any moment. This was completely unlike what she normally made at Hongyu—they didn’t seem to come from the same person’s hands at all.
This courtyard within a courtyard was her workshop. Outside, the best Qianniu Guards under Hua Yi’s command stood watch, so she could work here at ease designing the ship models she wanted.
From the moment she resolved to face the time of Great Qiu and chaos, she began making preparations. The first step was raising funds. Therefore, as a middleman, she collected forty thousand taels of personal savings from both Qiu Sanniang and Jin Yin—to be used for buying materials. The second step was making models. But she had tried four times and failed four times. Tonight she would try the fifth time.
Mo Zi never easily became discouraged. As a ship engineer, failure only meant advancing one step closer to success.
When she finished making the ship model, she heard the third watch drum outside. She was startled that it had gotten so late, but didn’t intend to stop there. Putting on an outer garment, holding a lamp in one hand and the ship model in the other, she walked outside. The wind blew fiercely, howling incessantly, making her involuntarily shiver. Placing the ship in the water, disregarding the cold, she raised the lamp high to watch its progress. It turned out this artificial hill and flowing water wasn’t for aesthetics, but her simulation based on memories of several treacherous waterways in Great Qiu—also the culprit that nearly destroyed those few ship models.
The section of waterway being tested represented the upper reaches of a river—wide open with no cover, often subject to strong winds with high-frequency waves. The ship model being tested was a gull boat for reconnaissance. Its advantage was a light hull and fast speed, able to escape silently when discovered by enemy ships, using the vast river as natural camouflage. Its disadvantage was fragility—with almost zero defense or attack capability. Once pursued from behind or encountering severe weather, death was certain. She wanted to increase its defensive capability while improving structural stability without affecting speed, so she had put considerable thought into the selection of wood materials.
This time, she used ironwood and pagoda wood. Pagoda wood for the bottom, ironwood for the freeboard. Ironwood’s density was greater than water—it would sink when encountering water. However, according to the principle of buoyancy, by widening and thickening the ship’s bottom hold to a certain degree, not just ironwood but even iron could float. Ironwood was hard and could withstand attacks from flying arrows and fire. By adding paddle wheels, the impact of ironwood’s weight on ship speed could be reduced.
Sitting on a low rock, her shadow spread out in the golden glow of the glazed lamp as she quietly watched the fifth gull boat glide across the water surface, finally achieving the ideal test data.
Letting out a breath, she became lost in thought. *The Legend of the Flower Goddess*—she had finished reading it. A strange feeling lingered in her heart.
The Flower Goddess’s married name was Song, her maiden family name unknown. Coincidentally or not, she shared the same surname. The Flower Goddess lived in Song County, Yuling. The book said most people in that small city were surnamed Song. There were countless people surnamed Song in the world—this didn’t constitute a reason for the strange feeling.
Before the Flower Goddess and her husband moved to Song County, the people there were very poor. Because Song County had high terrain, the soil wasn’t fertile, the mountains were barren and water scarce, plus there was a group of incompetent officials with no ideas. The Flower Goddess discovered it was difficult to access water sources and the soil was cracked so flowers couldn’t be grown. She thought day and night and designed a type of water conduit. Her skillful craftsman husband personally led its construction, actually solving the major water shortage problem in that area. Her husband’s left hand possessed divine ability—his skill with knife and axe astounded ghosts and gods, able to carve dead objects to life. But his character was proud and he was unwilling to socialize much with others. Fortunately the Flower Goddess was kind and could always mobilize her husband to improve many farming tools for the peasants, bringing Song County rare harvest years.
The Flower Goddess’s beauty lay not only in her heart but also in her appearance, yet extremely few people had seen her. The book’s author claimed to be a good friend of the Song couple and had seen Madam Song a few times, each time astonished by her heavenly beauty. Between the lines, one could even detect the author’s deep admiration for the Flower Goddess.
*The Legend of the Flower Goddess* ended in tragedy. A devastating fire took the lives of this immortal couple, and their pair of clever, lovable precious daughters’ whereabouts became unknown. The author lamented fate’s injustice—how could good people not receive good rewards? Therefore, this book preserved the Flower Goddess’s story, allowing those with affinity to commemorate that floral spirit and accumulate blessings for her next life, for eternal peace through all lifetimes.
The strange part lay in the devastating fire and the pair of daughters, which seemed to connect with Dou Lu’s dreams. But even if they connected, it still seemed impossible. Could this mean suspecting that Father wasn’t their biological father? Though their father and brothers only knew how to exploit the two sisters, she had always thought that favoring sons over daughters was the main reason.
Thump thump!
Someone was knocking—no, pounding on the door.
The hidden guards hadn’t stopped them, so it should be someone from the mansion.
Mo Zi approached with a trace of alertness, walking quickly over and asking through the door, “Who is it?”
“It’s me.” Ming Nian’s voice, unable to conceal his anxiety.
“The front door must be locked. How did you get in?” It was truly the middle of the night. She opened the door.
Ming Nian reached out to grab her lamp. “What time is it now—still asking questions? Hurry and come with me. I’m telling you, tonight General Hua isn’t here, and the master has no capable hands by his side. That woman plus Nanny Jiao—they seem to have very powerful martial arts skills. Who knows if they’ll take advantage of this situation, and then you’ll truly have to yield your position.”
Mo Zi had to jog to keep up. “Ming Nian, you’ve read quite a few books—your speech should be comprehensible to others. What are you saying? What’s the current situation on Yuan Cheng’s side?”
But Ming Nian stopped talking and ran faster with his head down.
Mo Zi heard footsteps behind her and turned to see A Yue. She signaled that it wasn’t necessary to come, but A Yue went her own way, always maintaining a distance of two zhang. A Yue and A Hao were Nanny Jiao’s people—she didn’t know if at this moment this was conscientious protection or surveillance.
Yuan Cheng’s residence was adjacent to Mo Zi’s. Out one door, across a flower bed, and the opposite door was his.
“Good thing we live close. Nanny Jiao and the others live at the far west end—even flying over would take two quarters of an hour.” Despite seeing A Yue following, Ming Nian still spoke his heart. When they neared Yuan Cheng’s bedchamber, he made a turn and blocked A Yue. “You go in quickly. Whatever you see, make sure to think about how well the master treats you normally—how many times has he found people to treat this injury or that injury for you? As the saying goes, raise soldiers for a thousand days to use them for one moment. There’s also a saying: fortune favors the bold.”
Did he even know what he was saying? Mo Zi pushed the door open and entered.
Her back foot had barely touched the ground when the door was tightly shut by Ming Nian outside, followed by clattering sounds.
“Ming Nian? Why are you locking the door?” Hey, what’s this about? Mo Zi couldn’t pull the door open.
“Miss Mo Zi is so clever—do you really need to ask? Of course it’s to prevent you from running out.” Ming Nian’s voice was no longer anxious now, unable to conceal some amusement. “I just threw the key into the lake. Soon there won’t be a single person in this courtyard—shouting won’t help.”
Mo Zi was left dizzy and confused by him, her head full of muddy paste. “Ming Nian, open the door for me!” Could there truly be no one trustworthy in this world? Were they all scheming against her one after another?
Silent as death.
Ming Nian really had left.
Not only had he left, even A Yue gave her no response.
Mo Zi was about to pound on the door to make a bigger commotion when suddenly, a sigh came from behind her.
It was Yuan Cheng!
Ming Nian hadn’t deceived her? Then why make it so mysterious, and speak as if she were going to heroically sacrifice herself?
Turning around, borrowing the moonlight through the rice paper windows, slowly adapting to the darkness, she walked toward the source of the sigh. Lifting the thick curtain, she discovered there was light inside.
Not candlelight, but pearl light. Several night-luminous pearls were casually scattered on the desk, illuminating the entire room with a bone-chilling cold.
Shivering, she found that familiar figure. The room had no floor heating, yet he was wearing only a single-layer garment with rolled-up sleeves, writing.
“Yuan Cheng, aren’t you cold?” This room was like an ice cellar.
What answered her was another sigh. Except this time, listening to it, there was also a hint of labored breathing.