In the blink of an eye, Bai He was getting married.

On this day, Qiu Sanniang brought Hong Mei and Lü Ju to see her off. Lü Ju cried the loudest, practically as if once married, they’d never see each other again—she was that heartbroken and distressed.

Xiao Yi picked at her ear, saying this wasn’t crying at a wedding, but wailing at a funeral.

This immediately drew Hong Mei’s protest, saying on such a joyous occasion, one couldn’t speak such inauspicious words.

Bai He remained good-tempered as always, quickly saying it didn’t matter—days were lived by oneself, not ruined by inauspicious words.

Even Qiu Sanniang fell somewhat silent. She personally combed Bai He’s hair and placed a gold-traced red lacquer dowry box in her hands. Inside was a full five thousand taels in banknotes.

Bai He opened it and looked, stunned. She insisted on refusing, but Qiu Sanniang’s cold expression frightened her into accepting it. However, she cried so hard that Lü Ju and Hong Mei had no choice but to redo her makeup.

Mo Zi couldn’t bear this succession of tears and sat outside in the garden. Somehow, she also felt a bit melancholy. When a woman married, she could never be as carefree as when she was an unmarried girl. In everything she had to first consider her small family, and once she had children, she’d have to worry about those little ones, worrying until her hair turned completely white.

But Bai He would be happy, wouldn’t she? She also had a small box in her hand to give Bai He as dowry.

She was transferring the land Yuan Cheng had registered in her name to Bai He’s name. It was a small estate with quite abundant yields. Bai He loved researching culinary arts and always dreamed of having a small estate to grow various herbs she liked for developing seasonings. So she wanted to use this to thank this woman who had cared for her like an elder sister.

“From far away, I heard crying. Looking closer, there’s even someone outside feeling dejected.” Sister Xiu arrived, her maids behind her carrying two trunks. “Mo Zi, among all of us here, you have the strongest character. If you shed tears, I’d definitely have to cry along too.”

Mo Zi stood up with a smile. “Who wants to cry? On such a joyous day, I can’t laugh fast enough. Where’s Sister Wuyou?”

“She’s not feeling well.” She leaned close to Mo Zi’s ear and said something.

Hearing this, Mo Zi clapped her hands. “Such wonderful news! Congratulations, congratulations! Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“It’s still early before a hundred days, and it seems unstable. We didn’t dare tell people outside, fearing our sisters would rejoice for nothing. Now we don’t dare let her do anything—we even restrict her walking. She’s twenty-eight years old, and it’s her first pregnancy. She’s not nervous, but we are.” Sister Xiu’s face was full of smiles. “I think after meeting you all, good fortune keeps coming. Luo Niang just had hers, and now Wuyou has one too. Once Bai He marries today, who knows, she might conceive right away too. This blessing just keeps falling from the sky.”

“Does Alliance Leader Fu know?” Mo Zi quietly asked.

“Him?” Sister Xiu pursed her lips. “He doesn’t know. He came for just a few days in the twelfth month, then a family letter called him back. But it happened during those very days, so he’s made up for what he owed Wuyou. Wuyou said not to tell him for now. Anyway, when he comes again, he’ll naturally know, though that might have to wait until after the Qingming ancestor worship.”

That belly would be five months along by then. Mo Zi thought to herself, how could men who seemed so capable outside all be helpless when it came to unrest in the inner quarters?

“Also, for the child’s sake, Wuyou wants to close Wuyou Pavilion. After Mochou married, she lost interest… and started being interested in other businesses. I think that’s good too—this way I can even bring my daughter to live together.” Sister Xiu’s daughter had always been raised by others in the countryside.

“Rather than closing, why not become the behind-the-scenes proprietor? Without direct management, she wouldn’t need to show her face—just hand it to capable and honest people to handle, checking the books and collecting silver every two months.” Mo Zi believed that since the business was good, there was no need for discrimination based on the industry. Closing Wuyou Pavilion would naturally just mean new pleasure houses opening, with no guarantee they’d be kind or unkind. In fact, madams like Wuyou and Sister Xiu were very rare.

Sister Xiu nodded. “Your idea is also good. For those of us who can’t rely on men, we must always prepare for our old age ourselves. I’ll go back and discuss it with Wuyou.” Having said this, she pulled Mo Zi toward the bride’s room.

They’d said joyous occasions shouldn’t involve crying, yet Sister Xiu cried too. Luo Niang, who arrived later, was pregnant but cried all the same, requiring Chen Niang to console her repeatedly.

As for the new Women’s Alliance member Yang Qiao, she had gone to burn incense with her mother. She could only send someone with gifts and wrote a blessing card, also saying she’d pray for an early birth of a noble son for Bai He.

Seeing off a bride was truly a process both happy and melancholy, unchanged from ancient times to the present.

When Bai He was about to board the sedan chair, Mo Zi presented her gift, causing Bai He to call for the sedan to stop. She got down and they embraced while crying again. Amid a chorus of complaints that she’d picked the wrong time to give her gift, they parted from Bai He.

“I wonder if those newly purchased maids know the rules and can do their work?” Lü Ju watched the bridal sedan depart into the distance, asking worriedly.

“Why don’t you go along as part of the dowry?” Qiu Sanniang recovered quickly and had already started teasing.

All the women laughed.

“If you ask me, it’s this rule that’s wrong. It’s not like she’s marrying to another province—why can’t people from the bride’s family go to observe the ceremony and attend the banquet?” Mo Zi had opinions about this.

This statement sparked everyone’s discussion. The more they talked, the more they felt it made sense, and they planned to go demand celebratory wine. In the end, it was Sister Xiu with her deepest experience who, with one remark about not embarrassing the new bride, dispelled the notion. Behind closed doors, they had the maids prepare a large table of food and drink, celebrating together.

After Bai He’s wedding passed, time flew by as if it had grown wings.

On this day, it was already the first of the third month. Spring filled the waters, and the peach trees had formed flower buds the size of fingertips.

Throughout the second month, aside from going to the Shipping Bureau every other day for half a day to handle affairs, Mo Zi spent all her other time at Hongyu. She’d already dealt with the Shipping Bureau officials’ covert strike against her. It actually wasn’t difficult, and she didn’t need to lodge complaints. She submitted a memorial requesting His Majesty promote Academician Qi and Zheng Wen, and citing that many officials were on leave thus making staff insufficient, she selected seven or eight people from the new ranked graduates who understood engineering matters and were waiting for vacant posts, temporarily bringing them over to help.

The Shipping Bureau had twenty to thirty officials, but the lazy atmosphere of procrastination and obstruction had existed for a long time, making work efficiency extremely poor. The people Mo Zi transferred over were all eager to try and anxious to perform—young people who could do the work of three or four. They actually smoothly took over all the bureau’s affairs, leaving no room for those striking officials to interfere, and needing none of their approvals. With a single Grand Director’s official seal, she even completed tasks that had been backlogged for half a year.

At the shipyard, Mo Zi established an external accounting audit system, conducting random inspections of timber and various auxiliary material quality at irregular intervals. For every new ship launched, she personally boarded to test it. If it didn’t meet standards or had problems, the chief overseer bore direct responsibility. As a result, problems were found with several ships. When Mo Zi investigated, Yin Shi actually led his subordinates in causing trouble. For such a small matter, even the Emperor didn’t inquire. After she reported to the Grand Secretariat and the Ministry of Personnel, she gave Yin Shi indefinite leave. The newly appointed Master Craftsman Yang Buzheng and Min Song jointly assumed the chief overseer’s position—handling small matters independently, discussing major matters together.

This move of hers beat the grass to startle the snakes, catching the opposition off guard. Those “put on leave” were anxious and fearful of truly being let go. Having lost their leader, they didn’t dare make any more moves.

His Majesty completely acquiesced. The Grand Secretariat and the Ministries of Personnel, Works, and Revenue fully supported her. When she needed people, they gave people; when she needed silver, they gave silver; when she needed materials, they gave materials. For a time, the atmosphere at the Shipping Bureau and shipyard greatly improved. By month’s end, everything was completely on track, conducting all affairs more efficiently than before. That month’s new ships were all of solid quality.

Not only had she not lodged complaints, but she’d done things even better. The Shipping Bureau Director was left with unspoken grievances. The joint memorial that was to impeach her could only be set aside as he anxiously “vacationed” at home.

With five days until departure, after testing the ship’s launch at Hongyu and sailing through various river sections, Mo Zi finally achieved the ideal specifications she’d designed and could breathe a sigh of relief.

This dual-purpose cargo and passenger tower ship, fifty meters long, fifteen meters high, and twenty-five meters wide, would accompany her to Daqiu. This ship was manufactured for the first time in a floating dock on water. Over a hundred Hongyu shipwrights and more than twenty ship craftsmen worked day and night for a month and a half to complete it. According to Min Song, it was the finest he’d ever seen.

Speaking of Min Song, the way he looked at her was often strange. If she weren’t unself-absorbed and didn’t know his marriage was imminent, she’d think he had feelings for her. Moreover, the entire Min family looked at her somewhat oddly. Old Master Min Yu invited her to dinner three or four times. Though she was so busy she had no time to sleep, he was still an elder she respected. After declining several times, she went once. The whole family surrounded her chatting endlessly. Later it became somewhat absurd—asking if she remembered what her mother looked like, where she lived at age four, whether she was with her brother then, and so forth. When she said four years old was too young and she didn’t remember, even the Min family patriarch revealed obvious disappointment. They also asked about Doulü. She couldn’t very well say she’d been captured as a hostage, only that she wasn’t in the capital. Their expressions made her feel she’d said something wrong.

After disembarking, she announced today they’d hold a celebration, prompting cheers throughout as people rushed to spread the news.

Ever since Hongtu closed, Hongyu had become the only shipyard in this area. Moreover, with good quality and fast ship production, business orders had already been booked through next year’s midpoint. The deposit on the books exceeded ten thousand taels. The welfare for people working at Hongyu was famously good. Just the New Year’s red envelopes she gave to Wei Qing, Ding Xiu, Niu Gao and others exceeded a hundred taels each, not to mention paid leave, regular free medical care, and opening schools for the children with hired teachers. Outside Hongyu, a village was built specifically for shipyard workers’ families to live in—a scene of prosperity and abundance.

“That big boss from Yajiang Freight asked us to squeeze out a schedule for a five-thousand-bushel cargo ship no matter what. He even wanted to slip silver into my hands privately. I said we’re really completely full, otherwise I’d have to ask you to know.” Wei Qing was now effectively Hongyu’s chief overseer. With Mo Zi busy in two places, many matters relied on him to handle.

“How much silver?” Mo Zi responded with an “oh.”

“A thousand taels in banknotes.” Wei Qing honestly reported.

“Not little.” Mo Zi smiled. “I permit you to accept his silver. You can save it for marrying a wife. Back then, building him a ship was so troublesome—picky and stingy. Clearly not understanding much, he insisted I explain watertight bulkheads to him. I talked until my throat was hoarse, and he finally just said one word: ‘good.’ For such a large ship of five thousand bushels, if he adds more silver, we’ll schedule him. However much you’re satisfied with—just calculate all the shipwrights’ overtime pay into it. We can’t let Hongyu take a loss.”

Wei Qing agreed and turned to get busy.

Mo Zi returned to her small room to change clothes. There was someone lying on the bed—she couldn’t help but laugh.

The bed curtain was half-lowered, half the quilt covered, but the head was hidden while the tail showed, revealing a half-body of black robes.

A refined gentleman—it was Yuan Cheng.