Before even entering Ding Gou’s room, they could hear Smelly Fish shouting.
“Damn it, moping around over such a minor injury—are you a man or not? Get up, get up, come aboard the boat with me for a stroll.”
“Minor injury?” Mo Zi asked Qiu Shuang. “Looking at your expression, I thought he’d lost a hand or foot.”
Qiu Shuang pursed her lips. “For some people, this injury is worse than death.” That “some people” naturally referred to Ding Gou.
Mo Zi grew curious. What injury would make Ding Gou feel it was worse than death? So upon entering, she first looked from the head down. Long robe, long boots, sitting in quite a proper posture. Since he was facing Smelly Fish, she could only see his profile—eyes were eyes, nose was nose. His speech was vigorous and full of life.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
Ding Gou had heard footsteps long ago. Not only did he not turn around, he simply turned his wide back to them. “I’m fine. You can all leave.”
“I agree with what Smelly Fish said. You’re a dignified man—what does this little injury amount to? All this concealment and dejection is really unbearable to watch.” Qiu Shuang went over and pulled at his shoulder.
“Mo Zi, look—you can’t see anything wrong, right?” As she pulled, she turned her head to give Mo Zi meaningful looks.
Ding Gou pushed her hand away. “You think Mo Zi is blind? That blade cut to the bone—how could she not see it?” He also wanted to curse. Of all places, why there? “Are you all waiting to see me looking like a ghost? Fine, look then!”
Physician Ji beside him was applying medicine and hurriedly told him not to move around.
Ding Gou didn’t care. He faced Mo Zi directly, angry but not at her. “Well? How is it?”
A fierce, ugly blood mark about two inches long appeared on his right cheek, completely destroying his unrestrained, carefree face, creating the visual effect of a major villain. The only fortunate thing was that the wound was below his eye—half an inch higher and he would have become a one-eyed dragon.
This kind of facial disfigurement—you couldn’t call it major, couldn’t call it minor, especially since Ding Gou was a handsome man. However, saying it was worse than death was a bit exaggerated.
Mo Zi’s composure was first-rate. Though shocked and regretful inside, her face remained impassive as she input optimistic energy. “Good thing your eye is fine.”
Ding Gou thought about it. “A blessing in misfortune. The blade tip was this close to my eyeball.” He pinched his thumb and index finger together—no gap.
“Are you thinking about your teachers right now?” Suddenly, the question took a sharp turn.
Ding Gou didn’t react immediately. “I only have one master. Besides, why would I think of him?”
“I’m talking about Laozi and Mengzi.” Daoism—non-action and non-governance, no strife under heaven. Ding Gou cultivated in the mountains, pursuing the way of non-action.
After Ding Gou understood, he said, “Non-action toward others, cherishing oneself—this is one of Daoism’s fundamentals. If you can’t even take care of yourself, how can you take care of others?”
“There’s another kind called narcissism. That’s when you only love yourself and don’t put anyone else in your eyes.” Secretly laughing at someone with psychological trauma was immoral, so she held it in.
“…” Ding Gou frowned, wanting to say he wasn’t narcissistic, but the wound hurt and made him gasp.
Smelly Fish laughed heartily upon hearing this. “Exactly right—he’s fake non-action, real narcissism.”
Mo Zi hadn’t finished her counseling. “Your martial arts are so advanced—could Wu Jian’s subordinates really have martial arts masters better than you?” If yes, then he had to accept it. If no, the reasons needed to be analyzed.
“…” Ding Gou was struck dumb and had to eat his loss in silence.
“It was to save me.” Qiu Shuang said with chagrin. “Some guy ambushed me. It was total chaos at the time—I didn’t notice. As a result, he was engaged with someone else, couldn’t free his hands, so he blocked the blade with his body. Who knew that bastard would aim for his face? Actually, he didn’t need to help me block it—a slash on the back wouldn’t kill anyone.”
“Wouldn’t kill anyone?” Ding Gou huffed angrily. “That’s because you encountered an idiot foot soldier. If it were me, I wouldn’t slash—I’d stab you straight in the heart from behind.”
So it was a hero saving a beauty. Saying he was non-action and narcissistic was actually wronging him.
Mo Zi, capable of correcting her errors, said, “The third reason you feel disfigurement is worse than death—”
Upon hearing this, Ding Gou said, “Who said I feel it’s worse than death? Who’s spreading rumors?”
Behind Ding Gou, Qiu Shuang maintained a serious expression, as if it had nothing to do with her whatsoever.
Mo Zi smiled inwardly. “The reason is, you now share the same anxiety as Smelly Fish.”
Smelly Fish pointed at his own nose. “Same as me what?”
“He’s afraid he won’t be able to find a wife.” Mo Zi stated it as a matter of course.
Smelly Fish started making noise. “Haha, Brother Mo just reminded me. Getting a wife is harder than conquering the world, just because I most resemble my mother—dark and plain, short stature. But Ding Gou, from now on we’re brothers in misfortune. If worst comes to worst, we’ll depend on my second brother’s son in our old age—he can take care of you too.”
“I’ll marry him.” A very soft voice, but everyone present could hear it.
Mo Zi looked at a certain young lady whose face was as red as a ripe apple, thinking this was exactly the sentence she’d been waiting for, yet pretended not to hear clearly. “Hm? What?” They all had more guts than her—daring to love and hate, ready to enter the marriage stage at the same time as confessing.
“I, Qiu Shuang, sixteenth generation disciple of Southern Flower Sword Sect, want to marry this person—” Her finger poked Ding Gou’s backbone, but what came out was the most beautiful voice from her heart. “As my husband.”
Zan Jin happened to enter. Though he hadn’t yet grasped the situation, his opening word was perfect. “Congratulations.”
Ding Gou was stunned. “You’re not serious. With this face of mine, won’t you have nightmares looking at it?”
“Who says I’m not serious?” Qiu Shuang moved in front of him, looking straight at him. “I’m marrying you as a person, not this face. The disfigurement is perfect—saves me from future troubles with certain people. I’m determined to follow Mo Zi’s example—when I marry, I marry someone who can wholeheartedly live life together. I won’t yield the wife’s position, but more importantly, I won’t yield the husband. No one else is allowed! If you’ve thought it through and aren’t afraid of my jealousy, we can bow in marriage ceremony anytime.”
“Miss Qiu, I never squeezed you out—you gave up on your own.” Don’t follow her example, especially implying she’s skilled at household scheming—she can’t bear it.
Qiu Shuang turned back and tossed her a smile. “Past matters—can we not bring them up at this moment?” She had followed her parents’ orders. “I never squeezed you out either, right?”
Mo Zi laughed dryly. “Smelly Fish, Zan Jin, it’s broad daylight—don’t light candles here. After saying congratulations, leave.”
Smelly Fish grinned with narrowed eyes. “Congratulations, congratulations. Since brother has found a good place to go, I won’t stop him. But seeing how sister-in-law usually loves to pick fights with you, you’d best also get married on the boat—guaranteed harmonious days.”
Physician Ji also offered congratulations, saying he’d come back later to apply medicine, and left with Mo Zi and the others.
As Mo Zi closed the door for Ding Gou and Qiu Shuang, she saw the two of them staring at each other, the atmosphere extremely subtle. Turning around, Smelly Fish’s bean-like eyes blinked, looking somewhat pitiful—a completely different person from his bold spirit moments ago.
“Brother Mo, when will I encounter a Qiu Shuang?”
Mo Zi choked on a laugh.
“You also like Miss Qiu?” Zan Jin raised his eyebrows. “Rush in right now and say so—there’s still time.”
Smelly Fish swept a leg at him. “Big blockhead, if you’re too stupid to understand, don’t open your mouth. Damn it, it’s been so long since I practiced with you—is your skin itching?”
Zan Jin swept a leg back. “Because every time we practice, your face gets beaten black and blue—afraid you’ll have even more trouble finding a wife. Being brothers, we have this life but no next—I was looking out for you.”
They started fighting with clanging and banging sounds.
Mo Zi acted as if she hadn’t seen anything, clasping her hands behind her back as she walked toward the eastern bay.
Physician Ji smiled. “We’re really one big lively family.”
“Does Qiu’er want to practice martial arts? If he wants to learn, I’ll have them start a martial arts class so they have somewhere to expend their energy.” Behind her came crashing sounds—who knows what they’d smashed. She was too lazy to turn around.
In the blink of an eye, it was the first month of the second year.
Prince Su suffered a great defeat and led thirty thousand remnant troops across Habu Polo to submit to Daqiu. Immediately after, Daqiu attacked Prince Su’s former fief and encountered stubborn resistance from the Xiao Family Army.
After intermittent fighting for several months, they only managed to capture two small border cities. But because the river surface froze over in the deep winter, fearing inadequate supplies of provisions and weapons and being trapped by Great Zhou in return, they had to withdraw to the opposite bank to wait for warmer weather. Great Zhou took advantage to reclaim lost territory.
In Yuan Cheng’s words, they were just half a breath away.
Meanwhile, the Righteous Yuan Army took advantage of Daqiu’s rest and reorganization to concentrate forces on extending the southern line, capturing another province—six to five. The Nande court lost its territorial advantage. Even under such dire circumstances, it was said that the Nande capital had music and song nightly, with imperial and noble families living as carefree as ever.
Good news also came from Yuling. The tens of thousands of original Yuling Army troops led by Jin Yin had reversed the passive situation of taking beatings. In these two months, they’d achieved several great victories and established a solid foundation.
Many things also happened around Mo Zi. Ding Gou and Qiu Shuang got married. Luo Ying became pregnant. Smelly Fish gained an elder sister-in-law. Of these, the third was most explosive.
The Immortal Mountain main camp was like a town. Those not fighting engaged in various trades and professions, including matchmakers. Fat Shrimp followed the proper route—asking a matchmaker to help him ask Hua Ying if she would marry him. Hua Ying wasn’t coy and readily agreed. Both had practical personalities. They chose the same day as Ding Gou and Qiu Shuang for the wedding ceremony—double happiness, expenses halved. Only after getting married did they learn that Hua Ying was Gate Master Lei’s only daughter, making Fat Shrimp the Thunder Gate’s eldest son-in-law. Father and daughter—one short and one tall, one thin and one stout—showed absolutely no family resemblance. Instead, Hua Ying and Fat Shrimp looked like a married couple—from appearance to build to personality, a super perfect match full of good fortune.
Though the weather was freezing cold, the eastern bay shipyard presented a scene of bustling activity. Six large shipways lined up in a row—boats could launch directly into water upon completion. They also put Hong Yu’s dry dock design to use, building four large sheds. From the initial two or three boats to now being able to build ten boats simultaneously, this shipyard had achieved the same output rate as Hong Yu in just a few short months. Assembly line methods allowed ordinary people to get started quickly. The raging war outside united everyone’s will—not fearing hardship or exhaustion, they consciously worked in two shifts.
Cloud Ridge was a great treasure mountain. Here forests stretched for hundreds of li—not only endless fir, pine, and maple wood, but also quite a few rare and precious timbers. Both sturdy and excellent at floating, they could build strong ships with enhanced combat power.
As Mo Zi and Wei Qing were going over the timetable for testing each boat, someone walked in.
“Mo Zi.” Yuan Cheng carried a food box. “While it’s hot, let’s eat together.”
Wei Qing was used to this. “Meal time again? Then I’ll go eat.”
Yuan Cheng didn’t give his wife special treatment. Here, from him to ordinary soldiers, everyone ate the same food. It was just that because they were often not in the main camp, he’d formed the habit of definitely eating a meal with her before departing.
“Leaving again?” Mo Zi no longer accompanied Yuan Cheng on campaigns. The task she now shouldered was far more important than personally going to battle.
Yuan Cheng handed her a bowl of steaming hot rice and picked out meat slices from the dishes for her. “Mm, but this time, come with me.”
Mo Zi lifted her head. “Where to?”
“Yuling.” Yuan Cheng put a chopstick of greens in his mouth and chewed slowly.