Several ship platforms were visible through the window.
The fervor on these platforms burned even more intensely than the morning sunlight. Sweat and river water wove together into golden light, enveloping heaven and earth as one. The excitement that Hongyu’s navigation through Ghost Gate had brought people several days ago seemed to have transformed into soaring spirit, displaying itself with exceptional vigor and satisfaction amid this clamorous wood dust.
However, Old Master Min only heard buzzing in his ears as he raised his brows and stared at the person sitting there with a beaming smile. If he hadn’t misheard, he could only lament that though quite advanced in years, he shouldn’t take everything for granted.
Today was the day Brother Mo and the others would leave. He’d personally come to see them off but had been invited in alone.
This Mo San’er possessed shipbuilding techniques whose depths others didn’t know. The two ships that had emerged from Baihua River that day—before he could examine them closely, she’d had the four people she’d brought dismantle them, even tearing the sails into strips of cloth. He’d heard Min Song and Chang Ji speak vaguely, disconnected from beginning to end, but the scattered words and phrases he’d grasped made him—having built ships his whole life and observed ships his whole life—desperately wish to see it with his own eyes.
The Min family’s Nine Treasure-Making Techniques were things craftsmen throughout the realm thirsted for but couldn’t obtain. Unexpectedly, even he with the Min surname would have a day when he thirsted for another’s techniques. Fang Ming had discussed with him privately, his words expressing great curiosity about Hongyu’s employer. However, he was only curious about this Mo San’er. With such a refined appearance of only eighteen or nineteen years—just how exceptional were the skills in those hands?
However, after Mo San’er said one sentence, he was dumbstruck.
“You… you say…” When was the last time he’d been this stupefied? Fifteen or sixteen? Seventeen or eighteen?
“I said I’m a woman.” Having lain here recuperating for several days and considered carefully, Mo Zi had decided to tell Old Master Min the truth. “My name is Mo Zi. Mo as in ink. Zi as in purple.”
“You are… a woman?” Old Master Min remained shocked, though his eyeballs could now move. Suddenly recalling—no wonder these past days the one coming in and out caring for her had been a young maiden. Min Song had even pursed his lips saying this Mo San’er had high skills but questionable character, enjoying female companionship.
“Yes, Old Master.” Mo Zi enunciated each word clearly. “Originally, not mentioning my female identity would be fine. No profession has explicit regulations forbidding women, but Old Master Min is the industry leader in shipbuilding. And you’re an extremely open-minded and reasonable elder—not being truthful with you would trouble my conscience.” Meaning—not telling him wouldn’t be wrong on her part; telling him was her respecting the old gentleman.
“True, there’s no regulation that women cannot build ships, but—” He’d never seen a female shipwright. Decades dealing with a yard full of men. There were women too, mostly family members—bringing a meal was the extent of it.
“Nüwa could mend the heavens, Empress Wu could claim the throne. In ancient times, there was Hua Mulan who joined the army in her father’s place. Why can’t there be Mo Zi building ships for her master today?” Enough with the “buts”—there were no buts. She acknowledged that ancient women wanting to get ahead and accomplish anything truly had it very difficult, but she had pressure and no time—she could only choose to ignore social opinion. If they had the ability, let them write it into the laws of the Great Zhou in black and white—regulations forbidding women from leaving their homes.
Min Yu couldn’t help but secretly admire her. This woman’s words were firm and definitive, her conduct appropriately measured—truly not an ordinary woman. Being broad-minded and open-hearted, he adapted very quickly to this sudden revelation.
“I can accept it. Others may not necessarily. Miss Mo Zi, I’ll still call you Mo San’er and won’t speak of this to others. The days ahead are long. When Hongyu has flourished magnificently, even if a woman is in charge, who could say half a word against it? However, I must also remind you—the shipyard business differs from other trades. As a woman in this profession, you’re probably absolutely unique. Ordinarily you’ll be dealing with shipwrights. A young lady’s reputation—I fear in the future some may maliciously slander you using this. You must be aware of this in your heart.” Not only did Old Master Min accept Mo Zi’s female identity, he even helped her kindly and offered her guidance.
“The pure are naturally pure.” Mo Zi smiled lightly, rose, clasped her hands together, and bowed deeply. “Thank you, Old Master. You truly are an extraordinary person doing extraordinary things.”
Infected by her relaxed smile, Old Master Min also laughed. “You’re the extraordinary person doing extraordinary things—I can’t compare to you. In this world, women have it difficult outside. Take care of yourself. Truthfully, originally I had no curiosity about your employer, but now I very much want to know—what kind of person could employ a woman for such matters?”
Speaking to here, he suddenly gained some understanding but didn’t dare confirm it casually. “Could it be—the same as you?” A man wouldn’t employ a woman, so naturally only a woman could!
Mo Zi merely smiled and bowed again, only saying, “Old Master, my four brothers are still waiting outside. Moreover, having been out these several days, my household will worry—I shouldn’t linger long. If there’s an opportunity in the future and Old Master permits it, I’ll come again to observe and learn.”
Old Master Min, however, considered her non-answer equivalent to an answer and chuckled. “Living to such an advanced age, originally things grew increasingly dull, but unexpectedly these past days’ sights and sounds truly make me want to live another hundred years. I see you’re frank and open—do those four outside know your situation?”
This time Mo Zi nodded, answering readily, “They’ve known for a long time. Since we’re to face life and death together, naturally there can be no deception.”
Old Master Min repeatedly said “good,” immediately laughing as he opened the door and made a gesture of invitation.
Mo Zi’s body remained weak, and Luo Ying quickly stepped through the door to support her.
Waiting outside, full of puzzlement about what the old master and the other person were discussing, Min Song saw this and pursed his lips again.
Mo Zi happened to see this. Walking past him, she paused slightly, minded to tease him a bit.
“Young Master Song, being diligent at the yard all day is naturally good, but excessive diligence becomes stifling. Since we can now be considered friends made through conflict, having also shared a boat and faced death together—if you don’t want to be bored anymore someday, come find me at Hongyu. The capital’s Wangqiu Pavilion in Yuhe District has three beauties—fine wine, fine food, and fine women—far more interesting than Blade Mountain, Fire Sea, or Ghost Gate trials. I’ll be the host—we brothers can all enjoy ourselves together.” Finishing, she deliberately exaggerated a slick, oily smile.
She knew this rather refined Young Master Song found her lack of propriety very annoying.
Sure enough, Min Song snorted coldly. “Who wants to go enjoy themselves with you?” He could tell—this fellow had two faces, one on water and one on land.
“Not coming then.” Chouyu muttered from behind. “Making a sour face for whose benefit? Just don’t say later that brothers aren’t loyal, not including you in good things.”
Zan Jin even patted Min Song’s arm. “Come on. Why not come? If Brother Mo’s treating, definitely enough to fill you up.”
Hey—these Three Trials had made her people become extremely familiar with Min Song.
Mo Zi secretly found it amusing and cleared her throat with a cough. “Everyone stop talking—such matters can’t be forced. Young Master Song must be planning to work hard, seclude himself for ten years, and become a resounding figure like Old Master Min. We who lack ambition mustn’t lead him astray.”
Min Song had no words, not knowing where the other party had discerned things like secluding for ten years.
Old Master Min heard clearly up ahead. He wanted to laugh, but thinking that if Min Song learned of Mo Zi’s female identity, his prideful spirit would inevitably suffer another blow, he couldn’t laugh anymore.
Chang Ji listening from the side interjected, “If Young Master Song won’t come, I will. I’m a country bumpkin—never even heard of this Wangqiu Pavilion. Brother Mo passed the trial so brilliantly, not treating everyone wouldn’t make sense. I won’t ask for much—one jar of good wine will do.” Min Song glared at him; he acted as if he hadn’t seen it.
Mo Zi naturally agreed happily, releasing Luo Ying’s arm to clasp her fists toward Chang Ji. “Big Brother Chang, thank you and Chen Zhi for guiding us—otherwise we couldn’t even have glimpsed the Three Trials. Another day when you and my brothers gather in the capital, we must drink until drunk before returning.”
Chen Zhi had still felt somewhat depressed, thinking his qualifications insufficient to connect with a capable person like Brother Mo. Hearing she hadn’t left him out, he immediately grinned widely.
Afterward, Mo Zi took Luo Ying onto the carriage while the other four mounted horses. Suddenly hearing Min Song call out “Brother Mo” from outside, she lifted the window curtain and poked out half her head.
Min Song unexpectedly, beyond everyone’s expectations, bent at the waist in a deep bow. “Thank you, Brother Mo and brothers, for your aid. Min Song will remember this kindness firmly and will certainly repay it in the future.”
Looking up, his eyes met Mo Zi’s directly. “You and I—until we meet again.”
“Naturally we will meet again. If Young Master Song doesn’t like going to Wangqiu Pavilion, Wuyou Pavilion isn’t bad either. I can’t invite Miss Mouchou, but Madam Wuyou and I do have a passing acquaintance—she shouldn’t neglect—” She went on slickly and oily, having passed the Three Trials, feeling very pleased.
Though this Min Song possessed natural pride, his character was very excellent. What made her feel most rare and precious was his approach of being able to correct mistakes when he knew them. A person being proud—no problem. The key was being able to set pride aside when necessary. Therefore, Mo Zi didn’t mind making friends with him.
Risheng shipyard was only half a day’s fast ride from the capital. Everyone knew Wuyou Pavilion, and immediately someone snickered.
Min Song ground his teeth. “Brother—Mo! Fare you well!” Flicking his sleeve, he turned and strode away directly.
Old Master Min pointed at Mo Zi several times through the air, meaning she’d gone too far.
Mo Zi nodded slightly, smiling as she lowered the curtain.
The carriage clattered along, before long leaving Risheng and galloping toward the capital.
Another half-month passed.
This day, the gatekeeper of Yuan Mansion received a card and a wooden box, hastily delivering them inside and handing them to the lord’s personal attendant Ming Nian.
Ming Nian held the card in one hand, the box tucked under his arm, and walked to the back garden. He heard waves of laughter—a group of men dressed in fine robes were gathered around a fire drinking wine and eating meat.
“This old one has eaten countless delicacies, mostly amid fine scenery, fine songs, and fine dances, long finding it all dull and unbearable. Receiving Lord Yuan’s invitation, I also thought it would be an ordinary banquet and had considered declining, but Old Chen said Lord Yuan never disappoints, so I came once. Unexpectedly, the feast is arranged amid wild interest—such wonderful grape wine, such wonderful freshly roasted meat—truly interesting!” An old man with a goatee ate a fragrant rabbit leg while watching dancing girls perform gracefully amid the grass.
“If the lords enjoy it, Yuan shall invite everyone several more times. We’ll also learn from the military generals—go up the mountain to hunt, spread the feast on the ground, good wine and good banquet, lest they think only they can be carefree. Little do they know we civil officials need not leave home to be equally unrestrained.” Today Yuan Cheng bound his hair with a wooden ring. As his head tilted, his hair ends fell to his shoulder. Wearing a loose black silk robe with a low collar and flowing sleeves—the banquet probably past halfway, and meeting the hottest days, with somewhat wild abandon, eyes narrowed and lips pursed, a glimpse of white jade chest, sleeves half-rolled revealing lotus-root-colored arms.
Everyone voiced their approval repeatedly.
Ming Nian stood still in the pavilion.
Yuan Cheng knew he had business, so he signaled the dancing girls to come forward and offer wine. He himself apologized to the group of lustfully dazed officials as if having drunk too much, swaying slightly as he rose. But the farther he walked, the straighter his form became, the lighter his smile grew.
When he reached Ming Nian, where was there half a trace of drunkenness?