This day was the last day of Hongyu’s hiring, and still many people came while few stayed.
Only upon truly beginning to engage with this profession did Mo Zi discover that indeed there weren’t many craftsmen with skills and experience. Most people were laborers relatively capable of rough work—carrying and hauling was fine, but basic skills like planing wood and nailing boards were uneven. As for looking at ship diagrams and being able to explain them, hardly one in ten could do so. Though everyone came from impoverished classes and many urgently needed work, she was after all spending Qiu Sanniang’s silver to get things done. With such a stingy allocation of only two thousand taels, plus having no orders on hand, she couldn’t support large numbers of ordinary workers idly, and had no choice but to ask them to leave.
By the time the sun was about to set, she’d hired a total of eight shipwrights, including the two she’d encountered in the alley back then. The handsome man from Yuling was called Ding Xiu, and the bald bull-nosed one from Nande truly was surnamed Niu—called Niu Gao. The two had come on the first day and properly passed her examination questions—probably the two with the highest skills among the eight. Especially Ding Xiu, who according to him was an apprentice master craftsman at the Yuling imperial capital shipyard. While Niu Gao built private ships—simple fishing boats and small craft were no problem for him, and his blade work was quite good. The other six were from the capital, each with particular strengths, just lacking in experience.
Having nowhere to go, Ding Xiu and Niu Gao stayed in Hongyu’s shipwright dormitory. These three days, the two had also helped Mo Zi assess people. Ding Xiu was near master craftsman level, so naturally he could tell at a glance. Niu Gao was self-employed—after three days, he faintly showed the bearing of a foreman.
Mo Zi saw this and was pleased in her heart. These two, if handled well, would become her capable assistants.
Ding Xiu had a five-year-old son named Dingding who’d become good friends with the two or three-year-old Niuniu. Right now, the two were catching butterflies in the flower garden. Children’s laughter was especially clear—giggling and tittering, making people laugh along involuntarily. Though Niu Gao seemed like a big rough fellow, he had a childlike nature. Seeing hiring wrap up, he went to play with the two children.
Mo Zi saw the one big and two small ones looking somewhat wild in their play and shook her head. Turning her face to look at Ding Xiu, she discovered his eyes were red.
“Master Ding, you needn’t be anxious—Niu Gao looks clumsy but his heart is quite careful. He won’t hurt the children.” Thinking he was worried about Niu Gao’s clumsiness, she comforted him.
“Brother Mo misunderstands. I just see Niuniu and think of my lost little daughter. She’s also two this year, but I don’t know where she and her mother have wandered. My wife was originally a daughter from a prosperous household, never having suffered hardship, but unexpectedly—” A senseless war had caused the family to lose everything. Now he didn’t even know if his wife and daughter were still alive.
Mo Zi felt that a man about to shed tears for his loved ones showed deep emotion and nature, with not a trace of weakness. However, with Ding Xiu saying this, bells rang chaotically in her mind, like a car backing up. She suddenly recalled that auntie who’d sold her the comb.
“Master Ding, do your wife and daughter have any distinguishing features?” Ask clearly to avoid false joy.
“My wife has a dignified appearance, my daughter is clever and lovable.” Such were Ding Xiu’s characteristic descriptions.
Mo Zi raised an eyebrow. “Master Ding, so-called distinguishing features are things different from others—like pockmarks, birthmarks, missing arms or legs. In the sixth month I saw a mother and daughter who’d fled from Yuling as refugees selling sundries at the market. I heard that auntie say her daughter was two years old, and her husband seemed to be a craftsman working in the palace. They’d gotten separated on the road.”
Noticing Ding Xiu’s eyes growing brighter and brighter, she spoke more energetically. “That auntie said the relatives she’d sought refuge with had cheated her of her silver, so she’d pawned her jewelry to do a bit of small trading—no matter what, she’d stay in the capital waiting for her husband and son. I bought an old comb from her, a comb that could no longer be used for combing, but the tree peony on it—ow, that hurts!”
Her wrist had been grabbed by Ding Xiu in one grasp, pinched to death, his hand trembling like autumn leaves in the wind. This was naturally because Ding Xiu was too agitated.
“That must be my wife and daughter! The comb fell from one of my books. My wife liked it when she saw it, so she kept it with her. I wonder where Brother Mo saw the two of them?” When people are moved by emotion, it’s most genuine. This handsome man Ding Xiu’s eyeballs nearly bulged out.
“I saw them at Qingmin Ward in the south of the city. However, those goods of hers really didn’t seem to sell. Rather, the spring water from behind the mountain she brought for quenching thirst was very sweet, so I suggested she change to selling water. She said she’d try to catch the market early when the city gates opened. If you get up early and wait starting from the three south gates, you might have some luck. If that doesn’t work, look in suburban villages with mountain springs. Since your whole family is already in the capital, you’ll definitely meet.” What remarkable coincidence! This husband and wife—one had helped her recover her memory, the other would help her build ships. She’d also done a great good deed.
For half a year, this was Ding Xiu’s first news of his wife and daughter—how could he stay put?
Niu Gao was now good brothers with him. Hearing the whole story, he asked Mo Zi for leave and dragged him straight to rush toward the capital’s south city to inquire.
Mo Zi stared wide-eyed at Dingding and Niuniu, finally being pulled by the two to play hide-and-seek.
Niuniu was still small and didn’t know how to hide. But Dingding was clever as a ghost, leading her to hide here and there around the flower garden. It took quite some effort to find them.
Mo Zi was crouched on the ground learning to meow, trying to lure the children out, not noticing two people had arrived at the gate.
“Since Hongyu shipyard passed the Three Trials, why are its gates still so deserted? I see you’re so idle with nothing to do, playing alone here like a cat pouncing on butterflies.” The man’s voice was extremely proud.
Mo Zi jumped up. Turning to look, it was Min Song.
“Young Master Song, what a rare guest! I was just playing with the children.” Calling Dingding and Niuniu out, she had Qiu Da take them to the back, then examined Min Song. Seeing him in cloth shirt, cloth pants, and plain cloth shoes, she said oddly, “Did your family go bankrupt?”
The word “bankrupt” wasn’t very ancient, so Min Song was startled, but like a parasitic worm, he reacted quickly. “You’re the one who went bankrupt.”
“If Risheng hasn’t fallen, why is Young Master Song dressed so—common folk?” Which was shabby.
Min Song didn’t pick up her thread, looking around. Though the building was new, the place was small. Unwilling in his heart, yet thinking of the old master’s orders, he stood coldly in place huffing air.
Mo Zi didn’t understand and tried to comprehend the other’s psychology, asking, “Could it be Young Master Song came to have me treat you? Then why didn’t Chang Ji and Chen Zhi come with you? I said I’d treat them too.” And if she remembered correctly, this young master had already very clearly refused her enthusiastic invitation.
Min Song furrowed his brow for a long while, lowered his voice, and said one sentence.
Mo Zi cleaned out her ear, thinking she’d momentarily gone deaf. Startled in her heart, thinking if she’d gone deaf what should she do, while resolutely going to confirm again, “What did you say?”
Min Song’s eyes looked somewhat fierce as his mouth moved up and down.
But she still didn’t hear.
A crow cawed. The setting sun stretched her shadow very long. So desolate—
Wait, if she’d gone deaf, why could she hear the crow cawing?
Her heart started beating again. She was somewhat angry. “Min Song, you little girl! Speaking as if you haven’t eaten enough.”
Min Song’s brows were crossed in cold opposition. Just about to retort, he heard a very impatient voice.
“This young master says he’s come looking for work.”
Mo Zi got halfway through saying “oh” when she cried out, “What?!”
Min Song had no time now to care whether she was surprised or not, turning to glare at the blabbermouth. “Who are you? What business is it of yours?”
“Young master, the sun’s about to set. You yourself are dragging and dawdling, going in or not going in—don’t delay my work too.” That person stepped out sideways, wearing a faded old white shirt, a gray bundle on his shoulder, shoes already worn thin, faintly showing sock color. His height matched Min Song’s, but he was more robust than Min Song, with sword-like brows and tiger eyes. However, with a long scar on his forehead plus that mocking expression, he actually had a world-weary, cynical appearance.
“You two aren’t together?” Mo Zi had thought that person was a servant Min Song brought, so she hadn’t looked closely before.
“Naturally not.” Min Song looked at that person with slanted eyes, having much objection to being mocked.
“How could a little commoner like me possibly know such a young master?” That person also looked at Min Song with slanted eyes, then asked Mo Zi, “May I ask if this place is hiring shipwrights?”
Min Song’s temper was aroused. “You wait! Everything has a first-come-first-served order. I was before you, so naturally I should ask first.”
That world-weary cynic made a cutting sound. “You just asked, and asked twice. This manager didn’t hear—whose fault is that? Since you’re a young master from a wealthy family, eating, drinking, and playing is fine, but what are you doing running to a proper workplace? You don’t need to earn money to eat, but I’m still waiting to make a living.”
Mo Zi’s eyeballs turned back and forth between the two, finding watching an argument quite interesting. However, she was somewhat carried away, forgetting she was the person in charge here.
“Fine, Brother Mo, you say—which of us two will you use?” Min Song threw over a bomb, drawing Mo Zi into this contest.
If not for that angry youth being present, Mo Zi really wanted to ask Min Song his “honored age” this year. A three-year-old child? Can’t beat others, so tattles.
“Looking at you two’s posture, you don’t seem to be looking for work but rather looking to compete on a platform.” She represented the hiring unit—put a thousand years later, she could look down her nose at people, but being a good person, she didn’t quibble with these two applicants.
The angry youth was immediately startled. Just hearing what Young Master Song and this manager chatting warmly, he’d thought he’d get scolded and driven away—after all, along his journey, he’d seen too many ugly faces.
“You two needn’t争先抢后. My hiring doesn’t mean whoever comes first gets hired first.” Mo Zi pointed at two newly erected large wooden posts nearby. “See that red line? Use a saw to cut a piece of wood along the line, can’t be too thick or too thin—must be just right. When this stick of incense burns out, whoever hasn’t finished please voluntarily leave.”
“That’s all?” Min Song didn’t take it seriously. He’d started playing with saws at five—it was one of the most basic tools.
“After passing this trial, there are two more.” Mo Zi blinked. “Young Master Song, these are much easier than Risheng’s Three Trials. I call them One Saw, One Touch, One Glance.”
Min Song knew she was deliberately teasing him. “The Three Trials weren’t set by Risheng either—they’re the whole shipbuilding industry’s rules. However slick and glib you are, complaining to me is useless.” Moreover, Hongyu was now a hero while he’d lost face for Risheng.
Therefore, he needed to make up for his mistakes with merit.