After the four entered, no shop assistant came out to greet them.

Min Song naturally had something to say again: “Customers arrive, yet not even a ghost of an attendant is seen—this shop clearly has no business. Brother Mo, the longer timber sits, the worse the wood quality becomes. You can’t still think you can buy good wood from this shop, can you?”

This fellow—had he adapted to the truth that she was a woman or not? Why was he more nagging than before? Mo Zi ignored him as usual.

“Brother Mo—ah!” Before Min Song finished speaking, Zan Jin slapped his head.

Mo Zi’s eyes lit up and she gave Zan Jin a thumbs up, praising him for hitting well. This was called increasing harmony.

“Are you done yet? Do you have a grudge against this shop? Or did that Jichang greet your family, telling the Min clan not to patronize here?” Mo Zi finally couldn’t bear it and spoke out, wanting him to change his young master’s temper. “Since we’re here, let’s stay calm. I see the sample wood they’ve displayed is better than the previous two shops. You should talk less and use your eyes more to look. Putting yourself so high up, how can you know the actual facts? For instance, the front area is small—the counter can probably only accommodate one or two assistants, while behind the curtain there are shadowy figures, most likely serving customers. No need to rush—we’ll just wait.”

Chou Yu laughed heartily, “Brother A Song, although Brother Mo is becoming more and more like Miss Mo now, you mustn’t underestimate her because of this. After all, Brother Mo and Mo Zi are the same person, aren’t they?”

Min Song’s face slowly flushed red. That’s right—he had thought things through and came back, and didn’t mind learning skills from a woman, but now he subconsciously tried to suppress her capability. Chou Yu’s words reminded him that regardless of whether Brother Mo was male or female, she was currently stronger than him—that was an indisputable fact.

“If you don’t want to be my junior, use some care.” Mo Zi reached out and took a piece of maple wood, her eyebrows rising. Not bad, truly not bad.

Min Song was two years older than Mo Zi—he had just turned twenty-two in the sixth month—yet being called “junior” by her was something he had to accept. After all, he was just an ordinary boat worker at Hongyu.

At this time, the shadow behind the bamboo curtain drew near, and there were voices.

“Master Qian, that poplar wood is truly good—the price can also be negotiated further.” A delicate voice, a woman’s soft and gentle tone.

“What use is it if you say it’s good? I see it as inferior.” A white, fat hand lifted the bamboo curtain as a short, plump man emerged, wearing yellow brocade silk robes and a country squire’s hat, his laughter sounding sleazy. “Your husband really is willing to let such a delicate beauty come out to work as a shop assistant. How about this—you let me touch your little hand, and I’ll buy twenty or thirty logs. Kiss me on the lips, and I’ll add another fifty. How about it?”

“Eh? This… this naturally… cannot… cannot be done.” Behind the curtain, a woman with a married woman’s hairstyle timidly stepped back half a step.

That Master Qian, seeing her flustered and pitifully helpless appearance, became even more lustful and actually reached out to grab the woman’s wrist, his body leaning forward to forcibly pull her into his embrace.

The bamboo curtain fell to the ground.

The woman was so frightened she struggled with all her strength, then slapped him, yet still in a soft voice: “Get… get out, or I’ll shout!”

From the sound of the slap, it seemed quite forceful.

Mo Zi thought to herself: well struck.

Master Qian immediately raised his palm high, about to slap back.

“Customer, are you here to look at lumber?” The woman had already seen Mo Zi and the others, her eyes lighting up.

Master Qian turned his head and, seeing so many people present, could only give up resentfully. He turned to walk out, but cursed loudly enough for all to hear.

“Goods from a brothel—think reforming makes you a virtuous woman? Stuck with a half-dead consumption patient husband, you want to support this little business, but in the end won’t you still have to sleep with men? I’m waiting—waiting for you to come beg me to sleep with you. Stinking whore, lowly little harlot…” The curses were unbearable to hear.

Mo Zi lowered her head and said in a very small voice, “My ears are truly polluted.”

As soon as she finished speaking, Zan Jin pulled something from his sleeve and pinched it between his fingertips, about to flick it.

“Don’t dirty someone’s place.” Another low murmur.

Zan Jin immediately followed the fat man out.

“This lad not only has sharp ears but an increasingly sharp mind.” Chou Yu chuckled. “Brother Mo, I’ll go out and look—make sure he doesn’t use too heavy a hand.”

Mo Zi smiled and nodded. This wasn’t called meddling—it was maintaining quality fresh air. The wood fragrance couldn’t be allowed to be defiled by vulgar people.

Now only three people remained in the shop.

Mo Zi looked up and saw the young woman’s face deathly pale, wanting to cry but tearless, standing frozen in extreme wretchedness. So it was—in this world, for women to come out and do things was truly difficult.

“Madam, won’t you attend to us?” She kept her sigh in her heart and restored her normal speaking volume.

“…You’re not leaving?” Generally, customers who heard she was a reformed prostitute wouldn’t be willing to stay.

“Why would we leave? I haven’t looked at your lumber yet. Madam is in a bad mood—do you want to close the shop early?” Mo Zi hung the maple board back. “Otherwise, shall I come again tomorrow? Only tomorrow is Mid-Autumn Festival—every family will be celebrating—”

The young woman hurriedly tried to keep the customers and nearly tripped over the bamboo curtain on the ground, stumbling and staggering toward Min Song’s direction.

Min Song frowned tightly, unwilling and reluctant, but still supported her with both hands. Once she stood steady, he immediately released his hands and put them behind his back.

The young woman thanked him, but he maintained a cool face without saying a word, making her complexion pale even further.

Mo Zi saw this but said nothing. She thought sympathy was probably the thing this woman needed least.

“May I ask what kind of wood the customer wants to buy, and for what purpose?” the young woman asked softly and gently.

Looking at her this closely, she wasn’t a dazzlingly beautiful woman. Her brows were lightly drawn, she had slender phoenix eyes, and when her mouth was pursed there were dimples—her expression always carried a light sorrow that wouldn’t fade. She was a temperamental beauty who evoked pity.

“I’ll look at everything—good wood at a good price, I’ll buy. Of course, if nothing catches my eye, I might not buy anything at all. Does Madam have anything you’d particularly like to recommend yourself?” Mo Zi spoke vaguely.

In buying wood, one couldn’t first specify one type and let the other party know you urgently needed it—that would lose the initiative in price negotiation. Although the other party was a weak woman, Mo Zi didn’t plan to pay an extra portion of charity silver. Business was business—each had their own position to maintain.

“This, well—” The young woman appeared uneasy and nervous, her hands tightly clasped together. “This woman doesn’t understand wood. Only because my shop manager took my husband to see a doctor, this woman is helping watch the shop. Just, just, my husband told me these woods are all excellent—the vicious rumors spread outside aren’t true at all. Customer, I see you’re knowledgeable and will certainly be able to tell.”

Such an honest-speaking woman—wasn’t her husband afraid customers would flee? Mo Zi wanted to laugh but couldn’t. At least she could confirm this was a shop doing honest business. So she put away her previous false courtesy and directly entered the main topic.

“Madam, is this wood from deep mountains?” There was no cedar on the sample rack, but she had touched and looked—indeed all was good wood.

“The customer truly has a good eye.” Because of Mo Zi’s pleasant expression, the young woman gradually calmed down. “Everything in our lumber yard was personally purchased by my husband from deep mountain forests.”

“Do you have cedar?” Mo Zi asked.

“Yes, in the storage warehouse in back. Please follow me, customer.” The young woman went to lift the bamboo curtain, grasped at air, then recalled the earlier incident. Her expression turned bitter, but her steps didn’t stop.

Mo Zi and Min Song followed her to the back and saw piles of logs neatly arranged with paper labels attached showing names.

“My husband wrote them, fearing I’d mix them up.” The young woman searched for the cedar paper label while explaining somewhat embarrassedly. “Please forgive me, customer—this woman is clumsy.”

“No matter—I’ve already found it.” Once Mo Zi discovered her target, her eyes gleamed. Without waiting for the young woman to lead, she walked over, crouched down to look carefully and touch carefully, involuntarily nodding and muttering to herself.

Min Song had never seen her like this—completely immersed, utterly focused, the outside world entirely irrelevant.

After quite a while, Mo Zi suddenly turned and beckoned to him. “A Song, come look—how is this cedar?”

Her smile was so joyful, as if she’d obtained a precious treasure, her autumn water eyes clear and bright.

Min Song looked and was stunned. He didn’t need to go over to know it was ordinary cedar—what was she so excited about? Though unwilling to obey, his feet walked forward on their own, and he crouched down like her. Cedar was one of the most common woods used in shipbuilding. Mountain forests grew plenty—generally usable after ten years, and the price was cheap too. This cedar was indeed much better than the previous two shops—the growth rings were fine and uniform, the grain beneath the bark was smooth, feeling very comfortable to touch.

“How is it?” Comparing three shops, finally finding something satisfactory.

“Not bad.” Min Song straightened up. When he said “not bad,” it meant very good. “However, depends on the price. If it’s expensive, go buy from Jichang. I know their prices are the cheapest.”

When the young woman heard the word “Jichang,” she bit her lip. The joy she had originally felt at possibly making a sale receded like the tide.

“Yes, we need to look at the price.” Mo Zi stood up, carefully examined some other woods, then walked outside.

Outside, Zan Jin and Chou Yu had already returned—neither mentioned that Master Qian.

“Brother Mo, I noticed someone outside sneakily watching this place, but it doesn’t seem directed at us, so I didn’t raise alarm.” Zan Jin came forward and whispered in Mo Zi’s ear. Since returning from Leopard Gang, he had disappeared for several days, and when he returned it was like he’d become a different person—already showing the bearing of a personal bodyguard.

Mo Zi turned toward the young woman, still smiling broadly. “Madam, let’s shake hands.”

Shaking hands meant grasping hands inside sleeves, making offers to each other until both sides were satisfied or no deal was made. The origin of this method was unclear—used in medicine and lumber trades, but not commonly in boat trades. Because boat trades were monopolized—no need for haggling.

The young woman had been hanging her head, but suddenly widened her eyes to look at Mo Zi. “You… you’re not going to Jichang?”

“I will go, but I think your cedar is quite good. One thousand logs—if the price is reasonable, I’m willing to buy.” Currently, Hongyu’s lumber used Jichang’s. The timber merchant Old Guan encountered got materials from Jichang, then distributed some to her at cost. So she had a sense of it. In terms of quality, Ruimuxiang’s was slightly superior.

“What hand shaking? She’s a woman.” Min Song had wanted to remain silent, but some words really couldn’t go unsaid, because the other party had no such awareness at all.

The young woman suddenly awakened, but with such a rare opportunity to make a sale, she didn’t want to let it slip away, so she stammered: “Could… could you wait for my husband to return? He should be on the road now.”

“Madam, have you learned the hand gestures from your husband?” Knowing it would come in handy, Mo Zi had earnestly studied with that timber merchant.

“This woman has learned, but never truly used them, and moreover… moreover…” The other party was a man—how could she shake hands?

“Then that’s fine.” Mo Zi extended her hand with a smile. “You’re a woman, I’m also a woman. Such a rare opportunity—do you want to use what your husband taught you once? If you pass this village, there won’t be this shop.”

The young woman was startled, covered her mouth with a handkerchief, yet her eyes were bright and gleaming, unable to hide her joy.