The tavern fell silent as a tomb. Curious eyes darted about, ears perked up to catch every word.

“What does Boss Zeng want then?” Minsong hadn’t wanted Zeng Hai to notice him.

Zeng Hai was a petty person who loved to stir up trouble. He was always respectful to the old master on the surface, but behind the scenes he did plenty of unethical things. The old master said, “When water is too clear, there are no fish.” Moreover, the Zeng family behind Hongtu Shipyard was also a prestigious household. They had to give the other family some face, so as long as he didn’t violate the boat company’s principles, they didn’t pursue Zeng Hai’s misdeeds too closely.

Zeng Hai never expected Minsong to be sitting at that brat Mo San’s table. He immediately put away his harsh expression and greeted him warmly. “Eldest nephew, why didn’t you speak up earlier? If I’d known you were here, Uncle would definitely have invited you up to drink. It’s not too late now—come up quickly. I’ll have the servers clear the old spread and order a fresh table just for you.” He assumed Mo San was begging Minsong for connections.

“Boss Zeng is too kind. When someone is treating me, how could I leave mid-meal?” Minsong hadn’t forgotten his own question. “Hearing you say you’re displeased, I wonder what you intend to do?”

Zeng Hai cursed inwardly: “Giving you face, boy, and you still won’t take it? Risheng wants to curry favor with Hongyu, but I particularly want to see Hongyu have bad luck. Some country bumpkin appearing out of nowhere without any background or backing, and still wanting to compete with me for business.”

The thing was, Hongtu Shipyard was a hundred miles upstream from Hongyu. Once Hongyu opened, it cut off half the boat traffic from the capital to Hongtu. Once Hongyu established itself, Hongtu’s customers would inevitably decrease. Therefore, Zeng Hai was extremely hostile toward Mo Zi.

“Eldest nephew indeed knows proper etiquette. I won’t force you then. But—” Zeng Hai glanced at the four dishes and four pots of wine on their table and shook his head with a tsk. “I say, Steward Mo, treating guests with just this—isn’t it too shabby? Is Hongyu not doing any business? Even treating people to a meal is so stingy.”

Mo Zi smiled slightly and said nothing. She still held to her principle—unless necessary, no need to bicker with such a petty person.

Seeing this, Zeng Hai realized the brat could actually swallow his pride quite well, showing none of the spirit from when he passed the three trials. He had wanted to provoke Mo Zi into impulsive defiance, so he could blame Hongyu publicly. Now that his opponent wasn’t taking the bait, what should he do? Seeing those four below about to continue eating, he found himself awkwardly suspended, caught in a difficult position.

“Since this young fellow said touching wood was simple, why not go on stage and guess? Let everyone open their eyes.” A rough voice rang through the building.

Zeng Hai looked as if he’d received an imperial decree, his fat face quivering with delight. “That’s right, that’s right! Mo San’er, you don’t need to get fifteen out of fifteen. As long as you can get close to it, we’ll believe you.”

Whether you believe me or not—what does that have to do with me? Mo Zi really wanted to throw those words up at him. However, unlike the others who were just focused on stirring things up, she was searching for the owner of that voice urging her onto the stage.

“I wonder who is so eager to incite people onto the stage? Since you enjoy watching the excitement, why not personally join in yourself rather than casually toying with others?” She looked at the shadows behind Zeng Hai where two or three people sat. Though she couldn’t see their faces clearly, it was very likely they were fanning the flames.

“Fine, you go up, and I’ll join you for the excitement.” Someone stood up behind Zeng Hai and walked to the railing.

A snow-silver cap with a green jade piece set in the center, a scholar’s robe of pale blue with golden lion cubs spitting balls embroidered on the sleeves and hem, a white snake-patterned belt from which hung several exquisite trinkets.

The crowd looked up, not knowing which wealthy family’s young master this was. He had cherry lips and pale skin, eyes rippling with light, eyebrows full of spirited bearing—truly more beautiful than a woman by three parts.

“Why is there another man who looks like a woman?” Ever since learning Mo Zi was female, Minsong immediately wondered if any delicate-looking man was a woman in disguise.

As he said this, both Zan Jin and Chouyu agreed.

The three couldn’t help glancing at Mo Zi, but immediately felt something was wrong.

Mo Zi’s face was tilted upward, her complexion ashen gray, eyes fixed deadly on the figure above without blinking. Her hands had been holding a wine cup but now trembled uncontrollably, spilling more than half the wine.

Following Mo Zi’s gaze to look at the elegant scholar upstairs, his complexion was even more deathly pale than Mo Zi’s, eyes bulging like peach pits, eyebrows flying up in shock. The three men, all having excellent vision, noticed the scholar’s whole body trembling slightly, lips pressed tight, veins bulging at his temples—clearly clenching his jaw. His knees even weakened. If he hadn’t bumped into the railing, he would probably have collapsed to the ground. He even made a very feminine gesture, covering his mouth with one hand.

“This fellow’s eyes are all white—shocked like he’s seen a ghost. Is he about to cry?” Chouyu was greatly surprised, lips curled in disdain. “Disguising as a man isn’t something any random cat or dog can pull off.”

“Hasn’t she just seen a ghost?” Mo Zi pulled her gaze back, smiled at the three, poured three cups of wine, drank three cups of wine, all drained in one gulp.

“Brother Mo.” Zan Jin furrowed his thick brows deeply.

Chouyu wanted to tell Mo Zi that if that fellow had seen a ghost, it was mostly because of her. Pale as death, gaze like she wanted to devour someone. Still smiling? Mouth stretched like that, exposing two cold canine teeth, bearing some resemblance to a mountain tiger.

“I’m fine.” She just needed alcohol to calm the wild storm in her heart.

“You think any of us three would believe those words?” Minsong snatched Mo Zi’s wine cup. “Drink less. If you get drunk, are we supposed to carry you back?”

Her gaze gradually moved upward again, imprinting that person’s features in her eyes. Mo Zi’s expression cooled down. Not just cold, but icy. So the past hadn’t actually passed. It was just one person appearing, and already she couldn’t control her—fury.

Was this karmic retribution? She had decided not to care anymore, yet these people seemed determined to entangle with her. Could it be that just hearing her voice, regardless of anything else, they had to confront her? How interesting. Did they still think she was as naive and foolish as before, letting them manipulate her like a rag doll one by one?

Thinking this, her expression suddenly relaxed. The taut tension in her body vanished into thin air, and she became that grinning, oily ink-stained character from the boats again. At the corners of her eyes and mouth, the frost melted into air with her casual demeanor, not a trace remaining.

Watching this left Minsong and the other two completely baffled, unable to understand why she went from murderous intent to normal in an instant.

“If I go up, you’ll join me for the excitement?” Mo Zi stared directly upstairs. Seeing that person still in shock, she couldn’t help laughing aloud. “That’s perfect then. Going up alone, I’d feel embarrassed. Two people together—even if it’s embarrassing, we’ll have company. This—young master, please.” The young lady who once refused to wear men’s clothing even unto death now played a man quite convincingly.

Mo Zi stood up, took several large steps, and at the stage front nimbly propped herself up and jumped.

Someone below called out approval—Chouyu and Zan Jin showing support, while Young Master Minsong just moved his lips. But it was actually quite effective, as those who couldn’t tell what was happening also shouted approval.

Mo Zi stepped onto the stage. Her old shirt swayed lightly as she turned around, eyes like autumn water, pale fingertip pointing at the second floor. “Come, come, let me see the young master’s skill.”

At the same time, she said to Zeng Hai, “Boss Zeng, you and I are in the same trade, like sharing a boat. I won’t be polite and will ask you for stakes. Fifteen out of fifteen is too difficult. I’ll compete with your friend on who can guess more correctly out of fifteen woods. If I win, you treat this meal. If I lose, I’ll pay for your table’s meal. How about it?”

Dealing with petty people required cleverness. Phrasing it this way made her sound magnanimous to others, and with small stakes, Zeng Hai could save face too.

But Zeng Hai wasn’t appreciative. “Mo San’er, don’t be stingy. If we’re betting, bet big.” He’d seen the person before him touch wood before, and seeing Brother Mo showing no confidence at all, he straightened his back and puffed out his chest, waiting to make Hongyu suffer.

“What does Boss Zeng want to bet?” Bet big? Mo Zi sneered inwardly.

“Since we’re touching wood, let’s use wood as stakes. If you lose, you give Hongtu a thousand pine logs.” Zeng Hai had an order on hand. After eating today, he had planned to buy lumber anyway. It seemed someone was delivering it free. As if he’d already gotten the advantage, he smiled gleefully.

Three lines appeared on Mo Zi’s nose bridge, her expression very troubled. “Boss Zeng, this bet is a bit too big. I’m just a steward—how can I use the boss’s silver as stakes? Better to keep it small. This meal money, I can afford.”

Zeng Hai wasn’t willing to accommodate. “Mo San’er, aren’t you the one who makes decisions at Hongyu? A thousand pine logs is only a few hundred taels of silver. To be honest, for me, it’s not even considered a big bet. Seeing Hongyu newly opened, I’m just being considerate. If you don’t have the guts, just say so directly.”

“Since Boss Zeng thinks so highly of me, not betting won’t do. Fine, today I’ll go all out too. Worst case, I’ll pay out of my own pocket. Let’s not do written contracts—we’ll just ask everyone present to witness, and the result will rely entirely on integrity.” Mo Zi seemed to be looking at Zeng Hai, but actually her gaze had been on that figure who couldn’t even stand straight.

Her words were so frank and open that quite a few customers nodded in approval. In contrast, Zeng Hai’s words and tone were all aggressive, appearing narrow-minded. Although Mo Zi’s initial careless words had been spread by gossips in this crowd, making people dissatisfied with her arrogance, these few statements now had evened out public sentiment.

If Zeng Hai had paid attention to the person in whom he’d placed such confidence, he probably wouldn’t have made this proposal. But being short-sighted, he didn’t realize he’d fallen into Mo Zi’s trap. He agreed to the bet, still quite smug about it.

“Young Master Ye, I’ve personally witnessed your skill. Don’t worry, that brat on stage is just a freeloader who won’t be any match for you. I’ll thank you in advance for letting me get these thousand logs for free.”

The one called Young Master Ye, face deathly pale, said four words in a low voice, then with unsteady steps turned and went downstairs.

Zeng Hai’s mouth curved downward, not knowing why the honored guest called him a wine-sack and rice-bag, but not daring to offend him, just feeling somewhat stifled. He wanted to curse behind his back, but seeing Young Master Ye’s two attendants still there, each holding a sword, watching him coldly from the shadows, he could only shut his mouth tight and curse inwardly.

Several servers brought up another table and pulled black cotton curtains between the two tables, preparing brush, ink, paper, and inkstone.

Mo Zi and Young Master Ye stood behind the servers, perfectly blocking the crowd’s view.

Then came Young Master Ye’s trembling whisper: “Miss Zi—”

“You’d better shut up.” Mo Zi smiled, cold air hissing through her teeth. “Young Master Ye’er—your voice is giving me goosebumps.”