Mo Zi thought it over and finally asked, “Did you really help him?”
Yuan Cheng shook his head. “I actually accepted a bribe from him. I found his bull-like appearance memorable, so I still remember his face.”
What?! Mo Zi’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re saying he gave you money, you took his bribe, and he still treats you as his benefactor?” With such a relationship, Niu Gao wanted to kowtow to him a hundred times? Better to insist it was Yuan Cheng’s shadow guards playing tricks. Perhaps there was some martial technique that could make people kowtow automatically?
“So I was quite uncomfortable too. Didn’t it look like sitting on pins and needles?” They had already walked back to where Mo Zi had been examining the wooden plank.
“Not really.” She looked at him—he seemed quite at ease, almost ready to help count the kowtows.
Yuan Cheng was amused by her blunt honesty and even agreed with her. “It’s rare to be a benefactor. Not enjoying it would be unfair to the other party’s sincerity.”
Mo Zi seemed unable to stand it and rolled her eyes. “A corrupt official cares about such formalities?”
“Let’s talk business.” If they continued like this, the two could chatter endlessly all day. Yuan Cheng picked up a broken plank. “This ship—why did it sink?” So he did have business after all.
Mo Zi wrinkled her nose. “Telling you is no problem, but why are you the one asking? I thought Young General Xiao would be more concerned.”
“For this diplomatic reception, everything large or small is coordinated and verified by the Central Secretariat. Several days ago, Xiao Wei reported to the Ministry of War, and the Ministry of War then informed Lord Chancellor. I was assigned this matter by his order.” Or rather, he’d volunteered. The Chancellor now trusted him greatly, so obtaining this assignment wasn’t difficult.
“I see.” Mo Zi assumed a serious expression. “Then allow me to report to Your Lordship. After four days of salvage, apart from the sections shattered by impact with the riverbed that couldn’t be recovered, the ship’s bottom was relatively well preserved. After reassembly, we discovered that at the dragon head’s left side, half a foot away, the third strake had a crack—three feet long, wide enough to insert ten fingers. I estimate this was the initial leak point. The broken wood shows a clean interior cut and rough exterior, suggesting someone chiseled it open with a sharp tool.”
Yuan Cheng confirmed with Mo Zi: “Chiseled from inside out?”
Mo Zi was certain. “I know what you’re thinking. I’m ninety percent sure this shipwreck was caused by Xiao Wei’s own soldiers. The purpose, I don’t know—perhaps foreign spies, perhaps factional conflict. However, beyond this, I have another discovery.”
Yuan Cheng waited for her to continue.
“The ship’s bottom is three fen thinner than civilian vessels. The tung oil coating comes off easily. The lime caulking is mixed with impurities. Also, iron nails and wooden pegs are mixed together.” Having said this, Mo Zi paused slightly, as if hesitating whether to continue. “I’m not familiar with the materials and craftsmanship of the Great Zhou’s official shipyards, so I’m only offering my thoughts, not a final conclusion. I believe that although someone chiseled the bottom first, the reason the hull accelerated in sinking and breaking apart was because this ship simply couldn’t withstand impact.”
“Adding frost to snow?” Yuan Cheng murmured, eyes downcast.
“The Hongyu River has hidden rocks on both banks, but the riverbed is flat. After examining the ship’s bottom, I found that besides the artificial breach, the side planks all show stress cracks from being forcibly pushed apart—caused by water pressure. If this were just an ordinary small boat, that would be one thing, but this is an inland warship. From this perspective, even without deliberate sabotage, it wouldn’t be long before the bottom started taking on water.” Even without knowing the Great Zhou’s shipbuilding procedures, she could sense something was amiss.
“Do you know this ship has been in the water for less than half a year?” A new ship.
“I could tell.” She’d known when she first boarded. The lacquer was still new, the wood scent pure.
“What’s the general lifespan of a ship?” Yuan Cheng had never really paid attention to this.
“That’s not certain. It depends on the quality of the timber and various auxiliary materials, as well as the construction process, ship type, and natural wear and tear. The larger the ship, the more rigorous the workmanship and materials, the longer the ship’s life. On average, at minimum twenty to thirty years. Short ones seven to eight years, long ones even a hundred years.” In the Great Qiu, Mo Zi had seen a century-old ship, well-preserved and still seaworthy.
“By your estimate, if nothing had happened to this ship, how much longer could it have been used?” Yuan Cheng wanted to hear Mo Zi’s judgment.
“Several months or half a year.” Mo Zi brought over a large piece of the ship’s bottom. “Look at this.” She pressed it with her knee a few times, and the seams split open.
Yuan Cheng furrowed his brow.
“Just like the Great Zhou naval camp’s new recruits—a heap of loose sand, not worth a single blow.” Mo Zi tossed aside the wooden plank in her hand and dusted off the wood shavings. “A ship like this—if Young General Xiao wants me to repair it, I’ll have to ask him for considerably more silver.” If it were up to her, she would never be so careless.
“Xiao Wei wants you to repair the ship?” Yuan Cheng asked.
“Yes. Originally I thought people working for the emperor would all be generous. Didn’t you help arrange that palace job? It would be pure profit. But when it came to Young General Xiao, the moment I mentioned silver, his face showed wariness as if I were trying to cheat him. Salvaging a ship is such troublesome work—I said two thousand taels, and he said I really knew how to make money. Even after I gave him a discount, he showed no appreciation. Heaven and earth witness—I just received eight hundred taels deposit and immediately gave it to Leng Liu of the Leopard Gang. Afterward, because the gang brothers went in the water more times than I calculated, I gave each person an additional ten-tael bonus—five hundred taels gone just like that. Factor in the cost of my men pulling the ship ashore and the craftsmen’s labor, and after all that effort, the books show only two hundred taels more.” She clicked her tongue. “What precious hard-earned money. I think he should switch careers to accounting—he’d probably have more future as that than as a general. This time for the repairs, if I don’t earn double from him, I won’t do it.”
“Brother Mo, this job—turn it down.” Yuan Cheng said instead, his solemn face showing this wasn’t a joke.
Mo Zi hesitated, then nodded. “Fine. His silver is hard to earn anyway—not doing business with him is also good.”
“Even earning double wouldn’t be acceptable.” Yuan Cheng told Mo Zi to refuse, not because he disliked Xiao Er. “The ship came from the capital’s shipyard, so naturally they should take it back for inspection. Originally, the inspection shouldn’t have been done by Hongyu either, because official shipyards are most wary of outsiders meddling in ship affairs. Them voluntarily giving you a share is one thing; you privately inspecting their ship without their permission is another matter entirely. Official and civilian shipyards are now beginning to cooperate, but in the early stages you still need to defer to the official shipyard, so don’t stand out too much. Otherwise you might offend people without realizing it and create enemies for Hongyu. If Xiao Wei comes to ask you, don’t say much—just push it onto me. Tell him Hongyu can help with salvage, but repair matters will be arranged by the Central Secretariat.”
Mo Zi wasn’t one whose eyes lit up at the sight of money, but she did take issue with anyone blocking her financial path.
What Yuan Cheng said made complete sense. On the surface it seemed like just a monetary transaction, but because it involved the official shipyard, the matter became murky and complex. If Hongyu got involved, they’d be the ones taken for fools.
“Remember, what you just told me—don’t mention it to a second person.” As Yuan Cheng was leaving, he reminded Mo Zi again.
Mo Zi knew he was well-versed in the underhanded ways of officialdom—how could she not listen to him? She nodded repeatedly. Not just Ming Nian learned from him—hadn’t she herself been learning how to conduct herself from him?
“I’ve invited Xu Jiu to drink at my residence three days from now. You come too and hear the news.” Yuan Cheng said this as if suddenly remembering, just before entering his carriage. “Enter through the north gate.”
Xu Jiu was back?
Mo Zi nodded in agreement and watched the carriage leave. Turning around, she saw Niu Gao running over frantically, his ox-like eyes searching left and right.
“Brother Mo, where’s Chancellor Yuan?” As soon as Niu Gao spoke, he used Yuan Cheng’s old official title.
Mo Zi patted Niu Gao’s broad shoulder. “Master Niu, what happened yesterday is dead as of yesterday. I understand you have your own difficulties, but he’s already had his family property confiscated by the Nande emperor and been exiled to the Southern Wastes. He nearly died from severe torture, barely managed to save his life, and now lives in constant fear not knowing when someone might assassinate him. Now, if not reformed, he’s at least starting over, and he’s my sworn brother. For my sake, can you let it go? Besides, with bribery, one party gives, one party receives, but neither can guarantee the matter will be accomplished. How much did you bribe him at the time? If it’s only a hundred taels or so, I’ll help him pay you back.” Not that she was looking down on Niu Gao—she just felt a struggling fellow probably hadn’t given much in bribes.
“One tael.” After Niu Gao said this, he jumped on both feet. “Hey, Brother Mo, what are you talking about? I just wanted to finish the kowtows and put this matter to rest. However much silver you compensate me can’t compare to what Chancellor Yuan did for me, Old Niu.” As he spoke, he tried to run outside.
Mo Zi grabbed him. “Wait, Master Niu. You gave him one tael of silver and he still helped you with your business?” Really? Could it be true?
“I told you it’s not about the silver!” Niu Gao was anxious as fire.
“Master Niu, tell me the whole story, and I’ll tell you where his home is. As the saying goes, the monk may run away, but the temple cannot.” Mo Zi grinned.
Niu Gao, a straightforward man, said, “Brother Mo, can you not smile so creepily? It’s like I, Old Niu, want to harm Chancellor Yuan.”
“If you keep calling him Chancellor Yuan, making it known to everyone, then harming him will just be a matter of time.” Mo Zi’s smile didn’t match her serious words.
Niu Gao understood and quickly covered his mouth, saying in a muffled voice, “Then Lord Yuan?”
Mo Zi shrugged noncommittally. “Tell me about this one-tael bribe.”
Because the topic touched him emotionally, Niu Gao became agitated and somewhat incoherent. The gist was as follows: He was originally a craftsman whose family had lived by the river for generations and owned a workshop. Life was neither wealthy nor poor, and he lived happily with his wife and daughter. One day, a small boat began taking on water and sinking by the river. Since it was right at his doorstep, he enthusiastically went to help, and his wife even prepared dry clothes for the people. Who knew that the young master they rescued, seeing his wife’s beauty, would make improper advances toward her. If he hadn’t happened upon the scene, the man would have gotten physical. In great anger, he drove the man out. Half a month later, that person brought over ten servants and forcibly abducted his wife and daughter, beating him severely. After inquiring, he learned this person was the prefect’s son, who bullied the people and forced himself on women, committing all manner of evil. He had nowhere to appeal. With no other options, he heard from an old friend returning from the capital that among Nande’s officials, only Chancellor Yuan would still accept money to help people resolve disasters. At the time, he only knew Yuan Cheng’s evil reputation, but being already desperate, he wanted to make one last attempt. He sold his family property and rushed to the capital. A serious illness nearly exhausted everything. With great difficulty, he managed to intercept Chancellor Yuan’s official sedan on the road, left with less than one tael of broken silver. Chancellor Yuan looked at his petition, accepted his silver, personally wrote a letter, and sent his own attendant to accompany him to the residence of the Minister of Personnel. At that time, Chancellor Yuan’s power was overwhelming, and the Minister didn’t dare delay—he sent someone with him back to his hometown to have the prefect handle the matter.
This was Yuan Cheng’s debt of one tael to Niu Gao.
However, the story didn’t end there.