Days passed quickly. In the blink of an eye, it was already the sixth day.

On this day, Qiu Sanniang gave Bai He and Lu Ju time off, letting them also dress as servants to go out. Xiao Yi appeared and disappeared like a ghost, hiding somewhere in the nunnery. Mo Zi became the only maid serving by her side.

In the afternoon, Qiu Sanniang complained the bed in the guest room was too hard and refused to take her afternoon nap. She had Mo Zi bring the zither and found a secluded pavilion in a forest halfway up the mountain.

Mo Zi took out the zither and carefully placed it on the stone table. She removed the cloth bundle she carried. From the left pocket she first produced a small copper tripod and lit incense. From the right pocket she took out a wooden bottle she’d made herself, unscrewed the lid, and poured hot tea. From the large middle pocket she pulled out a brocade blanket and carefully spread it on the wooden chair in the pavilion. Finally, she extracted a peach-red cloak, rolled it up, and placed it at one end of the chair.

“Young lady, everything is arranged. Any other instructions?” Mo Zi asked.

“This bag of yours is quite useful. Not only does it hold things, it can be carried on both shoulders.” In the past, so many items would have required at least three maids to carry them.

Mo Zi patted her “design,” a backpack sewn by Lu Ju. “Shoulders can bear much more weight than one shoulder or two hands.”

Qiu Sanniang nodded with only partial understanding, not much concerned with the principle. She needed solitude. “I know you don’t enjoy listening to the zither. To keep you from getting drowsy, go walk around. Just don’t go too far.”

“Young lady, I’ll guard the forest entrance. That way, you can see me, and no one will come in to disturb you.” Mo Zi couldn’t bear classical slow rhythms. The kind with rapid, clanging sounds like ten thousand horses galloping could at least provide some excitement.

“Go then.” Qiu Sanniang embraced the zither and lowered her head to tune it.

Sitting against a rock by the mountain path, Mo Zi still heard the zither music. Mountain wind scattered it, then gathered it at her ears. The difficult “Spring Snow” became a clear, lively brook—not bad to listen to.

If asked what she liked most about coming to this era, sleeves were probably one thing. Some narrow, some wide, but very good for storing things. Cleverly designed—even swinging them around, things wouldn’t fall out. Handkerchiefs, small pieces of silver, letters and such—as long as you didn’t mind how it looked, for ordinary people it was quite practical. Sometimes she also considered whether they could be used as weapons, loading a rock to throw at people.

However, today, her sleeve only held a copy of “Yuling Night Boat Records.” She’d recently smuggled it out when retrieving books for Qiu Sanniang from Old Master Qiu’s study. It was half the size and half the thickness of ordinary books, but the paper was very light, easy to carry. This didn’t count as stealing—Qiu Sanniang had long tacitly approved her reading behavior. Though literate maids in the Qiu Mansion could be counted on five fingers, and even Sixth and Seventh Young Ladies didn’t know many characters, Qiu Sanniang was well-read. Having Mo Zi who loved reading was like having another book friend, so she was quite lenient.

“Yuling Night Boat Records” was a hand-illustrated volume. Mo Zi wasn’t clear on exactly what year or month it was published, only roughly estimating it was from thirty years ago or earlier. This book mainly recounted strange and interesting tales from various places in Yuling as told by night boat travelers, but its exquisite feature was detailed illustrated diagrams of several types of small night-sailing vessels, which greatly interested Mo Zi with her boat worker background.

Book in hand, yet her mind was somewhat unsettled by the drifting zither music.

That night, Mo Zi had taught Bai He to find opportunities to mention Qiu Sanniang’s true character to Madam Wei. On the fourth day, when Bai He and Lu Ju went with Sanniang to see Madam Wei, they really did as instructed. After Qiu Sanniang returned, she complained that these maids acted on their own initiative, revealing her shortcomings to outsiders without consulting her.

Bai He thought Qiu Sanniang was truly angry and rushed ahead of Mo Zi to say it was all her own idea.

Mo Zi didn’t know if Qiu Sanniang didn’t pursue the matter because Bai He had followed her since childhood, but at least she didn’t punish Bai He by making her produce several hundred taels of silver like she did with Mo Zi.

Later, however, Mo Zi heard from Lu Ju that on that day, Qiu Sanniang and Madam Wei had chatted very happily, conversing about everything under heaven. They even found several places both had visited, from which topics flowed endlessly. Madam Wei even proactively invited Qiu Sanniang to dine together in the evening, but Qiu Sanniang politely declined, citing her fasting period requiring evening scripture recitation.

When Lu Ju told Mo Zi about it, her expression was full of regret, saying repeatedly they shouldn’t have declined or refused.

In Mo Zi’s view, Qiu Sanniang had actually entered the right frame of mind.

Playing hard to get.

Wasn’t it perfect? When to be frank, when to observe propriety, when to advance, when to retreat—if properly managed, opportunities would constantly appear. Regardless, Qiu Sanniang’s filial devotion to her father was sincere. She performed her fasting duties one hundred percent. Prostrating a thousand times, chanting a thousand times, writing a thousand times—repeating tirelessly without complaint, all done personally. And filial piety ranked first among the hundred virtues—this was probably what Madam Wei weighed most heavily when selecting candidates.

From the second day onward, Qiu Sanniang only shared breakfast with Madam Wei. Even at this moment, clearly having leisure time, she didn’t pester, understanding when enough was enough.

But whether things would proceed as smoothly as they hoped, Mo Zi didn’t know. A cluster of bright yellow wildflowers bloomed at her feet. When she was in a daze, each blossom stood out vividly like a string of suns, rolling back and forth before her eyes.

“The white camellia halfway up this mountain blooms remarkably beautifully.” A steady voice suddenly came from the mountain path.

Mo Zi recognized this voice she’d heard before and immediately came to her senses.

“Indeed. I haven’t seen such delightful ones in the capital. I originally wanted to ask the abbess if I could transplant a few, but feared the long journey would just torment these poor flowers, so I dismissed the thought. It’s just that your mother loves white camellias most. I feel sorry for her.” Another voice carried laughter and an elder’s fondness for a close junior.

The kind, loving face of Madam Wei floated in Mo Zi’s mind. She thought, living close was good—you couldn’t help but run into each other.

Thinking this, she acted quickly. Putting the book back in her sleeve, she had already turned out from behind the rock.

“Greetings, Madam.” She lowered her head slightly, leaning her upper body forward, hands positioned at her waist, knees bending.

“You are—?” Madam Wei was somewhat puzzled because she couldn’t see the other person’s face clearly.

Mo Zi raised her head slightly, maintaining her curtsy. “Madam, I am a maid of the Qiu Mansion’s Third Young Lady, Mo Zi.”

“So it’s you.” Even if Madam Wei hadn’t paid attention to Mo Zi’s appearance, she had a deep impression of the name Mo Zi. “These past few days dining with your young lady, I didn’t see you and wondered about it.”

“Thank you for Madam’s concern. Mo Zi is only a second-rank maid and doesn’t often serve before the young lady.” You’re polite, I’m polite, let’s all be polite together. Mo Zi raised her head a bit more and saw the man beside Madam Wei. She quickly hid her face again at five degrees, greatly alarmed in her heart.

The voice was familiar because she’d heard it not many days ago. That man was actually the other family’s Second Young Master she’d encountered at Wangqiu Tower. That day’s meeting hadn’t been pleasant. Meeting again here could be called enemies on a narrow road.

“Your young lady is quite capable. Her maids are each more clever than the last.” This was genuine praise.

“Meeting the young lady is also our good fortune.” Cautiously representing Bai He, Xiao Yi, and Lu Ju as a whole—for herself it was fifty-fifty.

“Look at this sweet-talking clever mouth.” Mo Zi’s humble posture clearly suited Madam Wei’s wishes, making her beam with smiles. She turned to the young man beside her and said, “Second Young Master, that short lyric you admired, and the story that dispelled your Third Uncle Wei’s idea of taking a concubine—this maid told them.”

Here we go again.

Proof of a serious lack of entertainment in their lives!