Wu Yan looked at Mo Zi’s smiling face, his eyes filled with dark shadows. How could she be so heartless, standing beside another man and discussing crabs with the Great Zhou Emperor? Once his anger flared, his chest roiled with pain. That instance of coughing up blood had left lingering damage—he often felt weak, chest tightness, and coughing at midnight. The imperial physicians were helpless, prescribing only nourishing remedies each time. It was a disease of the heart, he knew it clearly, but there was no cure.
After greeting the Emperor, the couple Mo Zi and Yuan Cheng inevitably had to face Wu Yan.
Yuan Cheng was courteous and polite. “The King of Daqiu thinks of the common people—Yuan admires this greatly. I hope we can reach an agreement and spare the realm from descending into warfare again.”
Wu Yan’s gaze shifted from Mo Zi back to Yuan Cheng, his tone distant. “Your Song forces showed no mercy to my Daqiu cavalry, leaving none alive. You even completely wiped out the Jiang family, who were quite beloved by the people of former Nande. The Song army is so formidable—how can one not feel dread? This prince is merely pleading for the people’s sake. There’s no need for someone with blood on their hands to express admiration.”
Before the peace talks even began, the air was already thick with hostility—where was the sincerity? Mo Zi watched Wu Yan coldly, her lips pressed into a straight line.
Yuan Cheng maintained excellent composure. “Killing in war is also an unavoidable matter. To speak of recent events rather than distant ones—King of Daqiu, wherever you go, life is devastated. Countless Han people have died under your cavalry’s iron hooves—the number is incalculable. Even how many people you’ve eaten is probably difficult to tally. Though the Song army is fierce, at least we haven’t taken Daqiu cavalry and boiled, stir-fried, or deep-fried them to serve as drinking snacks, so—” His tone shifted abruptly from sharp to gentle, “perhaps we shouldn’t dwell too much on the past. What matters is the future.”
Wu Yan’s eyes lowered, and when he looked up again, his expression had cleared. “We Daqiu are naturally straightforward and treat our clansmen as our own flesh and blood. In my urgency, I spoke rashly—Minister Yuan, please don’t take offense.”
“No harm done. This one completely understands the King of Daqiu’s feelings. Who doesn’t wish for peaceful days? When fighting breaks out, it’s always the common people who suffer most.” Yuan Cheng responded.
The Emperor displayed his authority as host. “You two are both fathers now. If you just think from the perspective of ordinary people—how tragic it is when wives are separated from husbands and children from parents—you should value peace above all.”
Yuan Cheng and Wu Yan nodded in succession.
Mo Zi said nothing. She truly had nothing to say to this person who had already tried to kill her. She feared that if she opened her mouth, she’d first settle the score about A Yue.
Liu Ning stepped forward. “Your Majesty, the Empress’s side has sent word that once the Minister’s wife and Noble Consort Ying arrive, everyone will be present. Should we prepare to begin the banquet?”
“I was so engrossed in conversation with you all that I forgot everyone was waiting for the feast to start. For today’s state banquet, the Empress has put in considerable effort. You must all enjoy yourselves to the fullest.” The Emperor beckoned. “Xiao Baiyu, please escort Noble Consort Ying and the Minister’s wife there.”
Xiao Wei had been observing the situation the entire time. Hearing the Emperor assign him this task, he immediately strode forward. “Your Grace, Madam, please follow me.”
“Much obliged.” Noble Consort Ying finally broke her silence, speaking two words.
Mo Zi’s gaze slid past the stern-faced Xiao Wei and landed on Geng Wo behind him, genuinely pleased. “General Geng, we meet again.”
Zhong An muttered, “Why don’t you greet me?”
“Master Zhong An, we’re so familiar—must we stand on ceremony?” Zhong An wasn’t a spy for Prince Su but rather the Emperor’s confidant and relative—Mo Zi had only learned this later.
“I think you few should just have a separate table.” The Emperor saw how lively their conversation was.
“Really?” Mo Zi turned around to ask.
Yuan Cheng coughed lightly. “Wife, don’t forget this isn’t a family banquet but a state banquet. If you all sit at a separate table, others won’t understand—they’ll think you’ve returned to being a Great Zhou female official.”
“I would like that, but I fear Minister Yuan wouldn’t agree. Your esteemed wife’s shipbuilding skills are unrivaled in the world. If she could manage Great Zhou’s shipyards, she would surely bring prosperity to maritime affairs.” At this point, the Emperor speaking openly about Mo Zi’s abilities didn’t matter—everyone already knew of her skills.
But as soon as the Great Zhou Emperor finished speaking, Wu Yan took up the topic. “I’m afraid the Minister’s wife wouldn’t easily pass on her exceptional abilities to other nations—only the people of Song territory are so fortunate. Moreover, the Song army’s river and sea battle vessels are invincible. If this continues, we of Daqiu and Great Zhou will need to pay tribute to Minister Yuan.” His lips curled in repeated cold sneers.
The Emperor’s expression changed.
“Why must the King of Daqiu be so self-deprecating? If that were truly the case, Yuan would not have come to the capital at all—I would have simply prepared to fight to the end. Though my wife’s shipbuilding skills are high, she is not the world’s foremost, nor can such techniques be hoarded and hidden away. A single ship represents the collective wisdom of dozens or even hundreds of shipwrights, and ultimately it must be launched, must be sailed by people. As long as one investigates carefully, any secret can be uncovered. Great Zhou is where skilled craftsmen from across the realm gather, and Daqiu’s ship industry has advanced by leaps and bounds in recent years—it’s absolutely possible to replicate or even surpass Song territory’s work. Haven’t Daqiu’s new ships recently improved over previous ones?” Not only had Daqiu sent people to steal techniques—Great Zhou had as well.
Such things couldn’t be prevented. With so many shipyards and so many shipwrights, it was impossible for every single one to be utterly loyal or to verify everyone’s background. People naturally seek higher ground while water flows to lower places—there would always be those who, for various reasons, let the techniques spread. All this was within expectation. Mo Zi had told him that technical secrecy has a time limit. To avoid being surpassed by others, one must surpass oneself. She held classes to train batch after batch of shipwrights who could keep up with her thinking—all to harness powerful collective strength in the future and compensate for one person’s limitations.
“Some people with sinister intentions sent assassins to take her life when my wife was giving birth, most likely fearing her shipbuilding skills would pose a threat to themselves—truly shortsighted. If she doesn’t help, won’t they learn on their own? The ships are right there—where there are buyers, there are sellers. If she dies, will there never again be outstanding craftsmen? Lu Ban was the ancestor of craftsmen, and after Lu Ban came many master craftsmen who surpassed him.” Yuan Cheng used this to mock Wu Yan while also telling him there was no need to harm Mo Zi anymore. As long as the King of Daqiu had the ability to steal techniques, he was welcome to try. Wu Yan’s face flushed red then pale in succession.
The Great Zhou Emperor interrupted at the right moment. “The Empress is still waiting.”
Mo Zi said to Yuan Cheng, “The benevolent see benevolence, the wise see wisdom. Husband, there’s no need to be so serious. I’ll go now.”
Wu Yan almost reached out to grab her. She was telling Yuan not to be serious with him, mocking him as neither benevolent nor wise, yet he wanted to ask why. Why was she willing to build ships for Yuan Cheng but refused to help him? Back then, he hadn’t hesitated to expose his own strength, forcing his father the King to spare her life—protecting her like that. Yet she showed him only resolute rejection, completely ignoring his desperate pleas. Knowing how much he hoped to borrow her abilities, she had burned those ship diagrams until almost nothing remained. Yuan treated her well, but didn’t he treat her well too? Yuan shielded her from his hostility, but if their positions were reversed, he would do the same. She had changed her heart. His mother consort said that when a woman changes her heart, she becomes more venomous than snakes and scorpions. Looking at her, his heart felt torn apart.
“My King, I too should go.” Noble Consort Ying intercepted Wu Yan’s hand midway and gently grasped it instead.
Wu Yan couldn’t help tightening his grip, realizing that if he seized Mo Zi, Yuan Cheng would immediately take her away from the capital, and all their plans would turn to bubbles. He must endure, just as he had endured waiting for the position of Crown Prince and King. Yuan Cheng must die, and Mo Zi—
Noble Consort Ying let out a muffled groan. Wu Yan’s forceful grip made her feel as though her bones would break. Pain caused sweat to bead on her temples. “My King, this consort is a guest—we cannot keep the Empress waiting long.”
Wu Yan came back to his senses and immediately released her, not offering a single gentle word. He coldly instructed, “Be cautious and courteous. Don’t disgrace Daqiu’s reputation.”
Noble Consort Ying lowered her head and said yes, then taking the noble ladies with her, turned to follow Geng Wo.
Zhong An walked behind them, conveniently separating Mo Zi and Xiao Yi from the others, leaving Xiao Wei to bring up the rear.
“Wu Yan sent someone to kill you?” Once certain the distance was sufficient, Xiao Wei asked in a low voice.
“Yes.” Mo Zi was somewhat surprised he would initiate conversation with her.
“The Northern Divine Sect?” This question from Xiao Wei drew Mo Zi’s stare, and he continued, “Wei Jia should have told you—someone secretly reported being an informant about the Crown Prince’s murder and arranged to meet me, but never appeared.”
“Do you have other information now?” Mo Zi noticed that though the two pavilion platforms looked close, they were actually far apart—they could chat a bit longer.
“I found a corpse.” Xiao Wei’s subordinates had persevered in their search and finally dug up the body. “He was a young eunuch from the Crown Prince’s palace who usually followed Eunuch Zhong. Do you still remember Eunuch Zhong?”
“That head eunuch who committed suicide outside the Cold Palace.” Of course she remembered.
“He died from the Heart-Gouging Blade of the Northern Divine Sect. The Northern Divine Sect—no need for me to explain—you should know they’re the King of Daqiu’s agents.” Xiao Wei deliberately slowed his pace, without ulterior motives, simply wanting to share this information.
“What’s the connection between the Northern Divine Sect and the Great Zhou Imperial Palace?” Mo Zi’s mind added another confused account.
“If Eunuch Zhong wasn’t going to pass messages to Prince Su, who else would he be looking for?” Xiao Wei asked in return.
“The Empress?” Both Xiao Yong and Xiao Wei were handling secret assignments for the Emperor—they should be exchanging information. So Mo Zi treated this as if he already knew her side’s speculation.
“If the Empress dispatched Northern Divine Sect members to silence witnesses, how did she contact them, how did she direct them?” Xiao Wei didn’t know the answer to this question, but perhaps she could figure it out.
“No matter how capable the Empress is, she can’t leave the palace freely unless the Northern Divine Sect members are right beside her.” Ah, could that be possible? Those newly arrived palace maids, and the eunuch and veiled woman on the nighttime passenger boat—Mo Zi understood something. “Xiao Wei, tell Yuan Cheng that the person Xu Jiu saw that night might be from the Northern Divine Sect, and these people might very well be disguised as palace maids staying close to the Empress. The Northern Divine Sect’s martial arts are sinister—you all must be careful.”
Xiao Wei’s hand clenched and released inside his sleeve. “Mo Zi, don’t go.”
Mo Zi shook her head. “It’s only a possibility. To verify it, we need to at least provide them with bait.” She had to go. Empress Wang had been fattening her up as bait since the chrysanthemum banquet—it was time to catch the big fish. She wouldn’t allow Mo Zi not to go. If she didn’t go, who could dispose of Xiao Mingrou’s pregnancy? If she didn’t go, how could she help Empress Wang perform this grand play? In this world, there are many times and many things that, even knowing they shouldn’t be done, must still be faced.
“You should worry about yourself.” Though Xiao Wei would never again mention his feelings for her, Song Mo Zi was a unique woman he admired, and his wish for her wellbeing remained unchanged.
“With so many people present today, and though going up and down the steps is quite troublesome, the two pavilion platforms clearly face each other—the Empress couldn’t possibly eliminate me directly.” She could be certain that Her Majesty the Empress wouldn’t stain her own hands with blood, and wouldn’t be so foolish either.
Zhong An slowed his steps, tilting his head. “We’ve arrived.”
Mo Zi smiled and jumped into the “trap.”