Mo Zi stood on the ship’s observation platform, raising her eyes to survey the shape of distant waves.

Above her head was a windmill she’d made with her own hands, which could show wind direction and estimate wind speed. Don’t think these things were easy. Although she could design the finest warships, that was under circumstances where all the software was already available. If she had to create each component part by part with her own hands, possessing the theory didn’t equal possessing everything—just like the pencil she’d made, the windmill had also encountered failure after failure. Especially the wind speed calculation function—who knew how many brain cells it had cost her.

Therefore, harboring the supreme theory of engines, Mo Zi knew that to actually build one would be in the distant future. Without the already-constructed ninety-nine floors, the height of the hundredth floor couldn’t appear out of thin air.

“The tide’s starting to go out—southeast wind, wind speed two,” she turned her head and shouted to Old Guan.

“Got it!” Old Guan began directing the three brothers to loosen the sails, calling out about the mast.

Mo Zi looked down at the several of them working, thinking to herself—if those people didn’t come soon, they shouldn’t blame her for not waiting. Her eyes rolled, and suddenly six people on six horses entered her line of sight. The one in the lead wore white robes with brocade sash, face like jade, eyes like stars, tall cap with bright pearls, bearing extraordinary and dignified. If not that family’s second young master, then whose second young master was he?

She discovered he was also looking at her, so she raised her eyebrows and lifted her head, the corner of her mouth curling in a smile both yin and yang in nature, murmuring, “Tch, what good timing.”

The six riders urged their horses forward. Cen Er, who had been about to retract the gangplank, saw them and couldn’t help but turn pale with shock. He looked up and asked Mo Zi, “Brother Mo, why is it them again? Could they be coming for us?”

Mo Zi knew in her heart it was she herself who had invited them by choosing the penalty wine, but she couldn’t very well admit it in front of Cen Er. She could only say, “Perhaps they got the information from elsewhere. Don’t panic yet—I’ll handle this.”

In the time it took to speak, both people and horses had already arrived before the Yongfu.

Shi Lei muttered in a low voice, “Why is this fellow here too?”

Zhong An laughed cheerfully. “Excellent—as expected, traveling the same route as us.” He glanced sideways and saw his expression unchanged, as if he’d already predicted with certainty that the person would be here. “Looks like you guessed right again.”

Erlang said in a deep voice, instructing the two people on his left and right, “Do as we discussed earlier.”

Once he gave serious orders, Zhong An and Shi Lei also became solemn, each saying “Yes.”

“What a coincidence indeed.” Mo Zi grabbed the thick rope from the observation platform and slid down, taking several steps across the wooden ladder from the cabin roof to the deck, hands clasped behind her back, smiling face welcoming. “It seems you gentlemen have found your connections.”

“Indeed, indeed.” The “official spokesperson” was always Brother Zhong An. “Young brother, didn’t expect to see you again. Please take good care of us along the way.”

Cen Er hastily interjected, “Who says we’re on the same boat with you?”

Mo Zi continued smiling. “He’s not wrong—who says we’re on the same boat with you? We’re going to Yun Zhou, different direction from you.”

“Hmm? That can’t be right. Someone said the Yongfu is going where we’re going. Young brother, if you know the boat owner, please kindly introduce us.” Zhong An also smiled from horseback.

“This boat is going to Yun Zhou, and you’re going to—” Cen Er, fearing too many ears at the dock, left half his sentence unsaid. “Introduce what! You’ve got the wrong boat, hurry along, don’t delay our departure.”

“What’s going on?” Old Guan, hearing some commotion, walked over.

“Is this elderly gentleman the boat owner?” Erlang spoke up.

“Well—if you put it that way, I suppose so.” The boat was registered in his name, though he hadn’t paid the silver for it.

“We wish to take passage across the river. Please do us this convenience, elderly sir.” Erlang’s sharp gaze swept lightly past Mo Zi, looking toward Old Guan.

“Just now it sounded like you gentlemen aren’t traveling the same route as us.” The boat was only so big—speaking a bit loudly, one could hear crystal clear.

“That’s not it. Wherever this boat goes, we go.” Shi Lei was tall and robust in build, his voice also like striking a bell.

Mo Zi’s scalp tingled, cursing him silently for being stupid. What did he mean “wherever the boat goes, we go”—why not just say “you’re smuggling goods and taking us along while you’re at it”? Wouldn’t people find that strange?

“Where exactly are you gentlemen headed?” Old Guan remained calm amid the alarm, stroking his graying beard. “My boat goes to Yun Zhou. Are you gentlemen also going there?”

“Precisely.” Zhong An was straightforward. “I see your boat is quite large, elderly sir. Just take on a few more passengers—we’ll pay extra for passage.”

“Mine isn’t the only boat going to Yun Zhou. Why don’t you gentlemen inquire elsewhere?” They couldn’t be taken anywhere. Old Guan thought of a reason. “This boat has been chartered by these two gentlemen—we don’t carry other passengers. Really very sorry about that.”

Zhong An laughed inwardly—just as they’d said beforehand, the decision-making power had circled back to Brother Mo’s hands.

“This young brother, we’re not exactly strangers. Why be so unreasonable? River travel is dull—wouldn’t having more people make it livelier?” He began negotiating with Mo Zi.

“Sir, though your words have merit, I’m also following my master’s orders in handling affairs. I really can’t make decisions on my own authority.” Mo Zi narrowed her eyes, waving her hands vigorously.

“A general in the field need not accept all commands from his sovereign. Charter fees aren’t small—we’re willing to bear half, so you can spend half less. How you handle this extra silver is none of our concern.” Zhong An deployed their specialty—temptation with profit.

“Who cares about that bit of silver?” Cen Er snorted.

“You little brat!” Shi Lei at this point deliberately lowered his roar. “Don’t care about silver? Do you care about your little life?”

“You… what do you mean?” Cen Er, seeing the other party suddenly lower his voice, found his own momentum also weakened.

“You know very well what I mean. Let me tell you—if you don’t let this old man on the boat, this old man will loudly shout about all those dealings of yours right here. If that brings the authorities, don’t blame this old man for being unreasonable.” Shi Lei kept saying “this old man,” his manner aggressive, his face full of fierce and vicious expressions.

“You!” Cen Er’s heart sank—the smuggled goods were all already on the boat. So he leaned toward Mo Zi’s ear. “Brother Mo, what do we do?”

“Seems we can only take them aboard.” Mo Zi was happy to go with the flow. “If they really want to be ruthless and have the authorities come search the boat, we’re finished.”

“But how do we explain this to our employer? This is our last transaction—if the secret gets out, that would also be terrible.” Cen Er was caught between a rock and a hard place.

“Let them board first, and we’ll discuss it inside the cabin. Standing here too long invites suspicion.” This was Mo Zi’s suggestion.

Could Cen Er disagree? Though he felt it was easy to invite guests but hard to send them away, it was still better than inviting official trouble.

“Three gentlemen, please come aboard. Everything can be discussed.” Mo Zi made a welcoming gesture.

The three people plus the two entered the ship’s cabin, and saw that inside the pitch-black cabin, though spacious, it was both broken and old. Except for a lame low table, there was no other furniture.

“Not even a single chair.” Shi Lei looked down on it. “Will it leak?”

“If we put in chairs, where would people lie down to sleep?” Cen Er snorted through his nose. “Rest assured—it looks shabby, but absolutely doesn’t leak wind or rain. Besides, if you want to enjoy comfort, go home and enjoy it.”

“The young brother speaks truly.” Zhong An smiled, then said to Shi Lei, “Stone, just this not leaking wind or rain makes it better than your tent.”

“Since you already have a boat, why must you ride on ours?” Cen Er, hearing him mention a tent, thought he meant a boat canopy.

“Young brother, I’m talking about the shack he usually lives in.” Zhong An explained.

Cen Er, seeing they didn’t look like poor people, thought he was tricking him. He gave a cold snort and turned his head away, unwilling to acknowledge them further.

Mo Zi, seeing the smell of gunpowder was strong, didn’t mind. She crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows to look at the one in the lead.