Bai Yu was twenty-five this year. Though not old in age, those who knew him absolutely didn’t dare underestimate him. Those words used to describe young people as rash, impulsive, and ignorant—not a single one applied to him. In fact, if he humbly claimed never to have seen something, nine times out of ten it was something most people would never see in their entire lives.
At this moment, standing on the Yongfu, he stared for a long time at that thing floating on the water with a feeling of being dumbstruck.
However, while he and Zhong An stood dazed, Brother Mo, Old Guan, and the others had already finished everything that needed doing and were beckoning them to jump aboard.
That thing—should be a small boat, right? Very strange looking. An ordinary small boat had a cabin much smaller than its hull. But this one’s cabin covered from bow to stern, like… a walnut shell, sealed tightly top and bottom, with two window slots opened at each end front and back. The cabin top had a round hatch that could open and close—people entered and exited through there. The hull had no color, or rather one should say it was raw wood color, brushed with tung oil to approach the color of reeds. Even the hull’s design was ingeniously imaginative—painted completely with reeds. Not knowing whose handiwork it was, it looked extremely realistic. Then decorated with a ring of real reed stalks around the boat—one could believe that once this boat entered the reed beach, no one could discover its traces.
Bai Yu felt his heart clamoring intensely. If this little thing could be used by the Great Zhou navy, would it have the unexpected surprise attack effect he imagined? Would it?
“Brother Mo, is this a boat?” Those with questions weren’t limited to Bai Yu, but Zhong An was affable and easygoing with people.
“Of course it’s a boat.” Chou Yu answered him.
“Why fasten two small boats together?” Zhong An’s description was quite apt.
“If not fastened together, how to sink—” Chou Yu chuckled, just about to explain.
“Gentlemen, if we don’t get moving, the sun will be beating on our heads, just right for people to catch and behead us.” Mo Zi timely stopped Chou Yu from continuing.
This kind of boat, she’d named it the Olive Boat. From design to manufacture, all passed through her own hands. The Olive Boat certainly wasn’t a submarine—being made of wood, over time the seams would more or less leak water. But as a swift vessel, it had many advantages. Small in size, able to hide, moving through water soundlessly. Each time after completing a transaction, she and Old Guan would sink the boat underwater. Because it was olive-shaped, when water leaked to a certain degree it would be subject to air pressure, maintaining an air pocket for the short term. Even in water it could maintain buoyancy. Unlike ordinary wooden boats—once sunk they stayed sunk, very troublesome to bring up.
In ancient times, land was vast and people sparse. Even in bustling great cities like Luo Zhou, there were places where human traces were rare. Moreover, finding struggling craftsmen with different skills to do temporary work made keeping secrets easy. Each time she went out, not returning to the mansion before dark, much of her time was spent on this kind of woodworking, including the Yongfu. Below the ship’s cabin was the tail rudder control lever she’d modified, able to quickly adjust the ship’s direction and timely avoid hidden reefs. When passing Startled Fish Rapids, Shui She was below controlling the tail rudder while Chou Yu transmitted rudder directions through copper pipes connecting upper and lower—otherwise how could they have passed through that natural barrier so smoothly? This was also why Old Guan and the others respected her, a young woman. One must know that in ancient times catching fish, there was a superstition that women couldn’t board boats. Of course, they didn’t know these improvements were her idea—they only thought she had craftsmanship skills and had used expert boat diagrams to make modifications.
These boat improvement techniques turned Qiu Sanniang’s originally loss-making, luck-dependent business into basically stable, enormous income. The two trips Mo Zi had made, each worth over ten thousand silver, and the entire boat gang returned safely—not a single copper of family consolation money needed.
For Mo Zi, the Yongfu and the Olive Boat—hammering and tinkering on two boats was really using a sledgehammer to crack a nut. However, while drawing blueprints for the Yongfu and Olive Boat, she relived the sense of achievement brought by ultrasonic detection torpedoes, dolphin boats, small single-person diving motor boats, and countless high-end treasures she’d built. Having boats was better than having no boats. At such times, she remembered Qiu Sanniang’s good points. If not for Qiu Sanniang only asking about results not process, completely unconcerned with boats as tools, she wouldn’t have dared make a small trial of her skills.
This dynasty’s shipbuilding arts, from a global perspective, were quite high among contemporary standards. But Mo Zi knew clearly that her improvements, though nothing in her own eyes, would cause震撼 reactions in peers’ eyes. Take the Olive Boat—if applied militarily, it would be a sharp knife thrust into the enemy army’s heart.
Bai Yu and Zhong An were Great Zhou court people—this point was beyond doubt. She stopped Chou Yu from continuing precisely to reduce the chance of such boats being used in warfare. She also had confidence that people who didn’t understand boats, even if they found the Olive Boat very novel and then relayed it to shipwrights, couldn’t make people understand the techniques involved. Like Old Guan, Chou Yu, and the others—after over ten years of sailing, though familiar with operating the Olive Boat, if you asked them specifically, they couldn’t explain the whys and wherefores. Because the most explanatory boat diagrams, she’d never shown anyone.
She didn’t know why, but whenever she thought of her designs being used in warfare, she couldn’t help but shudder all over.
“What’s that thing the boat’s dragging behind?” Shi Lei’s face was greenish, his body still somewhat swaying as he stood, but what should be curious still was curious.
“Smuggled goods.” Mo Zi had nothing to hide. She extended her hand. “Any more questions, get on the boat first and then talk.”
Bai Yu didn’t take Mo Zi’s hand. Gathering his energy with one step, he was first to enter the cabin.
The cabin size was about the same as the Yongfu’s, but it was elongated—one person could sit on each side, six in a row, two rows total, with space remaining at bow and stern.
Old Guan beckoned him to sit.
Bai Yu discovered another strange thing. Where feet rested, there was a protruding low box with a thick wooden board on each side of the box. When his leg accidentally touched it, that board was movable.
“Ah, sorry, Brother Bai, you sit two positions forward. That seat is for our boat gang.” Old Guan scratched his head, smiling honestly.
“Old Guan, what is this?” Bai Yu finally couldn’t help asking.
“This is a foot-pedaled oar.” Old Guan didn’t conceal it. He figured revealing one name wouldn’t give away anything.
Foot-pedaled oar?
Just a name, yet Bai Yu was extremely astonished. Without exaggeration, every single feature of this boat opened his eyes wide. Walnut shell, camouflage color, foot-pedaled oars. These—no, who built this boat? The most outstanding shipwrights he knew in Great Zhou definitely couldn’t build such an ingenious boat.
Bai Yu wanted to ask Old Guan, but that Brother Mo had already come down from the cabin top. This person was quite cautious—very difficult to extract words from Old Guan in front of him. So he sat quietly, but his eyes blazed brightly, not wanting to miss any detail. When everyone was seated, he observed four foot-pedaled oars at bow and stern, operated respectively by Old Guan’s group. Brother Mo was at the stern, both hands controlling a round wooden rod. The foot-pedaled oars were somewhat like a pulley, but also not like a pulley. The pedaling motion reminded him of folk waterwheels, but it was different from waterwheels too. Moreover, he saw through the small forward window that the boat was moving, yet couldn’t hear half a sound of paddling water. Left then right, turning quite quickly yet silently.
Zhong An sitting beside him pushed him. He turned his face to see Zhong An’s expression full of amazement, his sleeve revealing his hand pointing at those foot-pedaled oars.
At this moment, Bai Yu had just one thought in his mind—
He must find this boat builder!