At the mention of wages, Accountant Yang’s expression froze for a moment. Her eyes darted around shiftily before looking elsewhere.
“Yang Shuang,” Xie Yushu called her by her full name casually, looking up at her. “Du Yinghua had you withhold three months of my wages, remember?”
Wages at the ferry were paid monthly. Three months ago, the ferry suddenly announced they would hold back several months’ pay to fund the expansion of the docks and other areas, promising each employee an extra three qian per month in compensation once the expansion was complete.
Mapu Ferry usually saw heavy traffic, earned a lot, and had a good reputation, so the staff had no objections. After all, it was only three months—no one’s household was on the brink of collapse—and enduring it would mean extra money in the end. No one would say no.
It was right at this juncture that Xie Yushu got fired by the Du family, leaving three months’ wages unjustly withheld.
Accountant Yang was rather surprised that Xie Yushu directly named the Du family. What had gotten into her today? Since when did she have this much nerve?
She had worked with Xie Yushu for years and knew her well.
This person was usually quiet, withdrawn, and gloomy, with a courage no greater than a clam’s. Aside from focusing on her own duties, she had no other vices.
Some time ago, she’d somehow offended the Du family and been driven out, forbidden from collecting the wages withheld over those months. Yang was only following orders—after all, the Du family were relatives of the ferry’s behind-the-scenes boss.
This wasn’t something Yang could decide. She was racking her brains for a way to get rid of her when a commotion came from outside—someone had entered the yard, and the people there were greeting them.
A woman in fine clothes strode into the room, followed by an attendant. The two barged in without ceremony.
“Accountant Yang, I need to see you—” Du Yinghua pushed the door open and brightened at the sight of Yang. There seemed to be some issue with the accounts that she couldn’t quite figure out, and she’d come to ask. Then she spotted someone who shouldn’t be here at all.
“What are you doing here?” Du Yinghua narrowed her eyes at her.
The moment she entered, she saw Xie Yushu lounging in the armchair, looking relaxed, idly toying with a purple clay teacup. Du Yinghua was about to erupt and throw her out when Yang cut in.
“Miss Du, perfect timing. Steward Xie has something to discuss with you.” Accountant Yang was relieved to see her. She gestured toward Du Yinghua and promptly slipped away.
The debt had its owner, the grievance its source. If Xie Yushu wanted money, she should take it up with the Du family—it had nothing to do with her.
Seeing Du Yinghua appear on her own saved Xie Yushu the trouble of seeking her out. She smiled. “Perfect timing—I was just about to look for you.”
“What do you want? I kicked you out, so why do you have the nerve to come crawling back?” Du Yinghua was annoyed just looking at her. She remembered how proud and aloof this person was, how she looked down on someone like her who got by on connections—and the resentment flared up again.
“Nothing much—just here to collect what’s mine. Miss Du had three months of my wages withheld. Remember that?”
Du Yinghua let out a contemptuous “Hmph.” So what if she did? Who told her to speak ill of her?
Xie Yushu wasn’t in a hurry. She took a sip of tea from the armchair and said slowly, “Could I ask why you fired me?”
Was it simply because you disliked me? Or because my work wasn’t up to par and you found a better replacement?
Actually, Xie Yushu doubted both possibilities.
First, the original owner had never actively associated with anyone, afraid of getting entangled. Xie Yushu couldn’t figure out why anyone would go out of their way to hate her.
Second, while the original owner had serious personality flaws, she was diligent and hardworking. Every day she walked from Songwan Town to the ferry on her own two feet, directing ships to dock and depart in an orderly manner, tallying cargo, recording ledgers, inspecting official documents, collecting tolls, and balancing accounts. Through all these complex and tedious tasks, she’d never made a single mistake. Xie Yushu found it even less likely that this was the reason.
Caught off guard by the question, Du Yinghua found herself at a loss for words.
It wasn’t that she hated the original owner—quite the opposite: the original owner had hated her.
Such an absurd reason couldn’t hold water—it was too shameful. Who fires someone just because they don’t like you? It was utterly capricious and unbelievable.
But that was exactly the kind of person Du Yinghua was. As her mother would say, she’d claim three parts even when she had no ground to stand on. She’d been petty since childhood and couldn’t stand being disliked, let alone being publicly humiliated.
“Did Luo Qi say something to you?” Xie Yushu probed, seeing that she remained silent.
Caught so directly, Du Yinghua instinctively nodded.
This Xie woman had become so unfamiliar after just a few days. Normally, shouldn’t she not even dare to look up at her? How dare she interrogate her like this?
Seeing Du Yinghua nod, Xie Yushu felt a wave of “just as I thought” wash over her.
Xie Yushu’s suspicions were now about seventy to eighty percent confirmed—the root of this whole mess was indeed her “best friend” Luo Qi.
“How did she stir things up with you?” Xie Yushu’s tone grew heavy. She wanted this answer not for herself, but to ask on behalf of the original owner.
The Xie Yushu before her now seemed to have transformed into a completely different person. Her earlier lazy demeanor had taken a sharp turn, leaving behind a quiet, oppressive intensity.
Du Yinghua, somehow cowed by her, found herself almost involuntarily recounting what Luo Qi had told her.
Luo Qi had secretly told Du Yinghua that because the ferry’s true boss was her aunt, Xie Yushu disliked people who got by on connections. She claimed Xie Yushu thought Du Yinghua was incompetent and only there to freeload. In short, Luo Qi had trampled all over Du Yinghua’s sore spots, again and again.
How could Du Yinghua tolerate that? If Xie Yushu hated nepotism, then fine—she’d show her what a “connected” person could do. Wasn’t it just a minor steward position? Anyone at the ferry could do it. So she immediately ordered Xie Yushu to pack up and leave.
The original owner, indecisive and full of cowardice, could only panic when wrongly accused, opening her mouth without knowing how to explain herself. So she said nothing, packed her things, and slunk home in disgrace.
As soon as the words left her mouth, Du Yinghua cursed inwardly: Damn it, why did I spill everything? Had she been coerced? How did she end up confessing the whole story Luo Qi had told her?
And that Xie Yushu—demanding her wages with such audacity, so thick-skinned!
Sure, she’d kicked her out and withheld her pay, but couldn’t the woman leave her some face?
It wasn’t like she wasn’t going to pay her back! She’d return the money once her anger cooled—why was this person so impatient?
Xie Yushu paid no attention to Du Yinghua’s indignation. She was quietly mulling things over in her mind:
So this was all Luo Qi’s scheme.
After getting the original owner fired, dragging her to the gambling den had been the final, crushing blow—leaving her to die of depression alone in that broken-down house.
No, maybe it was even more than that. In her final days, the original owner must have seen clearly what was happening.
Looking back on the years she’d known Luo Qi, she’d finally seen her “friend’s” true colors and felt nothing but regret and disgust at her own foolish trust. That belated awakening was even more deadly than losing everything she owned.
Add to that the years of abuse at her aunt’s house, the contempt she’d endured, the coldness of the world—she’d lost all will to live.
Utterly disheartened, she’d curled up alone in that strange, dilapidated house and died of grief, bringing her miserable, lonely life to an end.
Xie Yushu let out a long sigh. After piecing together the truth of the original owner’s death, a flood of emotions swirled in her heart.
After a long while, she finally explained to Du Yinghua: “I never disliked you. I’m just naturally timid, afraid of offending people. I didn’t dare look you in the eye or speak to you. Everything Luo Qi told you was a deliberate fabrication—none of it came from me.”
Xie Yushu said this to clear the original owner’s name. The original owner had never harbored any ill will.
“R-Really?” Du Yinghua asked.
Though, to be honest, Du Yinghua didn’t see where this supposed timidity was. The way Xie Yushu sat there, so brazen, anyone would think she ran the place.
Prompted by Xie Yushu’s words, Du Yinghua finally realized how strange Luo Qi’s behavior had been.
Weren’t they supposed to be close friends for years? In fact, Luo Qi only had that odd job at the ferry because of Xie Yushu’s help. So why had she gone out of her way to badmouth Xie Yushu that day?
Wasn’t that deliberately sowing discord?
She’d been duped. She’d acted on hearsay and rashly driven Xie Yushu out, even handing her position to Luo Qi with a wave of her hand. Now that she thought about it, she’d been utterly foolish.
This “connected” woman’s reaction was somewhat unexpected—she was being surprisingly reasonable.
But Xie Yushu hadn’t come just to collect her wages. The reason she was so confident she’d get her money was that she had something crucial to reveal—something of great importance to Mapu Ferry.
“There’s something I think you should know,” Xie Yushu said, extracting a few keywords from the original owner’s fragments of memory: “Fan’s Trading Company, Luo Qi, the account books.”
She wasn’t some saint who repaid evil with good—she just didn’t want Luo Qi and whoever was behind her to succeed.
“Wh-What?” Du Yinghua was stunned at the sudden mention of those words.
It was no secret that Fan’s Trading Company had been eyeing the ferry, wanting to take it over. The shareholders all knew.
Du Yinghua’s aunt held the largest stake among the investors, so her voice carried more weight at the ferry, and she’d mentioned this matter to Du Yinghua in passing.
Suddenly, something clicked. Du Yinghua looked up at Xie Yushu in horror, belatedly realizing just how thoroughly Luo Qi had played her.
Du Yinghua wasn’t particularly sharp—her mind wasn’t the quickest—but she came from a merchant family and had been immersed in that world since childhood. With those three keywords combined, it took only a moment’s thought for her to realize what was going on.
Fan’s Trading Company was planning to use the account books as an entry point, colluding with Luo Qi to take over the ferry.
The more she thought about it, the more alarmed she became. She had to go find her aunt and discuss countermeasures immediately.
Xie Yushu raised an eyebrow at her. So she wasn’t entirely stupid—she’d grasped the gravity of the situation right away.
Du Yinghua told Xie Yushu to keep quiet for now and not alert anyone. “Xie Yushu, if what you’ve said is true, then I was a fool who fell for a scheme. I owe you an apology for this matter, and I’ll make it right.”
With that, she bent down to give some instructions to her attendant, told her to call Accountant Yang to settle Xie Yushu’s wages, and left in a hurry.
The attendant quietly summoned Yang Shuang and ordered her to pay Xie Yushu the three months’ wages she was owed, then stood outside the door waiting.
Yang Shuang came in, looking at Xie Yushu in disbelief—she’d actually managed to get her money? How had she done it?
And Miss Du had also told her to keep the matter confidential and not tell anyone.
She didn’t ask questions or pry—she just obediently did as she was told.
A steward at the ferry earned one guan and eight qian per month. For three months, that came to five guan and four qian, plus nine qian in compensation for the three months, totaling six guan and three qian—that was six thousand three hundred copper coins.
Yang Shuang counted out the silver from the accounts and handed it over: several small pieces of silver and three strings of a hundred copper coins each. The heavy weight of silver fell into Xie Yushu’s palm.
Xie Yushu clutched the hard-earned wages tightly, feeling a warmth spread through her entire body—the comforting glow of money. She immediately stuffed it into her dingy money pouch, which swelled fat and round, practically radiating a brilliant light.
Then something else occurred to her. The ferry always distributed dried goods during festivals, and there’d just been one at the end of spring not long ago.
She mentioned it offhandedly. Yang Shuang resignedly went to the warehouse to fetch some for her.
After Yang Shuang had walked away, Du Yinghua’s attendant, Azi, slipped in quietly and pressed something into Xie Yushu’s palm.
Azi leaned in and whispered, “This is what Miss usually spends on herself. Don’t think it’s too little—our mistress keeps a tight watch on her and doesn’t let her waste money. It’s extra compensation from Miss. Take it for now, and once this matter is settled, there’ll be more for you.”
“And remember,” Azi added gravely, “you must not tell anyone about this.”
“Got it. I understand,” Xie Yushu agreed.
With that, Azi left to find Du Yinghua.
She hadn’t expected a windfall. Miss Du wasn’t a bad person—she was actually quite generous.
Xie Yushu opened her palm and was stunned—it was a full eight guan, even more than her wages.
So this was the pocket money of young ladies and young masters. No wonder they had so much.
Yang Shuang returned, carrying dried goods wrapped in oil paper, and handed them to Xie Yushu.
Xie Yushu took her “employee holiday welfare” without hesitation. Unwrapping the oil paper, she found several large, thick, neatly cut salted fish—excellent in color, texture, and aroma. She was very satisfied.
“Alright, thanks. I’ll be going now.”
Yang Shuang finally saw off this unwelcome guest, closed the door, and lay back down.
Outside in the yard, a woman arrived late, her expression sour.
“Steward Luo, you’re quite late today, aren’t you?” A laborer in the yard looked up and asked.
Luo Qi’s face wasn’t looking too good. She brushed it off with a casual excuse: “Got held up on the way.”
Held up was an understatement—she’d barely made it out of her house.
When she’d stepped out, people from Zhengda Gambling House had cornered her at home, demanding she hand over the forty guan.
She knew immediately that Xie Yushu had told them. When she’d set up the trap to swindle Xie Yushu, she’d agreed with another person at the gambling house to split the money equally. That person had been very agreeable, saying the boss was out of town collecting debts and wouldn’t be back for a while.
But the boss had returned early—that woman in black who’d led the group, with eagle-like eyes that bore straight into her. Luo Qi had been so frightened she could barely breathe.
Half of the forty guan had gone to the gambling house contact, and the other half she’d kept. But she’d already spent it all on her brothers’ dowries—she had nothing left to give them.
She could only force a smile and plead with them to come back in a few days, saying she’d get a loan from Boss Fan in the meantime.
The laborer hesitated but didn’t press further.
The laborer continued: “Steward Xie—uh, I mean Xie Yushu—she came by earlier looking for the accountant to get her wages.”
At the mention of Xie Yushu, Luo Qi grew tense. “And? Did Accountant Yang give them to her?”
The laborer shook his head. “Doesn’t seem like she got the money. Accountant Yang sent her off with some dried vegetables that had been sitting in storage for years.”
He was just a hired hand. He’d seen Yang Shuang go to the warehouse and wrap up something, asked casually, and was told it was just some worthless dried vegetables to get rid of Xie Yushu. He didn’t know anything else.
Luo Qi let out a contemptuous snort. Xie Yushu was still the same useless pushover. That was a relief.
Thinking about that waste of space Xie Yushu getting brushed off by Accountant Yang made her feel a lot better.
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