A strange, married man appearing out of nowhere in her yard jolted Xie Yushu fully awake. She no longer felt like going back to sleep. Wondering what he wanted, she asked, “Is there something you need?”
Tian Kang smiled at her. “You can call me Tian Fūlang. We’re neighbors, actually—my house is over there.” He pointed in a direction, and indeed, it wasn’t far from Xie Yushu’s place.
But Xie Yushu wasn’t interested in where he lived. She still looked at him with confusion.
“I’m the village matchmaker. Go ahead and ask around—most of the marriages in the nearby villages were arranged by me.” Tian Kang spoke with his chin raised high, clearly proud of his matchmaking skills.
Xie Yushu immediately understood—he wanted to play matchmaker for her.
But something didn’t add up. She’d never sought him out. Had he come to her on his own? And what was he after?
She asked directly, “You came to find me to arrange a match?”
Tian Kang nodded with a smile. Indeed, he’d been hired by the Huang family to ask about Xie Yushu’s willingness—and their condition was that she marry into the family. Tian Kang had taken the job and come bright and early.
In his eyes, the Huang family’s unmarried young man, Huang Xiaomi, and Xie Yushu were worlds apart in appearance—one was ordinary, the other stunning. He felt they were completely mismatched. But since he’d taken the Huang family’s money, he had to do a good job, so he immediately started laying his trap.
“Miss Xie, you’re young and good-looking, but you’re still unmarried. Most women your age are already mothers, yet you’re still alone—what a pity.” Tian Kang shook his head and sighed, looking as if he truly felt sorry for her.
“I’m still young—I’m not in a rush.” Having figured out his intent, Xie Yushu had no interest in playing along and directly stated her position.
Tian Kang was glib and observant. While talking to Xie Yushu, his eyes hadn’t stopped roaming either—they darted around, surveying the Zhai house. He was secretly pleased: this house had flaws in every corner.
As if he hadn’t heard her, he began pointing out the faults in Xie Yushu’s house: “This place is far too old and small.”
Most village houses were similar, differing mainly in size. But other families had thriving households—more people, more land, bigger yards and houses, and they repaired them regularly. Compared to them, the Zhai house was far inferior.
To put it bluntly, this place wasn’t much bigger than a pigsty.
Xie Yushu shrugged. “It’s just right for one person. Living alone is quiet and free.”
Tian Kang waved his hand dismissively, clearly disagreeing. “It’s fine for one person, but after you marry a husband and have children, where will everyone live?”
“Without a husband to take care of you, you won’t even have hot meals.”
“Can you handle all the household chores on your own?”
“And with no land and no job now, how will you support yourself in the future?”
Xie Yushu raised an eyebrow at the still-chattering Tian Fūlang. They’d only met less than a quarter of an hour ago, yet he acted as if they were old acquaintances—or worse, like a disappointed elder—finding fault with everything about her.
“As for household chores,” Xie Yushu glanced around the empty yard, “as you can see, there’s nothing much to worry about.”
“I can cook my own meals, and as for work, don’t worry—I won’t starve.”
If she really did starve, maybe she’d end up back in her original world—that wouldn’t be so bad. Just thinking about it made her brow relax.
She didn’t want to engage with him anymore and turned back to her own tasks.
The makeshift shed in the yard was about to collapse. She was contemplating how to tear it down.
Then another thought struck her—she found a flaw in Tian Kang’s words. If she was so hopeless, why was he here proposing a match? And whose son was it anyway?
Seeing that Xie Yushu wouldn’t budge, Tian Kang realized he was wasting his breath. There was no point in making himself unwelcome. He understood her stance and decided to report back to the Huang family.
He’d come to test her willingness to marry, and after all his talk, he could see that Xie Yushu hadn’t been swayed in the slightest. He wasn’t one to give up easily—he’d just have to come back another time.
After Tian Fūlang left, Xie Yushu went back inside. She didn’t give the matter a second thought.
She’d only been here a short while—why would she get married? Not only did she not have a man she liked, but even if she did, what would she have to offer? She didn’t even have a proper house yet.
Though she had zero romantic experience in her previous life, she knew better than to shortchange anyone.
Over the next few days, Xie Yushu stayed home resting and thoroughly explored the village.
The village wasn’t large—she’d finished exploring it in less than a day. She also walked through the back mountain, which was quite extensive, and familiarized herself with the paths.
The villagers had grown used to her presence over the past few days, and they’d nod in greeting when they passed each other.
Only once did she run into Su Chi returning from his stall after closing up. Xie Yushu gave him a polite smile and even thought about buying buns directly from his house. But Su Chi, catching sight of her, gave her a cold look and offered no response, quickly walking away.
Watching his thin retreating figure, Xie Yushu clearly sensed his distance and couldn’t figure out why.
Had she done something to offend him? Weren’t they on good terms before?
That didn’t make sense. Xie Yushu reviewed her behavior over the past few days—aside from helping him chase off that annoying relative that day, she hadn’t done anything else.
Perhaps it was just that unmarried young men were supposed to keep their distance from unmarried women. Xie Yushu found that reason sufficient.
During her days in the village, she’d learned a fair bit about Su Chi—his name, his family situation.
Truly… just as pitiful as her—both burdened with irritating relatives and tragic backgrounds.
One day, Xie Yushu was sunning firewood in the yard—wood she’d gathered from the back mountain. It had rained that morning, leaving everything damp, so after lunch she spread it out to dry in the strong sun. It would be ready to use soon.
“Is Xie Yushu home?”
At the call, Xie Yushu stood up and replied, “I’m her.”
She looked toward the gate. The speaker was a woman she’d never seen in the village before—stern-faced, tall and sturdy, clearly strong.
Her clothes were neat but had a few patches sewn in thread matching the fabric. Most villagers wore clothes without patches, so her household was likely not well-off.
Xie Yushu walked to the gate to speak with her and learned her name was Ye Youchun, also a villager, who worked as a stevedore at Mapu Ferry.
Ye Youchun delivered the message: “Miss Du wants you to come to the ferry this afternoon.”
Ye Youchun had been quietly hauling sacks at the ferry when she was suddenly summoned by one of Du Yinghua’s attendants and told to go back and inform Xie Yushu, a fellow villager, to come to the ferry that afternoon for something important.
She’d only started working there a few days ago and didn’t know Xie Yushu, the former ferry steward. But since the boss had given the order, she simply followed it.
“Du Yinghua?”
Ye Youchun nodded.
It seemed the matter she’d mentioned last time had progressed. Xie Yushu agreed: “Got it. I’ll go.”
After Ye Youchun left, Xie Yushu’s plan for an afternoon nap was scrapped. She decided to leave now—it was the right time anyway.
Before heading out, she tucked a few qian of silver into her pouch, leaving the remaining ten-odd guan hidden in a hole in the corner of the kitchen wall—a spot she’d discovered just yesterday, perfect for stashing money.
That afternoon, Xie Yushu arrived at the ferry and made her way to the accounting office as if she’d done it a thousand times. Before she even reached the door, Du Yinghua’s attendant Azi spotted her and waved from the entrance.
“You’re finally here! Miss has been waiting for a while—hurry in.” Azi opened the door and let her inside.
As soon as Xie Yushu stepped in, Du Yinghua thrust an account book at her, speaking urgently: “There really is something fishy about what you mentioned last time. The accountant and I went over the books for this period and found nothing wrong at all.”
Du Yinghua opened the ledger and handed it to Xie Yushu.
The original owner had been excellent at arithmetic, and Xie Yushu had inherited her memory and skills, so she could naturally understand the contents.
She took it and flipped through quickly. The more she read, the deeper her frown grew.
At first glance, the ledger seemed completely flawless—but that was precisely the problem. If Luo Qi was really an informant, how could everything be perfectly clean?
Xie Yushu looked up and asked Du Yinghua, “Since the books have no issues, what exactly is the ‘something fishy’ you’re talking about?”
Du Yinghua grew anxious: “The problem is that there’s no problem—isn’t that itself a big problem?”
She now found everything about Luo Qi irritating, as if she’d already convicted her of being Fan’s Trading Company’s spy. She just lacked the evidence to act.
Well, at least this one had some instincts.
Xie Yushu read through the ledger twice more before noticing something off about the recent volume of medicinal herbs passing through.
Yang Shuang and Du Yinghua might not have known, but the original owner knew it inside out—she’d been dealing with these goods every day for years.
Throughout the four seasons, medicinal herbs were one of the ferry’s largest commodity categories. But recently, the inbound volume of certain herbs had dropped.
Summer was peak season for heatstroke, dysentery, boils, eczema, malaria, and other illnesses, so herbs like patchouli, honeysuckle, baikal skullcap, sweet wormwood, and anemarrhena were in high demand. Yet the inbound volume of precisely these herbs had been cut by half.
Conversely, Songwan Town was now exporting these same herbs. Xie Yushu noted the destination—a neighboring county.
Local demand was already insufficient—how could there be surplus to send elsewhere? And the outbound volume appeared just days after the inbound volume plummeted. The timeline was clear: first imports dropped, then exports immediately surged.
Something was deeply wrong.
Xie Yushu stared at the recorded figures, lost in thought.
One possible explanation was that the main growing regions had poor harvests this year, or that some area had suffered a massive outbreak of these diseases, requiring all herbs to be diverted there—hence the sharp drop in inbound volume.
That was plausible.
Xie Yushu shared her thoughts with Du Yinghua, who reacted immediately.
“What’s the name of the ship transporting the herbs?”
Xie Yushu pointed to a few characters on the page: “Xingyun Hao.”
One of the ferry steward’s duties was to record the names of all incoming and outgoing vessels and the types and quantities of goods they carried.
Du Yinghua quickly connected the dots: “If I’m not mistaken, this should be one of Fan’s hidden vessels. Fan is using this ship to transport herbs from Songwan Town—and possibly from elsewhere—to their warehouses in the neighboring county. They’re waiting for prices to spike, then they’ll dump their stock and rake in dirty profits.”
Having said that, Du Yinghua called Azi in and gave the order: “Send someone to discreetly find out who owns the Xingyun Hao. Don’t alert anyone.”
Azi immediately went off to carry out the order.
“So that means Luo Qi hasn’t been tampering with the books themselves. She’s just been passing along the ferry’s inventory data to Fan’s Trading Company. Based on our actual volume of goods, Fan adjusts their own stockpiling to maximize their profits.” The more Du Yinghua thought about it, the more it made sense.
That Fan family—treating them all like fools!
Xie Yushu looked at her with surprise. So this one was actually pretty sharp—she’d figured out that much too.
Luo Qi wouldn’t have tampered with the books—that was obvious. Others might not know Luo Qi, but Xie Yushu did.
Luo Qi simply didn’t have the skill to cook the books. How she’d convinced Du Yinghua to give her the position was another mystery.
Fan’s Trading Company had likely recruited her precisely because she could access the ledgers and relay detailed information. They probably knew she lacked the ability to falsify records as well.
After mulling things over, Du Yinghua reflected internally.
She’d been right to seek out Xie Yushu. She and Accountant Yang couldn’t spot the problem, but Xie Yushu had found it after just two readings.
She’d previously thought the ferry steward’s job could be done by anyone. Now she realized it wasn’t that simple—it required talent like Xie Yushu’s.
Now that the issue was exposed, the rest was out of her hands. Xie Yushu stood up to take her leave.
Du Yinghua stayed silent, simply watching her with an expression Xie Yushu couldn’t quite read.
Was it admiration? Or resentment?
Because she’d been the one to spot the herb discrepancy?
Then she remembered—this person was petty by nature. Maybe her competence had rubbed her the wrong way again.
But to her surprise, Du Yinghua placed a hand on her shoulder and said earnestly, “My aunt and I will handle the rest. You’re the one who cracked this—we won’t forget it.”
She even saw her out the door step by step.
Xie Yushu was caught off guard by this sudden shift. Du Yinghua was so mercurial—she never knew when she’d offended her or when she’d earned her favor.
Oh well, why bother trying to figure her out? She didn’t seem any older than herself anyway.
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