My Emperor Father Can Read Minds

While the conversation on this side was lively and heated, over there Xu Xianghe felt caught in a dilemma—neither wanting to leave nor stay.

Xu Xianghe was self-aware. Over the past few days on the boat, she had been taken care of by Chu Chaoyun in every way. Now, this topic was probably not something good to be overheard by others, yet this “other person” happened to hear everything very clearly.

The two seemed to have forgotten she was still there, only just remembering her presence.

Chu Chaoyun and Xu Xianghe’s eyes met; the latter blushed deeply, and in a moment, raised her hand in a pledge: “Y-you all can rest assured, I’d never, ever tell anyone about this! Absolutely not!!”

Chu Chaoyun smiled slightly but said something that caught Xu Xianghe off guard: “Swearing is the most useless thing; I don’t believe in it.”

Otherwise, with so much thunder and lightning every year, who do you think it’s meant to strike?

She teased herself inwardly.

Before Xu Xianghe could say more, Chu Chaoyun turned to Mrs. Diao: “Aunt, these past two days I’ve been thinking of ways to sell more silver the next time we get off the boat.”

Mrs. Diao nodded repeatedly: “That’s right, even selling ten wen worth of cotton first would be good.”

“No, no.”

Chu Chaoyun laughed: “What I want is to trouble you to get another bedsheet for Xianghe as well.”

Chu Chaoyun’s words were startling; Mrs. Diao was momentarily stunned, but the most surprised was Xu Xianghe herself.

Xu Xianghe’s thin lips trembled twice, almost not knowing what to say.

Chu Chaoyun looked at her smilingly, wearing an expression like a sly merchant: “Don’t be quick to feel touched. You have to work for me. The payment must be earned through labor. Earning it yourself makes using it feel justified, right?”

Xu Xianghe naturally wanted to help but shrugged helplessly, not knowing how exactly to assist.

Chu Chaoyun understood clearly: secrets can never be kept. The best way to trust Xu Xianghe was to bring her inside.

Last time, seeing Xu Xianghe’s excellent swimming skills, she already had this idea. That’s why when discussing this with Mrs. Diao, she hadn’t been too cautious.

Chu Chaoyun might not be a saint, but she wasn’t malicious.

The rest could be talked about slowly later; there was no hurry now. Chu Chaoyun pulled Xu Xianghe to each return to their own rooms, but Mrs. Diao called out to them, “Don’t rush off; the three of us daughters should split up these dumplings.”

Chu Chaoyun and Xu Xianghe were roughly the same age, indeed old enough to be Mrs. Diao’s daughters. Being called so intimately by Mrs. Diao made Chu Chaoyun’s nose tingle with emotion, nearly bringing her to tears.

The original owner who had a mother protecting her must have once been happy.

The three shared and ate the dumplings amidst laughter and talk. Chu Chaoyun quickly returned to her compartment to lie down. The wood stove warmed her body a bit but could only last so long.

Especially since her light sweat hadn’t dried yet, the cold wind blowing again made it truly hurt yet feel somewhat pleasurable…

The afternoon’s work was somewhat varied. Chu Chaoyun mended a batch of clothes temporarily, and then received a task to sew cotton clothes for several supervisors and foremen under Big Zhao.

The cotton clothes needed were not many, as the supervisors and foremen were only a few.

Some boatwomen looked pale, their eyes red with anger but dared not utter a word.

Chu Chaoyun wasn’t comfortable either; those bastards didn’t treat them like people, yet she knew it was important to eat well and stay warm.

Chu Chaoyun had asked Mrs. Diao, who said some boatwomen who had been doing this for years had also endured hardships when they first arrived. Only after saving enough from their monthly pay did they ask her to bring some things ashore—gradually accumulating their “property.”

Fortunately, winter in Ruizhou wasn’t as cold as in the north; even the river surface didn’t freeze.

But those boatwomen who had endured all that had bodies in terrible shape, hard to heal later.

Chu Chaoyun had once been a corporate slave, staying up late and working overtime, suffering various ailments. She understood these feelings deeply.

Because of this, she tried not to mistreat herself.

Chu Chaoyun calculated the supplies needed for winter and sighed in her heart; there were really many things missing—the situation was indeed urgent.

She held needle and thread, making gestures, really not knowing how to make cotton clothes. Some who had just arrived were as lost as she was. Manager Zhong arranged for some experienced boatwomen to guide them.

Mrs. Diao naturally helped her and Xu Xianghe; Manager Zhong raised his chin, tacitly agreeing, and didn’t assign more people to their group.

Chu Chaoyun studied seriously and quickly could handle tasks herself. At first, she harbored a little plan, intending to sneak some cotton. The supervisors and some foremen used top-quality cotton, whose price was probably beyond their imagination.

But precisely for this reason, the managers watched particularly closely.

Manager Zhong, Old Lady Li, and Big Zhao all came, each overseeing a few boatwomen. Chu Chaoyun couldn’t keep even a scrap of cotton.

After a long afternoon of work that left her waist and back sore, unfinished fabric and cotton were collected by the managers. They were told to continue the next day, then dismissed.

Xu Xianghe followed Manager Zhong to a small boat for assessment, while Chu Chaoyun returned first with Mrs. Diao.

Chu Chaoyun had wanted to rest, but she still had to stuff reeds into the bedsheets. If she waited till dark, working at night would strain her eyes.

Mrs. Diao also had this matter in mind and came to help without much rest.

Chu Chaoyun stretched the sheet’s edge and stuffed handfuls of reeds inside. After evenly filling it, she picked up needle and thread and sewed slowly.

“This few days have really been exhausting; tonight we must have something good to eat!”

She suddenly wailed.

The dumplings Mrs. Diao brought were actually mediocre to eat; one reason was that they were too cold, another that the filling didn’t suit her taste.

Chu Chaoyun didn’t like radish and tofu, and Liu Xincai had only added a little salt to the filling. Compared to the cook girl’s homemade seasonings, it was not just slightly but noticeably inferior.

Recalling that little jar of seasoning, Chu Chaoyun was puzzled.

She had been to the kitchen several days in a row and observed carefully. The Great Qi dynasty seemed not to have chili peppers, but that seasoning tasted spicy. She didn’t know much about ancient life and couldn’t think what could substitute for chili.

She racked her brains and finally thought of Sichuan pepper, prickly ash, black pepper, or mustard.

She had eaten all these; could only say the cook girl’s homemade powder had a faint peppery taste. But the black pepper and the spicy flavor she tasted were quite different.

While talking, Chu Chaoyun had finished sewing the edges.

Mrs. Diao stood up and rubbed her waist a few times, smiling: “There really isn’t much edible in Ruizhou’s river; where else could there be something delicious?”

Chu Chaoyun nodded, pretending to ponder without replying.

…

Night was the busiest time for the Flower Boat’s business. Under Manager Zhong were several old women similar to Big Zhao’s foremen. They all took orders directly from the managers, only doing different tasks.

Manager Zhong’s women, besides assigning work to the boatwomen, were responsible for serving tea and dishes to the guests.

When they became busy, it was just when the boatwomen were most relaxed. Chu Chaoyun came out from the back storage to use the toilet, but before entering, was grabbed by one of the old women.

“You, take this jug of wine to Madam Hui’s room on the third floor.”

The old woman dropped the wine jug into her arms and rushed past, clutching her belly and groaning as she went in.

Chu Chaoyun: “…”

The old woman kept going “ouch” nonstop inside, seeming unlikely to come out soon. Chu Chaoyun was not too anxious, so she just carried the jug toward the wooden stairs.

She kept her head down, taking small steps, occasionally stealing a glance at the direction of the private rooms, but otherwise not paying attention.

When reaching the second floor, she noticed some guests arguing in one of the inner private rooms. In the other rooms, music and mingling voices blended. Chu Chaoyun couldn’t hear their conversation clearly but saw Manager Zhong giving smiles to the guests.

Chu Chaoyun was surprised; it was her first time seeing Manager Zhong smile.

Though forced, his demeanor appeared much gentler.

Chu Chaoyun didn’t dare to stay and withdrew her gaze, continuing upstairs.

Before reaching the third floor, she heard a woman crying softly, seemingly suppressing her sobs. The sound was muffled, likely because she tightly covered her mouth.

This was the room she was headed to.

She had wanted to take a glance at who was crying, but the other side might have heard her footsteps, as the crying immediately stopped.

Madam Hui was also one of the private room girls, but Chu Chaoyun had no impression of her.

Not wanting to tarnish the guests’ ears and eyes with her ragged clothes, Chu Chaoyun lightly cleared her throat when near the door. Madam Hui quickly opened the door and looked at her, slightly stunned.

Chu Chaoyun didn’t explain, just handed over the tray without a word.

Madam Hui softly said, “Thank you, girl,” then gently closed the door.

Amidst bursts of music and laughter from the toasting and drinking, Chu Chaoyun went down the wooden stairs and back into the stinky, cramped storage room.

She felt many emotions then. Though the girls’ quarters were fragrant, warm, and lively, each had their own sorrows.

After sighing, she crawled into her blanket to rest a little.

Unconsciously, Chu Chaoyun actually fell asleep in the warm quilt, until she heard a gentle knock on the door and Xu Xianghe calling her. She abruptly sat up.

Opening the door to see Xu Xianghe, Chu Chaoyun whispered, “What time is it now?”

“Midnight,” replied Xu Xianghe.

Xu Xianghe had guessed that Chu Chaoyun might have fallen asleep, but thinking that dinner hadn’t been eaten and that work would start early tomorrow, she feared Chu Chaoyun couldn’t hold out, so she came to knock.

Chu Chaoyun motioned her to come in, first asked if she had passed the assessment, then pulled out the simple net bag she had made from under the bed board.

Xu Xianghe smiled with relief: “Yes, it went quite smoothly.”

Seeing the rudimentary fishing net, she asked in puzzlement, “Are we going to catch shad fish?”

Chu Chaoyun blinked and lowered her voice mysteriously: “No, today we’ll catch something else.”

Xu Xianghe didn’t understand what Chu Chaoyun was thinking but just followed along.

Chu Chaoyun stuck her head out from the wooden ladder, avoiding the guards near the dock and detouring to the other side. She pointed to the boarding ladder fixed to the ship’s side: “We’ll go down from here, swim toward the mooring point over there, follow me, and don’t make any noise.”

Xu Xianghe nodded cautiously, and the two entered the water one after the other, enduring the cold.

Arriving in the shallow water area, they stood barefoot on the muddy bottom, their bodies gradually steadying.

Above this spot was a railing, connected to an earthen bastion forming an arch shape, quite far above, forming a hiding place. Chu Chaoyun was familiar with this spot, always coming here to fish.

She held the net and asked Xu Xianghe if she knew how to use it. When Xu Xianghe shook her head, Chu Chaoyun whispered, “I’ll demonstrate; later you use this net to scoop into the grass. If you catch fish or anything else, just release it.”

As she spoke, she scooped once.

Actually, she wasn’t sure if she would catch anything, but a glance inside showed they were quite lucky today.

Chu Chaoyun lifted the small creatures in the net before Xu Xianghe, shook it gently, smiling with curved eyes: “See, today this is what we want!”