A family of loyal martyrs, starting with nine wives to continue the family line.

When Hua Jieyu first went to the shipyard, the shipwrights in Quanzhou almost thought that the imperial court had sent a supervisor.

She was dressed in a dark, narrow-sleeved casual outfit, her hair neatly tied up, a short knife at her waist. She stood under the unfinished hull of the new ship, looked up for a long time, and then pointed to a panel joint on the port side near the stern.

"You can hide someone under this board."

The old shipwright in the lead paused for a moment, then looked in the direction she was pointing.

There was indeed a small gap between the deck and the keel, designed for a drainage ditch, but if the ditch were modified, an adult could indeed curl up inside.

"Lady Hua, this is a drainage ditch—"

"I know."

Hua Jieyu withdrew her hand, her tone as calm as if she were discussing what to have for lunch: "The drainage ditch can be moved three inches to the left without affecting its function. But if this position isn't sealed off, it will become a hidden door for people when the ship goes to the open sea."

The old shipwright opened his mouth, wanting to say, "I've been building ships for twenty years and I've never heard of such a saying," but when he met Hua Jieyu's unreadable eyes, he didn't dare.

He didn't know what this woman did before, but he instinctively felt that she saw things differently from normal people.

When a normal person looks at a ship, they look at how fast it goes and how much it can carry.

She was looking at the boat to see where people could hide, where poison could be administered, and where a single stab would sink it.

This matter later reached the capital.

Hua Jieyu receives a letter from Quanzhou Shipyard every three days. Sometimes it's a suggestion for revising the blueprints, sometimes it's a list of materials to be purchased, and sometimes it's a technical problem encountered by the shipwrights.

She opened all the letters and read them one by one.

After reading it, she would divide the letter into two piles.

One stack of things she could recall was material procurement, personnel scheduling, and construction schedule arrangements—things she had managed for several years in the Jinyige intelligence network, which she was very adept at.

The other set of issues required Shang Wanqing's approval: the bending angle of the keel, the riveting method of the new type of ram, and the upper limit of the mast's load-bearing capacity.

She tidied up the second stack and delivered it to Shang Wanqing's courtyard every afternoon.

Shang Wanqing was initially worried.

She took the letters that Hua Jieyu had reviewed and checked them one by one, her brows furrowed so deeply they could trap flies.

She mentally anticipated a hundred possible mistakes Hua Jieyu might make—after all, this woman used to work in intelligence, and had nothing to do with shipbuilding.

But she watched it for three days.

Three days, more than a dozen letters, and not a single major flaw was found.

Hua Jieyu's critiques are not perfect; some of her wording is not professional enough. For example, she wrote "rib spacing" as "skeleton spacing" and "below the waterline" as "water surface".

But every judgment she made was in the right direction. She didn't skimp on necessary expenses, she didn't slack off on deadlines, and she easily rejected unreasonable demands with a single sentence.

On the fourth day, Shang Wanqing finished reading the letters, put down the last one, looked up at Hua Jieyu sitting opposite her drinking tea, and couldn't help but ask a question.

"You really haven't studied shipbuilding?"

Hua Jieyu put down her teacup and thought for a moment.

"I haven't studied it. But I've seen the blueprints for dozens of hidden weapons from the Seven Kill Tower, and the principles are similar."

Shang Wanqing rolled her eyes.

What do you mean by "the principles are similar"? How are hidden weapons and warships similar?

One is the size of a palm, the other is tens of feet long—that's a huge difference!

But she didn't ask any more questions. Because she knew in her heart that the "principle" Hua Jieyu was referring to did not refer to structural mechanics, but rather to the logic of reading blueprints.

Whether it's the mechanism of a hidden weapon or the cabin of a warship, the core issue is—where does the force come from, where does it go, where are the weaknesses, and where will problems occur.

Hua Jieyu has studied hidden weapon blueprints for over a decade, and has long since internalized this logic. It's just a change of medium; the underlying principles remain the same.

Shang Wanqing was unwilling to admit it, but she did breathe a sigh of relief.

With someone overseeing the shipyard, she can focus more on designing new ships.

Huo Qingluan came every afternoon, and the two of them, one watching the attack and the other watching the defense, actually became more and more adept at cooperating.

In late November, an urgent letter arrived in Quanzhou.

Hua Jieyu opened it first. After reading it, she handed the letter to Shang Wanqing without saying a word.

Shang Wanqing took it and glanced at it.

The Polang is ready for its second sea trial and is expected to set sail in early December.

Ke Zhenchuan has already boarded the ship as a staff officer, with secret agents from the Embroidered Uniform Guard accompanying him and recording his movements. The shipwrights are asking: What's the route? Who decides?

After reading it, Shang Wanqing tapped the edge of the letter twice with her fingers.

She closed her eyes, and the South China Sea map that she knew all too well appeared in her mind.

She had looked through the channels, reefs, and ocean currents marked by Ke Zhenchuan countless times over the past month, and they were already etched into her mind.

"The bow of the boat is facing south."

She opened her eyes, her voice hoarse but clear: "If we encounter a group of reefs, we'll go to the east. Ke Zhenchuan has the final say, but the old shipwright Wang Tiezhu must be at the helm."

Hua Jieyu didn't ask why.

Ke Zhenchuan was familiar with the waterways, but he was, after all, a surrendered general, and the ship could not be completely handed over to him.

Wang Tiezhu was an old hand who had followed Shang Wanqing for three years. He was stubborn, highly skilled, and wouldn't be fooled by anyone.

Let Ke Zhenchuan give directions, and let Wang Tiezhu take the helm; one is in charge of the brains, and the other is in charge of the hands, so that they can check and balance each other.

She wrote these words verbatim in her reply and had them sent back to Quanzhou by fast horse that same day.

early december.

Shang Wanqing calculated the date from Hua Jieyu.

She had mentally rehearsed the distance from Quanzhou to the South China Sea, the speed of the Breaking Waves, and the effects of tides and monsoons countless times.

Today is the day the Breaking Waves sets sail.

She stood in the courtyard, facing south.

She was more than six months pregnant, and she walked much slower than before, but she still stood there stubbornly, without moving.

That was the boat she built.

She was involved in every step, from cutting the first keel to hammering in the last rivet.

Even though she couldn't go to the shipyard later because of her pregnancy, she personally calculated every line and every piece of information on the blueprints.

Now it's going out to sea. But she can't be there.

When Liu Jingshuang came to see her, she was still standing there.

"What are you looking at?" Liu Jingshuang asked.

"To see the sea."

Liu Jingshuang glanced in the direction she was looking.

To the south was the palace wall, its gray brick surface covered with withered vines, obscuring everything. Not even a bird could be seen.

She didn't ask any further questions.

He simply placed the bowl of hot soup, which had just been brought from the imperial kitchen, on the stone table, tested the temperature with the back of his hand to make sure it wasn't too hot, and then turned and left.

Shang Wanqing stood in front of the palace wall for a while longer.

The wind blew from the north, pulling the hem of her dress southward.

She placed her hand on her stomach and could feel the little thing inside move slightly, very gently, like a little fish flicking its tail.