Meng Xizhao quickly made his way to the woodshed.
Burglaries weren’t usually something worth making a fuss over, but happening at such a critical time, it made him both worried and angry.
He hated being slowed down more than anything.
Following Jin Zhu, he reached the woodshed door. Four armed men stood guard. He had no idea how Zhan Buxiu trained them, but somehow, they all had that same fierce glare, never showing a hint of a smile even when seeing the master.
…Well, as long as they could defend the estate, who cared whether they smiled?
Seeing Meng Xizhao, the four stepped aside and opened the shed door.
Meng Xizhao had expected a scrawny, panicked thief in the corner—but stepping over the threshold, he saw only a middle-aged man, tightly bound at the wrists and sitting dejectedly in the corner.
The man had a long beard, a plump build, and a face that, while not handsome, looked honest. His clothes weren’t tattered nor the formal attire of a high-ranking servant—just ordinary jacket and trousers, indistinguishable from any commoner outside the city walls.
He looked thoroughly defeated, his hands tied behind him. Hearing the door open, he lifted his head to glance at Meng Xizhao, sighed, and lowered it again.
Meng Xizhao: “…You’re surprisingly calm.”
He ignored whether the man could hear him and asked Jin Zhu, “Did he make it into the inner courtyard?”
Jin Zhu shook her head. “No. He sneaked past the first gate and was caught by the guards.”
Meng Xizhao hummed. “So what was he trying to steal?”
The man opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by a sharp voice: “I’m not a thief! I didn’t come to steal your stuff!”
Meng Xizhao looked down at the speaker. “Not a thief? Then why sneak around my manor? Didn’t come to steal, huh? Planning to kidnap someone instead?”
The middle-aged man: “…………”
Now he was angrier. “I am a prized disciple under Master Hu, the alchemist of the Lingshu Sect, skilled in the Huangqi techniques! How could I possibly covet your little trinkets?”
Meng Xizhao paused.
He turned to Jin Zhu and whispered, “Master Hu… is he some famous martial hero?”
Jin Zhu: “……”
The man: “……”
He looked stunned, as if Meng Xizhao were an alien. “You don’t even know Master Hu? Hu Gongshen! Master Hu! Countless effective remedies come from him! His disciples are renowned physicians; some even serve as imperial doctors. You don’t know this?”
Meng Xizhao understood. “Oh, so he’s basically a doctor.”
The man: “……”
He was about to explode from anger.
Couldn’t blame Meng Xizhao—having read too many martial arts novels, he had assumed the title meant some wandering swordsman. Luckily, he wasn’t—if martial heroes existed in this world, he’d have to constantly guard against anonymous vigilantes swooping in to end his life.
Meng Xizhao, still puzzled, asked, “Then what does the Lingshu Sect mean? You doctors have sects?”
The middle-aged man stared at him for a long while before finally saying, “Are you stupid?”
Meng Xizhao: “…………”
Now he was getting personal!
Jin Zhu, hearing this, wasn’t pleased. “Stop speaking nonsense! Our sir just lacks common knowledge!”
Meng Xizhao: You’re not much better, okay?!
Irritated, he pulled Jin Zhu aside, stepped in front of the man, and began lecturing with authority: “Just because you Lingshu people are foolish doesn’t mean I am! Do you know who I am? Sneaking into my estate like this—anyone hearing about it would think you’re the fool, not me!”
At that moment, Jin Zhu returned and whispered into his ear, “Sir, doctors in the civilian world are divided into four sects, each with its own lineage and treatment style. The Lingshu Sect is the foremost of the four, roughly equivalent to the Imperial Academy…”
She spoke so quickly that by the time Meng Xizhao finished listening, the middle-aged man was exclaiming indignantly, “I’ve told you a hundred times! I’m not here to steal! I just wanted to see if there were secret experiments in this manor!”
Meng Xizhao’s eyes lit up. “Oh?”
He studied the man curiously. Standing was tiring, so he squatted down to meet his gaze. “How do you know my manor is hiding secrets?”
The man: “……”
Meng Xizhao asked again, “And why do you think that my manor, being secretive, is brewing new medicines?”
The man: “……”
Squinting, Meng Xizhao added, “Also, when I said I was an official, you didn’t react. You seem to know who I am?”
The man’s eyes darted away, and he lowered his head, refusing to respond.
Jin Zhu, seeing how stubborn he was, suggested, “Sir, maybe hit him once, see if he’ll talk.”
Meng Xizhao waved his hand. “Too much trouble. Go fetch a chair for me.”
Jin Zhu froze for a moment, but she immediately did as she was told.
After bringing the chair over, Meng Xizhao sat down, watching the middle‑aged man with a faint smile playing at the corner of his lips.
He kept examining him, his smile slowly deepening. The middle‑aged man cautiously lifted his head, only to be startled by the expression on Meng Xizhao’s face.
“…Why are you looking at me like that?” the man asked.
Meng Xizhao rested his chin on his hand and made a thoughtful sound. “It’s my first time seeing a medicine fanatic, so I looked a little longer. My apologies—please forgive me.”
The middle‑aged man said stiffly, “…I am not a medicine fanatic.”
Meng Xizhao replied, “Then why did you sneak into my estate? You only suspected there might be new medicine here, yet you still came running. If you were certain there was new medicine, you’d probably gallop here on horseback.”
The man choked on his words. He angrily turned his head away and refused to speak.
Meng Xizhao glanced at him and smiled. “But your guess was actually correct. There really is new medicine here.”
In an instant, the man’s head snapped toward him like a sunflower turning to the sun. His face was full of excitement and certainty, practically spelling out the words I knew it.
Clearly he desperately wanted to know what the new medicine was. But he also knew that in his current situation, even if he asked, Meng Xizhao would not answer—and might even humiliate him.
So he pressed his lips together, suppressing the urge to question him, and merely stared at Meng Xizhao.
Meng Xizhao, however, looked like a scheming old farmer, wearing a bright smile while holding an imaginary fishing rod baited with a carrot.
“You want to know? I can tell you.”
The man did not move, but the flash of light in his eyes completely betrayed him.
Seeing that spark, the smile at Meng Xizhao’s lips instantly vanished. His expression changed so quickly that even a Sichuan opera performer might feel ashamed.
“But I would never reveal such secrets to a sneaky little villain! Who knows if you’re a spy sent by the Xiongnu? Hmph. Just stay here. When I return from the Xiongnu, I’ll have you sent to the Imperial City Bureau!”
With that, Meng Xizhao flicked his sleeve and strode out briskly.
The utterly bewildered middle‑aged man: “……”
Wait—wait a second?!
After leaving the woodshed, Meng Xizhao stood by the wall nearby. When he noticed that Jin Zhu had not followed him out, he knew she had understood the signal in his eyes and was probably already playing the “good cop.”
As expected of Jin Zhu, who earned five thousand taels a year—her perceptiveness truly was unmatched.
After thinking this with satisfaction, Meng Xizhao turned to Qingfu, who had followed him out without a word.
When Qingfu saw him look over, he cheerfully leaned closer. “Sir, you were really imposing just now.”
Meng Xizhao looked at him, his expression suddenly turning affectionate. “Qingfu, how much silver do you receive from the household each month?”
Qingfu answered happily, “Twenty taels! Madam treats us servants very well!”
Meng Xizhao frowned slightly, but eventually smiled again. “Never mind. Let’s just treat the extra as your pocket money.”
Qingfu blinked. “Huh?”
What did that mean?
Meng Xizhao went alone into the inner courtyard to inspect each group’s progress.
The first group was researching trebuchets. However, they could not achieve what Meng Xizhao required—both a long‑range machine capable of launching light objects and a short‑range one capable of hurling heavy objects. The materials simply would not allow it. Wood could not bear too much weight, while iron parts were extremely difficult to assemble.
The second group was researching hand crossbows. At this moment they had not even managed to produce a proper spring yet. Though things looked hopeless, they had not been entirely unproductive. By accident, they had developed several alloys and actually improved the material used for sabers—making them lighter, sharper, and less prone to chipping.
Toward both groups, Meng Xizhao took the same approach—combining authority with encouragement. One stick followed by two sweet dates, urging them to keep working hard.
As for the third group, ever since black powder had been successfully produced, their workshop had been the most energetic of all. When they saw Meng Xizhao arrive, they looked as if they had seen their own father.
“Lord Meng! What brings you here today? Quick, quick—bring a stool for Lord Meng!”
Meng Xizhao felt the heat inside and did not step in, instead standing just outside the door. “How is it? The land mines and hand grenades I mentioned last time—have you developed them?”
The members of the third group immediately looked uneasy. “Well… about that…”
Meng Xizhao sighed. “…Just say it. Stop hesitating.”
Only then did the group leader admit shamefully, “As for the land mines, we are still studying their usage. When the powder is buried too shallow, sometimes it explodes even when nothing steps on it. But when it is buried too deep, nothing happens at all. The proportions and depth… we are still experimenting.”
Meng Xizhao’s brows immediately knotted together. Still, there was no use urging them—he knew they were truly doing their best.
“All right. I’ll give you a bit more time. What about the grenades? Don’t tell me you haven’t figured those out either.”
Meng Xizhao was no professional, but he understood a little. Black powder was unstable by nature; making grenades from it should actually be quite simple. Just wrap it up and throw it—wouldn’t that work?
The group leader smiled. “We have already developed three versions of the grenade. We simply have not tested them enough yet, so we did not report to you. Look here, Lord Meng. The first version is wrapped in cowhide. We packed a large amount of black powder inside. We tested it three times—each time it blasted a huge crater in the ground. The power is tremendous.”
Meng Xizhao looked at them and did not take the bait immediately. “And the drawback?”
The leader hesitated. “The drawback is… it cannot be moved around normally. It must be handled very gently. If you throw it, you must find someone with exceptional arm strength. Otherwise… it might explode on the thrower instead.”
Meng Xizhao: “…………”
He rubbed his forehead. “What about the second one?”
The leader pointed to a red sphere nearby. “This one is made from thick iron hammered into a hollow ball. We left a hole to insert the powder. We have tested it five times. Its power is not as great as the cowhide grenade. We suspect the thick iron shell is too strong and reduces the explosive force.”
Jin Zhu was taken aback for a moment, but she immediately did as she was told.
After bringing over the chair, Meng Xizhao sat down, looking at the middle-aged man with a faint smile hanging at the corner of his lips.
He kept studying the man, the smile on his face gradually deepening. The middle-aged man cautiously raised his head, only to be startled by that expression.
The middle-aged man said, “…Why are you looking at me like that?”
Resting his chin on his hand, Meng Xizhao hummed thoughtfully. “It’s my first time seeing a medicine fanatic. I stared a little longer. My apologies, please forgive me.”
The middle-aged man said, “…I am not a medicine fanatic.”
Meng Xizhao replied, “Then why did you sneak into my estate? Just because you guessed I might have new medicine here, you came running over. If you were certain there was new medicine here, you probably would have galloped here on horseback.”
The middle-aged man choked on his words. Angrily, he turned his head away and refused to speak.
Meng Xizhao glanced at him and smiled. “But your guess was actually right. I really do have new medicine here.”
In an instant, the middle-aged man’s head turned toward Meng Xizhao like a sunflower snapping toward the sun. His face was full of excitement and certainty, practically shouting, I knew it.
Clearly, he desperately wanted to know what that new medicine was. But he also understood his current situation—if he asked, Meng Xizhao would not answer him, and might even ridicule him. So he pressed his lips tightly together, restraining the urge to ask, and simply stared at Meng Xizhao.
Meng Xizhao, however, looked like a scheming old farmer, wearing a bright smile while holding a fishing rod with a carrot dangling from it.
“You want to know? I can tell you.”
The middle-aged man did not move, but the flash of light that burst into his eyes betrayed him completely.
Seeing that spark, the upturned corners of Meng Xizhao’s mouth suddenly dropped. The speed at which his expression changed would have made even a Sichuan opera performer ashamed.
“But I will never reveal such secrets to a sneaky little villain who hides things! Who knows if you’re a spy sent by the Xiongnu. Hmph. Just stay here. When I return from the Xiongnu, I’ll send you straight to the Imperial City Bureau!”
With that, Meng Xizhao flicked his sleeve and strode out decisively.
The utterly bewildered middle-aged man: “…”
Wait. Wait a minute?!
After leaving the woodshed, Meng Xizhao stood beneath the wall nearby. When he did not see Jin Zhu follow him out, he knew she had already understood his signal and had likely begun playing the “good cop.”
As expected of Jin Zhu, who earned five thousand taels a year. Just look at that perceptiveness—truly unmatched.
After sighing in admiration, Meng Xizhao turned to Qingfu, who had followed him out without hesitation. When Qingfu saw him looking over, he grinned and stepped closer.
“Master, you were really imposing just now.”
Meng Xizhao looked at him, his expression turning almost affectionate. “Qingfu, how much silver do you receive from the estate each month?”
Qingfu answered cheerfully, “Twenty taels! Madam treats us servants so well!”
Meng Xizhao frowned slightly, but eventually smiled again. “Never mind. I’ll just consider the extra as your pocket money.”
Qingfu blinked. “Huh?”
What did that mean?
Meng Xizhao went alone to the inner courtyard to inspect the progress of each research group.
The first group was working on trebuchets. However, they could not meet Meng Xizhao’s requirements: developing both a long-range trebuchet capable of launching light objects and a short-range one capable of launching heavy objects. The materials simply would not cooperate. Wood could not bear enough weight, while iron components were extremely difficult to assemble.
The second group was researching hand crossbows. At the moment, they had not even succeeded in producing a spring yet. Although things looked bleak, they were not entirely without results. They had created several types of alloys and, quite by accident, improved the material used for hand blades. The blades were now lighter, sharper, and less prone to chipping.
Meng Xizhao treated both groups the same way—balancing reward and punishment. One stick, two carrots. He urged them to keep working hard.
As for the third group, after successfully developing black powder, their atmosphere was the most energetic of all. When they saw Meng Xizhao arrive, they practically looked at him as if he were their own father.
“Lord Meng! What brings you here today? Quick, bring a stool for Lord Meng!”
Meng Xizhao found it too hot inside and stayed near the doorway instead of entering. “So? The land mines and hand grenades I mentioned last time—have you developed them yet?”
The members of the third group immediately looked uneasy. “Well… about that…”
Meng Xizhao said, “…Just say it. Stop hesitating.”
The group leader finally spoke with embarrassment. “As for the land mine… we’re still researching the method. If we bury the black powder too shallowly, it sometimes explodes even when nothing steps on it. If we bury it too deep, nothing happens. The proportions and depth… we are still experimenting.”
Meng Xizhao’s brows instantly knotted together. But there was no point pushing them—he knew they were genuinely trying their best.
“Fine. I’ll give you more time. What about the hand grenades? Don’t tell me you haven’t figured that out either.”
Although Meng Xizhao was not a professional, he understood a little. Black powder was already unstable by nature, which actually made it easier to turn into a grenade. As long as it was wrapped up and thrown, that should do the trick.
The group leader brightened. “We’ve developed three versions of the grenade. We just haven’t tested them many times yet, so we hadn’t reported them to you. Come, Lord Meng, take a look. The first type is wrapped in cowhide. We packed a lot of black powder inside. We tested it three times, and each time it blew a huge crater in the ground. The power is tremendous.”
Meng Xizhao looked at them but did not fall for it immediately. “What’s the drawback?”
The leader stammered, “The drawback is… it can’t really be moved around normally. It must be handled very carefully. If you throw it, you’d better find someone with extremely strong arms, otherwise… it might explode and injure the thrower.”
Meng Xizhao: “…………”
He rubbed his forehead. “What about the second type?”
The leader pointed to a large red sphere nearby. “This one is a hollow ball hammered out of thick iron, with a hole left for filling the powder. We tested it five times. Its power isn’t as great as the cowhide grenade. We suspect the thick iron shell is too hard, which reduces the explosive force.”
Meng Xizhao looked at the big red ball with admiration. It was starting to resemble a cannonball.
Truly, skilled craftsmen were remarkable. Give them a starting point, and they could create all kinds of additional inventions.
He asked, “Is this one unstable like the cowhide version?”
The leader shook his head. “Of course not. But it has a small drawback.”
Meng Xizhao sighed. “…What drawback?”
The leader laughed awkwardly, looking guilty. “To throw it properly, you need someone extremely strong who can hurl it with great force… preferably very far away. Otherwise, it may still explode close enough to injure the thrower.”
Meng Xizhao was speechless. “What about the third one?! If the third one is the same, then you… I’m taking you with me to the Xiongnu!”
The leader: “…………”
No, please!!!
Wiping cold sweat from his forehead, he hurriedly led Meng Xizhao to the final version. In order to convince him not to take him on a trip to the Xiongnu, he desperately praised the third design.
“My lord, don’t be fooled by how it looks like a firecracker. Its power is the same as the cowhide grenade! Because it uses a paper tube, it’s much lighter than the iron one. Just light the fuse and quickly throw it—everything will be fine. We tested it five times, and every time it exploded successfully!”
Meng Xizhao picked up the paper-tube grenade with an inscrutable expression.
Why did this look so familiar…
Two seconds later, realization struck him.
Wasn’t this basically a firecracker you throw on the ground?
Meng Xizhao blinked, but his first instinct was still to ask, “And what’s the drawback of this one?”
The leader was drenched in sweat as he replied, “The drawback is that it’s made of paper, so it’s vulnerable to moisture. It’s best to make it and throw it immediately.”
Meng Xizhao: “…”
Seeing the speechless look on Meng Xizhao’s face, the leader felt like he was about to cry.
But he did not actually need to worry that much.
Because Meng Xizhao felt the design was acceptable.
Yingtian Prefecture was located in the south and currently in the rainy season, naturally humid. The Xiongnu territory, however, lay far in the northern frontier. Even when it snowed there, the air remained dry.
Besides, Meng Xizhao had never planned to transport an entire cart of volatile explosives without bringing along a few specialists to supervise them. If something went wrong with the powder deep inside Xiongnu territory, who would he cry to then?
So the craftsmen were going with him anyway. In that case, this drawback was not particularly serious.
Seeing the leader trembling with anxiety, Meng Xizhao smiled kindly.
“This one is good. I like the third type. Don’t worry—I was only joking earlier. How could I really take you to the Xiongnu? You are the great contributor who developed the gunpowder. Even if I take anyone, I cannot take you. You must stay here and continue developing other inventions for me.”
The leader: “…”
Even though he felt relieved, he still had the strange sensation that darkness was closing in on him.
At that moment, Meng Xizhao suddenly slung an arm around his shoulders like a close brother and asked with a smile, “You craftsmen all eat and live together, right?”
The leader froze. Although he did not understand why Meng Xizhao was asking this, he nodded.
Meng Xizhao drew out a long “Oh,” then pointed at the paper-tube grenade.
“Who among you knows how to make this?”
The leader cautiously answered, “My lord… we all do.”
After all, there was not much technique involved. Roll it up, light the fuse, throw it.
Meng Xizhao seemed even more satisfied.
“Then among you people… who knows how to cook?”
The leader instinctively opened his mouth to answer. But halfway through, he suddenly realized what Meng Xizhao had just asked.
Leader: …???
Was there something wrong with his ears?
The average age of the third group was forty-two. None of them were young anymore. A few knew how to cook, but none were particularly good at it—just barely edible.
After examining them with a picky eye, Meng Xizhao finally selected two people.
One of them had grown up helping in his family’s meat-pie shop and was excellent at mincing meat into extremely fine pieces.
The other had married a wife who insisted on “participation.” Every time she cooked, he had to stand beside her peeling scallions and garlic. Now he could peel them so cleanly that not a single bit of skin remained.
When these two men were taken away by Meng Xizhao, both wore blank expressions.
Never in their wildest dreams had they imagined that their skill at chopping meat and peeling scallions would earn them the honor of being chosen by a nobleman—and sent together with him to the Xiongnu, a place where survival was uncertain.
The two men looked at each other, both feeling the urge to burst into tears.
Meng Xizhao did not care what they were thinking. After instructing Qingfu to arrange lodging for them at the administrative office, he turned and headed toward the front courtyard.
Jin Zhu appeared to have been waiting for him there for some time.
When she saw him, she bowed slightly. “Master.”
Meng Xizhao asked, “Did you find out?”
Jin Zhu smiled. “As soon as you left, he panicked. I said a few kind words, and he told me his entire background.”
Meng Xizhao asked curiously, “So who exactly is he?”
Jin Zhu repeated everything the middle-aged man had told her.
When she finished, Meng Xizhao was stunned.
That man was actually the physician who had once given him the mute-inducing drug.
…
According to the middle-aged man himself, his ambitions did not lie in treating patients, but in creating medicines.
After finishing his studies in the Lingshu school, he began traveling everywhere. While searching for herbs, he also earned money to cover the cost of rare medicinal ingredients.
Gradually, he built up a reputation. Later, several nobles took notice of him and brought him into their households.
He did not care where he stayed—as long as he was given enough money and herbs, he was happy to remain anywhere. Over the years, he had served several masters, each wealthier than the last. Consort Lin was merely one of them.
The truth was that this man really was a medicine fanatic. He had almost no sense of right or wrong. And compared to medicines that healed people, he preferred researching poisons that could kill.
It was baffling—no one knew what possible use such drugs could have.
Jin Zhu listened with great alarm, but the wealthy nobles who hired him did not see it that way. Instead, they considered him a rare talent. Most of the people who employed him were women, and more often than not, women whose inner households were far from peaceful.
He had one advantage: once he took the money, he always got the job done.
And so, over the years, his “achievements” in concocting drugs for disfigurement, aphrodisiacs, and miscarriage were far ahead of anyone else’s.
Meng Xizhao: “…………”
After all that, it turned out he was basically a tool for palace intrigue.
Jin Zhu continued, “His name is Teng Kangning. He said that in the beginning he truly was working for Consort Lin, preparing certain medicines to help His Majesty… perform. Later, Prince Ning saw him and learned about his abilities. The prince asked him to create a drug that could turn someone mute. When the drug turned out not to work, Prince Ning flew into a rage and had him beaten until he was barely alive, then had him thrown out to die. But Teng Kangning had already prepared an escape plan. He took anesthetic beforehand so he would not feel the pain. After they threw him out, he quickly treated himself, which is why he can now appear in front of you completely unharmed.”
Meng Xizhao was a little stunned. “Then why did he show up in front of me?”
At this point, even Jin Zhu sounded somewhat speechless. “He said his medicine could not possibly be flawed. Either the eldest young master never took the drug, or you and the eldest young master had already prepared an antidote. He felt that his reputation could not be ruined like this, so he came to investigate what really happened. He followed the eldest young master for a few days, then followed you for a few days. He noticed that your behavior at this estate was somewhat unusual—you kept transporting things inside, yet the people within never came out no matter what. So he concluded that something strange was going on here. He believes that you, like him, are secretly developing medicine.”
Meng Xizhao: “…………”
Well… that really left him at a loss for words.
His feelings were complicated.
This man truly was talented, but Meng Xizhao had no use for palace intrigue. What good would it do to keep him around? Besides, the things this man had done were far too wicked—disfiguring people, causing miscarriages…
Wait.
Miscarriages???
Meng Xizhao suddenly grabbed Jin Zhu by the shoulders. “Do you know how he usually tests his new medicines?”
Jin Zhu blinked. “…I didn’t ask. Should I go ask?”
Meng Xizhao stopped her. “No, no, I’ll ask him myself!”
With that, he rushed off in a hurry.
Jin Zhu: “……”
Her master’s train of thought was becoming harder and harder to keep up with.
After questioning Teng Kangning about his drug-making process, Meng Xizhao nearly wanted to throw his head back and laugh three times.
What did it mean when someone handed you a pillow just as you were about to fall asleep?
This was exactly that.
He immediately waved his hand, intending to bundle Teng Kangning together with the two craftsmen and send them back to the administrative office.
Teng Kangning’s eyes widened, and he suddenly resisted.
Only then did Meng Xizhao remember that the man was technically still being treated as a prisoner here. Teng Kangning probably thought he was about to be taken away for torture.
Meng Xizhao quickly put on the expression of a nobleman who valued talent and said to him, “Don’t you just want money? I’ll give it to you. I’ll give you as much as you want. Whatever materials you need for making medicine in the future, I’ll provide them too.”
“All you have to do is come with me to the Xiongnu.”
Teng Kangning: “……”
He looked at Meng Xizhao suspiciously.
This man would not be expecting him to go alone and poison every single Xiongnu person, would he?
But even if he asked, Meng Xizhao would not tell him the truth. He simply told him to relax and follow along.
Teng Kangning grumbled inwardly and even considered running away. But after hesitating again and again, he ultimately did not flee.
After all, he still wanted to find out the secret of Meng Xizhao’s new medicine.
Everything was ready except for departure.
The luggage and personnel were all prepared. Officials like Meng Xizhao were allowed to bring one servant along the journey to attend them.
Qingfu had originally assumed Meng Xizhao would bring him.
But instead, Meng Xizhao took one of the craftsmen as his personal attendant. At the same time, he submitted Teng Kangning’s name as well, shamelessly declaring that he was not used to being served by only one person and absolutely had to bring two.
Moreover, he said he did not trust the physicians traveling with the party and insisted on bringing the estate’s own doctor from the administrative office.
The Vice Minister of Rites looked at Meng Xizhao and felt an overwhelming urge to smash a paperweight over his head.
Do you think you’re a princess?!
As a member of the bridal escort, your job is to serve the princess properly. And yet you want others to serve you instead? Dream on!
Of course, that was what he thought in his heart.
What came out of his mouth was completely different.
“Very well, very well. It’s just bringing along an additional physician. Such a small matter—of course I can approve it.”
…
Meng Xizhao left in satisfaction. But the moment he turned his back, the Vice Minister of Rites exaggerated the story and told it to the other officials.
After hearing about Meng Xizhao’s spoiled and frivolous behavior, they all began criticizing him.
Naturally, they only dared to complain behind his back. No one had the nerve to say it to his face.
Thus, even before the journey began, Meng Xizhao’s reputation as a reckless playboy had already spread throughout the bridal escort.
Those listed on the escort roster were in despair.
Counting the princess, her attendants, and the escort personnel, the entire group numbered nearly five hundred people. Among the officials, aside from the Director of the Ministry of Rites, Meng Xizhao held the highest rank.
And from the look of him, he was exactly the type to delegate everything and do nothing himself. He might even treat the entire escort mission like a sightseeing trip to admire the northern scenery.
If that happened, would not all the work fall on everyone else?
If he simply refused to work, that would still be tolerable. But judging from his behavior, it seemed entirely possible that he would treat the entire escort party like his own administrative office—ordering people around and tormenting them at will.
Waaah… such terrible luck. How had they ended up with such a miserable assignment?
But crying was useless. At this point, how could they possibly back out?
On the twelfth day of the ninth month, Emperor Tianshou’s thirty-eighth birthday arrived.
At the Longevity Celebration, ruler and ministers rejoiced together. Emperor Tianshou sat upon the dragon throne, welcoming the day he loved most each year.
Meng Xizhao stood at the very end of the line, watching Emperor Tianshou grin from ear to ear as he sat there receiving gifts.
He could not help twitching the corner of his mouth.
In previous years, the administrative office only needed to prepare one gift. But this year they prepared two.
The heavier gift was to be presented by Meng Jiuyu, while the lighter one would be presented by Meng Xizhao.
Yet even the “lighter” gift was a dragon-shaped ornament assembled from enormous pearls of identical size. A single pearl alone was worth half a year of Jin Zhu’s salary.
Holding the ornament, Meng Xizhao felt heartache beyond words.
Although it had all been prepared by Madam Meng—and when she took the ornament out she did not even blink—Meng Xizhao still felt pained.
Mostly because it was such a waste.
Even if he gave Emperor Tianshou a single sheet of toilet paper, he would still feel it was wasted.
In the past, when he gave gifts, it had always been “good steel used on the blade’s edge,” because he knew Emperor Tianshou would remember it and would reward him with what he wanted. But today, no matter what Meng Xizhao presented, the emperor would not remember it. There were simply too many gifts, and too many fine ones among them.
Today was a big day for Emperor Tianshou, but it was also a big day for Qin Feimang. He had to stand at the front and announce each gift by name one after another. By the time the birthday banquet ended, his throat would probably be smoking.
Although the court officials all dressed similarly when attending court—making them seem as though they had little money—the truth was that their family fortunes were incredibly solid. The ornament Meng Xizhao was holding counted only as a middle-tier gift among them, hardly eye-catching at all.
If anyone had brought the best gift, it was undoubtedly the Commissioner of the Three Offices.
Six guards carried his present forward together. It turned out to be a jade mountain. The jade was warm and translucent—top-grade mutton-fat jade. The mountain stood about the height of a person and two feet thick, carved in the shape of Mount Tai.
Trees and flowers decorated the surface, along with stone stairways and small figures. Walking along the steps was Emperor Tianshou himself, while behind him trailed somewhat crudely carved civil and military officials.
Anyone with a bit of education could tell immediately what it represented.
The Fengshan Sacrifice at Mount Tai.
Since ancient times, which emperor had not dreamed of performing it? It was the highest honor among emperors, proof of an emperor’s ability—evidence that he could rival even Qin Shi Huang.
Meng Xizhao: “……”
Expressionless, he raised his head and looked toward Emperor Tianshou at the very top.
Sure enough, just as everyone had expected, the emperor was already clapping repeatedly and shouting his approval.
…
“Good,” my foot.
Do you really think you deserve a Fengshan ceremony at Mount Tai?
I know you lack self-awareness, but surely you cannot lack it this badly!
Seeing that the emperor liked his gift, the Commissioner of the Three Offices looked overjoyed. He even seized the moment to request an imperial decree.
“Your Majesty, this humble servant dares to ask for a decree. Why not construct a Shrine of Imperial Grace atop Mount Tai? In the future, the common people could climb the mountain to reflect upon Your Majesty’s benevolence and spread your glorious name. It would also display your great achievements. And when Your Majesty personally visits one day, there would be a place for you to rest.”
After hearing this, Emperor Tianshou waved his hand and immediately approved.
“Good. Su Ming, I leave this matter to you. Make sure it is done well.”
When I personally go to Mount Tai for the Fengshan ceremony, I will see how the people worship me!
The Commissioner of the Three Offices immediately knelt and loudly accepted the decree.
Meng Xizhao: “…………”
After ruining Hebei, this man was now going to ruin Shandong.
Shandong was wealthier than Hebei, so he would probably be able to exploit it for quite a while.
Silently lowering his head, Meng Xizhao looked at the ornament he was holding, pretending he had seen and heard nothing at all.
At the Longevity Festival, the Crown Prince happened to be “sick” again and did not appear. Instead, Yu Fulan delivered a calligraphy scroll personally written by the Crown Prince as a birthday greeting.
When Emperor Tianshou saw the characters, the smile on his lips faded slightly. He waved Yu Fulan away, and soon after, his cheerful expression returned.
By the time Meng Xizhao’s arms were nearly numb from holding the ornament, it was finally his turn.
Just as he had predicted, Emperor Tianshou showed no reaction to his gift at all. The emperor simply smiled the same way he always did, said a routine word of reward, and Meng Xizhao stepped aside to continue standing.
An attendant came over and rewarded him with one hundred taels of silver.
Meng Xizhao: “……”
The ornament he had presented was worth at least one hundred thousand taels.
And yet he could only accept the one hundred taels with a face full of gratitude, continuing to hold it respectfully.
Damn it—those one hundred taels felt heavier than the ornament itself.
If there was anything during the Longevity Festival that made Meng Xizhao feel less bored, it was when the Princess of Chu stepped forward.
The celebration was divided into two parts. The first part was held together with ministers, princes, and foreign envoys. The second part would be celebrated with the imperial consorts and the emperor’s daughters.
The Princess of Chu appeared during the first part because she would soon be sent away in marriage. According to protocol, today was her formal farewell.
As soon as Meng Xizhao heard the title “Princess of Chu,” he immediately craned his neck, trying to see what she looked like.
From such a distance her face was difficult to make out clearly, but her voice was easy to hear.
The Princess of Chu performed a full kneeling salute. After standing, she delivered her prepared speech without humility or arrogance—lines such as how she was unfilial for not being able to remain at her father’s side, how she would bring harmony between the Xiongnu and Great Qi through this marriage alliance, and how distance would not sever her loyalty.
Meng Xizhao’s first impression was that the princess had quite a loud voice.
His second impression was that she had impressive breath and strength.
The aesthetic ideals of Great Qi favored delicacy, elegance, and refinement. A woman whose voice was firm and resonant like the princess’s, each word ringing clearly, was not something people admired.
Because if a woman was strong, the man would appear weak. Unless he was someone like Meng Jiuyu who genuinely loved his wife, most men still preferred their wives to speak more softly.
Meng Xizhao suddenly remembered something and turned his head to look at the Left Worthy King seated at the front of the hall.
The Left Worthy King had come today as well and had offered a birthday gift—a piece of animal hide. The hide looked strangely familiar, as though it were the same one the Xiongnu had draped over a wagon when they first arrived.
…
It was embarrassingly shabby.
Did he really have to display his indifference toward Great Qi so openly?
He stood there watching the Princess of Chu as well, though his face showed no obvious expression.
Meng Xizhao found himself uncertain.
A princess like this—would the Xiongnu like her, or would they not?
Strictly speaking, this had nothing to do with Meng Xizhao. But he was extremely curious about the answer, because it would determine whether his guess was correct.
In the original storyline, after the old Chanyu died, the Xiongnu custom dictated that all of his wives would become the property of the new Chanyu—including the princess who had already married into the tribe. However, the new Chanyu accepted all the other women and singled out the Princess of Chu, ordering her to be buried with the dead.
At first, he claimed that the old Chanyu’s death was suspicious and that he could not trust the Princess of Chu. Later, though, he changed his story and said there was no mystery at all—the one who killed his father was the Princess of Chu.
There were two possible explanations for this turn of events.
First, the new Chanyu might simply have been extremely calculating. From the very beginning, he may have intended to invade Great Qi, using the Princess of Chu as a pretext—one planted very deeply. He killed her first and waited for the right moment to act.
But at that time, the situation was not favorable. The Xiongnu still faced threats from the Yuezhi and the Jurchens. If he attacked Great Qi, the Xiongnu might find themselves fighting on two fronts—or even three.
It was only when Zhan Buxiu’s rebel army began to gain fame that he suddenly decided to invade Great Qi. Before that, no one had even known that Zhan Buxiu had rebelled. Unless the new Chanyu knew the storyline as well as Meng Xizhao did, there was no way he could have predicted it.
Second, the old Chanyu’s death might truly have had something to do with the Princess of Chu.
Meng Xizhao could not help blinking as he looked at the graceful, swaying figure of the Princess of Chu walking away.
So which possibility was it?