Princess Wangshou handed all her jewelry to Wei Xun, but he didn’t take it, saying slowly: “I dare not. These things are clearly imperial creations at first glance. If I took any piece to a gold and silver shop, the owner would immediately report me to the authorities for arrest and torture.”

The princess had thought her idea was good, but who knew she’d hit a wall right from the start. She felt somewhat embarrassed.

Shisan Lang kindly reminded her: “The jewelry needs to be melted down into gold ingots before it can be sold.”

She hesitated slightly: “The value of jewelry lies in the artisan’s ingenuity and craftsmanship. Once melted, it’s just gold.”

Wei Xun clicked his tongue in amazement: “Truly worthy of an imperial princess – listen to those words, ‘just gold.'”

The princess heard the mockery in his tone and became displeased, calling out loudly: “Then go ahead and melt it!”

“Once melted, there’s no way to redeem it. You won’t regret it?”

The young woman thought this was just like her own situation – a broken mirror cannot be made whole, spilled water cannot be recovered. Once she left the palace, there would be no turning back.

She immediately hardened her heart and answered: “No regrets!”

Seeing her determined expression, Wei Xun finally reached out to take the bundle, removing the jewelry pieces one by one. In front of her, he used his dagger to pry off the embedded gems, crystals, pearls and such, leaving only the gold settings.

Then he brought out a palm-sized small furnace and a teapot-sized crucible, placing the gold in the crucible and lighting the furnace. The charcoal in the furnace burned with blue flames that gave off intense heat.

The princess watched Wei Xun’s operation from the side. At first she just felt it was a pity, but later found it interesting. The whole process was like brewing tea, except what was “brewed” was molten gold.

When the gold was completely melted, Wei Xun used tongs to lift the crucible and poured the molten gold directly onto blue bricks. With quick, light touches like a dragonfly on water, the gold formed neat rows and columns of golden beads on the bricks. After an hour, those precious jewelry pieces were nowhere to be seen, transformed into a packet of gold beads and a packet of loose gemstones and pearls.

The princess was still savoring the process when she came to her senses and said disdainfully: “So this is your method of disposing of stolen goods.”

Wei Xun pursed his lips: “Listen to what the princess says – didn’t you personally hand me the jewelry? How did it become disposing of stolen goods?”

“Hmph, now you can take it to exchange for money, right? Remember to buy me a horse – it doesn’t need to be too magnificent, but preferably a Ferghana or Turkic breed. Also convenient traveling clothes, boots must be lambskin, and buy a hat with a veil for sun protection. The face powder and rouge in the markets are probably poor quality, so just buy a block of stone ink for drawing eyebrows…”

With money in prospect, the princess’s tone became more demanding, revealing some of the arrogance from her days of commanding others from above, dictating a long shopping list.

“Yes, yes, yes, good, good, good, alright, alright, alright, Wei understands.”

Wei Xun’s perfunctory attitude was obvious, only paying serious attention when she mentioned items like ‘horn bow and arrow quiver.’

He asked with slight surprise: “You really know how to use a bow?”

The princess was quite proud: “My archery is quite good.”

Wei Xun glanced at her: “Indeed hard to tell – you have no calluses on your hands.”

“Naturally I wear thumb rings and guards to protect my skin. How could I develop calluses?”

Wei Xun asked her for the bow’s dimensions, materials, and weight.

The young woman gave detailed instructions, secretly wondering: How did he know whether I have calluses on my hands?

Not knowing whether he remembered the entire list, after sunset Wei Xun tucked the gold goods into his chest and lazily set off toward the mountain gate.

Shisan Lang cupped his hands and shouted loudly: “Buy some sesame flatbread! Preferably from the old shop in Fuxing Ward! Remember to add lots of sesame!”

The princess rolled her eyes at him. In the blink of an eye, when she looked back, Wei Xun had already vanished without a trace.

This night passed very anxiously. She feared both that Wei Xun would be caught trying to enter with the treasure, and that he might take the money and never return, leaving her truly penniless with no choice but to wait for death in the desolate temple.

The next morning, Wei Xun still hadn’t returned. Seeing her restless and agitated state, Shisan Lang comforted her: “The shops in East and West Markets don’t open for business until after the noon drum. What’s the rush?”

The princess frowned: “I’m worried that things chosen by a man will be unsightly.”

“Can’t say about other things, but that sesame flatbread from Fuxing Ward definitely won’t disappoint you. Fresh from the oven, the bread is crispy and fragrant with oil, the taste is divine. Changxing Ward’s Han family cherry bilo has transparent, soft skin that shows the cherry color through it. And Pingkang Ward North Quarter’s Zheng family seven-fold cake – the dough is spread with butter and folded seven times, first steamed then baked. When eating, each layer can be peeled off intact. The craftsmanship is absolutely amazing. Senior Brother doesn’t mind the trouble of running around…”

This day happened to be one with no rice in the pot. For morning meal they each had a ladle of cold water, both with empty stomachs, but neither mentioned being hungry. Shisan Lang repeatedly recalled delicious foods he had eaten, while the princess wished she could stuff a ball of cloth in his mouth to shut him up.

In the palace there were daily continuous banquets with imperial cuisine offering delicacies from land and sea, luxurious flavors from all nations. Dragon liver and phoenix marrow, unicorn jerky and leopard fetus – she had grown tired of all these and wouldn’t even glance at them, while her wet nurses tried every method to make her eat one more bite.

Now truly tasting hunger, she finally knew how precious it was to always have food available. As Shisan Lang enumerated these street snacks that she would once have disdained as dirty, now just listening made her mouth water.

After Shisan Lang chattered for a while and saw her face showing annoyance and barely contained anger, he immediately sensibly shut his mouth, dusted off his monk robe, and took his personal iron bowl:

“Oh my, this little monk is going out to beg for alms. Princess, please do as you wish.”

With that, he slipped away without a trace.

Princess Wangshou had nowhere to go and was left alone in the desolate temple. Though it was daytime, she still felt somewhat afraid. Combined with being irritably hungry, she wandered around while trying to embolden herself with thoughts like “this was my ancestors’ detached palace.”

Cuiwei Temple had been abandoned for decades. Most halls and meditation rooms were in ruins, and all furniture and furnishings had long been looted, leaving only some sour poems that monks and literati had inscribed on the walls.

The princess read for a while and found only one line somewhat acceptable: “The dragon’s whiskers cannot be glimpsed, the jade throne gathers dust.” There were also some strange lyrics that didn’t rhyme properly, like “Wild geese in formation of three, beauty returns, plain face in royal carriage steals spring’s radiance” and countless others.

Turning to enter another courtyard, she saw the buildings were dilapidated but everywhere was clean and tidy, seeming as if someone lived there. The princess went in for a look and saw a bamboo cloth blue shirt hanging on a clothes rack in the courtyard, its collar somewhat worn white. So this was Wei Xun’s residence.

The princess’s face reddened and she should have left immediately, but curiosity ultimately overcame propriety and she looked around a bit more. What she saw made her gasp – through the open door of the meditation room was half a room piled with bamboo strips and wooden tablets, enough to fill carts, weighing over a thousand pounds by visual estimate, of unknown origin.

After the Wei and Jin dynasties, paper gradually replaced bamboo and wood strips as the main medium for writing and transmitting text. Who was still using such cumbersome books?

The princess picked up a scroll to read, but her grip was slightly too strong and the thin hemp rope threading the wooden pieces immediately rotted away, causing the scroll to scatter across the floor with a crash.

Not newly made – were these works by ancient people?

The princess had a flash of insight and suddenly understood these things might all come from ancient tombs of previous dynasties.

“What is that little thief doing digging up so many bamboo strips instead of stealing treasures…”

These books had no tomb dirt and no spider webs, showing they had been read regularly. Large pottery basins were placed in the corridor, soaking some fragments with blurred writing and rotted text that couldn’t be read, though she didn’t know what purpose this served.

The princess’s curiosity was aroused and she sat in the corridor to read, but was greatly disappointed. The contents were mostly Taoist scriptures and secret texts, including plenty of absurd talk about techniques and alchemy. The palace’s heterodox practitioners had spoken of such things far too much – it was utterly tiresome.

Royalty and nobles obsessed with alchemy and mystical arts were common, but they were usually middle-aged and elderly people. Only in their twilight years, fearing destiny, would they think of cultivating immortality and longevity to seek deathlessness – Emperor Qin and Emperor Wu of Han were no exceptions. Even the wise and martial Emperor Taizong believed the nonsense of the Indian mystic Luonisapo in his later years.

This Wei Xun was young, looking barely twenty – why would a youth in his prime go through such hardships to collect these things? She immediately tossed down the scroll and paid it no more attention.

In the evening, the two brothers finally returned one after another.

Wei Xun had a white hemp cloth tied around his arm and wore a mischievous smile.

The princess felt somewhat angry just seeing his expression and asked: “What are you doing?”

Wei Xun replied with a grin: “Imperial decree – the whole city is wearing mourning for the princess.”

The princess was greatly embarrassed upon hearing this, her face flushing pink, mortified beyond words.

This fellow could clearly have removed the white hemp strip when leaving Chang’an, but deliberately wore it all the way back to show her – truly detestable.

Wei Xun added: “Both markets are under strict investigation. Couldn’t buy lamb shoulder, no roasted foods or deer jerky at all. Everyone will have to eat vegetarian for a month.”

The princess was already too angry to speak to him.

Shisan Lang was quite delighted, cheering: “It’s bread from Fuxing Ward!”

Author’s Note:

“First Day at Work, I’m Wearing Mourning for My Boss”