The conversation with Li Tai proceeded very pleasantly. A person who no longer harbored extravagant hopes for the throne had a peaceful mindset. You could tell him any kind of joke about the throne, and amidst laughter and tears, that thick sourness could never be dispelled.
Li Tai carried the finished firecrackers out of the cellar. The guards went down into the cellar and took away everything inside, including the newly swept dust, leaving the Yun family with an empty cellar.
Teaching the method of making gunpowder in the cellar was specifically instructed by Li’er. He believed this was humanity usurping Heaven’s authority and could not be seen by Heaven, so it must be conducted beneath the nine earths. Fortunately, the Yun family’s cellar was big enough and deep enough. Aside from not digging all the way to the Yellow Springs, everything else was fine. Although it had the air of deceiving oneself, since Li’er had solemnly instructed it, Yun Ye had to carry it out without compromise. Imperial authority was far more terrifying than the Yellow Springs.
Li Tai stubbornly took a basket of corn from the Yun home—he didn’t want the cooked kind, only raw. He planned to return to the palace and cook it himself, chop his own firewood, tend his own fire, peel his own corn, and personally deliver the corn to his parents. He couldn’t cook; only boiling corn was somewhat feasible. He wanted to use this method to tell Li’er and Zhangsun that he was withdrawing from the competition for the throne, henceforth becoming a peaceful prince and researching those things he loved.
A person’s back often tells you much information. For instance, Li Tai now—he started with drooping shoulders and bent waist, but later gradually straightened his back and his figure became upright. He waved at Yun Ye and said a sentence, then dove into his carriage. Others couldn’t understand, but Yun Ye knew the meaning of those words. Li Tai was still Li Tai and had never changed.
“Husband, Prince Wei said he picked out several dozen big fellows. What does that mean?” Xinyue stood at the door watching Li Tai’s departing carriage, asking thoughtfully.
“Men’s business—what are women asking so much for?” Yun Ye turned and pushed the gossip-minded Xinyue back inside. Who had women running around everywhere in the middle of the night?
Whether Li Yuanzhang would die or not was none of Yun Ye’s concern. Such superb specimens among scum—the fewer of them the better. Several dozen large hornets stabbing wildly all over his body would definitely make him wish he were dead. Li Tai’s depression needed a place to vent, and Li Yuanzhang just happened to run into bad luck—what could be done?
Sun Simiao hadn’t slept yet. He’d hung a lantern in the courtyard and lay in a reclining chair listening to frogs. Since Yun Ye entered the house, Sun Simiao had been invited to stay. Na Rimu was about to give birth—her first child. Without Old Sun present, Yun Ye felt uneasy. But the old Daoist also seemed to want to come to the Yun home. Steward Qian invited him once, and he packed a bundle and came down from Yushan. Accompanying him was Huozhu’s younger sister. The little girl wore Daoist robes with a wooden hairpin in her hair, constantly moving burning moxa beside Sun Simiao to drive away all the mosquitoes.
Had the old Daoist developed worldly desires? As soon as this thought arose, Yun Ye himself felt it was sordid. If this situation happened to Li’er, no speculation would be excessive, but applied to Sun Simiao, it was blasphemy. In all the Great Tang, Yun Ye had only encountered this one person of truly noble virtue. Though later he researched things like knockout drugs, that was also for medical research—it was just that Yun Ye hadn’t put them to proper use.
Beside Sun Simiao was an ear of corn—raw, with the outer husk already peeled, missing a few kernels. He still had that bad habit of shoving unfamiliar plants into his mouth. More than once, Yun Ye had seen his mouth swollen like it had sausages hanging from it. For conducting experiments, pigs, horses, oxen, sheep, monkeys, and rabbits would all do—why make things difficult for himself? This was how Shennong had died.
Seeing Yun Ye come over, Sun Simiao beckoned him over and said, “Na Rimu’s body is very healthy. Her due date is within these two days. You’ve been away eight months—properly keeping this child company is what you should do. I see she has worries in her heart. This isn’t good. Over time, people will get sick. If you keep busy like this, when will it end?”
Yun Ye sat on the small stool the little Daoist nun brought over and said with a smile, “Na Rimu misses the grasslands. She always dreams of the grasslands. I’ve promised her that as long as the child passes one year old, she can go to the grasslands as she wishes. Before that, I want to vaccinate the child with cowpox. Since the Xiongnu, the great grasslands have had a bad habit—habitually using cattle, sheep, and even people who died of disease as weapons to resist Han attacks. Little do they know this thing is a double-edged sword, harming others as well as themselves. Han people’s living habits are better than theirs, so the greatest harm is still to themselves. For a child on the grasslands to grow from birth into a youth is more difficult than in the Central Plains. If three or four out of ten children can smoothly grow up, that’s considered divine protection.”
“Then why are you still letting Na Rimu take the child away? Can’t I raise it? Aren’t children born to concubines all raised by the legitimate wife? Only our family is different.”
Xinyue was a phantom, appearing anywhere at any time.
Sun Simiao smiled without speaking. At the Yun home, he was a special existence. Starting with Old Madam, no one treated him as an outsider. If someone else were present, Xinyue would never say these words even if beaten to death, but before Sun Simiao, she had no taboos.
“What are you fussing about? Our family is our family. Once through the door, you’re all my wives. I married you all and won’t harm you. Although marrying two wives is already a kind of harm—there’s no help for it. Things have reached this point, so we discuss the situation at this point. You have a child, so it’s natural and right for you to raise it. Na Rimu will also have a child, so it’s perfectly logical for her to raise hers too.”
Xinyue put down the fruit plate in her hands—it was actually watermelon, only the seeds on it were really too numerous, and it wasn’t large either, about bowl-sized, not like those in later generations that grew as big as winter melons.
“Cold melon! The last time this old Daoist ate this was when treating the Empress at Furong Garden two years ago. In the blink of an eye, it’s been two years. This year’s melons grew large—the rainfall was sufficient. That’s the only benefit.” In recent years, Sun Simiao had become more like an immortal. Everything in his eyes was light as clouds and wind, causing no ripples. Cold melons were only grown in the imperial gardens, just an mu or two each year. In summer, they were bestowed as precious rewards, giving those princes and marquises one or two each. Whichever family received them, it was an honor.
A small melon was finished in two or three bites. Yun Ye carefully collected the seeds, having Xinyue wash them clean and dry them, planning to plant some at home next year too.
“Doesn’t the government prohibit growing this? Why are you collecting seeds?” Xinyue still looked like a good law-abiding citizen, but Yun Ye had long since learned bad habits these two years—exploiting loopholes in laws and regulations wasn’t his first time. Like those princely and marquis families, who among them took royal law seriously? As long as one didn’t rebel, one was a first-rate good citizen.
“The Emperor took our family’s potatoes and hid them away, and no one said anything. I grow a little broken cold melon and you nag and nag—aren’t you annoying?”
Xinyue irritably slapped Yun Ye’s shoulder and led her gang of followers back to the rear courtyard.
“You climbed around Wild Man Mountain for a month—didn’t you discover any good medicinal materials?” Three sentences never left his profession. Seeing Xinyue leave, Sun Simiao immediately asked the key point.
“Of course I did. That tianqi medicine you’ve always wanted to find—I found it for you. I brought back some dried products and will send them to you later. I also saw a kind of meat-eating flower, but I don’t know if it’s useful. It was too smelly, so I didn’t take it. I caught a red-colored centipede, the kind that’s a foot long. Haven’t you always said the centipedes here aren’t potent enough for medicine? That one should surely be sufficient. I also brought you a local specialty—leeches. Big ones, fierce blood-suckers. One bite is extremely comfortable—the wound will bleed for a whole day. Dou Yanshan tried being bitten by dozens at once and nearly lost his life. What do you think?”
“Where?” Sun Simiao had no time to listen to Yun Ye’s boasting and directly asked what was most important.
“I’m keeping the leeches in a water vat, the tianqi is in the storehouse, and the centipede is in my study.” Though Old Sun had a gentle temperament, he was the most impatient person. If Yun Ye talked more, he might get beaten. He quickly explained the locations clearly.
Holding a lantern, he fished a leech from the water vat. Sun Simiao placed it on his finger. The slimy, greenish leech anxiously tried to bite into the callused finger—all in vain. The calluses on Sun Simiao’s index finger were too thick. Its mouth couldn’t bite through, so it could only circle around looking for tender places to bite.
With a flick of his finger, the leech was flicked back into the vat. Looking at his finger, he smiled inscrutably, then dove right into Yun Ye’s study. In a hardwood box was that red centipede, looking alive, with hardly any legs missing. For it, Yun Ye had worked hard, wrapping the centipede in rice paper, placing it in a ventilated place to slowly air-dry, finally fixing it to softwood with embroidery needles. It was no longer just medicinal material—it counted as a work of art.
“Very good, excellent condition. The toxicity also looks considerable. It’s good medicine. For calming wind and relieving pain, for malignant sores—with it, these stubborn ailments will be easier to handle.” After saying this, he closed the box and tucked it in his bosom, then indicated for Yun Ye to take him to the Yun family’s treasury. The tianqi was still there.
Only Sun Simiao would have nothing better to do than tour someone else’s storehouse. He didn’t even glance at things like glazed ware, only picked out a few pearls from what Yun Ye had brought back, saying he needed them for medicine preparation. Xinyue, who had just opened the storehouse door, smilingly suggested to Sun Simiao that there were many more pearls in back—should the Old Immortal pick a few larger ones?
This spendthrift woman! For medicinal use, picking crooked, misshapen pearls was fine—they’d all be ground to powder anyway. Why pick large, fine ones?
Several hemp sacks sat on the shelves, all filled with tianqi—all the best tianqi that the Mengjia village elders had people gather. Well-aged, each one robust, with complete roots, stems, and leaves. Sun Simiao was very satisfied with this. He selected a few plants and left the treasury, frowning as he said to Yun Ye, “Why do you accumulate so many of those useless things? Treasures are sources of disaster. Don’t lose yourself in them.”
A monk could not care—when one person was fed, the whole family wasn’t hungry. But the Yun family had such a large household. Old Qin was still issuing orders for the Yun family to make Runniang’s dowry more generous. How could they do without money?
But since Old Sun had spoken, he could only lower his head and receive the teaching.