After a moment of silence, Zhao Ming said, “If there’s news from the paper mill, let me know.”
He was a bit uncomfortable sitting, so he rose to take his leave, “I’ll head back first.”
Zhao Hanzhang habitually tried to make him stay, “Won’t Uncle stay for a meal before leaving?”
“For the evening meal?” Zhao Ming glanced at her and asked, “Would we just sit idly for the remaining half day?”
Zhao Hanzhang fell silent. She pulled Fu Tinghan along to see him out. She had discovered that Zhao Ming truly liked Fu Tinghan—his expression was noticeably gentler when facing him, nothing like when facing her.
As Zhao Ming walked out, he said, “Stop fussing about the iron wok and soybean oil matter.”
“Alright.” Zhao Hanzhang agreed verbally, but whether she’d actually listen, probably only she and Fu Tinghan knew.
Zhao Ming didn’t know whether to believe her or not, but he left anyway.
The snowy scenery was so beautiful, just perfect for viewing.
After Zhao Ming returned home, he stood by the window watching the snow for quite a while before summoning his attendant and handing him a stack of invitation cards, “The snow should stop tonight. Send out these cards—invite them to the garden to view snow tomorrow.”
The attendant received the cards and bowed as he withdrew.
Zhao Ming called for the steward and asked, “How many new recipes use the iron wok?”
Without waiting for the steward to answer, he continued, “Have the kitchen prepare. Tomorrow I’m hosting guests in the garden. Have them make stir-fried dishes. The dishes served must be delicious and must not be cold. Cook everything with soybean oil.”
The steward was stunned for a moment before agreeing.
Zhao Ming added, “If we’re short on staff or woks, borrow from the old residence.”
The steward agreed. After waiting a while and seeing Zhao Ming had no other instructions, he bowed and withdrew.
Wang Shi agreed without hesitation and even lent out her best cook who specialized in stir-fry dishes.
She had been recommending the wok and soybean oil to her sisters-in-law all along, but to little effect. Outside, there were even rumors that she was willing to risk her life daily eating soybean oil to support her daughter.
Wang Shi thought: …We’ve never lacked bean products in our daily diet—tofu and bean sprouts are all eaten. Why can’t soybean oil be eaten?
Now finally someone was giving it respect. Wang Shi almost wanted to prepare all the dishes for them herself.
Zhao Ming, courtesy name Zinian, was the spokesman for the younger generation of the Zhao clan in Yuzhou. When he invited people to a meal, no one could refuse.
Everyone who received an invitation card gladly accepted.
Zhu Chuan, who had refused to leave and only sent his merchant caravan back to Shu while he himself stayed here with a few guards, also received an invitation.
He was delighted to go to the Zhao family fortress. But he was currently staying at the Song family’s estate outside the city. To reach the Zhao family fortress, he needed to first enter the county city, walk from one city gate to the opposite gate, then exit the city. Just as he was about to enter the city gate, he encountered Fu Tinghan who was leaving the city.
The two carriages met head-on.
Because Zhao Ming had mentioned the paper mill yesterday, Fu Tinghan decided to go check on it today.
After half a day and half a night of snowfall, the earth was now completely wrapped in white. Once outside the county city, everywhere one looked was a vast expanse of white.
Fu Tinghan, wearing his cloak and holding a hand warmer, sat in the carriage, occasionally glancing outside. Seeing the snow-white world between heaven and earth, he specifically had the carriage stop. He got out and stepped on the snow, which made crunching sounds under his feet.
He had seen heavy snow like this many times, but this kind of perfect snowy scenery with heaven and earth all in white was his first time witnessing it.
Fu Tinghan walked slowly forward on the snow, but his mind wandered far away. Hanzhang has seen even less snow like this. Does she know that the snowy scenery outside the city is this beautiful?
Heaven and earth were very quiet and vast. Walking in the snow, a person was like a small ant, so insignificant.
They were now working nonstop—could they really change the history in Hanzhang’s memory, preserve Yuzhou, and prevent it from being destroyed by the chaos of war?
Fu Tinghan stopped, gazing at the horizon as far as his eyes could see. Before nature, humans were so small. In the original course of history, how much impact could just the two of them have?
Fu Tinghan stood by the roadside staring into the distance in a daze. A carriage came from afar, slowing down as it approached, finally stopping by the roadside.
Fu’an stood nearby on alert, watching.
Zhu Chuan lifted the curtain. Seeing it was Fu Tinghan, he smiled, “Why is Young Master Fu standing by the road? Did something happen to your carriage?”
Fu’an saw that his young master was still in a daze, so he reached out and nudged him, “Young Master.”
Fu Tinghan came to his senses, but was still somewhat dazed, turning his head woodenly to look at him.
Fu’an gestured for him to look back, “It’s Master Zhu.”
Fu Tinghan turned around and only then noticed Zhu Chuan. He was curious, “Why are you here?”
This was somewhat impolite, but Zhu Chuan didn’t mind. Instead, he smiled, “Master Ming of the Zhao family is hosting a banquet at his residence. I’m going to attend. Did Young Master Fu not receive an invitation?”
Fu Tinghan honestly shook his head. After a moment’s thought, he understood why Zhao Ming was hosting a banquet. It seemed that although Zhao Ming verbally disapproved of Hanzhang, privately he worked quite a bit on her behalf.
Could this be called “harsh in words but soft in heart”?
Fu Tinghan couldn’t help but smile a little. He had the driver move the carriage aside to let Zhu Chuan pass first, “Master Zhu, please go ahead.”
Zhu Chuan was taken aback. Looking at Fu Tinghan’s face, which showed no unusual expression, he suddenly felt a bit ashamed. He was no longer in a hurry to leave, but instead asked, “Where is Young Master Fu traveling to in this cold winter?”
Fu Tinghan paused before saying, “Going to check on the villa.”
The two ran out of conversation again.
Fu Tinghan suddenly missed Zhao Hanzhang a bit. With her around, the atmosphere would never become awkward.
Fu Tinghan looked at Zhu Chuan innocently, very much hoping he would leave quickly.
Zhu Chuan actually understood his meaning. After a moment of surprise, he couldn’t help but laugh, cupping his hands in salute, “Then I won’t disturb Young Master Fu any longer. I’ll take my leave first.”
Fu Tinghan returned the courtesy. Seeing him board his carriage, he began walking his own way.
Fu’an hurried to follow, and the driver also pulled the carriage along.
Zhu Chuan, sitting in his carriage, lifted the window curtain and looked out. He saw Fu Tinghan walking slowly forward through the snow, with his servant and carriage following about ten feet behind without disturbing him. At this moment, he seemed to exist in his own world.
Zhu Chuan was lost in thought.
His attendant, seeing him pondering for quite a while, couldn’t help but call out, “Young Master?”
Zhu Chuan came back to himself and lowered the curtain, “Let’s go.”
The Zhu family’s carriage also began moving. Fu Tinghan had already forgotten about him, even forgetting about Fu’an and the driver following behind. No one knew what he was thinking about in that head of his.
Fu’an hunched his neck, following behind, only stepping forward to indicate which way to turn when necessary.
The three of them with one carriage slowly made their way to the paper mill. Fortunately, the paper mill wasn’t very far from the city gate—it was beside one of Zhao Hanzhang’s estates. This area was all her tenant farmers and hired workers, and there was a river. The paper mill was built downstream of the river, not very far from the estate.
The workshop had water pits everywhere. When the craftsmen saw Fu Tinghan, they immediately came forward, “Young Master, the materials in three pits have all soaked out the fibers you mentioned.”
Only then did Fu Tinghan slowly come back to himself. He nodded, “Let’s go take a look.”
—