When Zhao Xuwan heard the noise, she had already hidden her hands behind her back. Deep inside her basket was a sickle—just in case something went wrong, she would…
With the reassurance of having a tool in hand, Zhao Xuwan carefully parted the grass and discovered a woman clutching her foot, lying on the ground.
The woman also saw Zhao Xuwan and, disregarding any impropriety, pleaded with a pale face for Zhao Xuwan to help her.
Zhao Xuwan looked over and realized she must have fallen from a rock and sprained her ankle.
Setting down the bamboo basket, Zhao Xuwan rolled up her sleeves and helped the woman stand.
"Can you walk?" Zhao Xuwan asked.
"Not really." The ankle was twisted in a way that didn’t seem normal; Zhao Xuwan guessed it might be broken.
"Where are your maidservants?" Seeing the woman’s attire, which didn’t resemble that of a Shuren, Zhao Xuwan assumed she was a child of some nobility who had run away.
"I didn’t bring any," the woman replied with a bitter smile.
"Wait a moment," Zhao Xuwan sighed, turning and walking a few steps away. "Yun, Yu, come here!"
They weren’t far away. After a few calls, Yun and Yu, their faces flushed, came running over. "What’s wrong, Madam?"
Afraid that their mistress might be injured, they had dropped the wild vegetables and rushed over immediately.
"This lady…"
"Zhao Ying."
"This lady, Zhao Ying, has injured her leg. Help her out of the mountains," Zhao Xuwan instructed the two maidservants, while she herself picked up the discarded sickle and bamboo basket, slinging it over her back.
Zhao Ying explained that she had argued with her family and run out to clear her mind, never expecting to injure her leg.
"If I’d known, I would’ve just stayed angry in my room," Zhao Ying said dejectedly.
Seeing that Zhao Ying was about the same age as her younger brother, Zhao Xuwan couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pity.
After comforting her a few words, she had the household servants bring a carriage to take her home.
"What’s your name?" Before boarding the carriage, Zhao Ying looked up at Zhao Xuwan, her eyes bright as she asked.
"Wan."
This was her name in this era, as Shuren had neither surnames nor clan names.
Zhao Ying didn’t react with surprise but nodded earnestly. "I understand. When my leg heals, I’ll come find you again."
At the very least, she wanted to appear less disheveled next time.
Zhao Xuwan simply took it as childish whimsy. After watching the carriage depart, she led the two maidservants back.
The two maidservants insisted on carrying the bamboo basket for her.
"It’s so heavy—how could we trouble Madam with it?"
Though both were younger than Zhao Xuwan, they spoke with an air of maturity.
Unable to dissuade them, Zhao Xuwan let them carry the basket.
Upon returning home, she eagerly began washing the potatoes. To make it look convincing, she had rolled the originally clean potatoes in mud before taking them out.
Now, they needed to be thoroughly cleaned.
"Madam, what is this?"
The two maidservants stared at yet another unfamiliar object, their eyes filled with curiosity.
"It should be edible," Zhao Xuwan pretended to ponder. "It looks so plump; it probably tastes good."
Zhao Xuwan planned to showcase her skills that evening. Although there was no iron pan for stir-fried dishes and no seasonings for flavorful meals, life was gradually improving. Now, she finally had something to look forward to.
"We’re having roast chicken tonight. Just wait and taste it," Zhao Xuwan said energetically, rolling up her sleeves.
Chicken was a common meal at home. With someone helping to kill and pluck the chicken, Zhao Xuwan was responsible for cutting the potatoes. She kept five potatoes as seeds and cut up the rest, planning to stew them with the chicken.
She used ginger to marinate the chicken well, removing some of the gamey taste, and added some dogwood to enhance the flavor.
She placed lard in an earthenware pot, heating it thoroughly until it became oil, then poured in all the chicken, added the chopped potatoes, and seasoned with dogwood and salt before letting it simmer slowly.
While the stew simmered, Zhao Xuwan kneaded dough, rolling it out. Once the chicken was cooked, she placed the rolled-out dough on top.
When dinner was ready, Zhao Xuwan first served the dough, then dished out the chicken and potatoes.
"There are some potatoes left, take them to share. This dough too." Zhao Xuwan had made plenty, and since the two of them only had so much appetite, the leftovers naturally went to the household servants. Moreover, the mute servant had also prepared bean rice, and with Zhao Xuwan's additions, tonight's meal was almost as lavish as a New Year's Eve feast.
"Yes," Yun said happily. "It must be delicious—you can tell just from the aroma."
Yiren smelled the fragrance even before reaching home today.
"My lord?" Zhao Xuwan saw him and smiled. "Come in quickly. I cooked today."
Yiren smiled, put down his things, and entered the main gate. "What's this?"
Looking at the yellow substance in the bowl, Yiren wondered what new food Zhao Xuwan had found.
"This is a newly discovered food. Would you like to try it, Prince?" Zhao Xuwan handed him chopsticks. "I found it in the mountains. If it tastes good, we can try cultivating it."
"I also gathered some wild vegetables today. We can consider making dumplings tomorrow." Zhao Xuwan enthusiastically picked up a piece of potato with her chopsticks.
Yiren followed her example and picked up a piece of potato. Initially trying it out of curiosity, he was surprised to find it completely different from what he expected. Soft and glutinous was the first impression, followed by how well it absorbed the flavors—both the spiciness and saltiness were fully present.
Watching Yiren bury himself in eating the potatoes, barely touching the chicken, Zhao Xuwan wore an expression that said she had expected this all along.
"This thing is quite flavorful," Yiren said. "Quite good."
With two "quite"s in a row, Zhao Xuwan knew he genuinely liked it.
"Though it's slightly inferior to sweet potatoes," Yiren added.
"Mhm," Zhao Xuwan nodded, holding back a laugh.
Yiren did indeed prefer sweet potatoes. The few they had kept at home later were all eaten by him, while Zhao Xuwan had barely taken a few bites.
"If we plant them, let the servants handle it," Yiren added. "Don't overexert yourself."
Sometimes, watching Zhao Xuwan bustling about, he worried she might harm her health.
"The physician said moderate activity is good for the body," Zhao Xuwan said. "It'll also make childbirth easier when the time comes."
It was almost four months now. The weather was getting hotter, and she was wearing lighter clothes, making her slightly protruding belly somewhat noticeable.
To be honest, there was still no fetal movement. Carrying the child, Zhao Xuwan felt nothing—no morning sickness, no drowsiness, and she could even walk quite briskly. She had always felt this child was here to repay a kindness—it was simply too well-behaved.
Thinking back to her previous life in the modern era, she had seen all kinds of posts online about the immense suffering mothers endured after giving birth. This had solidified Zhao Xuwan's resolve never to marry or have children in her lifetime. And indeed, she had stuck to that in her past life—she never married or had children until her unexpected sudden death.
So, the "chosen one" arrived in this era and had to go through marriage and childbirth. Zhao Xuwan could only laugh bitterly—wasn't this practically no different from being trafficked?
Although Yiren couldn't get pregnant, he had seen others pregnant. His father had numerous wives and concubines, and children were even more abundant. Yiren had witnessed the pregnancies of his other wives, and they were nothing like Zhao Xuwan's.
"As long as you're not uncomfortable, it's fine," Yiren said. Though he wasn't a physician, he knew everyone's situation was different. If Zhao Xuwan wasn't uncomfortable and enjoyed it herself, then there was no harm. He didn't think it was shameful for his wife to do such things.
Zhao Xuwan nodded and casually mentioned saving a woman today. "Her name is Zhao Ying—quite a spirited name. She might be from the royal family."
After returning home, Zhao Xuwan belatedly realized what "Zhao" represented here. Although she herself was surnamed Zhao, that was in modern times. Here, she was simply called Wan.
"It doesn't matter," Yiren said indifferently. "You saved her. She was injured herself—how could she possibly blame you? Those who understand etiquette would come to thank you, and those who don’t wouldn’t vent their anger on you."
Seeing the Prince's somewhat disdainful attitude toward the Zhao royal family, Zhao Xuwan wondered—wasn't the Prince a member of the Zhao nobility?
Having lived here for eighteen years, she more or less understood that princes from various states often lived in other countries, and political marriages were even more common.
So, the Prince wasn't from the State of Zhao but from another state. This could also explain why his parents weren’t here, and neither were his other family members.
Yiren had only intended to comfort Zhao Xuwan, but he didn’t expect her thoughts to wander so far.
"That paper," Yiren was more concerned about this, "can it be made again?"
"Of course," Zhao Xuwan instinctively straightened her back. "But the raw materials might need to be changed to see if we can make it whiter."
"Tell me what materials you need, and I’ll find them for you," Yiren said. "Or give me the recipe, and I’ll have someone prepare it."
They were husband and wife—saying it was troublesome would be too formal. Zhao Xuwan hadn’t intended to hide it, but she didn’t know why Yiren wanted the recipe. Was he planning to give it to someone else?
"I want to see if we can turn this into a business," Yiren took a deep breath. Today, he had taken the paper to Lu Buwei, and when Lu Buwei saw it, his eyes nearly popped out.
Soon, the merchant’s nature emerged. He told Yiren this was a perfect opportunity, one that might even allow him to return to Qin ahead of schedule.
Upon hearing this, Yiren’s expression remained unchanged, but his clenched hands betrayed his inner turmoil.
"Think about it, Prince," Lu Buwei said excitedly, his face flushed as if he had already seen his investment going public. "Once this paper is produced, think of its impact on scholars and the nobility’s monopoly. Paper is infinitely better than bamboo slips. Unless a ruler is a fool, who wouldn’t want it? If the King of Qin sees that you can produce such an excellent thing, perhaps you won’t even need to wait to return on your own. It’s said that the State of Qin has already mobilized its military, ready to take action against the State of Zhao at any moment. This is a rare opportunity, Prince."
Yiren had initially been excited too, but he calmed down upon hearing Lu Buwei’s later words. "Zhao Dan is no fool."
"Hmph," Lu Buwei chuckled, his smile tinged with disdain. "Zhao Dan? There are plenty around him who will help." Were there ever too few people blinded by greed?
"No, not to the State of Qin just yet," Yiren calmed down and rejected the idea.
"We can try doing business first, selling paper."
"Selling paper?" Zhao Xuwan exclaimed in surprise. "Can it be sold? How would we sell it? Will anyone buy it?"
According to this method of papermaking, how much manpower would be needed to produce enough paper to sell? And although she didn’t know much about this period of history, paper had never been cheap in ancient times. This era was even earlier—no Shuren (commoner) could afford to study. Besides selling to the nobility, who else could they sell to?
"That’s exactly who we’ll sell it to," Yiren said. "We’ll start with the State of Zhao."
Author’s Note:
Lüshi Chunqiu: Benwei mentions, "In the art of seasoning, one must use sweetness, sourness, bitterness, pungency, and saltiness," so ginger and dogwood existed during the Warring States period.