Chapter Twelve: Yearning

Zhen Qian had no idea what Ayena Ye was thinking, nor did he know that he had nearly been beaten up by him. If he had known, he probably wouldn’t have acted so mysteriously. Seeing that the atmosphere he’d created was just right, Ayena Ye’s emotions were stirred. Zhen Qian found it amusing. If he’d said such things to a Tang man, it would never have had such a dramatic effect. This realization gave him even more confidence for what was to come.

“A real man may bleed but does not shed tears. Where is your heroic spirit? Since you’ve come all the way to Great Tang, why not make a grand name for yourself, achieve something remarkable, and return home in glory? Then your kin and friends back home would never dare look down on you!”

Ayena Ye had harbored the same thoughts, but fate had played a cruel trick on him. Now, trapped deep within Great Tang’s borders, he no longer dared to hope for a return to his homeland. Zhen Qian’s words brought forth a torrent of longing for that place, both distant and familiar. “Go home!” The thought flashed across Ayena Ye’s mind, burning with such intensity that he wished he could sprout wings and fly back at once.

Looking at the young man before him—someone even younger than himself—Ayena Ye slowly closed his eyes and said, “What do you want from me? I may be a barbarian, but I’m not a fool. You must want something if you say such things. Do you want me to kill someone?”

Zhen Qian was momentarily taken aback, not expecting Ayena Ye to jump to that conclusion. The man’s thinking was almost laughably simplistic. Shaking his head, Zhen Qian replied, “Do you think I bought you just to kill someone?”

Ayena Ye couldn’t understand; apart from killing, what else could he do?

“Isn’t that the case?”

Zhen Qian was speechless. Was it possible to be any more literal with someone so strong-limbed and simple-minded? “I didn’t buy you to kill for me. I intend to give you a new life, a stage to show your talents. And I can promise you this: once you achieve great merit, I’ll set you free, and give you a handsome sum to return home in glory. How about this deal?”

“That simple?”

Zhen Qian replied candidly, “What else did you expect? I can’t commit murder and arson. Don’t worry that my word is worthless—an honorable man’s promise is as swift and sure as a horse’s whip. The Zhen family is a prominent house in Zhendin; we don’t go back on our word. Believe me or not, you have no other choice. Why not take the gamble?”

“Fine!” Ayena Ye didn’t hesitate. “Like you said, I have no choice but to trust you. I just hope you keep your word. If not, we’ll both lose in the end!”

“Good! Stay here and recover your health. Soon, I’ll have work for you. Don’t let me down.”

First, he’d purchased the Song family of six skilled carvers, and now he’d bought a burly barbarian. Wang You truly couldn’t fathom what Zhen Qian was thinking.

After dealing with the newly acquired slaves, they prepared to return. Wang You couldn’t help but say, “Young Master, the elders at home—like Uncle Wang—are all skilled in martial arts. If there’s something to be done, just have them do it. Why buy a barbarian?”

“What are you saying?” Zhen Qian’s expression darkened. “Uncle Wang and the others aren’t young anymore. If we always rely on the old, what will you young people do?”

“But there’s no need to buy a barbarian! Even Wang Tiezhu at home is a good helper. If you need muscle, can’t you use him?”

Zhen Qian had never met this Wang Tiezhu, but from what the two young maids had told him, the man was like a black bear—immensely strong, honest, and reliable. Whenever Wang Tiezhu was around, no one else could do a better job guarding the courtyard. At the moment, though, Wang Tiezhu was away with Old Lady Wang and Chrysanthemum, burning incense and making offerings for Zhen Qian.

With a stern face, Zhen Qian asked, “Then tell me, what can you do to help?”

“Well…” Wang You hesitated, the question seeming simple but genuinely hard to answer. After hemming and hawing, he finally said, “Aren’t I your study attendant?”

Zhen Qian laughed. “Do you want to be a study attendant your whole life?”

The barrage of questions left Wang You dizzy. He’d never thought about his future before, and now, caught off-guard by Zhen Qian’s inquiry, he didn’t know how to respond.

“You need to look farther ahead, not just at your feet. ‘He who has no long-term concerns has immediate worries.’ Everyone should have a goal, or at least a wish. Even wanting a beautiful wife and a houseful of children is a direction to strive for. When Emperor Guangwu was in Nanyang, he lamented that if he became an official, he’d be Commander of the Imperial Guard; if he took a wife, he’d marry Yin Lihua. Can we say such goals aren’t the initial spark of life’s motivation?”

Wang You blinked at Zhen Qian. As a servant, he had never thought so far ahead. Servants were the private property of their masters—their ideas were the end of his life’s path. When had he ever had ambitions of his own?

“Can I do what I want to do?”

“Why not?” Zhen Qian replied indifferently. “Shi Le of Later Zhao was sold into slavery when he was young. ‘Heaven helps those who help themselves.’ If you’re a hero, you won’t always be mired in servitude. Even after being sold to a master in Shandong, Shi Le never gave up his aspirations. Even while working the fields, he listened for the sounds of distant drums and horns, dreaming of the day he’d achieve glory in battle. Later, his master heard of this and was amazed a barbarian slave had such ambition. He summoned Shi Le, found him extraordinary in appearance and speech, and freed him, keeping him close by. This set the stage for Shi Le’s future achievements. Though you may never become a Shi Le, you can still realize your dreams, even as a slave.”

Wang You was a little muddled. “But I don’t know what I want to do.”

“That’s fine. Not knowing now doesn’t mean you never will. As long as you stay true to yourself and prepare, opportunity will always favor the ready. Do you understand?”

Wang You nodded, half-understanding. It was hard for him to grasp such reasoning now, but the seed had been planted. As long as he kept his dreams, one day they’d break through the soil and sprout.

By the time they returned to the Zhen residence, it was already noon. His stomach was growling, but the two young maids seemed to have no intention of cooking, which puzzled Zhen Qian.

When he asked, the two maids brought him a few plates of snacks, and then he understood. In ancient times—especially during the Tang dynasty—people generally ate only two meals a day, one in the morning and one in the evening. Breakfast marked the start of the day, and after dinner, it was time for bed. This was similar to the habits of ascetics in later monasteries. Zhen Qian was stunned.

Eating only two meals a day wasn’t impossible for Zhen Qian, but having grown up with three meals a day, he wasn’t about to change his habits. Not that two meals a day were mandatory in ancient times; much depended on economic conditions. The more strenuous the labor, the more carbohydrates were needed. If resources allowed, eating all day was not out of the question.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

Though the two maids were used to two meals a day, they nodded. “If you’re hungry, Young Master, we can prepare a meal for you.”

“No need, I’ll do it myself,” Zhen Qian replied without hesitation, recalling the girls’ lackluster cooking skills. “I’ll make a few dishes for you today—just help me out. When the food’s ready, call Uncle Wang and the others to join us.”

Ever since he’d made Yangzhou fried rice, the two maids had been full of praise for his cooking and were eager to see what new surprises he’d create this time.

Zhen Qian had drawn up designs for some cooking utensils and had Butler Wang looking for craftsmen to make them, but that would take time. For now, he’d have to make do.

There were plenty of ingredients in the kitchen, even spices rarely seen in ordinary households, so Zhen Qian wasn’t worried about a lack of seasonings. Unfortunately, his favorite chili peppers were still a world away in the Americas, and many familiar ingredients were missing. Though this took some getting used to, adversity breeds opportunity. Adapt or be left behind!

“We’ll have to make do today…” Zhen Qian had the two maids help with prep, washing the ingredients. First, he made scrambled eggs with yellow chives. Next, he cut up a young chicken, marinated the pieces in fine salt, starch, cooking wine, Sichuan peppercorns, and Japanese pepper. Once the oil was hot, he added ginger, green onions, Japanese pepper, and Sichuan peppercorns, then fried the chicken pieces until golden. After draining the oil, he returned a little oil to the wok, heated it, and sautéed ginger and garlic until fragrant, then added chopped Japanese pepper and Sichuan peppercorns, stir-frying until the air was filled with a numbing, spicy aroma. Lacking peanuts, he used dried mushrooms for flavor, added a touch of sugar, and finished the dish.

“Young Master, what’s this dish called? It smells amazing!” Little Bamboo asked, swallowing her saliva.

“Spicy Chicken. Try and see if you like it.”

Japanese pepper wasn’t as fiery as chili peppers, nor did it have the same flavor, but before chilies were introduced, it was the main source of heat. Even so, the two maids, unaccustomed to spicy food, found it overwhelming and quickly gulped down water from a nearby well.

Zhen Qian had meant to stop them but was too late. He could only say, “You’re supposed to eat the chicken, not the Japanese pepper! And from now on, don’t drink raw water. There are many things in it you can’t see, and it could be dangerous. It might not show right away, but over time, who knows?”

Little Plum had heard him mention this before, but she hadn’t taken it to heart. Seeing Zhen Qian’s serious expression this time, she realized he meant it.

“If we can’t drink it, we won’t. Why are you so fierce?” Little Bamboo retorted, looking aggrieved. Zhen Qian hadn’t even been that stern, yet she put on a sullen face, leaving him to wonder what sort of pampered lives these two young ladies had led.