Chapter 134: Assassination, Braised Meat, And Oil-splashed Noodles
Any historical opportunity carries significant randomness; there’s no such thing as inevitability. If doing something guarantees a reward, only a swindler would use that theory.
Gunpowder is one such historical opportunity. Yun Ce gave Miss Hong and the others the gunpowder formula; if she receives it, it means this thing was destined for her.
If that carrier pigeon met with an accident along the way, or if Miss Hong and the others couldn’t develop good gunpowder, then it would mean gunpowder was not meant to be part of her life.
Yun Ce doesn’t care if Miss Hong receives it. As E Ji said, it would be a good thing for Yun Ce if it fell into the hands of ill-intentioned people and was successfully developed.
Unlike the people at the very top on Earth, there isn’t a single person among the highest echelons of the Great Han who isn’t a true elite. Not only are they intelligent, but they are also powerful in martial arts, and with their authority and wealth, they firmly keep the vast majority of the lower classes in a dark and hopeless existence at the very bottom.
Gunpowder is a good thing because it can break free from the limitations of the physical body, thus creating a situation where people with very low martial power can kill those with very high physical power.
Such a situation can naturally shake the ruling foundation of those individuals.
The seed of gunpowder has already been sown, and Yun Ce will no longer concern himself with its subsequent development. If there is further development, such as gunpowder exploding in Chuyun Prefecture, Yun Ce will hear about it.
Chang’an experiences rain every three days, which is not a good thing for the wheat that is about to be harvested, as the wheat needs to undergo continuous strong sunlight to truly mature.
Yun Ce wrote this concern to the High Priest.
Strangely, yet predictably, on the third day, Lantian County was still bathed in bright sunshine.
The wheat, having been sun-dried for three full days, stood golden yellow in the fields, rustling with the breeze. A stronger wind would create waves of golden wheat.
High Priest Liu Changsheng and Grand Marshal Zhou Bo, along with a large group of people, stood at the edge of the wheat field. Liu Changsheng casually broke off a stalk of wheat, gave half to Zhou Bo, and then rubbed the remaining half stalk in his hand. With a puff of air, plump, yellowish wheat grains appeared in his palm.
Glancing at the wheat grains in Liu Changsheng’s hand, which were the size of soybeans, Yun Ce felt an uncontrollable bitterness in his heart, even though all this wheat was personally planted by him.
The average yield per mu of wheat was eight thousand seven hundred catties!
Yun Ce was dispirited, while Liu Changsheng and Zhou Bo were overjoyed. This was more than four times the yield of slash-and-burn agriculture, and it was definitely promising.
People can simply find a patch of land in the wild, burn it, make a hole in the ground with a sharpened wooden stick, drop in the wheat seeds, stomp on them with their feet, and then leave them be. When the wheat ripens, they harvest the heads, and even with this method, they get two thousand catties per mu.
Yun Ce had experience as an agricultural official. In China’s main wheat-producing region, the Huang-Huai area, wheat yields often fluctuated between seven hundred and one thousand catties per mu. This was with genuine intensive cultivation, ample fertilizer, and conditions very suitable for wheat growth in terms of water, light, and temperature.
Such diligent and hard farming yielded less than what wildmen could achieve with a fire and a wooden stick.
This made Yun Ce deeply feel that the hard-working old farmers on Earth who couldn’t even sell their wheat for a good price deserved better. They should come to the Great Han to farm.
The bitter expression on Yun Ce’s face did not escape the notice of Liu Changsheng and Zhou Bo.
Liu Changsheng said to Zhou Bo with a smile, “One thing is certain: in the ancestral land, growing grain is a very tough and unprofitable occupation.”
Zhou Bo smiled and asked, “What makes you say that?”
Liu Changsheng replied, “You only need to look at Yun Ce’s bitter face to know. The grain yield in the ancestral land is at most half of what we have here.”
Zhou Bo chuckled, “Poor fellow…”
Eight thousand seven hundred catties per mu. In the Great Han, a strong man can support himself with three *dan* of grain per year. Three *dan* of grain in the Great Han is only three hundred and sixty catties. Farming one mu of land is enough to support the entire family, with surplus.
Yun Ce couldn’t help but cast his gaze towards the fields of unripe millet, beans, and baby beans, firmly believing that their yields would also be exceptionally high.
Zhou Bo approached Yun Ce, patted him heavily on the shoulder, and stated emphatically, “Starting next farming season, all the slaves near Chang’an will be organized to farm.”
Yun Ce said with difficulty, “Judging by the climate around Chang’an, this place can achieve two harvests a year.”
Zhou Bo’s smile became even brighter, and he continued to pat Yun Ce’s shoulder enthusiastically. “You go and farm north of the Great Wall. If you can improve the provision supply at Iron Enclosure Pass, when you return, as long as I am alive, I guarantee your Yun Clan will have a respectable and useful rank to pass down to your descendants.”
Yun Ce quickly bowed in thanks. At that very moment, a shiny golden thing flew from afar, not too fast, not too slow. Zhou Bo’s expression changed drastically, and he let out a roar. Four armored soldiers immediately appeared around him, surrounding him.
Although Yun Ce didn’t understand what the wobbling object was, he performed a Tiger Leap and jumped into the nearby water channel, grabbing a stone slab used for damming water and placing it over himself with one hand.
“Whiz, whiz, whiz…” A dense sound like rain hitting duckweed reached Yun Ce’s ears. He tried to curl up as much as possible, hiding his body beneath the stone slab. Even so, from under the slab, he saw over a dozen silvery-white spikes emerge from one end of the slab.
“Assassins, catch the assassins!”
Hearing the commotion outside, Yun Ce lifted the stone slab and cautiously peered out, discovering that the four armored soldiers guarding Zhou Bo were no longer moving much.
Yun Ce quickly jumped out, pushed aside some of the armored soldiers who had been shot into hedgehogs by the spikes, and saw that Zhou Bo also had spikes in his shoulder, abdomen, thigh, and foot. He then shouted like a startled chick.
“Assassins, catch the assassins! The Grand Marshal is injured…”
At the same time, his eyes darted around, even dispatching Doggy to search everywhere for the assassin’s hiding place.
A burly man with a body like a bull, covered only by a few pieces of leather for modesty, leaped from a tall Yi Tree like a stone. Wielding a broad cleaver, he ran and charged towards Yun Ce, howling.
Yun Ce knew this strong man’s target was Zhou Bo, not him. He really wanted to run but knew he couldn’t. Gritting his teeth, he picked up an armored soldier’s horse spear from the ground, shook the spearhead, and shouted as he charged towards the strong man.
Good, someone was much faster than him. Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be Wu Tong. Yun Ce put away his horse spear, deciding not to get involved, and focused on caring for Zhou Bo.
As soon as he ran back, he saw an idiot preparing to pull out the spikes from Zhou Bo.
“Don’t pull them out,” Yun Ce shouted.
Pushing aside the scoundrels who had the same idea as him, Yun Ce picked up Zhou Bo and sprinted towards the Yun Family courtyard. This person had treated him well, so he would save him if he could.
Zhou Bo appeared very lucid. Even though he was covered in blood, he calmly issued orders to the subordinates following Yun Ce while in Yun Ce’s arms.
Yun Ce was somewhat puzzled. He was attacked at the Yun Family Manor, but he didn’t understand why they would set an ambush at Ji Ming Post Station and order that no albatrosses be flown for two days.
Zhou Bo continued to issue orders incessantly. Yun Ce placed him on the bed, tied off his thighs, and seeing that the blood flow had slowed, quickly pulled out the spikes from his legs and feet. Subsequently, Zhou Bo’s subordinates stuffed a lot of medicinal powder into the wounds.
And quickly bandaged them with cloth strips.
Yun Ce was very busy, his forehead covered in sweat. After the last spike was removed, Yun Ce even staggered back and sat down on a cushion.
Only then did High Priest Liu Changsheng, who was also being closely guarded by armored soldiers, rush over. Seeing that Zhou Bo was still alive, he let out a sigh of relief.
Zhou Bo, with nine holes in his body, sat on the edge of the bed. Although he was bandaged like a mummy, his expression remained majestic, sitting there like a deity.
His gaze, like a laser, swept across everyone’s face in the room, making Yun Ce’s scalp tingle. Just as he was about to leave, the gate opened wide, and he saw Wu Tong entering, dragging the strong man who was only partially covered by leather.
“Did you find out?” Zhou Bo asked in a deep voice.
“They are death warriors,” Wu Tong said, his expression also grim.
Zhou Bo sneered, “He’s still alive, isn’t he?”
Wu Tong pried open the death warrior’s mouth for Zhou Bo to see. The mouth was empty; it had teeth but no tongue.
“Are there any others?”
“They are being pursued. There are few people in the Great Han who can use iron spirals as assassination tools.”
Zhou Bo gritted his teeth and said, “Investigate and see which army this iron spiral belongs to.”
After speaking, Zhou Bo visibly weakened. He turned to the High Priest and said, “Old friend, it’s up to you now.”
The High Priest placed a hand on the Grand Marshal’s chest and said softly, “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. You can sleep now.”
Liu Changsheng’s words seemed to carry a magical power. As he spoke, Zhou Bo fell asleep instantly.
“Return to the Divine Dragon Hall.”
Immediately, someone placed Zhou Bo on a blanket, and several armored soldiers dragged the blanket, carrying him onto a horse carriage.
Before getting into the horse carriage, the High Priest looked at the anxious Yun Ce and reassured him, “Don’t worry, this matter has nothing to do with you. However, this area will be sealed off for a few days. Once the seal is lifted, you can go back to your own affairs.”
Watching the High Priest’s entourage depart, Yun Ce turned to Feng An, who was waiting beside him, and said, “The newly harvested wheat has been dried enough, can it be put in the mill?”
Feng An looked back reluctantly at the departing convoy and said, “Grand Marshal, High Priest, you won’t have the good fortune to taste the oil-splashed noodles prepared by the Lord.”
Yun Ce sneered, “They were never prepared for them anyway. Let’s go back and have braised meat with oil-splashed noodles today!”
The braised meat was prepared by Yun Ce last night and had been soaking in the brine for a day, making it perfect for today. Although these items, along with the oil-splashed noodles, were meant to curry favor.
However, the aroma was incredibly dominant.
The temptation of this dish was naturally strong, even in the clear yet foolish eyes of Dog King Nao Sheng, whose brain marrow had been swept again by Doggy last night, a hint of greed appeared.
