Chapter Fifty-Four: The Fortune of Great Tang

Wang Xiang was Fulai’s nephew. He had studied for a few years, originally hoping to secure an official post through the imperial examinations, but he couldn’t even pass the provincial exam. Thus, he came to the capital, seeking his uncle’s help for a job.

He arrived just as Li Yuechen was preparing to open her shop and needed a bookkeeper. The requirements weren’t high—just someone literate and able to keep clear accounts.

After carefully instructing his nephew, Fulai rose and went back to the palace.

Meanwhile, within the imperial palace, Li Yuechen was writing and pondering over a sheet of paper.

Egg whites, cucumbers, flour, honey… what else was there?

She scratched her head as she thought, occasionally tapping her own forehead with her palm, hoping to awaken some scattered memories.

But was cucumber really part of it? She recalled scenes from old dramas—cucumbers always seemed to be used directly.

After some deliberation, Li Yuechen beckoned to Xiao He, “It’s cucumber season now, isn’t it? Tell the Imperial Kitchen to bring me a cucumber, sliced.”

“Yes, Your Highness!”

Xiao He quickly set about the task.

Li Yuechen continued to jot down notes, considering how to make a primitive face mask.

About twenty minutes later, Xiao He returned with a bowl of sliced cucumber.

This vegetable was originally called “hu gua,” only renamed “huang gua” during Emperor Yang of Sui’s reign, and so it remained for over a thousand years. But the cucumbers of this era weren’t as large as those of the future—slimmer and smaller.

After washing her face, Li Yuechen reclined in her rocking chair and began placing the cucumber slices on her face.

Xiao He, watching, couldn’t help but ask, “What are you doing, Your Highness?”

“Nothing. Go about your duties,” Li Yuechen waved her off.

Xiao He nodded, still puzzled, and left, wondering if her mistress was possessed. Of course, such thoughts were strictly private.

Not long after, Shangguan Wan’er, having finished her studies, entered and saw Li Yuechen lying in her chair, cucumber slices on her face, lost in thought. Curious, she approached but said nothing, simply tilting her head and staring.

Li Yuechen’s dark eyes moved slightly. “Why are you staring at me?”

“I’m just curious—why put cucumber on your face?” Shangguan Wan’er replied.

“You wouldn’t understand. It’s for skincare.” Li Yuechen removed a slice from her forehead and popped it into her mouth.

Chewing thoughtfully, she considered whether to present this method to Wu Zetian.

But on reflection, it seemed too simple. It was better to research how to make a proper face mask. If nothing else, mixing egg whites and honey might suffice.

After all, anything edible smeared on the face, even if it didn’t truly help, surely wouldn’t make things worse.

With that, Li Yuechen took another slice and ate it.

…

A couple of days later, Li Yuechen figured the fertilizer should be ready and wanted to inspect it.

She summoned Fulai and Xiao He to accompany her outside the city.

Upon hearing Li Yuechen was leaving the palace, Shangguan Wan’er hurried over, wordless, gazing at her longingly.

Li Yuechen smiled, stroking her head. “Today I’m inspecting fertilizer outside the palace. It smells terrible—I won’t take you.”

“Yes…” Shangguan Wan’er answered, looking a little downcast.

Since they were heading out of the city, the guards—rather than changing into plain clothes—were fully armed, accompanying the carriage all the way to a village beyond the city.

Feeling bored, Li Yuechen climbed outside the carriage, sitting beside the driver, gazing at the passing scenery.

Even though the road had been leveled, the carriage still swayed.

Li Yuechen glanced down, wondering about the feasibility of making shock absorbers in this era.

Shock absorbers, simply put, were just two springs. But in reality, they were complicated devices—when she used to ride dirt bikes, tuning the suspension took ages.

Not to mention the questionable quality of steel here.

Another way was to layer steel plates to make leaf springs, though their shock-absorbing ability was inferior to coil springs.

Her current carriage was decent enough, being for royalty, with silk or leather cushions for extra comfort, although the effect… well, those who knew, knew.

…

For convenience, everyone except the driver rode horseback, surrounding the carriage.

Li Yuechen wanted to try riding herself, but considering her current height… she shook her head.

She could ride, and ride well, thanks to an ex-girlfriend whose family ran a stable and coached equestrian.

As an extreme sports enthusiast, Li Yuechen’s circle had always been filled with top athletes. Her ex was one of them.

The breakup was simple—the other wanted her to stay in Europe and help run the family farm, but Li Yuechen couldn’t stand the pastoral lifestyle and chose to leave.

Thinking back, she couldn’t help but feel nostalgic.

Seeking conversation, Li Yuechen turned to the team leader, “Are you married?”

“Yes, Your Highness. My son is five now,” he replied respectfully.

Li Yuechen nodded. He was a soldier here, with wife and child at home—always something to worry about.

It seemed soldiers were never without hardship, in any era.

She smiled, “You guards have it tough…”

The captain looked awkward. “Your Highness, we are not Imperial Guards, but Gate Guards.”

“Huh?” Li Yuechen was momentarily confused.

She’d always thought the guards protecting her were Imperial Guards, but today, Gate Guards?

Trying to mask her embarrassment, Li Yuechen asked, “What’s the difference between Gate Guards and Imperial Guards?”

He nodded, quickly explaining.

After listening, Li Yuechen realized she’d been mistaken all along.

She had thought the emperor was guarded by Thousand Bulls, and the rest by Imperial Guards, but the captain clarified that sixteen guards protected the imperial city, known as the Southern Yamen Sixteen Guards.

Imperial Guards were just one group; four of the sixteen were special—Left and Right Gate Guards, Left and Right Thousand Bulls. Unlike the others, they were not conscripted soldiers but salaried professionals.

He continued his lesson, and Li Yuechen finally understood.

The various guards protected the capital, while the Gate Guards were responsible for the palace.

Thousand Bulls protected the emperor, with “Thousand Bull Bodyguards”—usually sons of high officials, specifically legitimate heirs, never concubines’ sons.

The bodyguards carried two swords—one for themselves, one for the emperor.

If the emperor wanted to issue special orders or personally execute someone, the imperial sword would be used.

Speaking of swords, Li Yuechen had a gripe. Online, people said the straight “Tang swords” were the standard weapons of the Tang dynasty.

But after so long in Tang, she’d never seen such weapons.

These Gate Guards carried straight sabers, but this era lacked sword guards and pommels.

Usually, the handle was placed in the scabbard—the handle had a round ring larger than the mouth of the sheath, preventing the whole sword from sliding inside.

The advantage was that, while riding or running, the sword wouldn’t fall out, though drawing it was a bit trickier.

Wait!

Li Yuechen realized she’d spotted a gap—these hadn’t appeared yet; she could invent them!

As a martial artist, it would be perfectly normal for her to invent such things. If she could equip the military and improve their combat ability, it would please Emperor Li Zhi and Empress Wu Zetian.

If they were happy, she would be happy—perfect!

Feeling suddenly invigorated, Li Yuechen leaned against the carriage door, humming a tune.

The captain beside her reminded, “Your Highness, you should stay farther inside. Be careful not to fall.”

“No matter—the speed isn’t enough to kill anyone!” Li Yuechen waved off his concern.

The captain coughed, nearly choking on his own breath.

Such a careless attitude! Whether death was possible or not, even a minor fall was more than he could bear responsibility for.

Helpless, he kept one eye on Li Yuechen, in case she slipped, and slowed the carriage a bit.

…

About an hour later, they arrived at a village outside Luoyang.

The villagers, seeing a troop of fully armed soldiers, instinctively stepped back, though they didn’t look particularly scared.

On the way, Fulai had mentioned this was a royal estate, so the villagers were used to soldiers.

The carriage stopped, and Li Yuechen jumped down, followed by Fulai and Xiao He.

An elderly man, hair white and clad in coarse linen, approached to bow, “Greetings…”

“Never mind,” Li Yuechen raised a hand, “Just carry on with your work.”

The old man bowed and withdrew.

Fulai led Li Yuechen behind the village, and before they even reached their destination, the stench hit them—a smell potent enough to repel most living creatures.

After retching twice, Li Yuechen endured and pressed on.

Behind the village, a cone-shaped mound covered in mud emitted a smell that would make most creatures flee.

Li Yuechen had someone bring a hoe, held her breath, and turned the mud over a few times, nodding in approval.

Leaving the back hill, she waved to Fulai, “Find some containers and take it back.”

“Yes, Your Highness!”

The fertilizer was much as she remembered; whether it worked, only experiments would tell.

Back at the palace, it would be enough to mix it into the soil; for planting, she could have the Ministry of Revenue send people to help.

As for crops, Li Yuechen preferred rice over wheat.

With the Luo River nearby, her little garden should be able to support it.

If the experiment succeeded, she could recommend different crops for different regions.

In this era, no one hoped for a yield of a thousand catties per mu—just exceeding two hundred would make the emperor laugh in his sleep.

…

Elsewhere, Wu Zetian had finished all her memorials early. After spending some time in the Hall of Benevolence, Li Zhi decided to visit their daughter.

The couple arrived at the Palace of Peace; the palace maids lined up to bow.

But Xiao He and Fulai were absent, and so was their daughter.

Li Zhi frowned, “Rise. Where is Yuechen?”

Lady Zheng bowed, “Your Majesty, Her Highness said she was going out of the city today to inspect fertilizer.”

Li Zhi nodded and entered the palace. Since they were here, they might as well wait.

Wu Zetian, meanwhile, glanced at the now grown Shangguan Wan’er standing beside Lady Zheng, tilted her head thoughtfully, and followed Li Zhi inside.

Once they removed their shoes and entered, they immediately noticed Li Yuechen’s desk.

It was impossible not to—it was a mess, covered in scrolls and papers.

The desk was the most conspicuous thing in the hall.

“This girl…” Wu Zetian muttered, walking over and picking up a random sheet.

Egg whites, honey, cucumber… a list of foods.

Li Zhi peered over and smiled, “Is she researching some new dish again?”

He also grabbed a sheet to read.

Wu Zetian shook her head, “This girl, always so focused on food—I don’t know why.”

Li Zhi suddenly handed her a paper, “Meiniang, look at this!”

Wu Zetian took it, a look of surprise appearing on her face.

On the sheet was a poem:

Hoeing rice under noon’s blazing sun,
Sweat drips beneath the stalks.
Who knows, upon their plates,
Each grain comes from bitter toil.

Li Yuechen had forgotten most poems she’d learned, but those like “Toiling Farmers” or “Quiet Night Thoughts” were ingrained from childhood.

Afraid she might forget, she sometimes wrote them out—one never knew when they might come in handy.

Usually, she burned such poems after writing, but lately, with so much written and her mind on face masks, this one had slipped beneath her papers.

After recovering from her surprise, Wu Zetian’s expression softened.

Li Zhi sighed, gazing out at the sky, murmuring as if to himself, “A heart for all under heaven… Meiniang, having Yuechen is our blessing, and the blessing of Great Tang.”

Wu Zetian smiled and nodded, “As Your Majesty says!”