A special thank you to my patrons:
—Shahzaam, Jacob Mooe, kevin Williams, Jose Sierra, Pasang Sherpa, Acedia, kurtis newman, Nhoxious, Little Sand, sediaz, Targaryen, King Scales, Kurgarraz.
You can read 50 chapters ahead of everyone on p@treon.
P@TREON - [email protected]/lessaservantofcosmos
(just replace the "@" with "a")
ps: Please support me on P@treon. I can really use your help!
————————————————————
An autumn wind swept through, tearing a few leaves from the trees. They curled and spun as they drifted past Fei Qian. For a moment, the atmosphere was desolate beyond measure...
Pang Tong cast a sidelong glance at the scene, then shook his head with an air of one deeply disappointed by a promising student's failure.
"Er... this... did I do something wrong?" Fei Qian was somewhat taken aback.
Pang Tong drawled slowly, "It's not that you did something wrong. It's that you did it too right."
Fei Qian blinked, shook his head, and said, "Regardless, what needed to be said has been said. And now that it's said, I should be going..."
He had pondered these matters for a long time, but in the end, he resolved that he had to speak clearly.
This was the code of conduct Fei Qian had learned in the later era, and it was perhaps somewhat at odds with the customs of the Han Dynasty. The closer the friendship, the more essential it was to be forthright.
Just as a business partnership split fifty-fifty between two people is the most prone to endless disputes and mutual obstructions, the bonds of friendship can act as a catalyst for progress, but can just as easily become a poison that destroys everything.
Even with one's own blood brother, accounts must be settled clearly. The clearer the accounts, the longer the brotherhood can endure. Once things become muddled, the brotherhood will not last long either.
What, then, was he to do in this Han Dynasty—forcibly drag people away and then wait for them to develop some kind of Stockholm Syndrome?
To abduct and spirit away Pang Tong, Guo Jia, Tian Feng, Zhuge Liang, and the rest before they could pledge themselves to other lords? Ha! The men of the Han Dynasty had mostly read the unadulterated works of Confucius. Repaying honesty with honesty and resentment with resentment was the most fundamental principle. Wielding a blade to kill was not a skill reserved solely for butchers.
Unless one kept them imprisoned for life, should even the smallest opportunity present itself...
Especially for strategists whose power lay in their wisdom, leading a man into a ditch was hardly a difficult task. Chen Gong, with just a few words, had incited the entire Yan Province to rebellion. Jia Xu, with a single sentence, had sealed the fates of the immensely powerful Dian Wei and Cao Ang.
Cao Cao had used Xu Shu's mother to ensnare him. Xu Shu was surely not unaware that even if he went to Cao Cao's camp, his mother might not live much longer. But in the end, he chose a path that left him with a clear conscience towards his kin, and left Liu Bei to go to Cao Cao's camp.
The outcome was not that Xu Shu refused to offer stratagems while in Cao Cao's camp, but that both Xu Shu and Cao Cao were intelligent men. They both understood the mutual distrust between them, and knew it was better to say nothing at all.
Thus, when Xu Shu, during the Red Cliffs campaign, proactively requested to be sent to a remote, frontier region, Cao Cao was overjoyed. He immediately lavished praise upon Xu Shu in front of everyone, then had him escorted away that very night under the stars...
It was not that Cao Cao truly believed the rumors, nor was he merely delighted by Xu Shu's initiative. It was that he finally had a legitimate, honorable reason to fling this troublesome eyesore—this ticking bomb that could detonate at any moment—far, far away to the northwestern borderlands. There, a single lieutenant could keep Xu Shu under strict watch. How could he not be happy?
Because Fei Qian felt that Pang Tong, Zao Zhi, Xu Shu, and Taishi Ming were, more or less, friends with whom he had truly lived together in this Han Dynasty, communicating, exchanging ideas, and clashing thoughts. If he did not speak plainly, his own conscience would be uneasy. As for whether they were willing to walk the same path together after he had spoken—that would depend on their own will.
Otherwise, even if he resorted to honeyed words or brute coercion, he might well fail to obtain the result he desired in the end.
Fei Qian cupped his hands in salute, then turned and walked away.
Pang Tong set down the scroll in his hands and called out, "When do you plan to return to Bingzhou?"
"In a couple of days. I still have some matters to attend to at the Huang family's secluded estate..."
Pang Tong grunted an acknowledgment and then, with his usual languor, returned to his book.
"By the way," Fei Qian raised his voice from a distance, "...I reckon that in a while, someone younger than you, and smarter than you, will be coming. Remember to give him my regards for me..."
Pang Tong froze for a moment, then let out an exceedingly self-assured "Tch!" and loudly declared, "If someone does come, give him regards I certainly will. But smarter than me... heh heh heh, hmph..."
"...Believe it... or not..." Fei Qian waved a hand dismissively and left.
×××××××××××××
Inside the study of the Huang family's secluded estate, Fei Qian and Huang Chengyan sat facing one another.
Upon the low table between them rested a wooden box. The box appeared to be divided into many compartments, and within each compartment lay various items.
The matter Fei Qian needed to handle with the Huang family was precisely this: artisans.
Men who knew papermaking. Men who knew iron-casting. Men who knew the crafting of tools and machinery. Broadly speaking, Fei Qian needed all of them, and the need was urgent.
Huang Chengyan's gaze lingered upon the items within the wooden box, a rare and indescribable light flickering in his eyes—like a connoisseur of fine wine beholding a jar of vintage spirits, or a lover of beauty glimpsing a peerless woman...
Huang Chengyan was himself exceedingly knowledgeable in the realm of craftsmanship. And so, when Fei Qian placed this box, carried across such a vast distance, before him, he was instantly captivated.
Within the wooden box were various minerals Fei Qian had collected in Bingzhou.
The two most prominent among them were coal and iron ore.
As early as the Qin Dynasty, coal had begun to enter the awareness of the Central Plains people. However, raw, unprocessed coal contained a great deal of impurities, particularly sulfur. Thus, when burned, it produced copious amounts of thick, black smoke, which the ancients found distasteful. For this reason, even now, charcoal remained the primary fuel.
Another reason coal had failed to garner sufficient attention was the difficulty of controlling its burn. It was not as simple as adding a few sticks of firewood or pieces of charcoal to visibly adjust the size of the flame.
But what Fei Qian now had inside the wooden box was coal that had already undergone a first stage of rough processing—a small, honeycomb-shaped briquette, mixed with a bit of clay and lime.
This was the simplest, yet most convenient, great invention for utilizing coal.
And then there was the iron ore.
The area around the Lüliang Mountains even held small deposits of copper ore...
Mica.
Limestone.
These ores filled the entire wooden box.
For Huang Chengyan, this single box was even more enticing than one filled to the brim with gold, silver, and precious jewels.
Huang Chengyan picked up the small honeycomb briquette and examined it closely in his palm. "This substance... is it mineral carbon?"
In the Han Dynasty, people were quite fond of coal—especially high-grade jet, which they also called "coal jade." Some even specifically used natural jet to carve personal seals, placing it on roughly the same level as colored glaze.
But ordinary coal dust drew little attention.
"How is this object made?" Huang Chengyan asked.
Fei Qian replied, "The coal is crushed, washed, and allowed to settle. The fine powder is then extracted, and mixed with yellow mud, clay, lime, and charcoal powder before being pressed into shape..."
Huang Chengyan called out towards the outside, instructing a servant to bring a brazier. He immediately placed the small honeycomb briquette into the brazier and ignited it on the spot. Then he simply sat there, watching in silence, as though something within his eyes danced and flickered along with the flames of the coal.
Huang Chengyan's expression turned solemn. "This object... how many know its method of manufacture?"
A thing like this, though simple, was often overlooked.
Coal, for a very long period of time, was used in the form of cinders and clumped balls as fuel for burning. Not only was it difficult to ignite, but incomplete combustion often led to the production of substances like carbon monoxide and sulfur dioxide.
Now, with combustion aids and desulfurizing agents added, and with the honeycomb's perforated structure ensuring the flow of air, combustion was naturally far more complete. Moreover, the sulfur dioxide was calcified during the burning process...
Fei Qian answered, "In the workshops of Pingyang, everything involving minerals and mechanical devices is overseen by Huang Dou... Nowadays, with affairs so numerous and burdensome, he is somewhat overwhelmed and has grown terribly thin..."
Huang Chengyan was momentarily stunned, then burst into laughter. "Good! Good!"
Ah? Getting thin was a good thing? What did that mean? Could it be that Huang Chengyan also possessed the latent qualities of a merciless slave-driver?