Chapter 142: Must Be Very Fond

After hearing this, Yun Xiang asked, “Is he really an Immortal?”

Her tone held a note of uncertainty.

Tong Zhihuan and Tao’er exchanged a glance.

Tao’er inquired, “Didn’t Miss Yun know already? Why ask now?”

Yun Xiang paused, then shook her head. “I just think…”

She suddenly found herself struggling to explain.

After a moment of hesitation, she managed only two words: “Seems not.”

These two words seemed to define Mr. Chen – that enigmatic figure who seemed like an Immortal but wasn’t, leaving people bewildered.

He brushed against the ethereal, yet never quite embraced it.

Hearing these words, Tong Zhihuan also paused.

Indeed.

Mr. Chen drank the mortal world’s crude wine, ate simple meals of wild herbs boiled with rice, and even worried over mere ounces of silver… such ordinary things he did were countless…

Tong Zhihuan thought to himself, perhaps it was precisely because of these things that his respect for Mr. Chen came from the heart, pure reverence, not fearful awe.

Both spoke of respect, yet they were worlds apart.

Tong Zhihuan snapped back to attention. “Actually, whether he is or isn’t, Mr. Chen is simply Mr. Chen.”

Hearing this, Yun Xiang paused briefly before nodding.

Indeed. Mr. Chen seemed ordinary, yet standing amidst a vast sea of people, one might spot him in an instant. Utterly common. Yet as the saying goes, extreme commonness embodies the highest elegance. Perhaps it was this that made him so uniquely distinct.

By noon, the snow in the mountain stream had lessened a little.

Before leaving, Yun Xiang lit three incense sticks in the temple. Kneeling on the prayer cushion, she whispered her prayers—unknown to others, but heartfelt wishes nonetheless.

Tao’er, worried about the slippery road in the snow, accompanied them all the way down the mountain.

At the mountain’s foot, Yun Xiang spoke, “This is far enough now. Physician Tong, if you have time, do visit Yan County. Brother Tang has been terribly busy lately, otherwise he’d have come along.”

Tong Zhihuan replied readily, “I certainly will.”

Yun Xiang nodded, then turned to Miss Tao’er. “The weather’s cold, Sister Tao’er. In the future, please wear thicker clothes, so you don’t catch cold.”

Tao’er was taken aback. “I’m not afraid of the cold.”

“But you still should wear them,” Yun Xiang insisted.

Tao’er and Tong Zhihuan watched her board the carriage.

The carriage rolled away. Thankfully, the snow wasn’t heavy; otherwise, returning would have been difficult.

Tao’er watched the departing carriage, recalling the smile she had seen on Miss Yun’s face earlier.

She murmured softly, “This Miss Yun… she’s truly something else too…”

Tong Zhihuan turned to her. “How so?”

“Whether she speaks or acts, she gives people a refreshing feeling. A kind of indescribable goodness.”

Tao’er frowned, trying to find the right words. She seemed stumped.

Tong Zhihuan suggested, “Gentle as water?”

Tao’er shook her head. “That’s partly true, but it feels like something’s missing.”

Tong Zhihuan pondered but couldn’t come up with anything either.

In the end, finding no answer, they turned and headed back up the mountain once the carriage was out of sight.

That afternoon, someone sent parcels up the mountain.

Alongside quilts and thick winter clothes, there was a large packet of preserved fruit.

One didn’t need to guess to know these things were sent by Miss Yun.

Tao’er watched the boxes being carried in and asked, turning, “All these are gifts from Miss Yun?”

“I imagine so,” Tong Zhihuan said. “This Miss Yun… she is remarkably generous.”

“It’s Mr. Chen’s influence we’re benefiting from,” Tao’er remarked.

Tong Zhihuan nodded. “I just wonder what exactly this young lady’s relationship with Mr. Chen is.”

“Didn’t she say Mr. Chen taught her to read?”

“It probably isn’t that simple,” Tong Zhihuan countered. “From what I see, Miss Yun must be pretty fond of Mr. Chen.”

Miss Tao’er shook her head. “It doesn’t quite seem like that. Saying yes isn’t entirely right, but saying no… isn’t quite it either.”

Tong Zhihuan paused, confused. “So… which is it? Is she, or isn’t she?”

“I can’t really say,” Tao’er admitted.

Tong Zhihuan thought for a moment, then looked at Tao’er. “Like… when we first met?”

Miss Tao’er was silent for a beat, then laughed softly. “You could put it that way.”

“And now?” Tong Zhihuan asked.

“Now what?”

“Us.”

“Silly.”

“What? Why call me silly again?”

“Silly, silly, silly, silly…”

Tong Zhihuan gave a helpless smile. He paused again suddenly and said:

“Other things, I don’t know. But as for Miss Tao’er…”

He stopped mid-sentence, looking directly at her. “Tong should be… ten times out of ten fond.”

Tao’er froze, meeting his gaze.

She gave him a reproachful look, then quickly turned her head away.

She didn’t know why, but her face flushed.

This had never happened before.

It was all that silly fellow’s fault.

.

.

The second year of Xinglong.

The world gradually settled into peace. The turbulence between the fall of the old dynasty and the rise of the new was slowly subsiding. Some refugees from the Jing Era returned to their original places of registration, but more remained in the south.

Although Xiang merchants had re-opened the trade routes south, the status of Jing people remained beneath that of Xiang people in the world as it now stood.

Since many Jing people roamed the south, discrimination arose between the north and the south. Xiang people looked down on Jing people, and Jing people disdained to associate with Xiang people. Terms like “southern barbarians” even began to appear.

Because of this, conflicts between Jing people and Xiang people were frequent.

Zhao Zhen, at first, paid little mind to these troubles.

With the internal strife suppressed and the remaining rebels eliminated, his focus was entirely on Northern Mang to the north.

It was the territory he had lost. It was also the greatest humiliation since his ascension to the throne.

An idea suddenly struck Zhao Zhen. He immediately sent a secret edict summoning his ministers for discussion.

“Your Majesty, it must not be! Great Xiang has only just found a modicum of stability. If we rush north now, it could invite catastrophe!”

“Your Majesty, we implore you to reconsider!”

Zhao Zhen dismissed their concerns. “This king did not summon you for discussion,” he declared. “I summoned you to draft a plan.”

Despite fierce opposition from many officials, Zhao Zhen stubbornly pushed ahead, finalizing a series of measures.

First: the matter of registration. All original registries from the Jing Era would be destroyed. The status of being a “Jing” person no longer existed. All were now citizens of Great Xiang.

Beyond this, a more crucial point: conscription!

Zhao Zhen wanted to raise enough troops within the year. Come the spring of Xinglong’s third year, he would march north to reclaim his lost territory!

But given the current state of affairs, recruiting soldiers was far from easy.

The Northern Frontier had many Xiang people, so recruitment there met with some success. But the Southern Region proved a constant setback. A recruitment sweep yielded less than one-tenth the number of soldiers gathered in the northern reaches.

Zhao Zhen was furious over this. “So ungrateful!”

He first increased taxes by ten percent. But calming down, he thought—he couldn’t risk another “Northern Mang.” So, he issued another decree.

[General tax increase: twenty percent. Exemption granted only to households with men enrolled in the army.]

In simple terms: use your life in exchange for a full belly!