Chapter 207: The Princess and the Artisan Brush Past

Half a month later, one to the south, one to the north, two strange detachments set out at the same time.

The detachment departing from Kaifeng was the escort for Princess Yongning's wedding. This time, the entourage was larger than before, its leader actually being the current Minister of Rites, Pei Zheng. The emperor's gifts filled a full hundred carts—gold and silver jewels, fine silks and brocades, everything imaginable—making the spectacle more splendid than that of a true princess's marriage.

Everyone understood: this was the emperor expressing his utmost favor to all, especially to the newly promoted Marquis of Investigating Things.

The escort marched, playing music, and met up with Princess Yongning's party.

Inside the phoenix palanquin, Princess Yongning Zhao Jing leaned quietly against the soft cushion.

On her face, the fear she had felt upon seeing firearms was gone, replaced by a calm, an almost resigned calm.

She still remembered that, before departure, the emperor had secretly summoned her.

Without many words, the emperor personally poured her a cup of wine and then told her: 'From now on, you belong to the Wang family. Your honor and disgrace are shared with the Wang family. But remember, your roots lie with the Zhao family, in Kaifeng.'

She understood.

The emperor's meaning was: if the Wang family behaved, she would be a noble marchioness, a symbol of the friendship between the imperial house and the Wangs; if the Wang family stirred, she… would be the sword hanging over Wang Che's head, and the first sacrifice to be offered.

She was a pawn, a pawn wrapped in endless glory and wealth.

Her gaze fell on a small sandalwood box beside her. It was something the empress had secretly slipped to her before departure. Inside was not precious jewelry, but an exquisitely made carrier pigeon and several rolls of paper as thin as a cicada's wing.

Zhao Jing gently stroked the wooden box, her heart filled with icy chill.

She knew her mission. She would be the emperor's eyes planted in the Wang family.

……

At the same time, departing from Yangzhou was a convoy that seemed utterly unremarkable.

Ten ordinary blue-cloth carriages, escorted only by a few dozen Wang family guards front and rear. On board sat ten 'master artisans' handpicked by Wang Che, along with their luggage.

Leading them was a senior artisan from the Science Academy named Wang De. In his forties, silent and reserved, his hands were covered in thick calluses and scars.

Before departure, Wang Che personally saw them off.

The spot was right beside the Science Academy's massive No. 3 Steam Engine.

Wang Che uttered no empty talk about loyalty to the ruler and service to the nation; he merely pointed to the new machine running smoothly, emitting a deep, powerful roar, and said to Wang De: 'Uncle De, when we reach Kaifeng, the emperor will ask you what a steam engine is.'

Just tell him that what you've built is this.

Wang De glanced at the brand‑new, immensely complex No. 3 machine, then recalled the old No. 2 diagram he had memorized, and nodded silently.

The emperor will ask you how to build a better steam engine.

Just tell him you need better iron, better coal, better artisans. As for how to smelt better iron, where to find better coal, how to train better artisans… say you don't know; you're merely workers following the head of family's blueprints.

'What if he pressures you? Threatens your families' lives?' Wang Che asked, looking into his eyes.

Wang De split his mouth open, revealing teeth yellowed by tobacco smoke; his smile was plain and resolute.

'Rest easy, head of family. Our kin are all in the fort, under your protection—safer a hundredfold than being in the imperial palace at Kaifeng. Our lives were given by the Wang family. When we get there, we know what to say and what not to. If worse comes to worst, we lose our heads and bear a bowl‑sized scar. Even eighteen years from now, we'll still be the Wang family's artisans.'

Wang Che slapped his shoulder heavily.

'Good! I'll be waiting for you to return!'

He looked at these ten most loyal scions of the family, knowing clearly that though they went as 'master artisans,' they were in fact hostages. They would use their wit and loyalty to lay a great bewildering formation for the Wang family in Kaifeng.

The emperor thought he had obtained the art of dragon‑slaying, but in fact he had merely gotten a dragon's toy—a toy that could make him obsess, draining countless resources and energy, yet never let him grasp its core.

And the Wang family would use the time he spent obsessed with that toy to accomplish true dragon‑slaying.

The convoy slowly drove out of Yangzhou.

Wang De sat in the carriage, lifted the curtain, and took one last look at the towering fort. He knew he did not know when, after this departure, he would be able to return.

After several days on the road, while crossing a river, they unexpectedly encountered the south‑bound imperial escort.

The official road was not wide; on one side stretched the grand imperial procession with banners flying, on the other a ordinary, dust‑laden merchant convoy.

By rule, the Wang family convoy must pull to the side, everyone disembark, kneel on the ground, and respectfully make way for the princess's phoenix palanquin.

Wang De, together with the other nine artisans, knelt honestly in the mud, not daring to raise his head.

The enormous phoenix palanquin glided slowly past beside them.

Inside the carriage, Wang De could smell the costly incense wafting from the palanquin, and even hear the faint sound of the wheels rolling over the ground.

And inside the palanquin, Zhao Jing, through a gap in the curtains, saw the people kneeling by the roadside.

She saw them dressed in plain artisan garb, skin dark, hands covered in old calluses. She knew these were the mysterious artisans the Wang family had presented to the father emperor as a 'gift,' wielding that 'divine' ability.

She watched them as they knelt on the ground.

At that moment, a princess about to become a caged bird and a group of artisans about to enter another cage brushed past each other.

Their fates, because of the contest between two men, were tightly bound together.

No one spoke.

When the phoenix palanquin had gone far, Wang De then led the people to rise, brushed dust from his knees, and climbed back onto the carriage.

'Let's go.' he said lightly to the driver.

The carriage continued north.

The wheels rolled on, grinding over dust, racing toward the imperial center known as Kaifeng.