Chapter 82: The Yan Man Produces a Leopard

…

“Shishi? With the surname Li, that’s Li Shishi.”

“Li Shishi?!!!”

Zhang Chun stared at the girl who, among a sea of palace maids, still stood out to her at a glance: “Are you truly the number one courtesan in history, Li Shishi?”

Seeing that Li Shishi, at only around ten years old, already possessed a beauty and aura that overshadowed all others, Zhang Chun guessed she must be the very courtesan who had haunted Zhao Ji’s dreams, causing him to neglect state affairs and even dig secret tunnels just to meet her in secret.

At this moment, Li Lin, Ye Shi Yun, Ma Xiao Jiao, and Yuan Qing Cheng also gathered around.

Yes.

They didn’t understand history well.

But even if they were ignorant, they must have heard of Li Shishi’s name.

Yet they couldn’t be certain whether this Li Shishi was the same one they knew.

Zhang Chun asked calmly: “Shishi, who are you?”

Li Shishi replied calmly: “Your servant does not know. Since childhood, I was sold into the Fan Tower. Recently, the Fan Tower lured Prince Duan, triggering a series of incidents that shook the court and the realm. Upon hearing this, the late emperor flew into a rage and ordered the tower sealed. All of us were assigned to the Imperial Music Bureau. Later, the Ministry of Rites selected palace maids for His Majesty, and we all applied. After multiple rounds of screening, I was fortunate enough to be chosen to serve in the palace.”

“The Li Shishi from Fan Tower—then it’s definitely her!”

Zhang Chun was overjoyed: “The Ministry of Rites officials did well—they actually selected Li Shishi for the palace! I’ll have to tell Zhao Yu about this and reward them handsomely!”

Although Li Lin and the other three women couldn’t determine whether this Li Shishi was the same legendary courtesan they knew, they knew Zhang Chun could tell.

Seeing Zhang Chun’s expression of having found a treasure, they instantly realized: this delicate, otherworldly girl, barely ten years old yet already radiating a beauty that could topple nations, was none other than the famed courtesan Li Shishi of history.

Their eyes sparkled with astonishment and curiosity: “It really is Li Shishi! No wonder such a young girl is so captivating—this number one courtesan in history truly lives up to her name!”

Ye Shi Yun immediately pouted, shaking Zhang Chun’s arm: “I regret it, Pure-sis! Give Shishi back to me, okay? Fine, I’ll go back to being your nominal maid.”

“Get lost,” Zhang Chun said, pulling Li Shishi into her arms. “You’ve already been thrown out.”

After some playful bickering, Zhang Chun, Li Lin, Ye Shi Yun, and Yuan Qing Cheng each chose four personal maids and ten laboring palace girls, following Ma Xiao Jiao’s standard—each group surrounded by attendants, leaving a trail of fragrance wherever they went.

Afterwards, Pei Sui assigned living quarters to the four women.

Here, the four women voluntarily chose the corner where Ma Xiao Jiao stayed—the area near Guan Jia Palace and Qin Can Palace—convenient for both their duties and mutual support.

After that, the four women received all the privileges they were entitled to, living the life of ease they had always dreamed of: clothes handed to them, meals served to them.

—Since Zhao Yu had not yet assigned them specific ranks, Pei Sui had initially arranged for them according to Ma Xiao Jiao’s standard, and would later seek formal approval from Zhao Yu and Zheng Xiansu.

In short, now that they were by Zhao Yu’s side, the four women had finally crossed class boundaries—from palace maids to the Emperor’s women, entitled to wealth and splendor.

To celebrate, the five women had another hot pot of lamb.

During the meal, they sent their personal maids away and freely sang and danced.

After exhausting themselves, they began recalling life in their original world.

Finally, all five agreed: they could never go back—but their current life was bearable, and they could still change this world, realizing their own value and dreams.

Afternoon.

Ma Xiao Jiao took the four women, now full-fed and entertained, to her workshop: Qin Can Palace.

To their surprise, the small palace was packed from inside to outside with objects, and hundreds of people bustled in chaotic yet orderly fashion across various zones.

Ma Xiao Jiao proudly introduced: “This is only a small part—I have many more subordinates and tools at Shen Wang’s mansion, and I often have to return to check on them.”

Zhang Chun asked incredulously: “You can leave the palace?!”

“I can, yes—but palace rules are numerous and strict. Leaving requires planning: I must first inform Pei Sui, who coordinates with various departments to arrange guards, attendants, and carriages. I can only go to Shen Wang’s mansion, and even if I want to buy something on the way, I must consult the eunuchs accompanying me. It’s nowhere near as simple as asking the Emperor directly. So unless something truly urgent arises that they can’t handle, I won’t go.” Ma Xiao Jiao sighed.

Zhang Chun knew well how difficult it was for imperial consorts to leave the palace—and for someone like Ma Xiao Jiao to leave whenever she pleased, it was nearly impossible.

In this era, imperial consorts were generally forbidden from leaving the palace unless under special circumstances: participating in rituals, being granted rare permission to visit family, or accompanying the Emperor himself.

In any case, their departure required strict ceremonial protocols and heavy escort, with rigid rules governing time, personnel, and conduct—all to ensure the dignity and safety of the imperial house.

For someone like Ma Xiao Jiao to leave whenever she wished? That was unparalleled favor—unheard of in precedent.

Yet here she was, looking reluctant—wasting the extraordinary privilege Zhao Yu had granted her.

Zhang Chun said enviously: “Zhao Yu treats you too well.”

Ma Xiao Jiao replied: “It’s fine. Whatever I ask for, as long as it exists in this era, he sends people to find it for me. But that’s because I treat him well too—I’ve devoted myself entirely to his inventions, given him children, and completely abandoned jealousy. Now, no matter who he sleeps with, I don’t care—as long as he comes when I call. Tell me, where else could he find a wife like me?”

Zhang Chun sneered: “In my previous life, yes—you’re right. But in this life, it’s Zhao Yu favoring you. Otherwise, how could you live so happily?”

Hearing Ma Xiao Jiao could leave the palace at will, Li Lin’s eyes lit up: “Jiao-jiao, when you go out next time, can you take us? Let us see the outside world!”

Yuan Qing Cheng immediately agreed: “Yes! Let us see it too. If not for our changed bodies and ages, I’d think I hadn’t crossed over—I’d think I’d fallen into ‘The Truman Show.’”

Zhang Chun and Ye Shi Yun were also deeply tempted.

But Ma Xiao Jiao shook her head: “In the past, this wouldn’t have been an issue—I’d just tell the Emperor and he’d let you go. But now it’s complicated.”

“Why’s it complicated?” Li Lin asked.

“I used to travel out often, but the censors found out and submitted a memorial against me. Just yesterday, the large factory I had built beside Qingcheng’s land was partially completed, so I’ve already moved everything there. From now on, I won’t leave the palace—it’s too much trouble.” Ma Xiao Jiao explained.

The four women were crestfallen.

Seeing this, Ma Xiao Jiao said: “Don’t be so down. If you make the Emperor happy, won’t you have chances to leave too?”

The four women realized: if Ma Xiao Jiao could leave, why couldn’t they? They were all Zhao Yu’s women.

Ma Xiao Jiao beckoned: “Come, I’ll show you what my team is currently developing.”

First, Ma Xiao Jiao led them to a large irrigation cart and said: “This is the Emperor’s favorite invention—the Mu Niu Liu Ma Irrigation Cart.”

Then, lowering her voice, she told the four women: “It’s essentially a hydraulic-linked agricultural system.”

“Agriculture in this era relies on manual irrigation—inefficient, especially in southern paddy fields requiring frequent water diversion.”

“I designed a ‘foot-tread chain-driven waterwheel’ centered on water power to automatically lift water, paired with bamboo pipelines to channel it to terraced fields or dry land.”

“I added a ‘gear-linked rice-pounding machine’—so while irrigating, it drives stone pestles to pound rice, achieving ‘one water, two uses.’”

Then Ma Xiao Jiao revealed her proudest innovation: “I mounted a wooden-carved windmill on top. When water turns the windmill, it activates wooden figures that strike gongs to alert farmers of water-level changes—practical and entertaining. Isn’t it brilliant?”

The four women silently thought: “That part’s clearly the most useless.”

Ma Xiao Jiao continued: “According to my calculations, the Mu Niu Liu Ma Irrigation Cart saves at least fifty percent of irrigation labor, increases rice yields, and my gear transmission technology can inspire civilian mechanical improvements, advancing handicrafts.”

Ma Xiao Jiao then showed the four women many other inventions—some useful, some merely playful, some outright useless.

Soon, Ma Xiao Jiao brought them to a loom and introduced: “This is the foot-tread multi-heddle, multi-shuttle weaving machine…”

The dominant fabrics of this era were silk and hemp; southern regions had small amounts of cotton, but its fibers were short and hard to spin.

Cotton (i.e., herb cotton) had not yet been widely introduced to the Central Plains, though some in the northwest had begun planting it.

Zhao Yu knew of this, so he had offered rewards to find herb cotton.

In fact, textile machines already existed: the traditional slant loom and the brocade loom.

The former was widely used but required two people—one to lift heddles, one to throw the shuttle—making it inefficient.

The latter was used for complex silk weaving but relied on manual memory of patterns, making operation tedious.

Both machines were time-consuming, labor-intensive, and produced coarse cloth.

Moreover, if Zhao Yu succeeded in promoting cotton, there would be no efficient textile tools to match it.

Ma Xiao Jiao increased the number of treadles and used connecting rods to control heddle lifting, enabling a single person to operate this new loom. It also employed bamboo-wood gear transmission to accelerate heddle switching.

Roughly speaking, Ma Xiao Jiao’s improved loom increased efficiency two to threefold, drastically lowering labor costs and laying the foundation for future cotton textile breakthroughs.

Additionally, Ma Xiao Jiao was developing modular spinning wheels and water-powered twisting machines.

In short, as Ma Xiao Jiao said, if Zhao Yu could ensure large-scale cotton cultivation, she could provide the technological support to bring the Northern Song a century ahead into the “cotton cloth era,” transforming the people’s reliance on hemp.

Increased production of quality cloth could also boost silk and cotton exports along the Maritime Silk Road, allowing the court to gain new revenue through “loom taxes” or monopolies.

Crucially, this would make it easier for women to participate in textile production, lower clothing costs, enhance civilians’ ability to withstand cold, and indirectly improve population resilience against disasters.

Of course, achieving this level was not easy.

Currently, land was held by high officials, scholar-gentry families, and wealthy clans who preferred leasing land for high rents rather than improving cultivation techniques. Peasants wanted to improve, but lacked the means.

As a result, existing land barely sustained the current population—there was no surplus land to grow cotton on a large scale.

Therefore, promoting cotton cultivation without land reform and improved land efficiency would cause problems.

Zhao Yu understood this clearly.

Of course, small-scale planting was fine.

According to Zhao Yu’s plan, first develop and promote these inventions—the market would eventually find its own balance.

After touring Ma Xiao Jiao’s labs with the four women, they finally understood what “Yanren chu baozi” meant. While they had been stuck, doing nothing, Ma Xiao Jiao had already accomplished so much.

This prompted the four women to reflect.

“Are we worse than Jiao-jiao?”

“No—we simply didn’t have Zhao Yu’s strong support before.”

“The key isn’t us or Jiao-jiao—it’s Zhao Yu. Without his backing, we’re doomed to accomplish nothing. But with his full support, we can achieve our value and dreams just like Jiao-jiao.”

Along with Ma Xiao Jiao, the four women all thought: “We must find a way to win Zhao Yu over—make him serve us!”

…

Same afternoon.

Zhang Dun returned to Chuigong Palace, saying that after reflection, he believed Sima Guang and others’ treasonous acts must be punished—confiscating their property and exterminating their clans, otherwise they could not honor the fallen soldiers on the frontlines. He handed Zhao Yu a list: every name on it had supported ceding Song territory to the Xia. He said even execution wouldn’t be enough—but confiscation and clan extermination were too lenient.

Zhao Yu looked at the list: “Damn, hundreds of names—and Su Zhe, former chancellor of the old faction, is right there.”

Zhao Yu thought: “You’re trying to wipe out all your political rivals.”

Zhao Yu immediately pushed the list back without a word.

Zhang Dun knew Zhao Yu hadn’t changed his mind—he was merely cautious of Empress Xiang, and didn’t want to launch a massive purge right after taking power, destabilizing his already shaky throne.

Just over an hour later, Zhang Dun returned again.

This time, the list had only a hundred names.

Zhao Yu still refused.

Zhang Dun returned and conferred again with Cai Bian and others; by nightfall, only fifty remained.

Zhao Yu pondered: he couldn’t let Zhang Dun and the others return empty-handed—otherwise, why would they exert themselves next time?

Thus, Zhao Yu cross-referenced the list of officials Li Yan had confirmed as corrupt with the list Zhang Dun had given him, circling nine names, adding Sima Guang to make ten; he then personally wrote down three more names of the most egregious corrupt officials and held them up for Zhang Dun to see.

Then Zhao Yu tossed the list into the brazier beside him…

…

(End of Chapter)