Chapter 59

Holy Monk 25 (All-Powerful Big Boss Dad)

The grassland wasn't only home to Jiang He the monk; occasionally other monks would come over to discuss scriptures with him.

Having a peer for comparison, Jiang Si Yin discovered his father was an exceptionally successful monk; it seemed there was no scripture he didn't know, and no monk he couldn't defeat in debate.

At some point, Jiang Si Yin's mind would always be hazy, recalling some scenes: a disheartened, sorrowful man and a woman with a sickly face; their gazes toward him were always kind yet sorrowful.

Unlike the monk father of now, he was composed, confident, and also strong.

So he became a monk in order to achieve a strong self?

In the morning, when Jiang Si Yin woke up, he stared blankly at the color of the tent above him, recalling the scene he had seen in his dream.

He knew that the scene in his dream was probably a memory from before, his memories before age seven being dark and obscure, not so beautiful.

So he still didn't quite understand why his biological father had become a monk back then.

While he was spacing out, he heard the monk father ask at the door: "Ba Tu, are you up? The oats have been harvested; do you want to go together?"

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Jiang Si Yin hurriedly replied, no longer letting his mind wander, got up immediately, and hastily put on his clothes.

Autumn on the grassland is very cold; he now wears a sheepskin coat, its fluffy wool collar setting off his pale, delicate, lovely little face, making him endearing to look at.

Harvesting the oats was a great joy; almost everyone from the Auspicious Day Tribe came, even people from other tribes, all gathering in the oat field, chattering excitedly.

At that moment, someone exclaimed: "Quick, look, the Chanyu has arrived!"

Shuwu Chanyu arrived under the escort of the princes; his large beard could not conceal his ruddy complexion, and his steps remained strong, which left the rival Black Bear Tribe people thoroughly disappointed.

It was previously said that his intestines were blocked, making bowel movements painful; supposedly to reduce the frequency, he ate less, causing him to grow thin.

But now there is no sign of his bodily weakness; he looks as if he could live another ten or twenty years.

Jiang He seemingly glanced casually at the spy sent by the Black Bear Tribe, smiled faintly, and hid his talents and fame.

Grassland people eat meat year-round, favoring dried meat, roasted meat, etc.; stewed meat is rare. When grassland folk grow old, being able to keep a good set of teeth is as rare as a phoenix feather and unicorn horn, so in the eyes of these Hu people, not being able to eat means being old.

The earlier thinness of Shuwu Chanyu was due not only to constipation but also to his teeth no longer being firm, making it hard for him to eat tough roasted meat.

After Jiang He arrived on the grassland, he not only treated his illness but also freely gave many recipes to the eldest prince; needless to say, the stewed meat that melts in the mouth goes without saying, but even tofu alone is popular among the Hu people with bad teeth, and soy milk and tofu pudding are nourishing; Shuwu Chanyu being nourished to a ruddy complexion is hardly surprising.

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If the old Chanyu were to die, his most beloved eldest prince would surely turn against the second and third princes; then the Iron Full Tribe would split due to the princes' internal strife, and a divided Iron Full Tribe would be nothing to fear.

Unfortunately, because Shuwu Chanyu is still alive and well, their wish has not come true.

"Master, I've had the scale brought." Shuwu Chanyu, full of heroic vigor, waved his strong fists, "Planting oats on the grassland is a first; today I have my sons help harvest the oats, hoping the grassland will never lack grain again."

The Chanyu's words made the surrounding Hu people's blood boil.

The people regard food as heaven; the main guarantee of survival is ample food, and being full and well-fed is everyone's dream.

The people sent by the Black Bear Tribe shifted their gaze from Shuwu Chanyu to that patch of oats.

They stared intently at that oat field, their excitement no less than that of the Iron Full Tribe people.

Nomads are a mobile people, moving with water and grass; wherever there is lush vegetation they migrate, and with many cattle and sheep, the grassland has many overgrazed spots; if they encounter a drought like the past two years, livestock would die off in droves, but if oats can be cultivated, as long as it isn't a widespread drought, they will survive.

Today Sang Ya also came; she and Jiang Si Yin each held a sickle, eager to get to work.

Sang Ya glanced at Jiang Si Yin and said, "Ba Tu, don't go in there; your clothes aren't suitable today." This outfit is really exquisite; it would be a shame to get it dirty.

Jiang Si Yin felt helpless, "Sister Sang Ya, I can't go in even if I wanted to! Look, there are so many people here; if each person cuts two bundles, they'd be gone."

The field's edge was equally crowded with people, eyeing his sickle tigerishly, waiting for him to put it down so they could snatch it away.

He had previously told this group of buddies to come try harvesting oats as well, after all, the chance to harvest grain alongside the Chanyu is too rare to pass up.

"Our family also planted a small patch of oats." Sang Ya said with a smile, "It will be ready to harvest in two days; Ba Tu, you should come too."

That small plot isn't big, after all the seeds were scarce; Sang Ya's mother had to owe many favors to obtain it.

If we use the harvest as seed, next year we will have lots and lots of oats.

Jiang Si Yin's buddies on the grassland shouted excitedly, taking turns going into the field to each reap several bundles.

The Hu people around who came for the fun, if they got the chance, would go into the field to reap a bundle; at that moment laughter filled the surroundings around the oat field, it was extremely lively.

Finally, all the oats were harvested; this was the segment everyone had most looked forward to.

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This yield would be considered not bad even in the Central Plains, let alone grain grown in this water-scarce grassland.

The grassland is vast and sparsely populated, with large areas overgrazed by cattle and sheep; if those wastelands were all planted with oats, plus their livestock, their lives would certainly be better than those of Central Plains people.

The Hu people aren't stupid either; they excitedly held up the oats.

Next year they will plant this; if each person can cultivate three mu, not only will people have food, but the oat stalks can feed livestock, which will also have feed in winter, so they won't starve.

Jiang He ruthlessly shattered everyone's dream: "Chanyu, this poor monk is skilled at farming, yielding only three and a half dan; the nomads aren't good at farming, so their yield might fall short."

The Chanyu still couldn't hide his excitement: "More than two dan is enough; we still have cattle and sheep."

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Nomads are talented in song and martial arts; they gather together to sing and dance, celebrating this harvest festival. Today the Chanyu also stays in the Auspicious Day Tribe, sitting in the seat of honor, enjoying the food, watching the performances, and occasionally joining the common folk in merrymaking.

Seeing this, the Black Bear Tribe people felt even more disappointed; looking at the old Chanyu jumping about so joyfully, he might still live another ten years or more.

"Father Prince, the fragrant tofu is delicious." The eldest prince placed several pieces of fragrant tofu for the Chanyu.

Tofu quickly became all the rage across the grassland; this time the eldest prince also asked Jiang He to buy many related recipes and plenty of seasonings, which were naturally purchased from Central Plains caravans; now many people on the grassland wish to be invited by the eldest prince to dine at his home, because delicious tofu is more than enough.

After the Chanyu took a bite of fragrant tofu, he brought out a bowl of stinky tofu, saying, "I think stinky tofu tastes even better."

He had been addicted to eating fragrant tofu, until stinky tofu appeared.

At first the Chanyu also disliked its smell, but after tentatively trying a bite, he was instantly amazed and couldn't stop.

The third prince sitting nearby, upon smelling the stinky tofu, instinctively held his breath.

He had yet another reason to dislike Monk Xuanji: such foul food, he actually made it?! Making it would be forgivable, but his father the emperor actually loves it to death?!

The third prince is a fastidious person; just being near his father now is unbearable, that smell is truly too foul!

The eldest prince actually thought it was nothing; although he didn't like eating stinky tofu, he didn't dislike it either.

Moreover, there are plenty of stinky-tofu lovers on the grasslands; these could bring him business, so he certainly wouldn't dislike it.

The Chanyu ate stinky tofu, watching the reactions of his several sons.

His gaze toward the eldest son was especially gentle; on the grasslands, wolf culture prevails—when the wolf king grows old, a new king will challenge for the throne, and the fate of the deposed old wolf king is of no concern to anyone; in people's eyes, only the victor matters.

Perhaps because he lost his mother at a young age, the eldest prince was raised single-handedly by the Chanyu; unlike other children who only think of seizing power, this child values him more—whether it's tofu or many soft, mushy recipes, they are all specially sought out for him by this child.

Central Plains culture emphasizes filial piety, but the young Chanyu always scoffed at it, for on the grasslands only strength matters—what's wrong with abandoning those who need to be supported by the young when food is scarce?

But as the Chanyu grew older day by day and his appetite worsened day by day, he began to panic.

The Chanyu never told anyone that he had truly felt the summons of Eternal Heaven.

Having tasted the flavor of power, the old wolf king does not want to step down, nor does he want to be driven out by the new wolf king.

Only then did the Chanyu finally realize how wonderful it is to have a filial son; even in his old age, he does not wish to be abandoned.

The Chanyu's gaze toward his second and third sons was deep; these two sons are growing stronger and stronger, and if the eldest seeks the throne, they will surely act against him.

While attending to the Chanyu, the eldest prince's eyes inadvertently swept over his disgust for his father eating stinky tofu and his two distant younger brothers, and he smirked coldly in his heart.

He has recently been studying the history of the Central Plains, especially the history of crown princes ascending to power, and only now did he realize that nine out of ten crown princes fail to ascend—his situation is truly perilous.

But as long as his father values him most in his heart, he will be in an invincible position.

"Father, in a few days the oats will be dried; Master Xuanji says he will set aside a small amount for us to try." The eldest prince said with an expectant face, "Master Xuanji says the pastries made from oats are delicious, and the noodles are superb; once we plant more next year, we can eat whatever we want."

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He had once eaten noodles made by Central Plains people, specifically mutton noodles, and that flavor was truly fragrant!

When he was young he could still endure this craving, but now that he is old, his teeth are bad and he can't eat hard things; each time he recalls the deliciousness of that bowl of mutton noodles, he feels especially uneasy.

The Chanyu said with a solemn expression: "The intelligence from our spies in the capital of Daqing has returned—Master Bing Xuanji was scolded by that group of Central Plains people."

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Jiang He, as a father, really wanted to tell his child that nobody wants to wear a green hat, but he only smiled and said, "As long as you're happy."

After all, the vegetarian meat made by the monk father from tofu is exactly the same taste as real meat, and even tastier; he feels he could eat tofu that tastes like meat for a lifetime!

Jiang Siyin loves cleanliness, but given the environment, the white wool quickly turns gray, which he simply cannot tolerate.

"Just read it, then let your dad write a few more!" the parrot said dismissively.

Whether candles or oil lamps, they are rare items on the grasslands, but to Master Xuanji they are nothing special.

After returning in spring, he and Manager Zhang opened snack shops in various cities of Daqing; because they have mutual understanding, the two families have grown ever closer, and they have agreed to set out together for the Hu lands in autumn.

Upon hearing this, the Hu women beamed with delight and hurried to line up.

"Collect, collect, collect!" Manager Zhang said with a beaming smile, "Go line up over there; the wool is priced by the jin."

His feelings toward the emperor of the Central Plains are very complicated.

Jiang He involuntarily paused, causing the needle to prick into the flesh; a drop of blood rolled out, he showed no change in expression, flicked away that blood, continued sewing, and calmly asked, "Why must it be green?"

The bumper harvest of oats also gave them hope for life.

The eldest prince immediately set his mind at ease and laughed, "The son originally worried that the master was a spy sent by the Central Plains—that notion is ridiculous; a person as talented as the master, who would send someone of great talent to be a spy? If a spy could bring grain to the grasslands, we would welcome however many such spies came."

The eldest prince quickly figured out the connection: "Is it because of the black feather grass and the oats?"

They chattered away, asking, "Do you still buy wool? We've stored a lot."

His caravan brought the goods most loved by the Hu people of the grasslands—tea, sugar, salt, spices, and so on—as well as some rouge and powder favored by Hu nobles.

Jiang He glanced at him, a smile appearing in his eyes, "Father has gathered some plants that can be used for dye."

Who would have thought that such a brave and battle-hardened man would be all show; unlike him, he has a multitude of sons, and because there are so many, each excellent, he is troubled, not knowing which to choose as heir.

With new clothes to wear, Jiang Siyin is very happy, yet also a bit embarrassed, after all, for his sake his father, a grown man, actually has to pick up needle and thread—even on the not-so-particular grasslands, it's rare to see a man handling needle and thread.

After measuring the child's size, Jiang He took out the fabric he had bought from a merchant, snip-snip-snip with the scissors, and the fabric fell in pieces onto the large table.

It does not take up space, nor does it infringe on the living space of other pasture grasses; it can grow in the Gobi and sandy lands already gnawed bare by cattle and sheep, improving the soil.

Especially this year's grassland, the herders feel that no year has ever been like this one, filling them with anticipation for life.

Now selling wool has become the most important source of income for the Hu people; it's unknown why those Central Plains merchants want so much wool, but I've heard that the chiefs of the major tribes are privately discussing raising the price of wool.

Jiang He said without looking up, "Woolen coats get dirty easily, but the fabric Father bought is especially stain-resistant; even if it gets dirty, a wipe with water makes it clean, and sewing the wool inside keeps it warm."

Even the caravans coming from the Central Plains can clearly feel the changes on the grassland.

Jiang Siyin's eyes narrowed; whenever his father has free time he goes to cook, and the monk father's dishes are truly delicious!

The Chanyu took a big gulp of wine while eating stinky tofu, feeling delighted inside—this really makes a good accompaniment to drink.

The white wool on the woolen coat really gets dirty easily; Jiang He often sees Hu children running around in coats where you can't tell they were originally white.

He heard that many places in Daqing also lack grain; Master Xuanji has a new grain variety, but he doesn't give it to the Daqing people to plant—instead he sends it to the grasslands, so it's no wonder the Daqing court is cursing up a storm.

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"My father is very busy." Jiang Siyin is a sensible child; although the monk father never asked him to help with chores, he still silently does what he can.

Jiang Siyin instantly became happy: "Then I want green!"

Jiang He smiled at the parrot and said, "Do you want an outfit? I can make you a little garment, also in green."

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While he was busy, he said to the boy standing nearby, "Father will make you a down jacket, stuffed with wool; actually duck down would be better, but few people raise ducks on the grassland, so we can only use wool."

Perhaps the emperor of the Central Plains is indeed formidable in war, but in governing the country his vision is short-sighted.

"Father, are you going to make me clothes?" he said, somewhat disbelieving, having never heard of a man making clothes before.

"Green can hide in the grass and not be noticed." Jiang Siyin pouted, "The woolen coats we used to wear were really too white; when playing hide-and-seek with my little pals, I'd be spotted right away."

"This shows the master's sincere devotion to our grassland." The Chanyu said, thinking of Sang Ya's parents, feeling they must be richly rewarded. They saved Master Xuanji's son, did not treat him as a slave, but regarded him as family; Master Xuanji is grateful and will surely be willing to devise plans for the grassland's development in the future.

His child cannot be a dirty child!

Jiang Siyin used to think meat was absolutely tastier than vegetarian dishes, but after eating the vegetarian food made by the monk father, that notion has changed; if it weren't for his father telling him what nutritional balance to maintain, he would think eating only vegetables all the time would be fine.

Winter is bitterly cold; Hu people wearing hats are everywhere, usually just wool or wolf-fur hats; the nobles, more luxurious, use hats made of leopard or tiger fur, and the hat's color depends on the animal's fur color.

Jiang He calmly said: "Besides fathering children, I can do anything!"

All this seems to be because of the arrival of Grand Master Xuanji.

Jiang Si Yin was silently missing the vegetarian meat made by the monk father, when he heard the monk father's voice: "Little Yin, come here, Dad will measure your size."

Grand Master Xuanji not only cured their illnesses but also brought them hope to live on.

Jiang Si Yin was reading a storybook with great relish, a parrot perched on his shoulder, occasionally flapping his head with its wings and squawking to remind him: "Time to turn the page."

The Crown Prince also shared the disdainful gaze toward the Central Plains Emperor; a person of talent and virtue like Grand Master Xuanji, yet you only value his ability to send children—utterly blind.

Jiang Si Yin unhappily said: "No, I want to savor it slowly; otherwise, once finished, it's gone."

More than ten years ago, when the Central Plains Emperor was still a prince, he had fought the steppe more than once; they each had wins and losses—the Supreme Ruler reluctantly admitted, well, actually the steppe lost more than it won.

He said: "Dad, I have a wool coat."

The Supreme Ruler couldn't help feeling proud and satisfied, sighing: "Central Plains Emperor……not good enough!"

But that's fine; it's a bargain for them, the steppe!

Then his father will have more free time.

So, upon learning that the Central Plains Emperor had no heir, he felt delighted.

"Sir Zhang, Sir Wang, you've finally arrived!"

Manager Zhang was the last batch of Central Plains merchants to come to the steppe this autumn.

The parrot rolled its eyes, thinking the host had terrible taste; when this kid grows up, he'll surely want to beat his childhood self—definitely a black mark in history!

The parrot refused, its multicolored feathers so beautiful; it wouldn't let a green garment cover its beauty!

Soon, more women came carrying wool, obediently lining up.

After a lively day outside, returning to the tent at night, Jiang Si Yin sat under the light to read.

Jiang Si Yin froze: "You can still choose the color?"

"Dad will make you another hat, one that covers the ears," Jiang He said, his movements as swift as the finest embroideress of South of the River; "Little Yin, what color hat do you want?"

The Supreme Ruler said: "If I were the Central Plains Emperor, a person of talent like Grand Master Xuanji, I would rather destroy him than let him leave!"

Jiang Si Yin soon stared wide-eyed; the speed was too fast—needle down, thread up, and in no time a sleeve was sewn.

Upon seeing the monk father standing there, gesturing with his hands, he widened his eyes.

The dog host has experienced countless worlds; even casually writing a few children's storybooks is incredibly good.

Because the nobles he cured were grateful and sent him many candles, allowing him to use them as he pleased; for his only son, he was naturally generous as well.

"Ah, we've finally arrived! Good thing this year's snow hasn't fallen yet; otherwise, if the Hu people migrate, we'd waste so much time!" Wang Dahang said happily.

After tanning the sheepskin with the hair and wearing it inside out, wool outward, it becomes a wool coat; although it may have a slight odor, it's quite warm, and on the steppe, both men and women wear wool coats most in winter.

To prevent him from staying small on a vegetarian diet, the monk father gave money to the neighbors to have them prepare meat dishes for him.

Being able to sell it is great; this way they also gain extra income, can buy more supplies, and will surely make it through this winter.

Now it's great—this thing can actually make money!

In previous years they worried greatly about this wool; when summer came and the heat made it necessary to shear the sheep, even tossing the cut wool felt like a hassle, and leaving it took up space.

This time coming to the steppe, Wang Dahang was still together with Manager Zhang.

Seeing them, the Hu women ran over carrying baskets full of wool.

On the steppe, anything useful he sees he will collect; this place is truly barren, and anything usable is put to use.

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