Chapter 63

Holy Monk 29 (All-Powerful Master)

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"We're almost at the Black Wolf Tribe." Jiang Sinyin opened his mouth, exhaling ring after ring of white vapor—going out in winter is truly bitterly cold.

The cold wind made everyone wish they could shrink their heads into their clothing.

The Black Wolf Tribe is a large tribe, much wealthier than the small tribe they belong to, with many more cattle and sheep.

"Maybe this winter will have abundant food," said a young herdsman with a worried frown, "the rams have eaten their fill and have energy, so many ewes are pregnant."

This young herdsman drew criticism from everyone.

The young man was careless, didn't notice the rams' condition, didn't separate males from females—no wonder trouble arose.

A middle-aged herdsman also couldn't help saying, "My cow is pregnant too."

The Hu people who came to join the fun all spoke up: "Thanks to the black feather grass, our livestock didn't go hungry this winter."

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As master Jiang He, he was again greeted with a chorus of flattery.

He couldn't help sighing, "Why is it that wherever I go, I have to be praised first?"

Jiang Sinyin and his little companions puffed out their chests proudly; once they mastered medicine, they would be like the master, praised wherever they went.

Sang Ya whispered, "Actually, if there's enough food, it's good for livestock to get pregnant in winter; when spring comes and they give birth, the lambs and calves will have tender grass to eat."

Having studied medicine for a long time, Jiang Sinyin also knew the reason: "In past winters, we didn't dare let livestock get pregnant because of insufficient nutrition, which would cause miscarriages."

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Fortunately, his feed formula can supplement enough nutrition; otherwise, even if they conceived, they might not be able to give birth.

The herdsmen were naturally grateful; they had also heard of this feed formula, which prevents livestock from losing weight in the deep winter, turning a bad thing into a good one—by spring, their household wealth would increase again.

In the midst of their busyness, someone suddenly pointed at the flock and said, "What... what is this?"

Then they saw a man with thin clothing, his hair twisted into thin strands like rope, emerging from the flock.

He nodded and bowed to the crowd, greeting them in awkward Hu speech.

Jiang Sinyin could tell at a glance that this man was not a Hu person; his rope-like hair was due to not having washed it for a long time.

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The owner of the cattle and sheep immediately glared, scolding in Hu speech: "Get out, don't freeze the sheep, and you're not allowed to sleep with them."

Beneath the slave's grime, his face showed panic; on a winter night when outside water froze solid, he slept in a thatch hut with only a single inadequate, ragged fur blanket—if he didn't sleep with the flock, he would surely freeze to death.

Yet he dared not defy the master's order, so he could only stumble out.

Among the crowd, the master's calm, unwavering gaze swept over the slave.

The other children in the party had long grown accustomed to it, but only Jiang Sinyin showed shock and reluctance on his face, afraid others would notice; he involuntarily lowered his head, trying to recall whether this man was one of the slaves brought to the grasslands in the same batch as him.

Jiang He had Jiang Sinyin and the others personally examine the cattle and sheep's condition, letting them practice and combine it with what they had learned in medicine.

The herdsmen watched with smiling eyes the group of children studying medicine under the master, expecting that once they learned, there would be more shamans on the grasslands.

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These Hu people looked at their own tribe's children with gentle eyes, but toward the slave just now they were as cold and merciless as if dealing with lifeless furniture.

After the inspection, Jiang He told the owner, "Seven sheep are pregnant; you must pay attention to nutrition, and also……"

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The owner's heart leapt into his throat as he hurriedly asked, "Master, what's wrong? Is something the matter?"

"Pregnant sheep need special attention to warmth; it's best to check them once or twice each night. I worry they might get shoved into a corner, and if they get cold, there could be danger." The master said seriously, "Ordinary sheep can sleep straight through to dawn, but pregnant ewes aren't necessarily so."

The surrounding Hu people nodded repeatedly upon hearing this; indeed, that makes sense.

Someone spoke up, "My wife is pregnant too; at night she tosses and turns, waking up several times."

"That's right, people are like that, let alone sheep."

The owner warmly invited everyone to his home for milk tea and roasted meat, while a group of children sat around the fire eating.

Jiang Sinyin, however, had little appetite; he ate a bit hastily, then stepped out of the tent to get some air.

The winter on the steppe is very cold; the temperature difference between inside and outside the yurt is great. Standing there, his breath turned to frost, and he couldn't help but tuck his neck into his clothing.

He instinctively looked for the slave from earlier; logically, with so many people present, the master should have summoned the slave to attend.

But after thinking, he felt it wasn't strange—the slave was so filthy, reeking of sheep wool; the master's household would hardly dare let him appear before guests.

The Black Wolf Tribe is truly large; just looking at the style and size of the yurts around shows that this tribe is much wealthier than Sang Ya's tribe.

Jiang Sinyin stood there, idly counting the yurts, wandering about at random.

Outside the yurts there was no one; with the weather so cold and it being dinnertime, no fool would be out loafing like him.

Suddenly, Jiang Sinyin saw a yurt not far away.

That yurt was extremely luxurious; at a glance you could tell it belonged to a noble.

Behind that luxurious yurt stood a very dilapidated small yurt; Jiang Sinyin hesitated a moment, then still approached, and before he even got close he heard sounds coming from inside.

"So cold, so hungry—we boil black feather grass twice a day, and it's gone in an instant."

"Having black feather grass to eat should be enough; we don't even own a single sheep. Last winter, without black feather grass, many slaves starved to death—at least we're still alive."

"It's colder here than in Great Celebration." A weak voice said through chattering teeth, "If I freeze to death, they'll surely drag my corpse deep into the steppe… I don't want wolves to eat my body—then please trouble yourselves to dig a grave and bury me."

Another voice, equally trembling, said, "Don't talk—speaking just makes you hungrier. Hurry up and sleep! Maybe I'll die first; slaves' lives are like this—just a difference between dying later or sooner."

Jiang Sinyin stood outside the tent, wishing at that moment he couldn't understand the Great Celebration language.

After a while, he trudged back the way he came with deep and shallow steps, his face numbed by the icy wind, as if his whole heart were cold.

He suddenly recalled what he had once told his father: there's no real difference between the steppe folk and the Central Plains people—we're all human; it's just that the steppe is too poor, lacking enough food, so they don't observe propriety, and thus are seen as barbarians.

Will the slaves in the Central Plains be treated like this as well?

No! His father said the Central Plains have no slaves, only servants! Though servants sell themselves, the master may not beat or scold them at will; if they are killed, the authorities will intervene.

But when a slave on the steppe dies, no one steps in; the Hu masters toss their bodies into the deep steppe as if discarding trash.

The warmth of Sang Ya's family clouded his eyes, and for the first time he realized that survival on the steppe is actually harsher than on the Central Plains.

Sang Ya came out looking for him, saw him standing there, and hurried over to pull him.

"Batu, where did you go?" Sang Ya noticed his hand was icy. "Your hand is too cold, let's go back! The master just laid out a fur rug for us; night is falling, hurry inside to sleep."

The round trip was too far, so they had to spend a night at the Black Wolf Tribe and could set out for home only tomorrow.

That night, Sang Ya slept together with the master's young lady.

She rarely stays at someone else's house like this, and finds it quite interesting.

In the room next door, Jiang Siyin also lay on a single bed with his little companions.

"Batu, you ate so little today," Ake Shan handed him some hidden jerky. "Have a bite."

"Thanks." Jiang Siyin subconsciously didn't want his companions to know what he was thinking, and a smile lifted his face. "I'm worried about Tongtong; it's a parrot that guards the house, really unsettling."

The companions in the room chattered to comfort him, "It's better at home! The weather's so cold; a bird going out would freeze to death."

"We'll see it when we return tomorrow; what could happen in just one night?"

"Exactly, Tongtong is so clever."

……

It was already deep night, and everyone had fallen asleep.

Half-dazed, Jiang Siyin heard someone getting up and instantly became alert.

Since living with his monk father, he hadn't slept directly on the ground like this for a long time; he still wasn't used to it and would wake up easily.

Jiang Siyin kept his body still, squinting toward the dark room.

The person who got up... seemed to be the master. What was he getting up for?

The yurt's master muttered a Hu curse at the dreadful weather, walked into the straw house, and kicked a sleeping slave awake.

"Get out! Stay in the sheep pen and keep an eye on the pregnant ewes!"

In the deep, quiet night, the master's voice was low, yet Jiang Siyin heard it crystal clear.

In the darkness he looked toward his monk father's sleeping spot, but saw nothing.

To keep warm, the yurt was sealed and unventilated; even daytime was dim, let alone the dead of night.

Jiang Siyin's mouth twitched; it turned out his father's daytime words meant this—dad was always so clever.

The next day, they left the Black Wolf Tribe.

When they returned to the tent temple, Jiang Siyin saw no one around and finally couldn't hold back.

"Father, those slaves are so pitiful; is there really nothing we can do?" he asked softly.

Jiang He sighed, his broad palm patting his son's head, and asked, "You've been upset about this all the way here?"

Jiang Siyin bit his lip, feeling down, "Father, I was also sold to the steppe as a slave back then."

He was just luckier, having met a foster family who didn't treat him as a slave.

Jiang He was pleased, "Don't worry; in a few days the old chanyu's men will come, and I'll mention it to them then."

He finally breathed a sigh of relief; the child was no longer solely focused on the steppe. The law of the wolf—survival of the fittest—was vivid on the plains, and Jiang Siyin's companions took it for granted, but before age seven Jiang Siyin had been educated with Confucian teachings, embedding benevolence and kindness into his bones.

The milk powder received unanimous praise.

The master said twins are usually premature; Sang Ya's mother now carries a huge belly, and he feels scared each time he sees it.

The neighbor aunt who helped with the delivery laughed uncontrollably, took the two babies, and taught Sang Ya to feed them boiled milk.

Although the twins were clearly premature and tiny at birth, now both are stronger than singletons.

Sang Ya was also delighted by the milk powder.

Seeing how milk powder was made, Jiang Siyin's admiration for his father swelled like a raging river; he thought there was no one more formidable in the world than his dad.

Not every steppe herder can afford meat daily; families like theirs mostly eat plant roots and dairy, which are tough on the throat, so if one could eat flour‑based dishes every day, he'd consider it a celestial life.

She said happily, "Just mix with warm water and it's drinkable—so convenient."

He couldn't change those slaves' status nor knew how, and could only hope they fare well on the steppe.

"Cattle in the Central Plains can plow fields; my father said we should learn from experienced Central Plains farmers."

"Vacuum storage is out of the question these days, but if you keep air out, a month of storage should be fine."

Only then did Jiang Siyin have time to look after his two younger brothers; children grow fast—just a few days later they seemed a bit plumper, like little piglets.

When Jiang He sowed oat, the surrounding Hu people immediately came to help, and the plot was quickly planted.

Jiang Siyin didn't expect the visitor to be the Great Prince.

When the Great Prince heard his request, he was momentarily stunned.

"Five jin of seeds is manageable; more would be a hardship," Jiang Siyin nodded.

"What are you afraid of? The master is here!" The Great Prince remained calm, believing his destiny protected him from evil.

Sang Ya's mother glared, "Feeding with a spoon is even more troublesome! Go learn from Batu; with a baby bottle and milk powder, I can care for both younger brothers alone, so I don't need you!"

Being stared at by tribe members eager for their children to become warriors, Sang Ya's mother, also a mother herself, could hardly bear it; recalling the master's character and the fact that processing milk powder wasn't very hard, she had to tell the truth.

Sang Ya's mother went into labor at midnight. The twins were indeed much harder to deliver than a single child; midway she lost strength, the delivering neighbor aunt was terrified, and Jiang He gave her several injections and administered pre‑prepared medicine.

It would have been troublesome in previous years, but this year's wool brought everyone a profit; food now includes black‑feather grass and oat, and after sowing oat next year there will be no shortage, so even half‑filled slaves can manage.

As for the slaves stranded on the steppe, the emperor who earned a fortune from wool was already planning to have Zhang, the merchant supervisor, buy them back to the Central Plains; though Emperor Da Qing wasn't exactly benevolent, the thought of his people toiling for the Hu made him deeply uneasy.

Sang Ya's father, like a rigid stone, held a child in each hand, his eyes unwilling to blink.

Jiang He began another maneuver.

Jiang He clasped his prayer beads, feeling this wouldn't work; Sang Ya spent all day circling the two younger brothers, leaving no time for study.

"Don't be afraid, my father said it will happen either this month or next," Jiang Siyin comforted his adoptive father, "My father's medical skill is really good, nothing will happen."

Sang Ya is already fifteen; she can delay marriage at most two more years, after which she must wed—and then where would she find time to study? If she doesn't learn something now, she'll never get another chance.

Such a useful thing as the baby bottle spread quickly.

"When they're just born, the adults have no milk; for these two or three days, the child must drink cow's milk." Auntie told Sang Ya, "See? Just hold the brother like this; after they're full, slightly raise the child and gently pat their back to avoid choking on milk."

It's just turning milk into powder so it can be stored for a long time.

Without Sang Ya's knowledge, the rumor about milk powder spread wider and wider, eventually becoming: one catty of milk powder requires nearly ten catties of cow's milk to produce, condensed into essence; babies who grow up drinking this milk essence will be extraordinarily strong and especially clever!

The neighboring auntie who had delivered countless newborns told Sang Ya's father, premature babies rarely are this healthy, let alone twins; the master must have expended considerable effort.

After finishing the game, the crown prince went to find the master.

"Patron, this time the poor monk doesn't want money; I only wish to ask you for one thing."

Sang Ya specially went to find the master to apologize, yet ended up causing him more trouble.

"When the steppe has more grain, those barbarian masters will surely be willing to feed the slaves their fill."

Sang Ya's father went to thank Master Xuanji.

The pastry was salty; Jiang Si Yin couldn't help but pout his lips—not that it was bad, but he'd rather have something sweet.

Thinking of this, Jiang He said, "Little Yin, go find your sister Sang Ya and bring back more cow's and goat's milk; Father wants to try making milk powder."

"Just this small matter?" he said indifferently, "Master, rest assured; I'll have people mention it to each tribe—the Dàqìng slaves have farming experience, and it would be a pity if they died."

She indeed liked the two brothers, but taking care of them every day prevented her from studying, leaving her with regret; now being able to study is wonderful.

When the sun rose, the two children were finally delivered smoothly.

Jiang He smiled without speaking, and did not tell the child that he had previously mentioned to the Central Plains emperor that the emperor was cracking down hard on traffickers—those who sell children face the death penalty, and selling adults is even worse!

The proof is Sang Ya's two brothers, stout as little calves.

Soon, the three of them and the parrot were drinking milk tea, accompanied by snacks.

Sang Ya said, "It's quite a hassle to have to keep changing the nipple."

Sang Ya's mother wearily glanced at them, a delighted smile appearing on her face: "All sons, how wonderful." Having said that, she immediately fell into a deep sleep.

When they returned, Jiang Si Yin told his father, "They eat many meals a day—no wonder Sister Sang Ya can't keep up! They've just rested a bit, and the two brothers are hungry again." He sighed, "We dare not milk in advance; now the weather is heating up, the noon yurt gets very hot, and Sister Sang Ya worries the goat milk will spoil, plus those annoying flies will come out."

On the steppe, parents don't expect their children to be clever, since these kids don't need to study anyway; but the lure of becoming a warrior is something no parent can resist.

Sang Ya's mother wanted to say there was no need for such fuss, but she was overruled by Sang Ya and her father; Central Plains people insist that a woman must observe the month-long confinement after childbirth, and there is reason for it—anyway, their family now lacks neither food nor clothing, so what's the harm in her resting a month without work?

He dared not move his hands, fearing the child would fall.

Besides, what can a parrot accomplish after becoming a spirit? Even before the master arrived on the steppe, he had sent people to observe it—this parrot knows no magic at all; aside from its unusually talkative beak, it has no talents.

For his wife's sake, the master refused to see patients; even if he did, he would only go to places within an hour's horse ride around, and he kept this in mind, feeling grateful.

The master refused the crown prince's jewels, clasped his hands together, and uttered a Buddhist chant.

She poured the milk powder into the porcelain jar that had held sugar, feeling deeply moved; with this, she no longer needed to milk the goats several times a day—not only was it a hassle for her, but the mother goats were annoyed too, wanting to avoid her.

"Master, your hard‑won feed formula is extremely useful." The crown prince placed a bag of jewels on the table, "These are the payment for the formula."

The crown prince came to the tent and went straight to find the parrot to play chess.

Not long after Sang Ya's mother gave birth, Sang Ya's family and the remaining minority peoples finally migrated as well.

When spring arrived, the herders began to migrate again, one after another.

When Manager Zhang's caravan reached the steppe, it was late spring, and he was astonished to discover that a new novelty called milk powder had appeared on the grasslands.

Jiang He, this master, remained calm and unmoving; Jiang Si Yin's little companions stayed with him, only Sang Ya's father showed some anxiety on his face, striving to keep himself composed.

Jiang He said nothing.

Sang Ya took a big gulp of milk tea and said, "I don't think there's much difference; this milk tea is just a little fragrant."

Jiang Si Yin thought the crown prince was quite bold; he hadn't even considered whether a parrot this clever might actually be a demon.

Sang Ya's mother was wrapped up like a zongzi, the carriage she was in sealed tight, not letting in a breath of wind.

Sang Ya's mother shook the bamboo‑made baby bottle; the nipple was sheep intestine, and after inserting it into the infants' mouths, the two children drank happily.

Jiang He didn't treat it as a big deal, calmly saying, "Spreading it is a good thing; with summer here, milk easily spoils, and drinking spoiled milk causes diarrhea."

Milk powder also made parents with children green with envy—how much trouble it would save!

How could there be such a perfect person in this world? It feels like he can do anything; with this baby bottle, the child can drink milk on their own—I don't know how much hassle it would save.

After working hard for several days, they finally finished the spring plowing.

Before studying medicine, I didn't think much of it; but once I learned that flies and mosquitoes can kill people, I felt something was off everywhere.

It's normal for twins to be born a bit light; fortunately they can eat, and if mother's milk isn't enough they drink cow's or goat's milk—in just a few days their weight picks up.

As soon as those words were spoken, Sang Ya's home instantly filled with parents hoping their children would become dragons.

"Of course, adults and children can both drink it; made into milk tea it's even a bit more fragrant than fresh cow's milk." Jiang Qing lowered his head to sniff the milk powder, feeling the gamy smell had diminished considerably.

Jiang Si Yin was completely at a loss, "Father, what is milk powder?"

This errand was requested by the crown prince; he greatly enjoys trading with the master—the tofu business let him make a big profit, and those vegetable recipes also won the father king's favor; the master truly is his lucky charm.

Sang Ya immediately scooped out several large spoonfuls of milk powder and said with a grin, "Let's give it a try."

Seeing that her mother was indeed free, Sang Ya picked up the sand board she usually used for study and hopped out the door.

After studying medicine with the master, Sang Ya came to loathe flies and mosquitoes intensely.

Akesan drove the horses forward to speak with him, "Our family also wants to plant oats; we have five catties of seed."

Wanting fragrance isn't easy; all sorts of additives are thrown in, just in case you dare not eat it.

Jiang Si Yin smelled the milk powder and found it very fragrant; he couldn't help swallowing, then turned and asked, "Father, can I drink it too?"

By then, the trouble won't be anything other than him, this doctor?

Sang Ya's father suddenly recalled that the master's reputation as a giver of sons meant that the Daqing emperor's children were all born under his treatment.

Sang Ya and her mother circled the two babies, basically either feeding them or washing diapers, and the day passed quickly.

Jiang Si Yin rode on a small horse, and from time to time he would see places on the grassland where the sparse grass had been turned over, thus knowing that the herders here intended to plant oats.

Sang Ya's father forced a smile, saying, "Then it'll be trouble for the master."

Sang Ya came over holding the boiled chicken soup, saying, "Mom, eat more chicken soup; your milk isn't enough."

Nearby, Hu people with infants often came to visit, because the children were crying for milk, and Sang Ya's mother couldn't hide it.

Sang Ya's mother gazed gently at the plump twins, her brows furrowed, saying, "The two children definitely won't have enough to eat; fortunately we have goat's milk."

"The master is truly amazing; this baby bottle is made wonderfully," Sang Ya's mother exclaimed sincerely.

Jiang Si Yin was especially happy, looking admiringly at the monk father.

A Ke Shan said longingly, having heard that flour made from wheat could be used to make many delicacies, and the master's many pastries made from wheat were delicious.

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