Chapter 189: A Golden Finger Isn't So Easy to Use

The night was deep, and Zhang Zhao still had not gone to sleep. His whole body ached as if it were about to fall apart. Teaching people to fluff cotton was even more exhausting than going into battle and cutting men down.

Moreover, after a full day of labor, Zhang Zhao had also discovered some problems. The cotton he had planted did not seem to match what he remembered from before he crossed over.

The cotton he was growing now had small, thin bolls that looked anything but full, and the fibers were coarse and short, making seed removal far more difficult than he remembered.

Could it be that the cotton varieties of later ages had been bred and selected generation after generation? Zhang Zhao could not figure it out no matter how he puzzled over it.

In truth, this was because Zhang Zhao knew too little about cotton. Although selective breeding did play a part, the greater reason was that the cotton now commonly grown in Anxi and Transoxiana was actually what was called coarse-fiber cotton — Indian herbaceous cotton.

The long-staple cotton better suited for spinning and weaving was native to South America, while fine-staple cotton came from Central America. Zhang Zhao would probably never see either of them in his lifetime.

What he could find — the Indian herbaceous cotton, also called Asiatic cotton, known as coarse-fiber cotton — was characterized by low yield, short coarse fibers, and difficult seed removal.

This was also the major reason why cotton, though introduced to the Western Regions as early as the Southern and Northern Dynasties or even the Eastern Han, had never become widespread.

First, the low yield of this Indian herbaceous cotton created a huge problem: it had to compete with grain for land.

Because if the yield were high, a farming household could set aside just a little spare land to grow some, and that would satisfy the family's need for clothing and warmth.

But with low yield, it became troublesome — planting a few mu was worse than not planting at all.

Although keeping warm was a big problem for commoners in ancient times, compared with eating one's fill, there were many ways to deal with warmth.

Animal hides and rags could serve the purpose. Even if a whole family huddled in bed all winter without coming down, warming themselves with body heat, that was still better than starving.

Second, its fibers were coarse and short, and seed removal was difficult. This meant the labor required to turn this cotton into batting and cloth would be extremely high — even terrifying.

This made the price of cotton goods extraordinarily high. So this thing that kept you reasonably warm and was of passable quality, but was so expensive, was naturally abandoned by most people.

"Ah! Huang Daopo! Huang Daopo! Why did you have to be a person of the Yuan dynasty? If only you lived in this era — what exactly were the cotton loom and cotton spinning techniques you improved like?"

Great King Zhang felt for the first time how hard it was to use a golden finger. Just this cotton spinning and weaving technology involved more than a dozen key techniques and dozens of aspects in all directions. If you only knew part of it, then you were in trouble.

Of course, one could not say it was impossible to use — it could be used, but not fully. Only a little could be opened, producing something like a freak.

Lady Cao came over panting, carrying a large tray. On the black lacquered tray was a big plate of cheese-stewed lamb chops, a large bowl of soup cakes, a bowl of honey-glazed japonica rice, and a bottle of Khotan purple wine.

It looked quite heavy. Having carried it all the way over, even her forehead was beaded with a few glistening drops of sweat.

Zhang Zhao glanced at this woman in surprise. Among Zhang Zhao's several women, Lady Cao was the most beautiful. She always had a gentle, intellectual beauty, yet somehow she still seemed to harbor a trace of deeply hidden resistance toward Zhang Zhao.

This complex sense of contradiction always made Zhang Zhao unable to resist letting his beastly nature flare up, giving him a strange thrill of destroying something beautiful.

Especially those few stubborn tears at the moment of pleasure — they worked better than a little blue pill, making Zhang Zhao suspect countless times, in Lady Cao's company, that he was a pervert, yet time and again he never tired of it.

But with Lady Cao, Zhang Zhao held fast to one principle: no matter how tired he was, no matter how reluctant he felt, after every great battle with Lady Cao, he absolutely would not sleep with her.

Who knew whether this resistance of hers was faked to attract Zhang Zhao, or real? If it was real, who could guarantee she would not take a small knife in the middle of the night and give me, Great King Zhang, a little poke?

Likewise, Lady Cao rarely took the initiative to come see Zhang Zhao, let alone deliver a meal on her own as she did today.

As a military man, eating was the single most important part of maintaining martial strength — bar none.

If one ate poorly or too little, without a large supply of protein, fat, and other energy sources, then never mind going into battle to kill, even ordinary daily training could exhaust a man to the point of bleeding.

This was also the root of the saying "poor in letters, rich in arms." Setting aside the cost of weapons, armor, warhorses, and the like, food alone could eat an ordinary family into ruin.

Zhang Zhao, for example, now ate about three or four jin of mutton a day, about two jin of rice and flour, not even counting fruit and wine.

And a sheep in this era, after slaughter, was lucky to yield twenty jin of clean meat. That meant Zhang Zhao ate one sheep every five or six days — at least five sheep a month, conservatively.

An ordinary family, even a wealthy one, could rarely afford to supply that. It required a mid-sized landlord family with over a hundred mu of land to support such a man.

In Zhang Zhao's Hanshan Du, at least three hundred of his lads were such relentless eating machines, all with big bellies and thick arms and legs. Food alone was no small expense.

But the fat on their bodies was not accumulated for nothing. When a great battle came, they could fight on and off for four or five double-hours on just two rice balls and a little clear water.

They could sustain roughly this intensity of combat for three or four days or more. After a battle, losing a dozen or so jin of weight was basically routine.

For example, in the great battle below Polu Prefecture, it was by this endurance in battle that Zhang Zhao's Hanshan Du had worn down the men and horses of Saketu's ghulam guards until they were utterly exhausted.

The raids on the Persian grain route in the jungle were the same. Once Zhang Zhao and his men made up their minds to strike a grain depot, his Hanshan Du armored soldiers could don armor and carry out six or seven raids in a single day, with the hand-to-hand fighting in each engagement lasting around ten minutes or so.

It was by these ceaseless raids that they kept the Persians at the grain depot from resting or eating, nearly working the men there to collapse from sheer exhaustion before charging in and hacking and slashing.

"Great King, just now you seemed to be speaking of someone called Huang Daopo. I wonder what lady she is, that the Great King is so concerned about her?"

Lady Cao obediently placed the food from the wooden tray before Zhang Zhao one item at a time. This meal before sleep was the most important; only by eating well could one build a plump, strong body.

Zhang Zhao, sitting cross-legged, let his gaze drift to Lady Cao's back, and his hand very naturally followed his gaze downward in exploration.

Her back was straight and tender, her slender waist so narrow it seemed a single grasp could encircle it, her buttocks round, soft, and springy. Truly a natural-born beauty.

"Great King!" A sound like the mewling of a little kitten rang out, soft and tingling. Zhang Zhao's heart stirred at the call, but when he drew his gaze back to Lady Cao's face, he was startled.

At this moment, Lady Cao was gazing at him with glistening eyes, her lips shimmering with moisture, looking fresh and luscious. Her slender waist twisted gently, and her perfect curves gave Zhang Zhao the feeling of rippling water.

What the hell! Is this woman in heat? Normally she was cold to him, biting her lip and barely going along with it. Why was she like this today?

With things having come to this point, how could Zhang Zhao still eat? He scooped up Lady Cao and slung her over his shoulder, giving her soft, springy, pert bottom two slaps along the way, and went inside!

About three minutes — (Cough! Great King Zhang drew his hengdao saber!)

Uh — about thirty minutes later, Zhang Zhao leaned back against the bed in satisfaction, while Lady Cao wriggled and twisted her way off the bed and brought the food to him in bed.

Quite interesting. So when a woman exerted herself to please in this matter, the pleasure it gave a man was far greater than one-sided output!

"Was the Great King just now troubled by the matter of the Cotton and Iron Monopoly Office? I saw dozens of people studying all day today, but it seemed few could actually master the technique."

Lady Cao covered her small mouth as if stifling a laugh, her eyes narrowed into slits, looking quite adorable.

"Indeed! That Wu Yuan'er — I told him to pick out some clever, deft people, and he went and found a bunch of stupid blockheads. After a whole day of teaching, only a handful can actually do the work!"

Speaking of this, Zhang Zhao was furious. He had never seen people so stupid — a whole group cowering and shrinking back, unable to learn anything no matter what was taught.

"You can't blame Officer Wu for this. He is a capable man, skilled at receiving and sending off guests, managing accounts and revenues, and serving as an envoy abroad. But you asked him to find quick-learning, deft people, and in such a hurry — where was he supposed to find them?

He could only grab some weavers to make up the numbers. These weavers were first frightened by Officer Wu, then shaken by the Great King's tiger-like majesty. They were already trembling in terror, sweating like rivers — how could they take anything in!"

That made sense! Zhang Zhao thought it over — it really was so. If it were him, suddenly seized by the authorities, and then actually witnessing a Great King personally doing manual labor, his whole worldview would have shattered, and he would have been scared out of his wits.

Who knew whether they were really meant to learn something, or whether some nobles were amusing themselves with strange and curious novelties at their expense?

Who knew whether one careless slip would cost them their heads?

In such an environment, with Zhang Zhao himself also having to recall and fumble his way through as he went, it would have been strange if they had learned anything at all.

"If the Great King trusts your servant's words, why not entrust this matter to your servant?" Lady Cao mustered her courage and volunteered while Zhang Zhao was gnawing on a mutton rib.

"Entrust it to you? You go out in public yourself and fluff cotton with a bunch of men?"

Zhang Zhao was displeased. The term "your servant" was not something to be used casually — at the very least, it was reserved for the consorts of a ruler of a state.

Zhang Zhao was now the Juer Khan of Suyab and Deputy King of Khotan, and Lady Cao and the others were already on the list of Zhang Zhao's formal consorts, so she could call herself "your servant." But how could a Great King's consort go recruit a bunch of men to fluff cotton?

Lady Cao smiled faintly again, seeming to rather enjoy Zhang Zhao's jealous expression. She waited a moment before speaking.

"The Great King misunderstands. Have you forgotten that your servant comes from the Han-Ri Tianzhong clan? My mother's people have had the custom of spinning and weaving cotton for several hundred years.

So today, the moment your servant saw the tool the Great King invented, I knew how exquisite it was, and what a transformation it would bring to folded cloth (cotton cloth). Therefore, I beg the Great King to permit your servant to recruit three hundred weavers from my mother's clan to help the Great King accomplish this undertaking!"

"Good! Excellent!" Zhang Zhao was so delighted he rapped the wooden tray with the mutton rib bone. This was what it meant to let professionals handle professional matters.

Since Lady Cao's mother's people had several hundred years of experience making folded cloth from cotton, wouldn't having them fluff cotton be a perfect fit?

Wait! In his excitement, Zhang Zhao froze for a moment. He suddenly jumped off the bed and hoisted Lady Cao onto his shoulder.

"Oh, so you knew all along what this tool I brought out was for, yet you still watched me fluff cotton all day!

So restless — let this solitary king properly 'discipline' you!"

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