Chapter 633

Marble bricks are heavy and low in value; they don't stand out on a large ship, but transporting them over land would require far too much manpower.

Pan Yun didn't want to carry them on a long journey.

But this thing is a matter of personal taste—the local magnate might not like it at all.

It all depends on how you sell it.

Wang Cong immediately sent a Jianren to inquire about the local magnate's personality and preferences.

He was told the magnate deeply respected scholars and monks, especially loved books and artifacts from Great Ming, as shown by his constant reference to the Celestial Empire.

This was also one of the reasons a Jianren had led them to land at this remote port.

Landing here, Pan Yun and her group faced no issues regardless of whether they revealed their identities.

Once Wang Cong learned this, he immediately pulled Xue Shao along: "When it comes to scholarship, who here can match you? When it comes to spreading the Dao, no one here surpasses me. We two must go together and become close friends with this magnate."

As he dragged Xue Shao along, Xue Shao asked: "I thought Pan Yun was better at spreading the Dao than you."

"Pfft, my junior master's abilities and knowledge surpass mine, but when it comes to spreading the Dao, she truly can't match me."

When Wang Cong met the magnate, he showed him what spreading the Dao truly meant.

In just two sentences, Wang Cong had the magnate completely won over.

Xue Shao hadn't even spoken, yet the magnate was already grabbing Wang Cong's hand, eagerly leading him to the big ship to welcome Pan Yun, and ordering the villagers gathered nearby to help unload the cargo for free!

These villagers depended largely on the magnate for survival, essentially semi-slaves who obeyed him completely.

When their master gave the order, they had to roll up their sleeves and work, whether they liked it or not.

Pan Yun of course wouldn't let them work for free; she told Zhang Weiyi: "Take the big heroes and watch over them. Bring out a basket of copper coins and distribute them to them later."

Great Ming's copper coins were among the most popular goods in Wa Country, as Wa's own currency was crudely made and always called inferior coinage.

They used Duolai coins, also called Tang coins; currently in circulation, besides old Song coins, only Ming coins remained.

When the big heroes learned this in Kōchi County, they were stunned, faces filled with disbelief: "How can a country possibly have no currency of its own?"

Pan Yun was unimpressed: "Their economy is underdeveloped; barter suffices for daily trade, so currency isn't necessary. But the main reason is their government lacks credibility—otherwise, who would refuse the right to mint coins?"

Because the government lacked credibility, knowing their minted coins wouldn't circulate, they had to abandon the right and instead use Ming coins.

So it's no wonder the imperial court's officials proudly called themselves the Celestial Empire and looked down on Wa Country.

But to underestimate an enemy strategically is one thing; to underestimate them tactically leads to watching them grow stronger until they ultimately trap you.

As soon as a large basket of copper coins was brought out, the villagers helping load the cargo instantly became excited, working even more enthusiastically and carefully, their faces beaming with smiles.

The captives aboard the ship had already decided to follow Pan Yun; naturally, they didn't slack off, moving the cargo with even greater care and diligence than the villagers.

Once the marble bricks were unloaded, Wang Cong pulled the magnate over to admire them, sighing: "These stones were quarried from the Sacred Mountain. We only meant to test them—we never imagined they could cross the vast ocean to reach this land. This is their fate with this soil, and our mountain deity's fate with this land."

Pan Yun looked at Wang Cong approvingly.

Xue Shao glanced at him, then at her, and confirmed: Was this eloquence perhaps a specialty of Mount Sanqing?

Wang Cong led the magnate to discover the divinity in the marble.

The marble bricks had been polished smooth, cool to the touch, pure white, yet marked with veins.

With a single point of his finger, Wang Cong turned these veins into a stairway to immortality.

The magnate listened, heart pounding, deeply moved; he opened his mouth several times but dared not speak.

Seeing this, Xue Shao smiled: "Scholars of the Central Plains especially favor marble to adorn their entrances, but in terms of true affection, we still rank below royal nobles."

"Oh?" The magnate's eyes lit up. "Do royal nobles really like marble?"

Xue Shao nodded: "Of course. The imperial palace uses marble for flooring and staircases; under sunlight, it resembles fine jade. Moreover, marble is famed for its steadfast beauty."

Xue Shao recalled several poems, but speaking Wa language was fine—reciting poetry in Wa language was difficult.

Unfortunately, the magnate didn't speak Chinese.

He remembered that Wa Country used Chinese characters as its official script, merely adding phonetic annotations beside them to pronounce the text in Wa language.

Chinese was regarded as the elegant language; ordinary magnates couldn't speak it, but they could certainly read.

Xue Shao had paper and ink brought, and wrote a verse praising marble: "A thousand-year moss paints its hues, a single unbroken piece retains its pure color."

He told the magnate, whose eyes sparkled: "This is a poem by Su Shi, written specifically about marble."

The magnate held the poem in one hand, touched the marble with the other, tears welling up, and asked Wang Cong: "Friend, my dear friend, I know this is bold, but could you sell me a few marble bricks? I don't need much—fifty, no, forty will do. Just these large slabs—I only need to pave one room."

Wang Cong wanted to say these weren't meant for flooring inside rooms—they were meant for roads.

Who would ever lay marble bricks as floor tiles inside a room?

But seeing the magnate's shining eyes, Wang Cong held back and gripped his hand: "Our Daoist tradition holds that meeting is fate; that we've become friends is an affinity cultivated over a thousand lifetimes. For this bond, I must give you a gift."

Wang Cong decided to give the magnate all the marble bricks they had brought.

Upon hearing this, the magnate burst into tears.

He had never met such a generous friend—so generous his heart felt like it might leap out of his chest.

He clutched Wang Cong's hand in disbelief: "Are you serious? Are you really serious?"

Wang Cong nodded firmly.

Thus, the magnate decided to become their best friend in Japan—even surpassing the Jianren.

He seated Wang Cong and his group above the Jianren, and Wang Cong's seat was even placed above Pan Yun's; he pulled Wang Cong to sit right beside him, so that anyone unaware might think Wang Cong was the host himself.

Pan Yun left everything to Wang Cong's handling.

The magnate hosted them with the highest honors.

Oh, the magnate's name was Nōsaka Tarō—he naturally favored Han people.

After drinking himself drunk, he pulled Wang Cong aside and wept: "I've always wanted to visit Great Ming, but I have no large ship, and the Celestial Empire's court forbids us from landing freely, so I've never been able to go."

"But I've secretly studied the elegant language. My family is too poor to hire monks as teachers—I only know a few phrases, and I can't converse with you in elegant speech. This is surely my lifelong regret."

He then grabbed Wang Cong's hand and wept bitterly, feeling he had wronged this dear friend.

His friend could speak Wa language, but he couldn't reply in Chinese—it was terribly impolite. (End of chapter)