Chapter 119: Borrowing Celestial Fire to Emulate the Suiren Sage

Huge sky lanterns, crafted from bamboo strips and light silk, drifted in mid-air like clouds.

A thin man stood looking up at them, a flicker of confusion etched between his brows. Had one stood close enough, they might have overheard him muttering to himself: "Why do these lanterns fly? And why do they fall back to earth once the candles within are spent?"

Ye Chang, walking by while holding Chongniang’s hand, overheard the query and said with a smile, "The lanterns rise because the candle flames generate hot air. Hot air is light, while cold air is heavy; the light rises and the heavy sinks. Thus, the lantern is carried aloft by the hot air, soaring into the clouds."

"But why is hot air light?" the man pressed.

"As for that... I cannot say for certain. Since you are so curious, why not study it further?" Ye Chang was always happy to spark an interest in the natural world, so he offered the suggestion casually.

The man frowned, and after a long moment, replied, "Indeed. I am Zhang Xiu of Julu. My thanks to you, sir, for your guidance... It is just that since my uncle passed on, there is no one left to consult regarding the principles of heaven and earth or the transformations of yin and yang—there was once Master Liang, but he, too, has departed this world..."

As he continued to mutter to himself, Ye Chang considered asking who his highly esteemed "uncle" or the "Master Liang" were, but Chongniang had grown impatient. She tugged at his sleeve, urging, "Come on, let’s go explore the shops!"

Truly, a woman’s passion for shopping knows no age limit. Even though Ye Chang exercised regularly, keeping up with the young girl left him feeling quite exhausted. An hour passed; the morning light was nearing midday, and they had nearly finished browsing every stall in the East and West Markets. With the most important event of the fair—the competition of treasures—approaching, Ye Chang returned to the front of Chaotian Street.

By now, both sides had displayed their rare curiosities. The shelves beneath the colorful pavilions were laden with all manner of glassware. Each piece was a rare artistic treasure; Ye Chang estimated that if even one survived to future generations, its value would be enough to keep a family wealthy for generations.

However, these glass objects were incredibly fragile—even more difficult to preserve than porcelain—and their scarcity meant very few survived through the ages.

"I heard that both the East and West Markets have hidden treasures they haven't unveiled yet," Chongniang said, having finished her circuit. She held an ice pop in a bamboo tube, her mouth smeared with white syrup, and asked Ye Chang in a muffled voice.

Seeing her state, Ye Chang took out a handkerchief and handed it to her. "Wipe your face."

"This ice pop is delicious! Eleven, you really are the cleverest. Everything that little girl Xiang'er says is nonsense, but she was right about this."

What Chongniang was eating was Ye Chang’s new invention: the ice pop.

The technique of using saltpeter to create ice in water was not meant to emerge until the end of the Tang Dynasty; Ye Chang had introduced it a century early, and naturally, he hadn't forgotten to make ice cream as well. However, for now, the packaging was limited to cleaned and steamed bamboo tubes, and the ingredients were somewhat lacking.

"The sugarcane juice is sweet, isn't it? It’s tasty, but don't eat too much, or you'll get a stomachache," Ye Chang said with a laugh.

The juice was extracted from sugarcane. Emperor Taizong, Li Shimin, had once sent men to India to learn the craft of making it, but the technique remained crude, nowhere near the yellow-clay filtration method Ye Chang had adapted from the *Tiangong Kaiwu*. After Jia Mao and his associates left the ball market, they needed a new trade. Ye Chang had provided them with ice pops and sugarcane juice; though only Jia Mao was currently involved, it showed the wanderers of Chang'an that as long as they followed Ye Chang, they would never lack a livelihood.

They had just picked up the ice pop from a stall managed by Jia Mao.

"They're hanging them up! They're hanging them up!" Ignoring Ye Chang’s warning about a stomachache, Chongniang pointed at the colorful pavilion and cheered, clearly excited for the grand finale.

Ye Chang understood her playful spirit well.

From a horizontal beam on both pavilions hung colorful silk cloths, and tied to the lower ends were bundles containing the final treasures for the day’s competition. Neither side had opened them yet; they would wait until the appointed time.

Just as Ye Chang was enjoying the spectacle, someone grabbed his sleeve. He turned to see Hu Yuanxiang rubbing his hands with a complex expression.

"Is there something you need, Old Master Hu?"

Hu Yuanxiang pulled him aside and bowed deeply. "Winning the first two rounds was entirely thanks to your wisdom, Master Ye. I have nothing with which to repay you, so I can only offer this."

"Old Master Hu, there is no need for such formalities. I simply found Wang Yuanbao an eyesore and decided to lend you a hand," Ye Chang chuckled. "Speak plainly. If there is anything I can do to help, I will."

"I just received news that Wang Yuanbao’s glassware comes from the Dashi Empire, and it is exceptionally exquisite. I had assumed he would use Zichuan glassware, but I never expected him to procure Dashi glass. Given my own collection, I could compete with Zichuan, but Dashi glass..."

He shook his head and looked at Ye Chang with hopeful eyes.

Ye Chang could only offer a wry smile. Even if he knew that glassware was but a step away from modern glass, without a master craftsman and time, he could not produce glass that would surpass Wang Yuanbao’s.

"There is nothing I can do about this. Besides, you have already won two rounds. Even if you lose this one, the West Market still holds the upper hand," Ye Chang said.

Hu Yuanxiang knew that Ye Chang had no solution, but having witnessed his ability to turn the mundane into the miraculous, he had hoped against hope. Upon hearing this, he bowed again. "Yes, yes, Master Ye is right."

***

Seeing that the man remained disappointed, Ye Chang shook his head. Unless the opponent made a mistake, this round was a lost cause.

He and Chongniang strolled over to the East Market pavilion, where, just like the West Market, a silk-wrapped bundle hung from a beam. As he was observing, someone tapped him on the shoulder. Ye Chang turned to find Wang Jin.

"The previous two rounds—they were all your schemes, were they not?" Wang Jin had completely lost his composure, his expression filled with rage.

"What do you mean by 'schemes'? Is it only 'not a scheme' if I concede defeat without a fight?" Ye Chang retorted.

"Ye Eleven, are you determined to oppose me?"

Wang Jin even invoked his status as an official. Before Ye Chang could respond, Twenty-Nine (Chongniang), who was standing nearby, stepped forward and stomped hard on Wang Jin’s foot.

Perhaps because she had practiced on Ye Chang’s feet so often, the strike was both swift and precise. Wang Jin’s attention had been entirely fixed on Ye Chang; he never expected a little girl to do such a thing. He jumped in pain, but despite his study of Buddhism, he had learned only the form and not the substance. His composure and magnanimity were severely lacking.

Realizing it was just a little girl who had stepped on him, he instinctively raised his hand to strike her.

It was a reflexive reaction; he assumed the girl following Ye Chang was merely a maid.

However, the girl stared back at him coldly, without blinking. She neither dodged nor showed fear, a faint, chilling smirk playing on her lips.

*Slap!*

The blow descended, but it did not land on Chongniang’s face; Ye Chang had blocked it with his arm. Standing right beside her, how could he let him strike her?

"Audacious!"

Chongniang was followed by several maids who, having realized what had happened, glared with fury. The leader shouted, pointing at Wang Jin.

Wang Jin suddenly shivered.

He had seen Chongniang before, but only from afar. She was never favored, and she was so young that he had never paid her any mind. Having lashed out in his haste, he now recognized her identity in the cold light of realization.

He was no Ye Chang; he dared not strike a Princess. Recognizing who she was, he panicked.

"This... this..."

"Wang Jin, is it? I’ll remember that," Chongniang said, her expression cold as she nodded at him.

That nod, which should have been a gesture of kindness, looked like a death warrant to Wang Jin. Had Ye Chang not blocked him, the consequences of slapping a Princess were something Wang Jin could never bear. Even Princess Yuzhen would likely not protect him for the sake of her friendship with Wang Wei.

Wang Jin looked at Ye Chang with a complicated gaze. Had their roles been reversed, he would have let the blow land, yet Ye Chang had stopped it. For Chongniang, it was merely avoiding a slap, but for Wang Jin, it was avoiding a catastrophe.

He was not An Lushan, who dared to use a Princess to prove his loyalty to the Emperor. If a foreign general did such a thing, Emperor Xuanzong might be pleased, but for a scholar-official like him to do so, Li Longji would be furious.

In that moment, Wang Jin couldn't help but fold his hands and bow deeply to Ye Chang.

Ye Chang did not accept the gesture and pulled Chongniang away. "Let’s go. Let’s continue to watch the show."

Wang Jin, rising, felt a mix of jealousy, shame, and fear. He had no face to remain at the fair and turned to disappear into the crowd. His only option now was to find his brother and beg Princess Yuzhen for intercession. Had he actually struck Chongniang, even that might not have worked, but since Ye Chang had intervened, there was still room for a reprieve.

"Eleven, you're just too kind," Chongniang said, glancing at him sideways.

"I couldn't just let him hit you, could I? You silly girl, there are plenty of ways to deal with him; why resort to taking a blow?"

Chongniang fell silent.

***

"Even if taking that blow would have helped me, am I the kind of person who needs a woman to take a hit to vent my anger?" Ye Chang said, patting her on the head. "Remember, don't do that again. Your father and the Great Truth Master would both be heartbroken."

Chongniang looked up. "And you?"

"Naturally, I would be heartbroken too."

Hearing this, Chongniang pursed her lips and smiled. But as her smile faded, she added, "We cannot have Father punish Wang Jin, but we cannot let him have it easy either. Eleven, you must have a way!"

"What do you have in mind?"

"Make him bitterly disappointed. Let him get nothing that he wants."

Ye Chang suddenly had a flash of inspiration. "Heh, in that case... let me show you a magic trick."

As he spoke, he scanned his surroundings. There were many trees lining the roads in Chang'an. Initially, many people had climbed them to watch the spectacle, but now most had moved to the West Market, leaving the East Market side emptier. Ye Chang found a tree and had a monk push him up onto a branch.

To everyone else, he looked no different from anyone else climbing a tree to watch the show. In reality, Ye Chang carefully adjusted the position of the crystal sphere in his hand.

The crystal sphere, worth a hundred strings of cash, was clear and pure. As he shifted its angle, the sunlight refracted through the sphere and focused onto the silk cloth hanging over the East Market pavilion.

It was a tiny point of light; perhaps only Ye Chang knew how high the temperature at that spot was.

Chongniang stood on the ground looking up at him, puzzled by his actions. Ye Chang made a "hush" gesture, signaling her to watch the silk.

Silk does not have a high ignition point. In mere moments, a wisp of smoke, almost invisible, began to rise where the light point landed.

Most people’s attention was fixed on the treasures displayed beneath the pavilion; no one was watching the silk cloth. Seeing the strange occurrence, Chongniang couldn't help but gasp, but she quickly covered her mouth.

The monk who had followed them had his mouth hanging wide open, drool nearly spilling out. The maids behind Chongniang, accustomed to masking their true emotions in the palace, kept their eyes wide but remained silent.

A small flame appeared, quickly turning into tongues of fire that greedily licked at the silk. Being highly flammable and in the dry summer heat, the entire cloth was engulfed in an instant.

By then, Ye Chang had tucked away the crystal sphere and shouted from the tree, "Fire! Fire!"

He wasn't the only one; many had spotted it. The crowd scattered and shouted, and the guards, already prepared, rushed over with buckets of water. But no matter how fast they were, they couldn't outrun the fire.

Just as they arrived, the silk cloth burned through, and the bundle containing the precious glassware fell from the air.

It hadn't been hanging very high—only about two meters—but the street below had been paved with concrete. As it hit the ground, there was a loud "bang," followed by a howl of agony.

The "bang" was clearly the sound of the glass shattering, and the howl came from Wang Yuanbao, who nearly fainted on the spot.

"Quick, put out the fire! If those banners and streamers catch, we're in trouble!" Ye Chang shouted.

The guards, momentarily stunned by Wang Yuanbao’s howl, realized this wasn't the time for hesitation. If the silk banners attached to the pavilion caught fire, the whole structure would collapse, and the fire might even spread throughout the market!

Fortunately, only the one silk cloth had caught fire. With the soldiers throwing water, the blaze was quickly brought under control and extinguished.

Ye Chang had already climbed down from the tree and stood to the side, watching the chaos as if nothing had happened. Chongniang and her maids were staring at him with wide, unblinking eyes, as if they were looking at a ghost or a deity.

In their eyes, Ye Chang was truly like a god.

"Now, let’s go see what it looks like," Ye Chang said with an innocent smile, standing on tiptoes to peer into the crowd.