Chapter 99: Whence Comes the Barbarian Maid’s Simple Finery

The summer breeze carried the scent of flowers, sweeping through the mountains and forests.

Ye Chang stretched lazily and slowly rose from the pavilion.

“Who first awakens from the grand dream? I alone have always known. The thatched cottage sleeps well through spring, while outside the window, the sun lingers slowly... Chunming, have any common visitors come by?”

Feigning the manner of the true Recluse Dragon, he asked Chunming, who stood before him.

Chunming replied honestly, “Lord Jiao has returned.”

“Oh, Ye Eleven, how dare you call me a common visitor!” From afar, Jiao Sui’s loud voice carried over. He spoke so fluently it was clear he had already been drinking. “You, Ye Eleven, are Zhuge Liang, but I am no Liu Xuande who visited the humble cottage thrice!”

“Ah!” Ye Chang sat upright. “So you know that story as well?”

“How could I not? When I set out, Chang’an was already filled with illustrated storybooks of the Three Kingdoms. Now it’s the time of the three visits to the thatched cottage!”

After improving movable type printing and switching to copper type, Ye Chang had noticeably enhanced the quality of printed works while reducing costs as expected. Using his own memory and then having the Fang family refine the text, their first experimental publications were his New Year pictures. With slight trimming and binding, these became the popular illustrated Three Kingdoms storybooks now circulating in the market.

Originally, he planned to publish the “New Tales of the World,” but the first printing of that received little attention. Instead, the illustrated Three Kingdoms storybooks, adapted from the New Year pictures, enjoyed great popularity.

Though the Fang family often teased him for the “New Tales,” they had contributed to that work as well.

So far, twelve volumes of the storybook had been published. The plot had just passed the famous debates among scholars, with the previous volume covering the Battle of Changban and the one before that depicting the three visits to the thatched cottage. All three volumes were released at the beginning of the month, and unexpectedly, Jiao Sui had already seen them in Chang’an.

Though the Tang Dynasty was a cultural golden age, entertainment options were limited—especially books. People mostly read the “Selections of the Literary Mind” and a few poetry collections, which were rather dull. Ye Chang’s storybooks filled this void perfectly.

“How do they sell in Chang’an?” Ye Chang asked with interest.

“No need to say, Luoyang paper is scarce. Every day, customers come to bookshops in the East and West markets asking specifically for these books. Even the crude counterfeits sold on the streets go for a hundred wen a copy!”

Books were expensive now; the illustrated Three Kingdoms storybook volume “Oath of the Peach Garden” sold for 250 wen, already considered cheap. For caution, only 500 copies of the first volume were printed: 200 sent to Chang’an, 200 to Luoyang, and the remaining 100 distributed elsewhere.

They sold out immediately.

The second volume printed 1,500 copies, plus an additional 1,000 copies of the first volume. Those too sold out quickly. Merchants from other regions even came to Xiuwu County to place orders.

At current prices, printing 250 copies could break even, 500 copies were profitable, and now each volume was printed at 4,000 copies, gradually reaching saturation. The total income per volume exceeded a thousand guan.

After deducting costs, profits reached hundreds of guan!

Just from this book alone, the Ye family could prosper for a long time.

“The tale of Luoyang paper scarcity, I had always thought it mere rumor, but now I see it is true,” Jiao Sui praised again, then laughed. “Though I am no Liu Xuande, I have come with the three visits—sent to deliver a letter to you, Lord Ye. The sender, I fear, is still on the road!”

Ye Chang waved disinterestedly. “You just like causing me trouble. First it was the cattle dispute; now what is it?”

“It’s not trouble from me, but your reputation has grown too loud,” Jiao Sui smiled. “Besides, I believe with your talent, it would be a pity if you did not serve the nation.”

“Enough of these tiresome words. In times of peace, we have no place to use our skills,” Ye Chang said. “What is the matter?”

“A group of southern barbarians from the Six Zhaos cannot find their way through Chang’an. Somehow they learned our ball game market is thriving thanks to your wisdom. They came to seek us because you have a direct link to Princess Yuzhen.”

“Southern barbarians from the Six Zhaos?” Ye Chang exclaimed.

Before coming to this world, Ye Chang had only known of Nanzhao. The leader of Nanzhao, Piluoge, was named Prince of Yunnan by Li Longji and given the title Meng Guiyi, unifying the entire Six Zhaos.

“Has that Nanzhao not yet unified the Six Zhaos tribes?” he asked with curiosity.

“The Nanzhao press on relentlessly; if we cannot devise a countermeasure, our tribe will be doomed.”

While Ye Chang and Jiao Sui spoke, in Xiuwu County, a group of southern barbarians gathered.

Their leader was a strikingly beautiful woman adorned with silver jewelry. Her bright eyes and the white layered cloth she wore were rare sights in the Central Plains.

“What can we do? The Tang emperor clearly favors Nanzhao; we are powerless!” one barbarian lamented.

All eyes turned to the leading girl, who clenched her teeth and glared fiercely. “That’s why this Lord Ye must be invited to help. He is our Kongming!”

When Zhuge Liang crossed the Lu River to campaign against the uncultivated lands, his combination of power and virtue won the admiration of the southern barbarians. Though legends tell of Meng Huo’s seven captures of Zhuge Liang, the Miao and other tribes greatly revered the great strategist.

“Exactly. If we can’t find support in Tang, we will seek help from the local tribes…”

“Nonsense! The local tribes demanded our princess marry into their families. If they had not deceived us, how would our tribe have fallen so low?”

“Stop arguing. If the Tang emperor truly won’t aid us, then we can still go to the local tribes later.” The woman spoke solemnly. “For the sake of our people, even if I must marry into their tribes, I am willing!”

Everyone fell silent. After a long pause, an elder said, “I hope... we can indeed summon that Recluse Dragon.”

“The stories say it takes three visits by the Tang to summon him. We will prepare rich gifts for three visits!”

“And if even three visits fail?” someone gloomily asked.

“If three visits fail, we’ll find other ways. I refuse to believe we cannot bring the Recluse Dragon back!”

After much discussion, the girl sighed, knowing words alone could not change their fate.

They stayed one night in Xiuwu and set out early the next day toward Wolong Valley, bearing ample gifts.

Before reaching Wuze Pond, the girl remarked, “Though the Tang is prosperous, there is nothing quite so breathtaking as this place... Why is that?”

“Cleanliness. The official roads here are clean, and the ditches on either side are cleared. The local officials must be capable and beloved.”

“Nonsense. We barbarians are wrong. It is Ye Langjun who said this. Dirty places breed poisonous insects and disease in spring. This winter, he led us to clear it all!” A passerby overheard and laughed. “Though the court has long decreed cleanliness, who cares about the countryside?”

Tang law forbade dumping filth into the streets, with punishments of beatings for offenders, but enforcement was lax.

“You listen to Ye Langjun’s words so faithfully?”

“Of course. Those who heed him earned a few more guan last year. Those who did not, even without misfortune, could only watch others’ earnings and drool.”

The barbarian girl smiled, her eyes curved like a crescent moon—quite charming. The passerby was taken aback and thought silently: Though uncivilized, this girl is truly beautiful.

After parting, the girl’s spirits lifted. Her companion asked, “Princess, why are you so happy now?”

“Because I heard that man has some skill.”

“But all he does is clear ditches. That’s no great skill. We want warriors who can fight, commanders like Zhuge Kongming…”

“You’re wrong. Why has Nanzhao grown strong while the other five Zhaos weaken? Besides the Tang’s favoritism, the key reason is Nanzhao’s increasing wealth. Ye Langjun has a strategy to enrich the people. If he were with us, how could we not become prosperous?”

“And a mere commoner who commands a county’s people must be extraordinary. If he led troops, like Zhuge Kongming, his orders would be obeyed, and soldiers gladly die for him!”

The girl stood tall on horseback, gazing ahead. “I can hardly wait to meet him!”

She only had a superficial understanding. Ye Chang did not command an entire county, merely a few villages near Wuze Pond where the people trusted him most.

Their group proceeded—only seven in number but with over a dozen horses, all sturdy, stocky mountain horses capable of carrying heavy loads on long journeys. Saddlebags bore their gifts.

Ahead appeared a large village of over a hundred households. At the entrance stood an ancient locust tree with a signboard. None of the barbarians could read it, so the sign stood silently.

At that moment, Ye Zhi emerged carrying tools. Seeing the barbarians, he showed no fear and stepped forward to ask, “Who are you?”

The barbarian girl, noting his dignified appearance and tools, addressed him in slightly stiff Tang Chinese, “We are barbarians from the Six Zhaos. Are you Ye Chang?”

“Heh, you’ve heard of Ye Chang, but why mistake me for him? I am Ye Chang’s clan uncle,” Ye Zhi smiled, stroking his beard. “I didn’t expect even you barbarians to know the name of the Eleventh Lord.”

The girl blushed, realizing her error, and quickly bowed in apology. “We have traveled north a long way. Except for places like Chang’an, few Tang people dare question us. Seeing your courage, we thought you were Lord Ye. Please forgive us.”

“What courage? Even a child of three feet dares question you here in Wuze Pond,” Ye Zhi said proudly. “With the Eleventh Lord here, the Ye clan of Wuze lacks no courage!”

Indeed, in less than a year, the Ye clan had risen from a small local family to one of the most powerful clans nearby, surpassing even the Liu family. Their knowledge expanded with the founding of the Ye clan school.

Since January 28, Ye Chang had formally opened the Ye clan academy in Wolong Valley, selecting clan children to attend daily morning classes in literacy and arithmetic, taught personally by him.

Adults were even allowed to audit, though the school required discipline. Most adults lacked patience for study, but Ye Zhi was different. He understood well the value of what Ye Chang taught and came nearly every day.

The school operated eight days each ten-day cycle, resting on the first, tenth, eleventh, twentieth, twenty-first, and thirtieth days of each month—a teaching schedule unusual but accepted by locals.

“We have traveled thousands of miles to pay respects to Lord Ye. We bring gifts and ask you to introduce us. There will be rewards,” the barbarian girl said.

“Follow this road straight ahead to Wolong Valley. At the entrance, someone will meet you,” Ye Zhi pointed to a path on the left. “I have business and will not accompany you.”

He left after speaking. The girl sighed softly, while a barbarian beside her grumbled, “That Han man is quite rude!”

“Don’t speak so loudly,” the girl scolded.

Before the Tang, “Han man” was a derogatory term used by barbarians to mock Han Chinese men, much like the Han called barbarians “Hu’er.” The grumbling barbarian was displeased, but the girl sighed, “You see, the Tang people we met rarely enjoy such lively scenes. We came so far, and that man didn’t come to watch the spectacle or ask for gifts. A true man! No wonder he is kin to Lord Ye. Seeing him makes me long for Lord Ye even more…”

“Surely he is a respected elder,” another barbarian added.

All nodded in agreement. In their eyes, only a wise elder could wield such influence and ability.

Following the road, small trees lined the way, tended by children who looked up curiously but did not follow. The barbarian girl was certain Ye Chang was the man they sought and eagerly anticipated meeting him.

The horses’ hooves sounded softly as they approached a grove of trees blocking the path. The girl guessed this was Wolong Valley. She dismounted, leading her horse respectfully. Though some of her companions were still resentful, none dared disobey.

At the valley entrance stood a servant boy. The barbarian girl approached and bowed, asking, “Young master, is this the secluded Wolong Valley of Mr. Ye Chang?”

The boy was Chunming. Curious about their appearance, he glanced at them, then returned their bow. “Indeed. Madam, you are from the Yuexi Zhaos. My master has been awaiting your arrival for some time.”

He then led the barbarians into the valley, where Ye Chang was not far, seated in the receiving pavilion, chatting with Jiao Sui and Du Fu.

Du Fu had also arrived that morning. Being older, Ye Chang offered him the place of honor; Jiao Sui, though seated in the main seat, maintained a casual air.

The barbarian girl’s eyes flicked over the group. Recognizing Jiao Sui, she smiled at him, then stepped before Du Fu and bowed deeply.

“I am Ashima, daughter of Yuexi, Tang name Yu Wei. Greetings to Mr. Ye!”

Everyone was taken aback.