Chapter Thirty-One: A Great Harvest

After killing one wild boar and searching for another, Feng Xiaobao couldn’t find it no matter where he looked. Searching high and low, he marveled at the sheer size of the estate. In the end, it was the estate’s dogs that led the way, discovering, in a patch of tall grass… three wild boars!

The first boar they killed later yielded over four hundred catties of meat. Though these three were smaller, two weighed in at three hundred catties each and the last at one hundred. They seemed to be a family. The estate workers began by making noise, trying to drive the boars away. Even after having killed one before, there was no need to slaughter the rest—driving them off would suffice.

The humans tried to politely “escort” the boars from the premises, surrounding them on three sides and leaving an opening. But the boars, instead of running in the direction intended, panicked and charged straight toward one of the groups of men.

That group of workers didn’t dare block their path, so they quickly stepped aside and watched as the boars calmly trotted down the road they’d cleared. Suddenly, from the side, an arrow shot forth like a shooting star, piercing both ears of the largest, leading boar in one swift motion. Blood sprayed from the wound—so precise it was almost frightening! This arrow was loosed by none other than Feng Xiaobao.

Cheers erupted from the crowd! In the throes of the hunt, a man is at his most captivating. The Princess, watching him calmly release the arrow, the bowstring still vibrating, then nocking another arrow and aiming with intense focus, smiled in a way that made Lady Chen Fourteen remark, “She looks just like a young wife gazing at her husband returning late…”

Though the wild boar was huge, struck so fatally it collapsed at once, its limbs twitching in agony. The other two, seeing their “kin” attacked, displayed none of the stupidity people attribute to swine; in an instant, they pinpointed Feng Xiaobao’s position and charged at him.

Feng Xiaobao and the Princess each took aim at a boar and released their arrows simultaneously. Yet both arrows glanced off the boars’ thick “armor”! Last time, it had taken all they had to bring down a single boar. Now there were two, and even if they were smaller than the first, their joint assault was daunting.

Feng Xiaobao tossed aside his bow with a shout and seized his military staff, stepping forward to meet the charge. The Princess and the others held their breath—how could he possibly handle two wild boars at once?

The outcome left them speechless. Feng Xiaobao dispatched the beasts with surprising ease, even more swiftly than before. With each swing of his staff, he targeted their legs—one blow per leg. After a dozen strikes, all eight legs were broken. The boars howled miserably, but collapsed in helpless surrender, left at the mercy of their human adversaries!

Bringing down two wild boars with pure skill, Feng Xiaobao silently thanked Uncle Zhang from his old neighborhood, whose experience had taught him the secret to subduing a wild boar. This was the key to Feng Xiaobao’s success—not brute strength, but wisdom. What seemed effortless to him was beyond the reach of most hunters or soldiers. One needed agile footwork to avoid a boar’s charge, the ability to circle to its side, and the sharp eyes and sure hands to strike at exactly the right spot—no easy feat for the average person!

From there, matters were straightforward. With both boars disabled, Feng Xiaobao stepped back. The Princess tried her hand at archery, loosing three arrows—two bounced off, and one stuck, adding to the boars’ pain but failing to kill them.

Feng Xiaobao laughed aloud, even though she was the Princess—earning himself a playful kick from her! Not too hard, more teasing than punishing. Lady Chen Fourteen, seasoned as she was, recognized the meaning at once—just like a girl of eighteen giving her beloved a little kick!

The Princess, still unsatisfied, tried again, but this time Feng Xiaobao dodged. She was incredulous—how dare he not accept a Princess’s kick! Wasn’t he her subject? Shouldn’t he obediently stand and take it?

But as a modern man, Feng Xiaobao felt no true awe for royalty. In his own time, “princesses” were more likely to be served by big, burly men than to command deference.

While the two of them played, the estate workers swarmed in and finished off the three wild boars with heavy hammers—a resounding triumph.

…

The four wild boars yielded over a thousand catties of meat. The estate had its own butchers, and more were hastily summoned from nearby villages. The boars were skinned, gutted, and butchered.

Compared to domestic pork, wild boar meat was tender, fragrant, rich in flavor, and lean—a true delicacy, eagerly anticipated by all. The Princess herself selected the finest cuts, summoned the chief steward of her palace, and ordered him to take them to the imperial court as a treat for the Empress.

With her status, she could send such gifts into the palace at will.

“I brought down the wild boar, and now Wu Mei gets to taste its meat!” This was Feng Xiaobao’s first, albeit indirect, brush with Wu Zetian.

The Princess wrote notes to accompany portions of meat sent to friends and family, bustling with activity.

As for Feng Xiaobao, he was utterly enchanted by the aroma from the chef’s preparations—they were making braised wild boar!

The method was to cut the meat into chunks, soak it in cold water for an hour, boil it briefly, then simmer it with wild duck broth, spices, salt, and soy sauce for more than an hour. To modern eyes, the technique might seem rough, but for the time, it was an extraordinary treat.

While waiting for the braised boar, they sliced strips of meat to marinate and grill—exquisite beyond compare! The flavor was heavenly, made all the better by the Princess’s company—eating, drinking, and laughing together.

Fine wine in luminous cups, golden wine gleaming like amber, drunk with abandon. The young lady’s cheeks glowed like the sunlit waters of the Yi River in the afternoon, radiant and beautiful.

They whispered and teased each other—“You roast one for me, I’ll feed you one”—delighting in each other’s company. The food was delicious, and in such high spirits, they ate until the braised boar was ready, and then ate still more.

Too much eating brought its own troubles! By the time their bellies were round and taut, they could do nothing else. Feng Xiaobao could barely mount his horse, he was so full!

…

When Feng Xiaobao next met the Princess, it was at his own initiative. She received him at the “Pavilion of Evening Leisure” on the hillside within the estate, reclining on a soft divan, her graceful form and exquisite curves on full display.

He had brought a gift—smoked wild boar, already prepared and still warm from the journey. Though the Princess had eaten so much wild boar she was nearly sick of it, this novel preparation whetted her appetite all over again.

Delighted, she asked, “How did you make this?”

“What do you smell?” Feng Xiaobao asked with a smile.

“The fresh scent of fruit trees!” she replied, savoring a bite.

“Exactly! It’s smoked with fruitwood,” Feng Xiaobao shrugged.

To make this batch, Feng Xiaobao had cut down three of the tallest fruit trees in his own little estate, smoking the meat for three days and nights. The old steward had nearly wept—for fruit trees bear fruit year after year, and to cut them down was a terrible waste.

But Feng Xiaobao was determined—not even fruit trees were too dear if it meant winning the Princess’s favor.

It seemed to have worked, for she eagerly asked for more and wanted the recipe.

Feng Xiaobao had already prepared a written version, presenting it as if offering a treasure. The method was to marinate the meat, then smoke it over fruitwood branches… The Princess was deeply moved as she read.

In the Tang dynasty, most dishes were simply boiled, steamed, or roasted—people quickly grew tired of such monotony, and any new recipe was welcomed with open arms. Smoked meat was especially suited to wealthy households, though it required copious salt and fruitwood. In ancient times, salt was a luxury, and fruit trees were as cherished as cattle—bearing fruit and bringing income, no ordinary family would dream of cutting them for firewood.

Feng Xiaobao suggested using pine or cypress branches instead to reduce costs; or, for the truly frugal, simply sun-drying the meat would work; or, for convenience, letting kitchen steam do the job would also yield smoked meat.

He rattled off several methods in a single breath, concluding, “What I’ve made isn’t quite perfect yet; if you do it right, the slices turn a golden, translucent yellow—that’s the pinnacle of flavor!”

The Princess sighed with longing, “You’re making my mouth water! Where did you learn this?”

“I learned it traveling the country with my father,” Feng Xiaobao replied.

“So this is a secret from your journeys with your father? It seems…” the Princess’s eyes sparkled. “And your medicine-making, too—you’ve surprised me more than a few times.”

“Heh, Princess, you’ll have even greater surprises in the future!” Feng Xiaobao answered, neither modest nor sly, gazing ardently at the beauty before him. She purred, “And what sort of surprises might those be? For example?”

In answer, Feng Xiaobao took her hand!

The attendant maids, seeing the Princess did not call the guards, all sensibly bowed their heads and slipped outside the pavilion.

Encouraged, Feng Xiaobao grew bolder, but the Princess lightly slapped his hand, stopping him as she said, “Children shouldn’t be naughty!”

The Princess, with all her experience, knew just how to spark excitement—her playful rebuke only made the “child” all the more eager. Her feeble resistance was no match for someone with the strength to wrestle wild boars.

Outside, spring sunlight danced; inside, the pavilion was awash with the tides of spring passion.