Chapter Thirty-Two: Preparing to Make Soap

The alluring maturity and sensuality of the Princess were qualities those teenage girls simply could not possess, and it was this that so captivated Feng Xiaobao. In recent years, Feng Xiaobao had built a strong and vigorous body through long-distance running, lifting dumbbells, doing push-ups, eating generous portions of beef and mutton, and diligently practicing boxing and swordplay. This robust physique, in turn, utterly fascinated the Princess, making her feel as though she had lived in vain until now.

They indulged in each other with abandon, pushing themselves to exhaustion, never ceasing until all strength was spent.

...

Atop the mountain stood the two-story "Purple Qi Rising from the East" Pavilion; open the window, and one could see the sun rising in the sky, the view vast and breathtaking—a royal pleasure in itself.

Feng Xiaobao and the Princess were enjoying breakfast together in the soft morning light, savoring the sweetness of the moment. They had been together for a week now, leaving footprints of joy among the blooming flowers, beneath the moonlight, and throughout the scenic estate.

Yet Feng Xiaobao was always keenly aware of a sense of urgency in his heart. To be thrown into another era and not rebel was like setting a drill to one's own rear, but rebellion was not just an idle thought—it required true strength in every aspect: intelligence, physical prowess, wealth, and more.

To lose oneself in love and idleness all day would be to neglect greater things, to invite disaster. In truth, three days without training, and the effects were immediately felt. Spending his days in exercise, he had maintained his health, but after only a week of indulgence, he already felt his breath growing short and his strength waning.

So, last night, he calmed his mind, retired early, rose with the dawn, completed his morning exercise, bathed, and only then came to breakfast, feeling refreshed and invigorated.

Seeing him so spirited, the Princess felt an overwhelming affection for him—she could hardly restrain herself from taking a playful bite.

As they enjoyed their meal, Feng Xiaobao casually introduced a new topic: “Traveling the world with my father, I’ve picked up some knowledge. I’d like to share it with you, Princess.”

“I’d love to hear it in detail!” the Princess replied eagerly.

“Soap.”

“Soap? What is that?” the Princess asked, hesitantly.

“It’s for cleaning and disinfecting,” Feng Xiaobao explained enthusiastically, listing the many virtues of soap. The Princess nodded vigorously, showing she understood.

Though making soap in ancient times was considered somewhat vulgar, it was both necessary and feasible. Feng Xiaobao, accustomed to modern standards of hygiene, found it hard to tolerate the current sanitary conditions. Even though his household used soapberry—a natural cleanser similar to soap—and cleansing powders more than most, he still found it unsatisfactory.

Moreover, lasting relationships between men and women required shared interests and benefits. Interwoven interests were the most enduring. The emergence of soap was crucial for disinfection, and in the future, when Feng Xiaobao planned to establish hospitals, it would be indispensable.

It was said that business is best when it’s among acquaintances. Feng Xiaobao had a mid-term plan to make his mark in healthcare, and soap would play a key role in that endeavor.

He vaguely recalled the method for making soap; that was enough. When it came to the actual research and production, he wouldn’t need to do it himself—he could focus on counting his money, training his body, and charming beautiful women.

The Princess, though a woman, was decisive in action. Once the idea took root, she immediately ordered preparations to depart for another of her estates.

This estate was vast—three thousand acres! Feng Xiaobao hadn’t expected her to be such a landowner; it was the fruit of years of careful management, beyond what she’d received from the royal family, as she continuously bought up neighboring lands, expanding her domain.

Her estate lay fifty miles from their current location, and they set out with two maids and ten estate guards, all on horseback.

The Princess rode a chestnut mare, strong as a dragon and worth at least five hundred strings of cash. Mounting her horse with poise, she placed her foot on the back of a kneeling servant.

Seeing Feng Xiaobao struggle up onto his mount, the Princess laughed, “Let’s race to see who reaches ten miles out first. Whoever loses prepares tonight’s barbecue!”

No sooner had she spoken than she spurred her horse ahead, leaving Feng Xiaobao to eat her dust.

Feng Xiaobao was helpless—aren’t all women so unreasonable?

In the end, even giving it his all, Feng Xiaobao simply couldn’t catch up to her.

With her veiled hat and hunting attire, galloping across the fields, the Princess’s heroic image was forever etched in Feng Xiaobao’s memory—if only he could capture it in a photograph.

The Princess was an accomplished rider. Tang dynasty women were often skilled in riding, playing polo, and dancing—all activities that shaped their figures and health, making Tang women’s beauty and vitality unmatched by any other dynasty.

In the Tang era, children of mothers adept at riding and dancing were naturally athletic, and in those days, such sports often served as preparation for war. The legacy of the Tang dynasty lives on in Chinatowns around the world, a testament to its strength and the openness and progressiveness of Tang women—far surpassing later feudal eras, where women’s status steadily declined. By the Song dynasty, corrupted by rigid philosophies, women were so weakened that when the capital fell, they suffered unimaginable humiliation.

But Tang women—if men fell in battle, they could mount their steeds and escape!

...

They rode at a steady pace, reaching the estate in two hours.

At the entrance, armed guards stood watch. Upon seeing their mistress, they greeted her with deep respect.

The estate was nestled among seven hills, with fields and orchards where people toiled, and lush forests all around. As they rode deeper, they saw waterfalls cascading down the central hill like silver dragons, feeding a deep pool below, from which a river flowed to irrigate the surrounding farmland.

“All this is mine!” the Princess said, gesturing with her riding whip.

“It’s truly vast!” Feng Xiaobao exclaimed, marveling at her three thousand acres. Tonight, he would have to “wrestle” with this landowner with all his might.

“It’s a pity that buying land is no longer easy,” the Princess sighed. Once, there had been much wasteland, but as Luoyang grew, more nobles and the wealthy expanded their holdings, claiming all the best land within a hundred miles.

Before the estate lay a bustling village; all its inhabitants, young and old, were tenant farmers under the Princess’s dominion.

Tenants, or sharecroppers, had lost all land of their own and rented from landowners. In the Tang dynasty, they were the private dependents of the estate owner, exempt from government taxes and levies, not subject to exploitation from officials, but bound to the household registry of their master. Without their own registration, they couldn’t even obtain identification, and worked the land, performed chores, and fought in battles all their lives for the owner.

They had no personal freedom; unless the owner freed them, they couldn’t even relocate. Leaving without permission was equivalent to being a runaway slave, hunted by the law.

The Princess had the power of life and death over them. Setting up a soap-making workshop here would be completely secure and secret.

...

The estate, named “Green Forest Manor,” was built into the hills, quite different from “Green Willow Manor,” with little sign of human handiwork and entirely enveloped in greenery. Streams meandered through, birds chirped merrily—a pristine and natural environment.

“Not bad at all!” Feng Xiaobao said in delight.

“It’s too desolate. I rarely come here—just once at the start of spring planting and again in autumn to collect the rents,” the Princess disagreed.

“That’s because you don’t know how to enjoy the rustic life,” Feng Xiaobao replied.

The Princess smiled without arguing, wondering at this country boy’s lack of envy for city life—what a curiosity.

Three thousand acres was her hard-earned property, yet she had little affection for it. Chang’an and Luoyang, with their endless entertainments and diverse pleasures, were far more appealing.

Of course, she didn’t know that Feng Xiaobao came from a metropolis of millions in his past life; even the splendor of Chang’an and Luoyang paled in comparison.

Watching Feng Xiaobao roam the mountain paths with excitement, the Princess pondered his uniqueness: despite her exalted status, he showed no awe—his attitude toward her was remarkably equal, unlike anyone else.

Thus, it was she who had been conquered by him, not the other way around! That was the source of her obsession: a woman’s nature is not to conquer, but to be conquered, to be ravished by strength!

She disliked men who were timid and servile in her presence.

To conquer a Tang princess—that was the work of kings and princes. Though he was born a commoner, she sensed in him a vastness of spirit, the capacity to steer great ships.

But it was not only his breadth of spirit; he had the strength to match it. Without true power, ambition alone would be laughable—a dwarf in an overlarge coat.

He possessed real strength—he had easily slain a wild boar that had troubled veteran hunters, could draw a “one-stone bow,” had devised effective medicines, and was now preparing to collaborate with her to make soap!

With a woman’s intuition, the Princess sensed he would bring her even greater surprises in the future.

A young apothecary of humble origin—how could he have developed such abilities? The Princess had sent people to investigate his past and discovered that when he arrived in Luoyang, he was just a poor youth; within a few years, he had soared to unimaginable heights.

Suddenly, the Princess realized she could not see through him.

Feng Xiaobao stopped, waiting for the Princess, who, lost in thought, had slowed her pace. With a bright smile, he reached out his hand to her.

Smiling radiantly, the Princess placed her hand in his. Whatever he might be, as long as she did not betray him, he would never betray her!

...

A group of old men, burly fellows, and several servant women clustered before the Princess, who sat in the place of honor. They paid her solemn respects, trembling—for the woman before them held their lives in her hands.

Dressed in finery and wearing a grave expression, the Princess received their obeisance and listened to their reports. Until now, Feng Xiaobao had only seen her gentle side; now, he saw another facet—majestic and intimidating, making everyone afraid even to cough.

These were the headmen among the tenants, responsible for organizing agricultural production.

Unlike other estate owners, the Princess, being a woman, especially promoted some capable servant women.

Everyone was exceedingly cautious before her. Though curious about the handsome young man at her side, they dared not ask—one never knew if flattery might backfire.

Naturally, the servant women capable of work were not beauties, but Feng Xiaobao was not interested in flirtation, so he was not disappointed.

Listening to their exchanges, he quickly learned the basics of the estate: each household was self-sufficient, men tilling the land, women weaving—subsistence farming with low productivity.

Their clothes were plain but not heavily patched, and their faces looked healthy enough, suggesting that the Princess was not overly harsh.

The routine reports were dull, until a sudden surprise: “...Last year’s harvest yielded more grain, allowing us to brew two hundred and fifty jars of wine; this year, we expect one hundred and eighty...”

Ah, the Princess also owned a winery!

But that was all. What grain she collected was either kept for her own use or turned into wine—nothing else.

No wonder she leapt into action at Feng Xiaobao’s proposal to make soap for profit.

...

After hearing the reports, the Princess offered some encouragement and a few sharp words—her authority as mistress plain to see.

She then dismissed the crowd, keeping only Shi Jiulang, a burly man, and Ding Shiyiniang, a capable middle-aged servant woman, to confer with her.

Shi Jiulang, in his early forties, was tall and muscular—a typical warrior with a fierce visage, marked by two conspicuous scars. He was already a retainer in the Princess’s private guard.

Ding Shiyiniang managed the winery, organized production, was literate, and possessed good administrative skills.

A maid produced a map—an estate chart showing the Princess’s property and its layout.

“The business I am about to undertake must be kept absolutely secret from outsiders,” the Princess said coolly. “Anyone who tries to spy or betray us will be buried in the orchard!”

“Buried alive?” someone asked.

“Yes!” Shi Jiulang and Ding Shiyiniang nodded as if it were only natural. Only Feng Xiaobao was mildly shocked, realizing just how different a princess’s authority could be—this was, after all, the dark side of the feudal age!

Here, lives could be taken without trial by officials. He should be grateful the Princess was merciful. If he tried to impose modern notions of equality and freedom here, he’d be lucky if she didn’t bury him herself!

After consideration, they decided to establish the soap workshop in a valley surrounded on three sides by mountains, with only one exit. There were some buildings there, near a hot spring, though the Princess had rarely visited and the structures had fallen into disuse.

A hot spring would be perfect—it would save heating costs.

The Princess gave her orders: “Repair the road at once, fell wood for ash, and continue building rooms.”

Shi Jiulang and Ding Shiyiniang acknowledged the instructions and withdrew. The Princess turned to Feng Xiaobao: “Tomorrow we’ll bring in the oils and tools, and we can begin our experiment!”

“And today?” Feng Xiaobao asked.

“What do you think?” the Princess replied with a bright smile.

Their gazes entwined, bound tightly together. Hand in hand, they wandered into the dense forest, down to the creekside...