Chapter Seventy-One: Tang Zhiling's Premonition

After they left, Princess Qianjin smiled brightly and said, “I heard, Xiaobao, that you slew the ‘Mountain God’, learned agriculture, ate locusts, and accomplished great deeds!”

“Oh, not at all!”

“Xiaobao, your agricultural skills are so refined. First came biogas, which proved effective for fertilization, and now you’ve built irrigation channels. I never would have thought of it,” Princess Qianjin remarked.

“Ahem, it was all from my experiences in the countryside…” Feng Xiaobao had repeated this line countless times, so much so that he couldn’t even be bothered to find another excuse. This left the princess shaking her head in silence, but it also deepened her understanding of Feng Xiaobao’s capabilities.

At the same time, her perception of Xiaobao’s character grew. After the family guards sent by Princess Qianjin perished, Xiaobao took responsibility for compensating their families, promising generous rewards. Grateful, they went to the princess’s manor to express their thanks, which is how she learned of the matter.

To outsiders, Feng Xiaobao appeared to be little more than a “martial man,” spending most of his time practicing martial arts, mastering both bare-handed combat and weaponry. Besides that, business was his real expertise; he read little and couldn’t compose poetry or couplets. It seemed his martial prowess far outweighed his literary talents.

Yet, as Princess Qianjin came to know him, the invention of soap made clear his intelligence was extraordinary! Then came biogas, irrigation channels, locust eradication, and more—especially the sand table, which showed her that Xiaobao’s wisdom was as deep as the sea.

What was visible was only the tip of the iceberg. Princess Qianjin became truly curious: where did his ingenuity come from?

He always claimed, “I learned it in the countryside.” What an incredible countryside that must be!

Princess Qianjin had her own estate, yet she’d never encountered such things.

A man of both martial and intellectual strength—she had never met such a prodigy. Thus, she said nothing about Xiaobao being close to Tang Tian, nor did she inquire about what Elder Jian Sanlang had mentioned in the manor. She comforted Jian Sanlang, telling him not to provoke Xiaobao.

…

While Feng Xiaobao and Princess Qianjin conversed, others were also talking about him.

In Xiaobao’s small manor outside the city, Tang Tian slept peacefully in the main chamber.

Ancient etiquette was strict—where wives and concubines could reside in a grand estate was all prescribed by custom. The main hall and chamber were reserved for the household’s mistress to command. By having Tang Tian stay there, Xiaobao’s intentions were clear.

Tang Tian, of Hu heritage, moved boldly into the manor. The quarters were spacious, bright, and well-appointed. Among the amenities was a “flush toilet,” which amazed her.

The toilet paper beside it further piqued her curiosity!

After using it, Tang Tian found it extremely convenient. Along with the water tower for bathing and the fragrant soap and soap bars, the maids explained they were all inventions of the household master, Xiaobao. Tang Tian realized this man was a mystery—he possessed not just fists, but brains.

Of course, after Xiaobao arrived, how could he not invent things? Simple inventions like the flush toilet were easy enough; paper was already used in the Tang dynasty, albeit costly, but Xiaobao could afford it. Why not use it to improve life?

Yet he didn’t promote these innovations, only used them at home, so only those close to him learned from them.

Because his household was involved in pharmaceuticals, secrecy was paramount, and maids and servants dared not speak about it outside.

After Tang Tian’s experience, her impression of Xiaobao was much like Princess Qianjin’s: where did his wisdom come from?

…

Around seven in the evening, still early, a maid announced that Tang Tian’s cousin, Tang Zhiling, had come to visit and requested an audience.

He entered the inner hall and was surprised by the tables and chairs: “He (Xiaobao) is obviously Han, yet his seating is entirely Hu-style!”

In the Tang dynasty, hosts and guests typically knelt, unlike later times when everyone sat on chairs with their feet on the ground. The Hu stool—folding stool—began to gain popularity during the Tang era, for sitting on chairs was comfortable, but the distinction between Hu and Han customs (sitting on Hu stools was considered Hu-style, kneeling was the most traditional Han way) prevented it from becoming widespread.

Xiaobao’s outer reception hall followed Han custom, with everyone kneeling, but his inner chambers were entirely “Hu-style.” Why kneel when chairs were so much more comfortable!

Not only chairs—Xiaobao had templates from his previous memories and, being wealthy, commissioned unique tables and chairs. They were grand armchairs, and even three rocking chairs (usually the three brothers rocked together), which caught everyone’s eye!

His cousin sat on a rocking chair, gently swaying, and Tang Zhiling also sat down, rocking a few times, finding it very comfortable!

“Who would have thought Feng Dalang would… embrace Hu customs so!” Tang Zhiling exclaimed.

It was entirely unconventional, thoroughly abandoning the Han kneeling tradition. The armchair seat was spacious—was it meant for cross-legged sitting? (The Tang dynasty had three main seating styles: kneeling, cross-legged (like monks), and dangling legs (Hu-style).)

“No, Xiaobao is thoroughly Han in his thinking!” Tang Tian shook her head.

“Oh?” Tang Zhiling was slightly surprised.

“I chatted with him. He didn’t say much, but what came through was an ambition to unify the tribes, insisting on the use of Han language!” Tang Tian was far from being a scatterbrained woman; her mind was as sharp as her arrows.

“Hmm!” Tang Zhiling didn’t dwell on that, but told her, “Today I made inquiries about Feng Dalang.”

“How did it go?” Tang Tian showed genuine concern.

“He’s highly skilled at martial arts, far surpassing his peers; adept at making money, pharmaceuticals, soap, with substantial income; kind-hearted, fond of doing good deeds; and his dance is superb—his ‘Thunderbolt Third Prince’ is a novel Daoist dance, said by contemporaries to be the descent of a Daoist guardian deity! He’s also well-acquainted with Li Immortal’s disciple, Xuanqing…” Tang Zhiling spoke at length, recounting all he had learned.

He was taciturn in public, but talkative when planning for his cousin.

It all sounded like praise: he could make money, was skilled, strong, and upright—he had every virtue.

Tang Tian and her cousin dispensed with formalities, asking bluntly, “What do you think?”

Tang Zhiling replied cautiously, “His qualifications are almost too good!”

“Your cousin is no less!” Tang Tian retorted.

Indeed, Tang Tian was a fair, wealthy beauty, skilled in archery, and could be compared to Xiaobao—well matched.

“He… is quite close to Princess Qianjin!” Tang Zhiling dropped a bombshell.

“The princess is already old!” Tang Tian replied after a brief pause.

Exactly—Tang Tian’s perspective was as precise as her archery!

For men, the pursuit of women boils down to “young and beautiful.”

Tang Tian was young, privileged, and brimmed with confidence!

What of the princess? She’d outshine her all the same!

“I fear that in the future, it won’t just be the princess he attracts!” In Tang Zhiling’s view, his judgment was sharp; Feng Xiaobao was complex, and his future full of uncertainty.

“We’ll deal with it then!” Tang Tian replied nonchalantly.

At the time, Tang Tian, not yet nineteen, was proud and confident, blooming like a peony, filled with hope for the future.

Seeing he couldn’t persuade Tang Tian, Tang Zhiling sighed softly and said no more.

His prediction was correct, though he never imagined the formidable figures Feng Xiaobao would attract in the future, leaving both Tang Tian and Tang Zhiling utterly astounded… Xiaobao’s abilities were truly extraordinary!