ATPnovel Chapter 27 Empress Zhangsun's Persuasion
Chapter 27 Empress Zhangsun's Persuasion
Empress Zhangsun slowly sat up, gently tucked the blanket around Sizi, and looking at the burning light in her husband's eyes, she said softly, "Your Majesty, I believe this matter is not urgent."
Li Shimin paused and turned to look at her.
"Your Majesty, consider this: with such talent and being from a collateral branch of a prominent family, if Wang Langjun truly sought fame and fortune, he would have actively pursued an official career long ago. Why would he choose to live in seclusion on a farm, content to farm and live a simple life?"
Empress Zhangsun spoke gently and earnestly, “He chose a life of leisure and tranquility, cultivating a few acres of land, raising a few cats and dogs, and living a peaceful and carefree life. What he sought was never fame or fortune in the court, but rather freedom of mind and body.”
"If His Majesty were to reveal his identity rashly and issue an edict summoning him to court, he would be disobeying the imperial decree if he did not comply; if he did comply, he would be betraying his own feelings and putting both sides in a difficult position."
Empress Zhangsun paused, then looked at the gentle and shy Chang Le beside her, a hint of understanding in her eyes. "This is the best situation right now. He doesn't know His Majesty's identity, so he speaks from the heart. His Majesty can also use this opportunity to visit and chat, and see his true ambitions."
"If he truly desires to enter the court, it will naturally show. At that time, Your Majesty can then go with the flow and achieve harmony between the ruler and his minister."
Now, it's better to let things take their course, without pressuring or forcing him, and let him live his life in peace.
Li Shimin stood in the hall, silent for a long time, then suddenly chuckled and nodded: "You're right. I was too hasty. I only thought about treasuring his talent, but I overlooked his character."
He sat back down on the couch, his tone softening: "Then let's do as you say, don't pressure him, let him focus on growing rice on the farm and taking care of your health."
"More valuable to me than having him serve in the court is the opportunity to frequently hear such heartfelt and honest words."
Empress Zhangsun smiled slightly: "Your Majesty is wise."
Chang Le sat quietly to the side, listening to her parents' conversation. Her hands, hanging by her sides, clenched gently. She felt both relieved and conflicted, with a mix of emotions she couldn't quite explain.
She secretly thought that if Wang Zhi could stay in this quiet farm and maintain this carefree and open-minded attitude, it would be a good thing. At least in the future, she could use the excuse of visiting Si Zi to come here often and see the person who made her feel warm and shy.
The candlelight flickered again, and the hall fell silent once more, with only the soft sound of Si Zi's even breathing.
On a spring night in the ninth year of the Zhenguan era, inside the Lizheng Hall of the imperial palace, the emperor and empress of the Tang Dynasty quietly discussed the fate of a farm owner.
Meanwhile, in a small farmhouse courtyard far outside the city, Wang Zhihuan was leaning against a jujube tree, petting the cat and dog rubbing against his feet, looking up at the courtyard bathed in the soft moonlight, and letting out a contented burp, basking in the tranquility and comfort of everyday life.
…………
In April of the ninth year of the Zhenguan era, a warm breeze began to blow, and the summer heat had quietly crept in.
Wang Zhi was still squatting in the kitchen, holding a fire poker and gently poking at the embers in the stove.
A few sparks fell, then quickly faded away. The water in the pot bubbled and churned, and wisps of white steam rose up, covering half of the earthen wall and spreading out a warm, moist mist.
He gazed at the flickering firelight, a thought forming in his mind.
The idea of brewing wine had been dormant in his heart for a long time. He had always loved wine but never overindulged, and always knew how to drink in moderation.
In my maternal grandfather's previous life, he had a particular fondness for homemade rice wine. Every December, he would wash rice, steam it, mix it with yeast, put it into jars, seal them, and store them in the cellar, as if preserving the most precious treasure in the world.
As a child, he would always squat by the side and watch. He learned by observation and not only memorized every step of the winemaking process, but also learned the secrets of good wine from his grandfather. However, he was always self-disciplined and never indulged in drinking.
However, I've been lacking a reason to start brewing it myself.
A few days ago, when the Cheng brothers passed by the farm and asked for water, he suddenly had the idea of brewing wine.
It wasn't that the Tang Dynasty lacked wine. Restaurants lined the streets of Chang'an, and the Hu Ji Wine Shop in the East Market was always packed with customers. Even the tenant farmers in the countryside would buy a few ounces of cloudy wine to satisfy their cravings during festivals.
But no matter what kind of wine it was, it was bland as water, and even had a sour and turbid smell. It had no trace of the mellow and fragrant aroma that a fine wine should have. Even a small sip was not very flavorful.
If one can brew a fine wine, without seeking profit from it, enjoying it oneself, having a small sip to add to the enjoyment, or entertaining close friends, or giving it as a gift to neighbors during festivals, then there is no better day than this.
However, his farm was newly established and lacked all necessary equipment. Not to mention the special brewing utensils, even the stove in front of him was built by his own hands. If he wanted to brew wine, he would have to start from scratch.
He spent two days clearing a space in the northwest corner of the backyard, removing weeds, picking up stones, and loosening the soil.
The cellar for brewing wine does not need to be too large; a depth of three feet is sufficient. Dig it to chest height, lay fine sand at the bottom, and cover it with thick wooden planks on top. This will make it an excellent place to store wine.
The stove in the kitchen is still usable, but the steamer needs to be remade. Fir wood is the most suitable material, as it prevents grain from sticking to the bottom of the pot and ensures even heating.
Several large, open-mouthed, thin-walled earthenware jars are also needed for grain fermentation, and they should be placed in a simple shed built in a shady spot by the water.
The matter was complicated, and although he could accomplish it all by himself, it would be time-consuming and laborious. Just digging the cellar alone would take three days.
Just as he was secretly worrying, the sound of clear hooves came from outside the courtyard gate. Judging from the sound, it was two fine horses.
"Brother Wang! Is Brother Wang at home?"
A familiar voice came from behind; it was Cheng Chumo, with Cheng Chuliang beside him.
Wang Zhi cleaned the dust off his hands, stepped out, and opened the door.
The Cheng brothers dismounted, each carrying a cloth bag, while their horses were also laden with other items.
Cheng Chumo moved swiftly, tying the reins to the hitching post, and laughed loudly, "I'm not here today to ask for water; I've brought fine wine to share with you, Brother Wang."
He patted the wine flask on his horse and laughed heartily: "This is some new tribute wine that I found at my father's place. Drinking alone is no fun. Knowing that you, Brother Wang, appreciate wine, I came here to share a drink with you."
Cheng Chuliang, standing nearby, sniffed the enticing aroma and exclaimed with delight, "Brother Wang, have you cooked something delicious in your kitchen? The smell is so tempting!"
"It's just braised pig's trotters in fermented soybean paste, simmered over low heat for almost an hour."
Wang Zhihuan stepped aside to open the courtyard gate. "Please come in, both of you. There's braised pork stewing on the stove, and freshly steamed egg custard. It'll go perfectly with the wine you brought. Let's have a lively meal and a few drinks."
Upon hearing this, Cheng Chuliang's eyes lit up, but then he hesitated: "Pig's feet? Pork?"
"That's right." Wang Zhihuan nodded.
"To be honest, Brother Wang, the cook at home often says that pork has an unbearable fishy smell and a coarse texture, and it has never been suitable for fine dining." Cheng Chuliang scratched his head, his tone full of doubt.
Wang Zhihuan smiled faintly and said nothing more: "It's alright, let's try it first and then draw a conclusion."