Chapter 1158: Chapter 1140: An Ordinary Day
Zhao Hanzhang carried a whole armful of fresh soybeans back. After picking off the leaves, she tossed them into the cauldron along with the stalks, added just enough water to cover them, and set them on the stove to boil.
She wanted to add all sorts of things—star anise, Sichuan pepper, chili and salt, and best of all, a splash of soy sauce—but...there was none of it.
So it was just soybeans boiled in plain water. When they were done, she poured them out to let them cool, then shelled some and handed them to Fu Zhi.
Fu Zhi ate with obvious relish. Princess Hongnong’s chicken soup was still simmering, and he smiled as he invited them all to eat together.
"Think of it as a little snack."
The family of five sat on small stools, shelling and eating soybeans.
It was Princess Hongnong’s first time eating such a thing. She glanced at Zhao Hanzhang and clumsily imitated her, popping a whole pod into her mouth, but she couldn’t spit out an intact shell; instead she bit off half the pod shell and beans together.
So disgusting!
Even worse than bean rice. Why were they eating unripe soybeans? Couldn’t they wait until the beans were mature?
Fu Xuan, sitting beside her, saw this and took the soybeans from her hand, shelling two beans for her. "If you can’t shell them with your mouth, can’t you at least use your hands?"
Princess Hongnong’s face flushed scarlet. She turned and glared fiercely at him.
Fu Tinghan saw his parents about to quarrel again. He hesitated, then lifted his head to look at Fu Zhi.
Fu Zhi pretended not to notice. He waved a hand at Zhao Hanzhang and went on shelling and eating himself.
He had a good appetite and ate quite a lot with evident enjoyment. Then he laughed and said, "We mustn’t dare be this extravagant in the future. Just this armful of soybeans, if we waited for them to ripen and dry, would be enough to feed a family of five for three days."
But now, all for the sake of gluttony, they were only enough for the five of them as a little appetizer. It was truly sinful.
Zhao Hanzhang smiled. "I don’t see it that way. I hope that in future every household will be willing to eat fresh soybeans like this—and be able to throw in salt and seasonings when they boil them."
Rice and wheat may be hard to come by at will for the next two or three years, but surely soybeans aren’t out of the question?
Hearing this, Fu Zhi burst out laughing. "Then the Great General will have to work hard. This is not something that can be done in a day."
Zhao Hanzhang smiled and agreed.
Princess Hongnong looked at Zhao Hanzhang, then at Fu Zhi, and silently lowered her eyes to eat her soybeans.
By afternoon, when Fu Zhi ate the chicken soup noodles the three of them had made together, he was thoroughly satisfied.
Smiling, he said to Zhao Hanzhang, "Hanzhang, you and Ting Han go out and stretch your legs for a bit. The Princess and I have some things to talk about."
Zhao Hanzhang agreed, pulled Fu Tinghan out the door, and even took the servants and personal soldiers with her.
The sun was still hanging in the western sky, bright as could be. She wandered around and, finding nothing to do, asked the Posthouse Minister, "I see there are only three people working here in the post station including you. Where are the others?"
The Posthouse Minister hurried to answer, "They’ve all gone to the fields to pull weeds and catch insects."
There were no herbicides and no pesticides; weeding and pest-catching all relied on manual labor. As soon as Zhao Hanzhang heard this, she rolled up her sleeves. "Come on, I’m bored anyway. Let’s go too."
Zhao Hanzhang left enough people behind to guard the post station and took everyone else to the fields.
There weren’t enough hoes, so they could only pull weeds by hand.
Fu Tinghan had pulled weeds three times; twice the roots snapped. He stood there in silence for a while, then turned to watch Zhao Hanzhang. It was the same dry earth—he had no idea how she did it—but every time, she managed to pull the weeds up, roots and all.
Noticing him looking at her, Zhao Hanzhang stopped what she was doing and glanced at the broken length of weed in his hand. "You have to use a bit of finesse when you pull. Give it a little shake, then pull upward with force, and you can get the whole root out."
Fu Tinghan watched her movements and tried to imitate them. This time was even worse; a long length of root snapped off in the soil.
Zhao Hanzhang couldn’t help bursting into hearty laughter.
Fu Tinghan patted the dirt from his hands and stood up. "Where’s your knife? I’m going to whittle a tree branch."
How would Zhao Hanzhang dare let him go chop a branch by himself? She went with him.
Carrying a knife, Zhao Hanzhang followed him to the small grove by the field ridge and watched as he walked through the trees, patting and inspecting them. Then he picked out a branch about as thick as a baby’s arm. "This one."
Zhao Hanzhang cut it for him and then whittled it into a flat point.
"Wouldn’t a rounded point be better? Why make it flat?"
Holding the branch, Fu Tinghan went back into the field. Keeping a little distance from the weed roots, he simply thrust it downward and pushed. He pushed and shaved back and forth; the branch went down quite a way, then he used his hand to pull up the loosened weeds. A few shakes to knock off the dirt, and that stretch of ridge was clean—without so much as a thread of weed left.
The weeds clinging close to the bean roots were easy to deal with too. He jabbed the stick in and pried outward, and the weeds lifted right up.
This was much faster than her brute-force pulling. Zhao Hanzhang watched, thoughtful. "I remember there’s a kind of farm tool in the countryside that’s made just for weeding. I don’t know what it’s called. It’s like what you’re doing—only with two points—and also a bit like a hoe. They come in different lengths and sizes, used in different places."
She had only seen it once, when she’d gone to play in the countryside as a child, and the memory was vague. It was only seeing him work like this that brought it back to her.
When it came to farm tools, the two of them only really remembered what was in their history and politics textbooks. In truth, they probably knew less than Shen Ruhui.
Fu Tinghan lowered his head to study the branch in his hand, frowning slightly. "If we want to save even more effort, we can indeed model it after a hoe. For weeding, it’d be better shaped like a claw."
Isn’t weeding just using your hands?
Then make it like a claw. Mm, it could also be made like two fingers; that would save on materials.
If it’s all iron, won’t the cost be too high?
Besides iron, what else would be suitable?
Wood?
But ordinary wood would wear down quickly; it wouldn’t last long. Or perhaps some special kind of wood?
Otherwise, design iron finger-sheaths, like artificial nails you can slip on. Only the part that does the hoeing would be iron; the rest could be wood. Then what should the length and width be, and the gaps between the iron fingers?
When Zhao Hanzhang finished weeding and came back, Fu Tinghan was still frozen in the same pose, clutching the branch and lost in thought. She glanced back at the setting sun behind her; by her estimate, it would be completely dark in another half hour or so. She squatted in front of him and waved a hand before his eyes.
Fu Tinghan came back to himself. "I’ll get back to weeding right away."
"No more weeding. It’s almost dark. Let’s go back." Zhao Hanzhang pulled him to his feet.
As soon as he stood up, everything from his knees down—especially the soles of his feet—felt as if they were being stabbed with needles, then went numb, the numbness and pain hitting at once.
Zhao Hanzhang rubbed his legs for him. Fu Tinghan bent over too, trying to block her hands while he grimaced and kneaded his own legs. "I’ll do it, I’ll do it myself."
When your legs are numb, having someone else rub them really hurts.
Only after he finally worked out the pins and needles did the two of them shoulder the branch and walk back hand in hand.
Most of the Soldiers had already returned. Those remaining, seeing them finally heading back, followed at a respectful distance.
Fu Zhi was sitting at the post station gate, with Princess Hongnong and Fu Xuan at his side. He saw Zhao Hanzhang and Fu Tinghan in the distance, walking back hand in hand. From their labor, both their clothes were stained with mud, their sleeves rolled up past the elbows, their shoes filthy, and yet they were completely at ease, not the slightest bit flustered.
Fu Zhi couldn’t help but smile and say softly, "Princess, do you see? She’s different from everyone else. With her here, the realm can be at peace."
Princess Hongnong stared blankly at Zhao Hanzhang as she walked toward them. A Great General of the realm, the Great Jin’s Regent King in all but name, had actually rolled up her sleeves and gone down to weed the fields, packing mud into the crevices of her fingernails.
Prince East Sea would never do such a thing. Gou Xi wouldn’t either. Even she, a fallen Princess, would never do it.
