Chapter 22

Another new day dawned as the sun slowly rose in the east.
It was a bright, clear morning, you would never guess a storm had raged there yesterday.
Officer Zeng was sleeping soundly when a knock at the door woke him.
He sat up, frowning, threw on his robe and went to open the door. "What's so urgent this early?" he asked.
One of his subordinates looked frantic. "Chief, someone on my side has collapsed with a high fever that won't break; it's serious."
The prisoners were split into four groups and billeted with different households; he was in charge of one group, how could he not report an incident?
Another constable darted in. "Chief, people on my side are sick too, what should we do?"
Deputy Captain Li hurried over as well. "My area isn't looking good either, someone's burning up with fever."
Officer Zeng rubbed his brow. These people's constitutions were far too weak, they fell ill at the first rain. "Take a headcount: how many in total? Gather the sick together so they're easier to manage."
"Go ask the village head where we can hire a Physician. Get one here at once."
"Yes."
"No one is to run off."
"Yes."
They had no idea until they checked, nearly half the prisoners were sick.
They had all been pampered and lived in luxury; delicate and tender-skinned, they were fragile to the point of breaking.
Old Madam Mu was down with a fever and out of sorts; in her muddled state she grabbed her eldest son's hand demanding roasted venison, of all things.
At Officer Zeng's command, the sick were all moved outside to prevent the illness from spreading.
While they were still discussing, a delicious smell of food wafted in, and everyone looked around involuntarily.
"What a smell... where's that coming from?" Deputy Captain Li suddenly realized and sprinted for the kitchen.
The others followed in a rush, scrambling so they wouldn't miss out.
In the kitchen, smoke hung in the air and the aroma was irresistible, it made them hungry just from the scent.
"Third Miss Mu, what tasty thing have you made?"
A slender figure turned, beaming. "Chicken congee," she said.
She lifted the lid and a steaming pot of chicken congee, rich in color and aroma, greeted their eyes, instantly awakening their appetites.
Second Master Mu ladled congee for everyone; Mu Ziang was in charge of handing out the layered pancakes, and Mu Zicheng passed around portions of pickled radish.
Deputy Captain Li couldn't wait; he took a big spoonful. "Ah, it's hot." Even though it burned him, he wouldn't spit it out; he swallowed it down. It was just too delicious.
Soft, richly fragrant and smooth, it slid down his throat and his stomach felt warm and indescribably comfortable.
The thousand-layer pancake looked paper-thin; one bite revealed a crisp exterior and a savory, tender interior with distinct, fluffy layers, a remarkably rich texture.
He downed two large bowls in one go before finally slowing; the pickled radish was sweet and sour and whetted the appetite.
He never would have expected even the side dishes to be so eye-opening.
"I never knew radish could taste this good, I wouldn't even touch it before."
"This layered pancake with the silky, savory congee is just heavenly."
Mu Wanqing had already taken a portion of her family's and gone back to her room to eat. She'd taken a little extra, worried it wouldn't be enough.
Madam Qian ate with sweat on her brow and couldn't stop praising it.
A knock sounded. Mu Wanqing rose and opened the door to find Mu Rongxue standing there.
"Third Sister." Mu Rongxue insisted she was just passing by, she smelled the food and, somehow, her feet seemed to have a mind of their own and rooted her to the spot.
Her gaze fixed on the enticing congee and she could no longer control her craving; she swallowed hard. "Um... may I buy a portion to eat?"
She couldn't stand another bite of hard rations, she just wanted one delicious mouthful!
Mu Wanqing was surprised. "You have money?"
"I do." Mu Rongxue fished some loose silver from her bosom.
Mu Wanqing didn't ask where the money had come from. "One bowl of congee and a layered pancake, thirty wen."
Mu Rongxue's eyes lit up. She shoved the coins at her and squeezed into the room. "Can I stay and eat here?"
Mu Wanqing nodded slightly. Mu Rongxue could hardly wait; she took a spoonful of congee and the fresh, delicious flavors burst on her tongue, pure relief.
Tears sprang to her eyes. This was real food at last.
"So tasty." She mumbled, speaking with a mouth full as she tried to convey how much she loved it.
She devoured her food like a starving animal, utterly abandoning any image of a proper lady. Madam Qian watched with displeasure, once a favored daughter of the heavens, raised with impeccable table manners, this well-bred gentlewoman had only recently fallen on hard times, and already she had become like this.
Mu Rongxue finished eating; before she could even wipe her mouth she stared pleadingly at Mu Wanqing. “Third Sister, I want to buy some more to take home, let the sick family members all try it.”
Most of the Mu household had fallen ill; she and Mu Jinyao and the other little brats were fine.
It had to be admitted: the cold-dispelling soup had done some good.
Mu Wanqing had prepared a little extra, but supplies were limited. “My father and brothers are still serving the meals; they haven't eaten yet.”
She only handled the cooking; everything else was none of her concern.
Given Mu Rongxue's proud, huffy nature, being refused would usually make her turn and storm off. But looking at the steaming food and remembering how delicious it had been, she... lunged forward, grabbed Mu Wanqing's arm and shook it roughly, once, and then again.
She kept shaking until it became habitual, then shamelessly put on a coaxing tone. “Third Sister, please, I'm begging you. I know you're a good person, fairy sister, beautiful and kind little fairy, please help me.”
Mu Wanqing's mouth twitched; she’d learned that from those little brats, picked up and used on the spot.
Unable to shake her off, Mu Wanqing had to split out a portion; it wasn't much.
Mu Rongxue jumped up happily. “Thank you, Third Sister! You're the best, I like you the most.”
This overly familiar manner left Mu Wanqing speechless. Wasn't she so proud before? Little sister, your persona is collapsing.
Mu Rongxue lifted the food to leave and, when she turned, saw Second Master Mu and his son; both stared with wide eyes, as if they'd seen a ghost.
Her cheeks flushed, then she squared her shoulders and walked over, bowing politely. “Greetings, Second Uncle, greetings, elder brothers. I'm going back now.”
Second Master Mu and his son silently stepped aside and watched her leave.
“What's gotten into that girl? She's like a different person. She used to look down her nose at us and ignore us.”
Madam Qian smiled as she set the food on the table. “People learn when they've suffered a bit.”
Second Master Mu thought about it and had to agree.
After the meal, Mu Wanqing sent her second brother to fetch Officer Zeng.
Officer Zeng had been busy since early morning; by the time he had a moment to spare it was nearly noon.
He stood by the well, a little dazed. “What's the matter?”
Mu Wanqing hesitated a moment. “Officer Zeng, how are things?”
Officer Zeng frowned. “A few people are seriously ill. We'll stay for three days to see how things go.”
“Three days, huh…” Mu Wanqing's eyes rolled mischievously like a fox's. “Officer Zeng, do you want to make some money?”
She decisively tossed out a bait.
Isn't that obvious? The officials didn't endure the hardships of escorting prisoners across a thousand miles for nothing, they were after profit.
Officer Zeng knew she was clever and not one to chat idly. “What are you thinking?”
Mu Wanqing glanced around; only Second Master Mu and his son stood off to one side.
“I have a soap recipe. I plan to make and sell it…”
Officer Zeng didn't understand. “What's that?”
Mu Wanqing looked at him in surprise, her face saying plainly: You don't even know about this?
“It's soapnut, used for scouring, for washing the face and bathing, and it can wash clothes too.”
She had considered countless plans but ultimately chose to make bar soap.
It's easy to start, cheap to produce, compact and portable, and most importantly, there's a vast market.
Officer Zeng knew soapnuts; his own household had used them, though they were somewhat pricey for him.
“Who will you sell to? The poor use wood ash for laundry, it's free; ordinary families use soapnuts; the wealthy use tallow soapbeans, what makes your product special enough that people must buy yours?”
He had a clear mind and saw things sharply.
Mu Wanqing wasn't afraid of his shrewdness, she feared only dullness.
When she bought supplies she had stocked soapnuts; they're made by grinding soap pods.
Soapnuts and soap sound similar, but they're not the same thing.
“Soapnuts aren't very effective at degreasing and are costly, so they won't become widespread. The soap I'm talking about would be inexpensive to produce, highly effective at cleaning, and affordable for every household, that would be a massive consumer market.”
She spoke confidently, eyes shining. “It can be made two ways. One is an inexpensive, practical soap for the common people, don't even get me started on villagers; take ordinary townsfolk. Who wants to mess about with wood ash all the time? It's inconvenient.”
“Once the city uses it, villagers will naturally follow. I fully trust the practical wisdom of working people.”
She paused. “The other is a perfumed soap, made with costly fragrances and shaped beautifully for wealthy households. I can make something better than what they currently have, quality will be the key.”
Officer Zeng was tempted, but cautious by nature, this was no small matter. “I need to think this through…”
Before he could finish, two neatly shaped bars of soap appeared before him. One glowed golden and beautiful like a work of art.
The other was much plainer, rudely ordinary by comparison.
“I made them last night. Would you like to try them, sir?”
Making soap is actually simple; you need only a few things: lime water, lye, and fats.
The fats can be animal fats, like lard.
Wood ash boiled into water becomes alkali; get the ratios right. She'd made soap in a lab and knew it well.
Officer Zeng's eyes widened. He picked up the golden soap, which bore carved patterns, exquisitely detailed and unlike anything he'd seen.
He sniffed gently; a faint, delicate fragrance rose that smelled lovely. “What did you add to this?”
“Wild chrysanthemum.” In autumn, the fields were full of wild chrysanthemums, ready to be picked.
The more Officer Zeng looked, the more he liked it. If he had the money, he'd buy one. “How much does it cost to make one of these?”
Mu Wanqing held up two fingers. “Twenty wen.”
Officer Zeng inhaled sharply; it was cheaper than he'd imagined. “And this one?”
Mu Wanqing looked at the plain bar. “Ten wen.”
Wild chrysanthemums cost nothing, but you must factor in labor.
Officer Zeng felt his blood rush to his head, his blood boiling with excitement. He had a strong premonition: this was a tremendous opportunity.
But he kept his composure. "Let me try first."
He took off the filthy coat and did it himself. After soaking the fabric in the well water, he lathered it with soap and scrubbed hard, the garment came out as clean as new.
His eyes lit up; it really worked better than the soapberries. "Good, excellent, it’s definitely more effective than soapberries. Third Miss Mu, this can be done!"
Mu Wanqing smiled faintly, calm and unruffled. "Then let’s talk about how we’ll cooperate."
She positioned herself as a partner, not a subordinate, and that distinction made all the difference.
Officer Zeng hesitated for a moment, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. "Explain."
Mu Wanqing had already thought it through. She probed lightly, as if it were no big deal. "I provide the formula, you supply the materials, and we split the profits seventy-thirty."
At those words Officer Zeng bristled. She expected to contribute nothing and still claim thirty percent?
"You alone take thirty percent, what about the thirty of us? Do you think that’s fair?"
Had she forgotten she was a convict?
Mu Wanqing remained composed. Pointing at her head with dainty fingers, she said, "I have the formula, I have sales ideas, and I have a brain of pure gold, I’m perfectly entitled. Anyway, how do you know I only have one formula?"
The last line sealed the deal for Officer Zeng. Status didn’t matter, what mattered was making money. "I can only give you ten percent."
Mu Wanqing pursed her lips in mock disdain. "Twenty."
"Fifteen."
She considered for a beat, then her eyes curved with a smile. "Done."
Officer Zeng felt oddly conflicted, wondering all the while if he’d been fooled by this girl.
Mu Wanqing wasn’t worried at all about him backtracking, the core technique was snug in her hands.
"Treat this as an experiment for now. If the cooperation goes well, there will be more."
This was just one step in her plan: she needed to win over these officials and put them to use.
What she wanted was the authority of this unit, sole, absolute control.