Chapter 58: The Resentful Brother Arrives in the Capital

The encounter with the young girl from the Xu family was merely a fleeting episode in Zhang Yi’s life. He did not expect to meet that pretty little girl again, and after returning to the Daoist temple, Zhang Yi soon resumed his tranquil existence.

Every morning, he would rise, practice several rounds of Tai Chi to stretch his body, and then busy himself with his own affairs inside his room.

With money flowing into the temple, many things could now be procured. Of all the improvements, Zhang Yi was most focused on the alchemy chamber. External alchemy was a treasured skill passed down by Dragon and Tiger Mountain, and Zhang Zhengchang had left him several alchemical treatises—genuine transmissions from the mountain.

But the treatises were cryptic, filled with coded language and secret formulas. Without a master’s oral teaching, one might recognize every character yet still fail to comprehend the meaning when reading them together.

Nevertheless, Zhang Yi cared little for those arcane alchemical arts; he built the chamber merely to facilitate his own experiments.

Elsewhere, he had instructed Deng Zhongxiu to find workers and dig a three-tier septic tank within the temple grounds, aiming to create a clean and sanitary environment. In these harsh times, living well had always been Zhang Yi’s goal.

To ensure a good life—and to obtain sweets—cleanliness and hygiene were indispensable. In ancient times, unless one was an emperor or noble, the latrines could make one question the very purpose of existence.

The latrine at Qingxin Temple bore no resemblance to those of the noble lords; it was even inferior to those on Dragon and Tiger Mountain. Every day, Zhang Yi pinched his nose as he went, the stench being one thing, but the lack of sanitation quite another.

Hygiene was a matter of life and death in this era, especially for a child of seven or eight—he could not withstand the torment of infectious diseases. Even a bout of diarrhea could be fatal!

Having descended the mountain, Zhang Yi was determined to live better, and he eagerly set about realizing his many ideas.

A toilet with a flushing mechanism could greatly enhance his modest happiness. Achieving this was not difficult—building a small water tower and assembling a flush toilet would suffice. With Zhang Yi providing the template, a kiln could manufacture one, and as for drainage pipes, there was no issue; archaeological finds from the Tang dynasty showed that the ancients already possessed mature pipe-making techniques, with no need for Zhang Yi’s instruction.

Yet, to fulfill his vision of comfortable living, what he needed most was... money!

“Are we about to run out of silver?”

Zhang Yi frowned as he listened to Deng Zhongxiu’s report that day.

He remembered that he had obtained nearly four hundred taels of silver from Zhang Zhengchang and the Chang family, and with the supplies sent by Huang He, the total must have reached at least five hundred taels.

Such a sum, in the early Ming, was equivalent to Liu Bowen’s three-year salary after being ennobled. How could he have spent it all so quickly in his short time in Ying Tian?

Deng Zhongxiu explained helplessly:

“Junior brother, just the custom-made porcelain item you call a ‘toilet’ cost a hundred taels alone, not to mention the pipes… And with all the materials you’ve bought for alchemy and medicine, no pharmacy consumes as much as you do… Here’s the list, please review it!”

Deng Zhongxiu handed him the inventory. Zhang Yi glanced over it and nearly blacked out.

His spending seemed alarmingly swift, but there was little he could do. Aside from the custom porcelain, he had spent plenty elsewhere. Not least, he had bought a large quantity of garlic, but progress on his garlic extract research was disappointing. The technique posed no issue, but finding the right garlic strain required both time and money.

The tools for extracting the garlic compound, as well as the preparations for manufacturing them, were all money burners.

Unbeknownst to him, the small temple had fallen into a financial crisis.

“Junior brother, our temple has scant incense offerings, barely enough to keep us fed, so we must reserve some funds for meals and winter charcoal…”

Ever since the incident with the Chang family, Deng Zhongxiu had shown Zhang Yi great respect. He now also took on the responsibility of managing temple affairs; all temple expenditures were under his charge.

Zhang Yi felt a headache coming on. He had yet to figure out a way to make money, but he certainly knew how to spend it. Unfortunately, luck was not on his side—he still had not found the right garlic strain. If he could produce this antibiotic, making a fortune would no longer be a dream.

But to continue his research, he now had to find a way to earn money.

Where should he find his first pot of gold? As a transmigrator, Zhang Yi had plenty of cards up his sleeve, but with his identity as a Daoist priest, without someone’s help, it was difficult for him to operate directly.

After much thought, Zhang Yi realized he needed a partner to help turn his knowledge into profit.

Just as he pondered this, there was a disturbance outside.

“Where is everybody? It’s daytime at the temple, yet there’s not even a greeter?”

Both Deng Zhongxiu and Zhang Yi were taken aback—this voice was all too familiar.

“Master is here in the capital!”

Deng Zhongxiu abandoned Zhang Yi and hurried outside, where he collided headlong with Zhang Zhengchang.

“Master!”

“Father!”

Who else could it be but Zhang Zhengchang?

After nearly two months apart, Zhang Yi noticed his father’s frame had grown even thinner, with the first hints of gray at his temples.

Although the average lifespan of the ancients was low, Zhang Zhengchang was not yet forty! Clearly, his return from the capital had left him despondent and joyless.

When Zhang Yi called him “father,” the elder Zhang turned to look at his son, his expression complex.

Then, he uttered several words of praise and went over to give Zhang Yi’s shoulder a heavy pat.

“If one day Dragon and Tiger Mountain regains the Celestial Master’s position, your contribution will be unparalleled!”

Zhang Zhengchang spoke in a low voice, so only father and son could hear. Zhang Yi saw the reddening of his father’s eyes and sighed quietly.

To reclaim the Celestial Master’s title was likely only Zhang Zhengchang’s fantasy. No one understood Zhu Yuanzhang better than he did; changing the emperor’s mind was not something a single vaccine could accomplish.

But rather than let Zhang Zhengchang die early from guilt and inner demons, it was better to give him a hope to cling to.

“Father, have you decided to enter the palace and meet the emperor?”

“No rush—the emperor does not have time to see me yet. I’ll meet your Uncle Huang first. Still, you are doing well… All of Dragon and Tiger Mountain owes you a debt!”

“Father, you’re being too formal!”

As father and son spoke with heartfelt sincerity, Zhang Yi felt a pair of eyes on him, sharp as needles.

He turned, only to discover that Zhang Zhengchang had brought some people with him to the capital.

Among them was a small figure who stood out in the crowd.

“Big brother!”

The joy on Zhang Yi’s face was genuine. Though he harbored the soul of an adult, Zhang Yu Chu, as his elder brother, cared for him sincerely, and Zhang Yi truly regarded him as family.

He abandoned Zhang Zhengchang, preparing to embrace his brother.

But Zhang Yu Chu’s face was full of indignant fury:

“Zhang Yi, you’ve gone too far! I’ll fight you to the end…”