Chapter 40: The Idea of Gunpowder

“One part sulfur, two parts saltpeter, three parts charcoal…” In the brightly lit princess’s bedchamber, Wu Yueling muttered to herself. Gunpowder, gunpowder—this thing could not yet be publicly revealed; it had to be researched quietly. With this in mind, Wu Yueling set about sketching designs for cannons and landmines, but her brush was difficult to control, and she could only manage rough outlines.

As a firearms enthusiast—and a master designer in her own right—she had studied many vintage mechanisms, so drawing up a few weapon blueprints was a simple matter.

The next morning, Wu Yueling rose early. Due to the duty roster, today it was Hua Chuer who accompanied her. Summoning Yu Chao’en to drive the carriage, Wu Yueling and Hua Chuer set off, intending to visit the Western Ward.

Meanwhile, at the Duke of Jin’s mansion—

“Lord Li, Lord Li, here is the mysterious Jade Light Pearl from the Western Regions! You must save me—I have offended the Protector Princess…” Di Geng pleaded, his face contorted in distress.

Li Linfu’s brows knit, his salt-and-pepper beard quivering in irritation. Even the Jade Light Pearl couldn’t save you now, he thought, though his words were consoling: “Di Geng, as a Censor, it is your duty to impeach officials. I am sure His Majesty will understand.”

“Yes, yes,” Ji Wen chimed in from the side.

Di Geng, in tears, clung to Li Linfu’s leg, refusing to let go. After a long, awkward standoff and much reassurance, he finally released his grip in despair—he was finished. Lord Li would not protect him.

Leaving the Duke of Jin’s mansion, Di Geng was stifled with anxiety. Clutching his green sleeves, he climbed into his carriage and, after aimless wandering, ended up at the Brocade Pavilion. There, he chose a high-class courtesan, venting his frustrations upon her with drunken violence. Officialdom was unkind; did he not dare take it out on a courtesan? Having released his anger, he tossed a few strings of coins to the madam, left the pavilion, and returned home.

Sitting in the carriage, Wu Yueling watched the passersby as they arrived at the Western Ward—a lively place frequented by many foreign merchants. There were street magicians, strongmen smashing stones on their chests, and other entertainers, but she was not there for the spectacle.

Firstly, she planned to open a restaurant and wanted to conduct a site visit. Each night, Wu Yueling would write an article—really, retelling and embellishing the old stories from Journey to the West that she remembered from her childhood. She had already decided on a name for her establishment: Journey to the West.

Secondly, she was there to buy saltpeter from a pharmacy—it was, after all, a key ingredient for gunpowder. She had already asked Yu Chao’en, who confirmed that saltpeter powder could be found, as it was used by the ancients for disinfection and treating sores.

Alighting from the carriage, Wu Yueling noticed a group of big-nosed, bearded foreigners building a large fire and performing acrobatics, drawing a crowd. One performer pretended to slice his own belly with a knife, but when the blade emerged, his abdomen was unscathed, astonishing the onlookers.

Wu Yueling stood on the steps of a tavern, watching the act and clapping in admiration.

“Honored guest, I am the proprietor of this tavern. Please, come inside and have a seat,” greeted a middle-aged man with a headscarf and blue eyes, speaking politely.

Wu Yueling turned to the beaming proprietor, surprised by his attire: an Arabian-style headscarf matched with Tang dynasty clothing—how curious. “Where are you from?” she asked.

“I am from the kingdom of the Black-Clad Arabs, beyond the deserts of the Western Regions. My name is Zhang Gui, the proprietor of the Trading House Tavern!” He had been here long enough to recognize that anyone dressed like Wu Yueling, with a eunuch attendant in tow, must be of noble blood—likely a princess or imperial kin. He hurried out to greet her.

“Very well,” Wu Yueling replied with a smile, entering the tavern with Chuer and Yu Chao’en.

“Please, honored guest, come in!” Zhang Gui welcomed her enthusiastically.

He was an interesting fellow. Wu Yueling looked around—the place was much like any inn, but with a storyteller inside, spinning tales of local gossip. She listened briefly: the man was witty and humorous, though his stories were mostly trivialities, occasionally interspersed with news—such as a certain official being impeached, or how grand the Protector Princess’s mansion was.

Sipping her grape wine, Wu Yueling found herself enchanted by the stories, often laughing aloud and instructing Yu Chao’en to reward the storyteller with a few copper coins.

Hua Chuer sat with her, Yu Chao’en stood nearby. Wu Yueling left him to his own devices; the little eunuch was not exactly obedient, but he was useful for running errands. Taking another sip, she noticed the wine was quite diluted and called out, “Proprietor Zhang!”

Yu Chao’en echoed her call to Zhang Gui, who was busy with the accounts and hurried over. “How may I serve you, honored guest?”

Wu Yueling swirled the red wine in her bowl, a bit dissatisfied. “Did you water down this wine?”

“Hehe, to be honest, my grape wine is much cheaper than elsewhere, and with so many customers, I add a little water. If it displeases you, I can replace it free of charge…” Zhang Gui’s eyes flashed as he explained, apologizing quickly.

At this, Yu Chao’en grew angry. “This is the Protector Princess! How dare you serve watered wine to the Princess? Outrageous!”

“Ah! Zhang Gui bows before the Princess! Please forgive me—our tavern has always served watered wine for the sake of affordability and profit,” Zhang Gui said, falling to his knees for fear that the Princess would close down his business.

“Forget it—if I were you, I’d do the same. You get what you pay for,” Wu Yueling said, finishing her wine and rising to leave.

She made her way to the pharmacy. Outside, an elderly man in grey was treating the sick for free. His hair, white at the temples, hung to his shoulders, and all—rich, poor, beggar—waited in orderly lines.

At his left stood a burly man with a large wooden staff, keeping watch and never moving. On his right, a young man of about twenty busied himself writing prescriptions. Wu Yueling guessed he was an apprentice or a relative.

Ignoring the medical stall for now, she entered the pharmacy to find a fat merchant bartering with the shopkeeper. Soon, the merchant left, dejected.

Wu Yueling caught enough of the conversation to glean that they were haggling over the price of two loads of saltpeter. The merchant wanted to raise the price by one copper per unit, but the shopkeeper refused, and the deal fell through.

“Wait,” Wu Yueling called as the fat man, scowling, shouldered his goods to leave.

He stopped, puzzled, sizing up Wu Yueling’s attire—she was clearly someone with money.

She picked up a chunk of white mineral, tapped and sniffed it. “Where did you get so much saltpeter?”

“Hehe, madam, that’s a trade secret. Interested in buying? The price is fair—one copper each…”

She cut him off before he could finish his pitch. “I heard your conversation just now. You offered five for a copper to the shopkeeper and he still refused. Why would I buy them at one copper apiece?”

He set down his load, grinning awkwardly, at a loss for words.

“Here’s what we’ll do—Yu Chao’en, take him back to the Princess’s residence. I’ll buy all his saltpeter.”

At her words, the fat man dropped to his knees in excitement. So, she was the Princess! He begged forgiveness for not recognizing her, but Wu Yueling didn’t blame him—though she didn’t think highly of his trickery.

After he gave his name, a commotion erupted at the door. Wu Yueling looked over.

“Move aside! My young master is here to see the doctor—make way! This is Li Jiulang from the Duke of Jin’s mansion—open your eyes and clear the way!”

Li Jiulang, his eyes red and face green, was being half-dragged by his lackeys, who shoved their way through the line—especially into young women, whom Li Jiulang groped with his wandering hands, laughing lecherously. The orderly queue quickly dissolved into chaos.

The old doctor furrowed his brows in anger but could only sigh and flick his sleeves. His assistant, Sun Yimin, frowned as well—this fellow again. Every time he came, he upset his father.

The burly attendant glanced at Sun Yimin, signaling whether he should teach the scoundrel a lesson. Sun Yimin shook his head; this was someone they could not afford to offend. He sighed and returned to writing prescriptions, though his calligraphy grew more erratic. Suddenly, a pained cry interrupted his thoughts, and he looked up.

Wu Yueling had just stepped outside when a rich young man in purple robes was being half-carried straight toward her, face twisted with lust. She thought, this one’s clearly trying to take advantage.

She held back Hua Chuer, not bothering to dodge, and leapt forward—kicking the youth squarely in the chest and sending him flying.

Li Jiulang and his two lackeys tumbled backward several meters. The lackeys merely hit the ground hard, but Li Jiulang rolled straight into the filthy gutter, sputtering and cursing.

Li Jiulang, unlike the mighty Lu Zhishen who could uproot willows, ended up head over heels in a stinking ditch—a sight both comic and pitiable.

The lackeys, too shocked to rail at her, rushed to pull their young master from the black sludge, ignoring the stench.

Li Jiulang coughed up mud, reeking from head to toe, clutching his chest and spitting into the ditch.

“Thank you, heroine!”

“Yes, thank you, heroine!”

“Well done—he had it coming…”

Yu Chao’en was proud to hear the bystanders praise Wu Yueling, about to announce her true identity as the Protector Princess, when Hua Chuer gave him a shove, sending him sprawling. The fat merchant, swallowing nervously, wondered how the Princess could be so fierce—she looked so delicate.

Wu Yueling ignored the commotion, bowing respectfully to the old physician who had been watching. The old doctor beamed, inviting her over.

“Please, sit. May I take your pulse, heroine?” Sun Ruowen stroked his beard and smiled.

“My young mistress isn’t ill—why take her pulse?” Hua Chuer retorted, mistaking his kindness for something else, her brows knitted.

“That’s not how it works. He’s the Divine Physician Sun, healer of all ailments. Everyone in Chang’an knows he’s the people’s doctor, treating the poor for free every day,” someone in the crowd protested.

“Yes, that’s right,” echoed others.

Chastened, Hua Chuer reluctantly let Wu Yueling sit for the consultation, though she remained ill at ease.

“Haha, a steady pulse and robust energy—this heroine is in fine health,” Sun Ruowen announced, prompting cheers from the crowd.

Only Hua Chuer was disgruntled, muttering, “My mistress isn’t sick—you all are!”

Wu Yueling thanked the doctor, accepted a recipe for a tonic, and, after a brief chat, excused herself—there were still many patients waiting.

Through the conversation and interjections from the commoners, Wu Yueling learned that Doctor Sun was famed as a Divine Physician, tending to the people at this very spot every afternoon—a rare and noble soul.

Wu Yueling admired such virtue. In these times, a healer and benefactor was truly uncommon.

“Do you know who my grandfather is? Cough, cough!” Li Jiulang retched, shouting, “Do you know who I am?”

Wu Yueling looked at the mud-covered wretch with disdain. Who cared who his grandfather was—he himself was nothing! She raised a fist at the lackeys, who, terrified, hoisted Li Jiulang and hurried away.

Even as he was carried off, Li Jiulang shouted that he was the Prime Minister’s grandson, vowing revenge. Wu Yueling ignored him, taking the saltpeter merchant back to the princess’s residence.