People in the Ming Dynasty are lawless

Chapter 728 The two of them are drunk
The hoe suddenly hit the tip of Chen Han's boots, and the splashed mud looked like scattered beads in the sunset. "What kind of anti-counterfeiting pattern did you make?" Zhu Yuanzhang's voice mixed with the gurgling sound of tofu grinding in the distance, "It's much better than the seals of the Ministry of Revenue - but remember, no matter how good the fertilizer is, you can't spread it all at once!"

Chen Han's knees under his official robe touched the wet soil. He saw freshly picked leeks and several copies of the Hongwu Account Book piled together in the bamboo basket at the old emperor's feet. The mud on the roots of the vegetables stained the handwriting of "123 shi".

"I will remember this." He held up the glass with both hands. When the sunlight penetrated through, it cast a triple shadow of "7" on the ground. "Just like the crop rotation in this vegetable patch, the key accounts are rooted in capital numbers, and the ordinary transactions are loosened with new numbers."

Zhu Yuanzhang suddenly laughed, startling the sparrows on the treetops. He grabbed the leeks and stuffed them into Zhu Biao's arms, and the black mud between his fingernails rubbed against the prince's apricot-yellow collar. "Biao'er, tell me this at the court tomorrow morning - our Zhu family's fields must have both compacted soil to retain moisture and a few soft plots for growing seedlings!"

As dusk deepened, a rustling sound came from behind the three people. Several young eunuchs were cleaning the ridges of the fields with brooms made of waste vouchers. The indigo paper strips fluttered in the evening breeze, just like the numbers falling in the new account books of the Ministry of Revenue.

Zhu Yuanzhang suddenly kicked over a basket of dirt, and the broken dirt rolled to Chen Han's feet. "See? These hard lumps look solid, but they will break if you step on them." He bent down and picked up a piece of waste paper mixed with gold foil. "But these 'ghostly talismans' you made are..." He rubbed the paper into a ball in his palm, and when he unfolded it, the gold thread pattern was still clear. "Does it look like the formula of the women's workshop for dyeing cloth? The more you rub it, the more real it looks."

The sweet aroma of steamed rice cakes wafted from the imperial kitchen, and Zhu Biao discovered a piece of chive leaf stuck in his father's white hair. The old emperor casually stuffed the waste ball into the cloth bag at his waist, which also contained a few grains of Ryukyu sea sand begged from the Institute of Physics.

"Let's go back." Zhu Yuanzhang picked up his hoe and walked deeper into the vegetable patch, his back silhouette stretched out by the setting sun. "Tell that stubborn old man Zheng Qingzhuo what we said - the land is dead, people are alive, how can there be a farming method that remains unchanged for thousands of years?"

When the last ray of golden light passed over the tip of the chive leaf, Chen Han saw the old emperor squatting down and scratching a big "7" on the soft soil with the handle of the hoe. The mark was deeply engraved in the soil, more vivid than any red ink.

The palace lanterns lit up one after another, making the vegetable patch in the imperial garden look like it was covered with a layer of golden gauze. Zhu Biao suddenly grabbed Chen Han's sleeve and said, "Look--"

In the drainage ditch at the edge of the vegetable field, a few pieces of waste vouchers swirled with the water, gradually spelling out the crooked word "Hongwu". As the water rushed through, the words scattered and reorganized, turning into the Arabic numerals "3.5".

Farther away, Zhu Yuanzhang was handing the hoe to his personal eunuch. The old man took out an oil-paper bag from his bosom, which contained a piece of rose cake with anti-counterfeiting patterns printed on it - it was a test product sent by the Women's Workshop this morning. He broke off a corner and threw it into the vegetable patch, startling a few sparrows that were stealing food.

"Remember." The old emperor's voice mixed with the sound of sparrows flapping their wings came, "Governing a great country is like growing vegetables. Don't be stingy when you need to turn the soil, and don't waste time when you need to conserve moisture!"

The night wind swept across the vegetable patch, and the tender green chive seedlings swayed gently under the glazed palace lanterns. Chen Han suddenly thought of the sand tables in the Physics Institute that were filled with mathematical formulas drawn by the female workers - traces of the alternation of the old and the new, which had been kneaded neatly in the palm of the founding emperor's hand.

……

The afterglow of the setting sun slanted through the carved window lattices of the Shangshenjian, casting mottled light and shadows on the blue brick floor.

When Chen Han stepped over the threshold carrying a half-jar of Jinhua wine, he ran into Zhu Biao, who was cutting braised beef on the chopping board with his sleeves rolled up. The Crown Prince's slender fingers held the kitchen knife, and as the knife flashed, the thin slices of meat bloomed like petals on the celadon plate.

"My father-in-law, you have excellent knife skills." Chen Han broke the mud seal on the wine jar and poured the amber wine into the glass cup. The splashing water droplets looked like broken gold in the twilight. "I'm afraid even the head chef would be ashamed to see this skill."

Zhu Biao picked up a piece of beef and looked at it in the sunset. His smiling eyes were reflected in the light of the meat. "I learned this from a butcher in Fengyang when I accompanied my father on a secret visit."

He suddenly shook his wrist, and the piece of meat fell steadily into the cup in front of Chen Han. "The old man said that cutting meat is like governing a country. You can't make it too thick where it should be thin, and you can't make it too long where it should be cut."

The aroma of wine mixed with the salty and fresh taste of the marinade filled the room.

Chen Han raised the cup and tapped the edge of the table, startling a bird perched on the beam and causing it to flap its wings and fly away.

As the two men raised their heads to drink, the iron horses on the eaves were stirred by the evening breeze, making clear tinkling sounds.

"It feels so good!" Zhu Biao slammed the table, shaking the meat slices on the plate. He suddenly lowered his voice and asked, "When your father kicked you just now, did he really use 70% of his strength?"

He dipped his fingertips in the wine and drew a boot print on the table. "I see the mud print on the hem of your official robe. It's three points deeper than the roots of the chives in the vegetable patch."

Chen Han laughed as he filled two more glasses. From outside the window came the sound of the imperial chefs cooking, the clatter of the iron pots and spatulas, which seemed to set the rhythm for their conversation.

"Grandpa is reminding me, my son-in-law..." He flicked the dry mud on the corner of his robe with his fingers, "The soil should be turned deeply, and the fertilizer should be applied evenly."

A plate of peanuts soaked in vinegar and drizzled with sesame oil was pushed over.

Zhu Biao picked up a round one and shone it against the glass lamp: "Just like this new accounting method? It looks rough, but it has a lot of secrets inside."

As the peanut kernels cracked between his teeth, he suddenly narrowed his eyes, "Did you know that Zheng Qingzhuo secretly asked an apprentice from the Physics School to learn how to write the number '7' this morning?"

The clash of wine cups startled the insects under the lamp.

Chen Han picked up a piece of crystal jelly. The osmanthus petals sealed in the jelly looked like amber under the light.

"That stubborn old man practiced for three times and finally traced a crooked '100' on his grandson's copybook."

As the frozen block melted on his tongue, he imitated the trembling voice of an old official, "'The vertical strokes should be straight, and the circles should be round. This foreign style is more annoying than the official script!'"

The laughter caused dust to fall from the beams.

Zhu Biao suddenly shook out a crumpled roll of paper from his sleeve, and when he unfolded it, it turned out to be a purchase order from Zhang Dyeing Factory - there were densely packed red comments next to the Arabic numerals, and the latest one, which read "delivery in three days", had the "three" in it crossed out and replaced with a slightly stiff "3".

"That was a joke last night from Uncle Liu's accountant." The Crown Prince drew a circle on the table with his hands dipped in wine. "That old man mistook '3.5' for 'three and five' and insisted that the dyeing factory had received three stone and five dou of indigo."

He added a few ripples in the circle with his fingertips. "The young master of the Liu family was so angry that he smashed the inkstone on the spot and shouted that he would send him to the Jinguo Workshop to learn mathematics."

The evening breeze brings the sweet and sour aroma of sweet and sour fish.

Chen Han scooped up a spoonful of the crab roe tofu that had just been served. The tender white tofu was dotted with golden and shiny crab roe. "If we want to put learning into practice, we have to look to the Xu family."

He blew away the cool air. "This morning, their account office used '1' and '7' to spell out a loom pattern. They said they wanted to apply for an exclusive seal of some 'digital pattern'."

Zhu Biao paused with the tip of his silver chopsticks on the tofu, pulling out long strands of crab roe.

"That bunch of profiteers!" He suddenly laughed. "Yesterday they were still calling Arabic numerals barbaric scribbles, but today they're thinking about patents."

As the tofu melted in his mouth, he suddenly lowered his voice and said, "But the girls in the Physics Department are even more amazing. I heard that they used the symbol of 'π' to design the gears for the new loom?"

After three rounds of drinks, the moonlight has climbed up the window frame.

Chen Han unbuttoned his collar and picked up a jar of newly opened Shaoxing Huang and shook it: "Father-in-law, do you know what Old Zheng is obsessed with recently?"

When he poured wine, he deliberately let the wine draw out thin silver lines. "Every night, he asked his grandson to teach him to recite multiplication formulas. If he got a sentence wrong, he would be punished by writing ten '8's."

"No wonder his handwriting has been so messy these days!" Zhu Biao clapped his legs and laughed, making the jade pendant on his waist jingle. Before he stopped laughing, he suddenly heard rustling noises outside the window. Several young eunuchs were peeking through the window frame, and the youngest one was holding a copy of "Algorithm Tongzong" in his hand.

Chen Han pushed open the carved window, and the night breeze filled with the fragrance of osmanthus blew in his face.

He took out the copper coins and threw them out like a magic trick. When the coins fell to the ground, they formed a neat "9".

"Go tell the imperial chef to add West Lake vinegar fish." He turned to Zhu Biao and winked, "Choose 3.2 jin grass carp - remember to use the new scale!"

After the young eunuchs dispersed with laughter, Zhu Biao suddenly said seriously: "Seriously, how did you come up with the idea of ​​dyeing cloth with waste vouchers?"

He tapped the edge of the cup with his fingertips. "That day by the Xuanwu Lake, the way father stared at the rainbow cloth was like he had seen a magical art of turning beans into soldiers."

The moonlight shattered into sparkling silver flakes on the wine. Chen Han thought of the boiling pulp water and the pulp scraps in Zhu Youwei's hair. "It was Aunt Liu from the Women's Workshop who first discovered it."

He picked up a piece of newly served vinegar fish, the fish meat trembling on the tip of the chopsticks. "She said that the water made from the waste is particularly bright when used to wash clothes, so Xiaotao tried to dye a handkerchief."

The sour and sweet taste of the fish meat bloomed on his tongue, and he seemed to see Zhu Biao squatting in front of the dye vat that day, with the hem of his dragon robe covered with colorful spots. "Later, I realized that the metal powder in the Ryukyu sea sand reacted with paper pulp, just like..."

As he got drunk, he used fish bones to make a chemical formula on the table. "It's like new numbers meeting old account books. They seem incompatible, but in fact--"

"In fact, it can make the whole house applaud!" Zhu Biao suddenly replied, and the silver chopsticks knocked on the porcelain plate with a tinkling sound.

The two looked at each other and laughed, startling the night heron on the old locust tree outside the window, which fluttered into flight. When its wings passed over the moon, a string of clear light was cast.

When the wine jar was empty, the sound of the night watchman's clapperboard came from a distance.

Zhu Biao suddenly hooked his arm around Chen Han's shoulder in a drunken state, "Do you know what I admire most about you?" The Crown Prince dipped his fingertips in the remaining wine and drew a crooked ∞ symbol on the table, "It's not those ingenious inventions, it's that you can make the conservatives slap themselves in the face - Old Zheng now praises Arabic numerals for anti-counterfeiting to everyone he meets, and Uncle Liu's dyeing workshop account books have all been replaced with new accounting methods..."

Chen Han smiled and took out a handkerchief. On the indigo cloth was embroidered "3.14" in gold thread. It was the latest "Pi" commemorative handkerchief produced by the Women's Workshop.

"Because real change is like this jar of wine." He shook the empty jar, and the remaining wine at the bottom of the jar made a pleasant sound. "It's not forced down people's throats, but after people have tasted the sweetness, they rush to drink it themselves."

As the moonlight was setting, two drunken figures supported each other and walked out of the Shangshenjian.

Zhu Biao's python-patterned boots left an "8"-shaped water mark on the stone steps, and the hem of Chen Han's official robe was covered with peanut shell fragments.

The guards on duty lowered their heads and tried to suppress their laughter.

They had never seen His Royal Highness the Crown Prince use abacus beads as a sobering stone, nor had they seen Duke Qian fold the Ministry of Revenue's account books into paper airplanes and throw them into the Imperial River.

"Tomorrow morning court..." Zhu Biao burped and suddenly shook out a volume of "Voucher Circulation Regulations" from his sleeve. "If Zheng Qingzhuo keeps nagging, I'll ask him to write his reprimand in Arabic numerals!"

Chen Han laughed and took out a charcoal pencil, then drew a function curve on the palace wall in one go.

Under the moonlight, the undulating lines looked like countless connected "7s", jumping towards the lights of thousands of homes in the distance.

There, under the countless oil lamps, perhaps someone was checking the voucher accounts with newly learned numbers, just like the pot of sobering soup in the imperial kitchen that was always kept warm, bubbling with bubbles of change.

……

The afterglow of the setting sun slanted down on the bluestone slabs in front of the Chen residence, stretching the swaying figure out of length.

Chen Han was holding the jar of wine in the air, and when the tip of his boot kicked the door threshold, he stumbled, startling the sparrows under the eaves and causing them to flutter into flight.

"The Duke is back!" The doorman, Old Zhao, was about to step forward to support him, but was forced to take a step back by the strong smell of alcohol.

There were hurried footsteps in the inner courtyard. Zhu Youwei lifted her skirt and turned around the screen wall. Her apricot-colored shirt was slightly puffed up by the evening breeze. She frowned and looked at her husband who was leaning against the door frame. There were a few mud marks on his flushed face, and the hem of his official robe looked like it had just rolled through a vegetable field.

"You said you—" She reached out to take the wine jar, her fingertips touching the back of Chen Han's hot hand, "Why are you so drunk? Didn't you go to the palace to discuss matters?"

Chen Han suddenly grinned, and the sweet aroma of alcohol mixed with Jinhua wine sprayed on Zhu Youwei's nose. "Madam, guess...who did your husband drink with?"

He deliberately dragged out his voice and leaned his body to lean on his wife's shoulder.

Zhu Youwei dodged sideways, and the magnolia hairpin in her hair brushed against Chen Han's earlobe. "It must be Chang Sheng and the others who are instigating you to go to Nanshi for a feast again!"

She twisted her husband's ear, but felt only half a piece of dried mud.

"Ouch..." Chen Han sat down on the ground, and the wine jar rolled to Zhu Youwei's feet. "I am wronged! This time I am here to drink with... with our father!"

"Our father?" Zhu Youwei loosened her grip and suddenly widened her eyes. "You're not saying..."

Chen Han suddenly burst into laughter, startling the koi in the pond so much that they swung their tails and hid in the water grass.

He patted the mud marks on his knees, like a child who just got a new toy. "My father and I went to see the old man, and the old man is really a god! He just said two sentences-" He raised two fingers and shook them, "It's more thorough than the accounts of the Ministry of Revenue that the people calculated in half a year!"

The evening breeze swept through the courtyard, bringing with it a rustling sound of bamboo leaves.

Zhu Youwei bent down to pick up the wine jar and found a few chive leaves stuck to the bottom of the jar. She suddenly smelled the familiar ambergris on her husband's clothes, which was the incense that Crown Prince Zhu Biao usually used.

"You... went to the imperial vegetable garden?" She squatted down and wiped the sweat from Chen Han's forehead with a handkerchief.

"More than that!" Chen Han suddenly grabbed his wife's wrist, and when he stood up, they staggered a few steps, and their backs hit the pillars. "The old man swung the hoe, just like that--"

He imitated Zhu Yuanzhang's hoeing motion, sweeping down a sweet-scented osmanthus tree with his sleeves, "scratching it into the vegetable patch, and saying, 'Governing a great country is like growing vegetables!'"

……

(End of this chapter)