The Idle Man of Zhenguan Intercepts Wu Zetian at the Start

Changsun Dan smiled and went out: "Eat with confidence. This is a cow that died from a fall at the Duke of Lu's Zhenbei Camp. It has already been registered with the Wannian County Government."

Xu Daniu had already removed the cow's leg bone. The county magistrate needed to make bone glue, so he had to cut it into sections and then break it up, otherwise it would be too wasteful of firewood.

"This cow is probably only one or two years old, and the meat is so tender."

Changsun Dan thought to himself, "That's right. Old Cheng's ox never even had a chance to live to be three years old. There's still a lot of meat left after deboning this leg." He threw it all onto a wooden board, bent down, cut it in half, put the portion to be braised into a copper basin, poured in most of the freshly crushed brine, added a handful of coarse salt, and several spoonfuls of sugar.

"Qianning, you should simmer this slowly in the pot used for distilling wine."

Changsun Dan cut the remaining meat into small cubes, filling a whole bowl. He then sprinkled in the remaining medicinal powder, added salt, and mixed it well. He planned to sprinkle some fennel powder on top while grilling.

"The rest is up to you. Go and break off some willow branches, skewer six pieces of beef on each skewer, and then you can grill them."

Chun Chan and the others had eaten roasted meat sold by the Hu people, but none of it looked as good as the color of the mixed meat prepared by Xianzi. Although it hadn't been roasted yet, they could already smell the rich medicinal aroma.

Tie Zhu and Zhou You Niang were also called over, but Uncle Fu felt he was too old to participate. With more than a dozen people in the south courtyard, the atmosphere became lively and bustling. Changsun Dan had Tie Zhu light a large bonfire, and the girls skewered meat and tended the fire, their laughter and chatter filling the air.

Especially Da Niu and Tie Zhu, the thought of drinking and eating meat soon made them even more energetic. Tie Zhu pounded the beef tendons into thin slices and added them all to the big pot of stewing beef bones to simmer slowly.

Chun Chan, thinking that the invitation to the banquet hadn't been copied yet, urged, "Young master, they put together ten poems on the spot today. We can't just use them again tomorrow."

Changsun Dan smiled. The madness of these people was beyond his expectations; it was time to increase the difficulty.

"There's only one song today," I said, "you write it."

He looked at the roaring flames and the pile of charcoal used to grill the beef.

"The charcoal seller cuts firewood and burns charcoal in the southern mountains."

His face was covered in dust and soot, his temples were gray and his ten fingers were black.

What do you do with the money from selling charcoal? You buy clothes and food.

The poor man is dressed in only thin clothes, yet he worries that charcoal is cheap and wishes for colder weather.

A foot of snow fell outside the city last night; at dawn, I drove a charcoal cart, its wheels grinding through the icy ruts.

The oxen were exhausted, the men were hungry, and the sun was high in the sky. They rested in the mud outside the south gate of the city.

Who are those two riders coming so gracefully? A messenger in yellow robes and a young man in white.

Holding the document in his hand and proclaiming it an imperial edict, he turned the cart around, scolded the oxen, and led it north.

A cartload of charcoal, weighing over a thousand catties, was seized by the palace officials, who could not bear to part with it.

Half a bolt of red silk and a length of fine brocade, tied to the ox's head as payment for charcoal.

When Bai Juyi was born, the golden age of the Tang Dynasty had long since ended. After the great war, the lives of ordinary people became even more difficult. From the time Li Er (Emperor Taizong of Tang) came to power, there were rebellions in every generation of the Tang Dynasty, and the lives of ordinary people were even more miserable. This poem is a true reflection of all the poor people. Changsun Dan copied their works and felt much calmer because they spoke out for the people, never for fame. History simply remembers their kindness, and this great love will not be forgotten because of the loss of a poem.

Bai Juyi is still Bai Juyi.

Changsun Dan had something on his mind, and his expression was somewhat lonely. The firelight reflected on his slightly immature face, sometimes bright and sometimes dark. There was some swelling around his eyebrows and eyes, which made the atmosphere seem heavy and oppressive. As he read out these words, everyone stopped talking and laughing, and only the fire crackled.

Chun Chan's hands had been trembling all day. The young man was talented, but his feelings ran even deeper. His mind was filled with the sorrow of the entire world, and everything he did was to try to keep those around him away from this pain. Chun Chan's heart was filled with tender emotions. She bit her lower lip tightly, leaving a deep ring of teeth marks that she was still unaware of.

Dongyao stared blankly at Changsun Dan, her eyes already brimming with tears. She had been trying hard not to recall her childhood memories, but now, the young man had laid them bare before her in a bloody way. She just couldn't understand how a child who had grown up in a top-tier noble family could understand these things, how she could feel pain and cry out for them.

Qian Ning and the others were all war orphans. The hardships they experienced could not be erased by changes in life. They could empathize with the hardships, the oppression, the helplessness, and the struggles. They were suddenly grateful for Senior Sister Yao's desperate efforts that day. Xiao Xianzi's kindness was like a small flame that warmed their past that they did not want to look back on.

Xu Daniu stammered:

"Your Excellency... I'm afraid... I'm afraid the censors will impeach you for subtly criticizing the court..."

Changsun Dan smiled slightly:

"It's alright. If the world is at peace and the people live in contentment, His Majesty will not take it personally. The fact that the censors impeach him only shows that he agrees with this reality."

Changsun Dan was truly fearless. The law should protect the people, not be used to scheme against and persecute the vulnerable. If he were punished for this, Li Er would no longer be Li Er. This also serves as a reminder that if harsh and excessive labor were imposed, the people of the world would live like this—worse than death!

Seeing that the originally lively atmosphere had become heavy and oppressive because of his poem, Changsun Dan smiled and instructed:

"Tiezhu, go get the wine. Da Niu used to be a cook, so he'll be in charge of grilling the meat. Sprinkle the fennel powder and pepper on the skewers while grilling."

After saying that, he got up and went back to his room. He figured the bone glue was almost ready, and he still had a bow to make.

Chun Chan was copying the wine invitations, so she followed them into the room. Zhang Tao'er and Zhou You Niang were both busy people, and they were constantly boiling braised meat in the wine steamer. Changsun Dan was quite at ease with them doing things, since Qian Ning and the others had different areas of expertise.

The manor had carpenters and bamboo weavers working on the school, so they had plenty of materials for a bow. The recurve bow that Changsun Dan wanted to make was a three-piece bow. The handle was made of mulberry wood and had a groove carved into it to increase stability. The two ends were made of two old bamboo strips joined with mulberry wood. The middle end was thick and wide, while the two sides were much thinner and softer. This design was more labor-saving but had greater elasticity. The biggest difference between a recurve bow and a traditional one-piece bow is that the material needs to be bent twice in both positive and negative directions. The bow arm is bent upwards and the bowstring is tied to the upward-curving end, thereby increasing the stress.

Changsun Dan heated the bamboo strips on the charcoal stove. At this moment, Dongyao came in to help. Now that she knew the young man was making a bow, a bow that did not exist in the Tang Dynasty, she asked curiously:

"There are bows and arrows readily available in the military camp, why should the young master make them himself?"

Changsun Dan blushed: "That bow is too big and too heavy, I can't pull it. The small bow I made is easier to draw and has a longer range. I'll attach some ox horn pieces and ox sinew plaster later, and its power will be even greater, and it can maintain its tension for longer. It can penetrate iron armor at thirty or forty meters!"

Dongyao didn't understand what tension was, but since the young master had said so, it must be possible—if he could really make such a bow, His Majesty would definitely promote it throughout the army… As she learned to roast bamboo strips and ox horn slices from the young master, her delicate brows furrowed slightly:

She understands the principle that "the tallest tree in the forest will be felled by the wind." Perhaps this bow-making was a success, but who knows what he will make next!

Manufacturing weapons privately is a grave taboo in the imperial court! But he didn't want to say anything; if the other man wanted to do something, he would just accompany him!