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墨書 Inktalez
"I'm afraid of the cold!" Lin Dahe scooped a ladle of cool water from the vat. "Niter dissolves in water and absorbs heat; with the coolness on her forehead, Madam will naturally feel her fever subside." He magically produced a small paper bag. "Moreover, I've added something real—"
Cui Xiaoman snatched the paper bag and sniffed it, her pupils suddenly constricting. "Quinine? Where did you get this?"
"From Peddler Zhang in Quanzhou," Lin Dahe whispered. "Just a small amount; I've put it all in the medicine for Madam."
The two of them leaned over the mortar, making the remaining niter even greener. Cui Xiaoman's technique became increasingly skilled as she mixed a small amount of copper powder into the wormwood juice, giving the crystals a metallic sheen. Lin Dahe was responsible for packaging—placing three "pills" into each coarse cloth bag and adding an enigmatic incantation for consumption.
"If it doesn't work by tomorrow..." Cui Xiaoman's copper hairpin hovered over the niter pile.
Lin Dahe suddenly grabbed her wrist. "Your father taught you how to take pulses, right?"
The next morning, the sound of Spring Peach's silver bells arrived even before the sun. The maid's cheeks were flushed as she carried a basket containing two envelopes of silver: "Madam's fever has broken! The master says to invite Lin Xiangong to the flower hall!"
The wisteria in the courtyard of the county office was in full bloom. Lin Dahe knelt on the bluestone slab, listening as the county magistrate extolled his "Qing Shuang San." This official, nearing fifty, had dark circles under his eyes and unconsciously rubbed his right pinky finger while speaking—where a finger should have been.
"This medicine..." The magistrate suddenly lowered his voice. "Is it possible to mass-produce?"
Lin Dahe's back tensed. He should have anticipated that in this malaria-prone southern county, this "miracle drug" could fetch a fortune. Just as he pondered how to respond, a light cough came from behind the screen—it was Counselor, signaling him.
"Your Excellency, it requires specific seasonal wormwood," Lin Dahe fabricated casually. "The leaves before frost and stems after white dew..."
The magistrate waved his hand in disappointment but suddenly remembered something: "How did you achieve that green color? It looks like..."
"Glazed ceramic." Counselor interjected suddenly. "Your Excellency forgot? Last month, the Governor of Guangdong wrote that foreign glassmakers use herbs to dye colors."
Lin Dahe's heart raced. This was clearly a test of his connection to glassmaking! Just as he was about to deny it, the magistrate leaned closer: "I've heard you can fire Western Region star-patterned pottery?"
"A rudimentary skill," Lin Dahe replied, cold sweat pouring down his back. "It's just using shells..."
"The court's new decree." Counselor pulled out a scroll from his sleeve. "Any skills related to foreign goods must be registered." He looked meaningfully at Lin Dahe's hands. "Especially those capable of firing glass."
On the ox cart returning to the village, Lin Dahe mulled over Counselor's words. The court's sudden crackdown on maritime trade techniques indicated that coastal restrictions were tightening. But what was more concerning was the magistrate's severed finger—just like those he had seen before on other officials; all had their right pinky cut off at the root.
"What are you thinking about?" Cui Xiaoman nudged him with her elbow. "You're sweating over silver."
Lin Dahe then realized he was still gripping that five taels of reward money tightly in his palm. Just as he was about to say that the niter crisis had temporarily been averted, a red alert suddenly popped up on his system screen: 【⚠️Detected craft piracy! Imitations of star-patterned pottery have appeared in the county market!】
Peddler Zhang's worn straw sandals appeared just in time at the edge of the cart track. The old man ran over breathlessly, clutching a cloth bag. "Quick, take a look at this!"
Unfolding the cloth bag revealed a crude ceramic bowl. The "star pattern" on the bottom wasn't made from glass shards but rather glaze mixed with mica powder, reflecting light dully under the sun. Even more bizarre was the wavy pattern along the rim—crooked and twisted, resembling a clumsy imitation of Cui Xiaoman's secret notes.
"It was just set up this morning at Zhou's shop," Peddler Zhang wiped his sweat away. "They're only asking for one-third of what you would charge!"
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