Chapter Six: Surprises in the Courtyard

The weather was clear, a gentle breeze blowing, and on this not-so-broad road in the commoners’ district, two handsome, fair-skinned youths walked side by side, chatting and laughing, followed closely by another pair—a boy and a girl, both equally attractive. The four of them formed a moving tableau, drawing the attention of passersby on this humble street.

Yang Yaozong noticed that Yin Ruxin’s demeanor earlier suggested she believed he ought to know her, so he shrugged and teased, “I only arrived in the capital not long ago, and I was ill. I just recovered a few days ago, but I’ve forgotten some things. I hope Miss Yin will forgive me.”

Yin Ruxin heard Yang Yaozong address her formally, saw his clear gaze devoid of any flirtatious intent, unlike other men who would flatter and fawn upon her, their hearts full of lewdness and filth. She couldn’t help but give him a reproachful glance. “I dare not call myself a lady before you, sir,” she replied.

Both detected the playful undertone in each other’s words, and smiled knowingly, a tacit understanding between them.

As they continued their casual conversation, they soon arrived at a thatched cottage, its entrance shaded by drooping willow branches and encircled by a simple fence. Bruno was bent over, tending to the flowers and plants in his small garden.

Yang Yaozong stood at the gate and called out Bruno’s name loudly.

Yin Ruxin observed Yang Yaozong calling Bruno at the door, paying no heed to the image of a gentleman. Yet Yang Yaozong seemed utterly unconcerned. She thought, “He truly isn’t bound by conventions.”

Hearing his name, Bruno straightened and looked outside, spotting Yang Yaozong smiling at the gate. He hurried over, wiping his muddy hands on his clothes.

Though Bruno knew Yang Yaozong was coming, he hadn’t expected him so early. Excited, he reached out and grasped Yang Yaozong’s hands tightly, speaking in awkward and halting Zhou language, “Sir Yang, welcome to my humble abode. I have awaited your esteemed arrival for some time.”

Standing beside Yang Yaozong, Yin Ruxin watched Bruno wipe his hands and then grasp Yang Yaozong’s hands, amused by his clumsy Zhou speech. She covered her smiling face with a fan and glanced at Yang Yaozong. Seeing Yang Yaozong unfazed by Bruno’s handshake, he introduced her, “This is Miss Yin, my dear friend. She also cherishes and loves flowers. Upon hearing about you from me, she came along today.”

Bruno looked at Yin Ruxin, thinking to himself, “This Miss Yin is truly striking—more so than Yang himself.” He let go of Yang Yaozong’s hands and reached for Yin Ruxin’s.

Startled, Yin Ruxin frowned and retreated behind Yang Yaozong. Bruno, embarrassed by her avoidance, withdrew his hands and looked at Yang Yaozong with a sheepish smile.

Yang Yaozong glanced at Yin Ruxin, her cheeks flushed as she hid behind him, then turned to the awkward Bruno and laughed, “My friend here has a peculiar quirk, dislikes physical contact. Also, your nation’s customs aren’t suitable here, quite taboo in Zhou. Best not to do this again. When in Rome, as they say—since you’re in Zhou, it’s more appropriate to greet guests by our customs.”

Bruno bowed deeply and apologized to Yin Ruxin, “I’m terribly sorry. Sir Yang is right—I beg your forgiveness, Miss Yin. I was... um...” He wracked his brain for Zhou etiquette phrases. “Impetuous.” After saying “impetuous,” he seemed relieved, wiping nervous sweat from his brow with his sleeve.

Yin Ruxin, cheeks flushed, nodded her response, casting Yang Yaozong a grateful yet slightly reproachful glance. She thought, “He’s so blunt—peculiar quirk, physical contact. He says it without a hint of embarrassment, utterly righteous.”

Though Yin Ruxin was dressed as a man, Bruno was unaware. Nevertheless, his behavior struck her as improper. Only when Yang Yaozong explained it was a foreign custom did she realize her reaction might have been awkward. Even knowing Bruno’s foreign etiquette, having been raised in the Confucian culture of Zhou, she would still have hidden behind Yang Yaozong, caring little if it embarrassed Bruno.

Seeing Bruno’s sincere and somewhat nervous manner, Yang Yaozong patted his shoulder, laughing in reassurance, “I’m not scolding you, just giving you a reminder. Well, Bruno, let’s not stand at your door. May we come in to see your cultivated plants? We can discuss matters inside.”

Bruno, realizing the issue, smiled and bowed, inviting the four into his small courtyard.

The garden was modest, with a single narrow path connecting the gate to the cottage. Either side of the path was lined with thriving green plants.

Bruno led the way, purposely lowering his stature, smiling as he guided them. He was a head taller than Yang Yaozong, his tousled golden hair making him resemble a monkey.

Yang Yaozong, observing Bruno, mused, “In my previous era and the modern age, foreigners were always arrogant. Look at Bruno now, so humble—it’s oddly satisfying.” He unconsciously straightened his posture. “No matter how tall you are, you still have to look up to me,” he thought, somewhat smugly.

Midway along the path, Yang Yaozong paused, examining the plants.

Yin Ruxin, following closely and curious, was also scrutinizing the greenery. Tall herself, she nearly reached Yang Yaozong’s forehead. His sudden stop caused her to bump her brow against the back of his head.

Feeling the impact, Yang Yaozong realized his abrupt halt had caused Yin Ruxin to bump into him. He turned to apologize.

Yin Ruxin, embarrassed at the collision, raised her head and stepped back slightly.

Yet Yang Yaozong was already turning to look at her.

Both reacted at the same time, but Yang Yaozong was a bit quicker.

He turned sideways, his nose brushing gently across Yin Ruxin’s forehead as she lifted her head. The warmth of his breath caressed her already flushed face.

Yin Ruxin, now with her head raised and stepping back, felt Yang Yaozong’s nose graze her forehead and his breath on her cheeks. Seeing him facing her, rubbing his nose with his finger, his face faintly red and seemingly embarrassed, she quickly turned away, no longer meeting his gaze. Her face burned, her heart pounding wildly.

Yang Yaozong watched her and smiled quietly, thinking, “Compared to my previous life, women of this era truly abide by propriety. Even this outgoing and lively Yin Ruxin is now nothing like earlier—her manner no longer bold and witty.”

As he rubbed his nose, the delicate fragrance lingering there enchanted him. Though he’d noticed Yin Ruxin’s subtle feminine scent twice before, it hadn’t registered as special—much like women in later ages wore perfume, and few would mind the aroma. It was simply expected.

But this time, the gentle fragrance was persistent and refined, enveloping his senses, filling his mind and heart, stirring something within him. He unconsciously rubbed his nose to mask his slight nervousness, a faint blush rising on his fair face.

He saw Yin Ruxin’s face turned aside, her cheeks crimson, even her neck tinged pink. Her delicate earlobes glowed like rosy jewels, translucent and shy—she was the picture of a bashful maiden, nothing like the clever, worldly courtesan or the witty conversationalist she typically was.

Not far behind Yin Ruxin were Xiaohua and her maid, Ruyi. Ruyi was also dressed as a boy, walking last, chatting quietly with Xiaohua as they tried to guess what plants grew in the garden. Both focused on the greenery, unaware of the exchange between Yang Yaozong and Yin Ruxin. Seeing the group stop, they also halted.

At the front, Bruno noticed Yang Yaozong had paused and turned, seemingly speaking to the person behind him. He waited, then called, “Sir Yang.”

Bruno’s voice broke the slightly ambiguous and tender atmosphere between Yang Yaozong and Yin Ruxin.

Yang Yaozong, still rubbing his nose, turned his head straight, coughed lightly, and composed himself.

Yin Ruxin bit her lip, fanned herself casually, as if hoping to dispel the blush and heat from her face.

After a moment, Yang Yaozong pointed to a plant before him and asked Bruno in French, “Bruno, is this sweet potato?” Then he gestured to some other plants, “Potato?” Without waiting for an answer, he pointed to several plants at the center of the garden, drooping with round green fruit tinged pink beneath the leaves, and exclaimed, “Tomato!” Then to the young, pointed green peppers, “Chili!” There were also a few at the edge of the yard, with long green stalks and broad leaves, a small round disk atop the stem, “Sunflower!” Yang Yaozong’s excitement was unmistakable.

In his previous life, Yang Yaozong had grown up in the countryside, helping his parents with farm work from a young age. Recognizing and understanding plants came naturally to him.

Yin Ruxin, hearing Yang Yaozong and Bruno converse in a foreign tongue, frowned slightly and looked at the plants he indicated. Of those, only one seemed vaguely familiar—perhaps the chili Yang Yaozong had mentioned the night before. The rest she did not recognize.

But seeing Yang Yaozong’s exuberance, she thought he clearly knew them, and mused, “Just moments ago he was shy, now he’s like a child, so lively.” Her earlier anxious confusion faded with his delight.

Bruno was amazed at Yang Yaozong’s accurate identification, admiring him even more. Though sweet potatoes and potatoes were widely cultivated in his homeland, tomatoes, chili, and sunflowers were only being grown experimentally. He’d spent over a year researching cultivation in Zhou and had yet to meet anyone who recognized these plants.

Yang Yaozong realized he was getting carried away, coughed to steady himself, though his eyes still shone with joy. His excitement centered mainly on sweet potatoes and potatoes. As for chili, tomatoes, and sunflowers, even if they weren’t adopted on a large scale, he could grow them for his own enjoyment.

From what he’d read in historical records and observed in daily life, Zhou did not yet have sweet potatoes or potatoes. Yields of rice, millet, and wheat were not high, and famine recurred every few years. Sweet potatoes and potatoes not only yielded more but were easy to cultivate and could serve as staple foods. Large-scale planting would surely alleviate famine.

He knew that introducing new crops and convincing people to adopt them would be a tremendous challenge, especially in this era, so isolated and backward compared to later times. The task ahead was daunting.

Though a son-in-law, Yang Yaozong understood the duty of a citizen for the nation’s well-being. From the information he’d gathered, the emperor of Zhou was in his sixties, with only a single grandson as heir, himself still young. Yang Yaozong wasn’t at court but knew that many coveted the throne. The lack of heirs was the greatest internal threat. Externally, northern nomads ravaged the borders, and coastal raiders and pirates caused trouble.

These nomads included the Western Turks of Xinjiang, the Eastern Mongols, Mongol tribes, and the Tungus outside the passes. Among them, the Eastern Mongols were the fiercest, constantly harassing Zhou’s frontiers and launching large-scale attacks every few years. This time, the sudden mobilization of their armies had prompted Yang Yaozong’s father-in-law, Nangong Zhan, and his wife, Nangong Qingyi, to lead troops to the border in haste.

Yang Yaozong wanted only a peaceful life, to cherish those around him, but if the country fell and chaos reigned, how could he find peace? Even for the sake of his unseen wife and in-laws, he had to do something. As for promoting these crops, he would inform Nangong Qingyi and let her handle it. He was quite content to be the man behind a strong woman.