The Great Song Dynasty's Soul-Forging in Progress

I hope Chen Shimei is just a heartless character in a drama, and I hope this Di Qing is not the real "Di Qing" or "Di Wuxiang" I know from history.

Wang Zhonghua, a fan of time-travel fantasy novels, seemed to hear the slanderous mockery of the court officials against Di Qing echoing in his ears:

"Di Qing's dog has horns on its head, and strange lights emanate from his house at night. This man must have 'rebellious intentions'."

"Those who announce their names as top scholars outside Donghua Gate are considered good sons, but how can this person be considered a good son?"

Hmph! Only those who pass the imperial examination and become the top scholar are true men. What are you, Di Qing, and your brute troops?

These words were nothing short of a slap in the face to Di Qing. He was not only completely illiterate, but also a "traitorous convict" with tattoos on his face. Despite his many battles and great contributions to the court, all of this was no match for his vast knowledge of literature in the eyes of the powerful intellectuals.

Wait a minute, that's not right. I remember Di Qing being demoted to Chenzhou in the third year of the Zhihe era, but it's clearly the fifth year of the Huangyou era now. Has history gone awry, or has my own appearance changed history?

Would Di Qing still be sent by the court to "inquire about" his condition by eunuchs every half month, leading to his premature death in Chenzhou due to depression?

Wang Zhonghua became somewhat confused.

Chen Shimei's hypocrisy, Qiu Laohu's hidden danger, and now a war god who has lost power but still retains his prestige... This small Longsheng Ferry, this bowl of freshly boiled spicy soup, seems to be unknowingly stirring up the prelude to the changing winds and clouds of Chenzhou, and even the entire Song Dynasty.

Business remained booming, and the aroma of the spicy soup was still irresistible. But Wang Zhonghua knew that the road ahead was no longer just a simple path of commerce. The waters of Longsheng Ferry were deeper and more murky than the bottomless Laomentan Pool.

Wang Zhonghua clenched his fist, his lips slightly pursed, his eyes growing increasingly resolute and bright. No matter what lay ahead, he had to keep going, and he had to forge a path to the heavens! Di Qing's appearance was like a pebble thrown into a lake, creating new ripples in his heart. Perhaps, for the sake of those he cared about, he would have to venture into Chenzhou City sooner or later.

Days passed by amidst the cries of "Hot soup, hot!" The aroma of hot soup, like the quietly changing fortunes of Wang Zhonghua and even the Wang family, took root on Longsheng Street. Hot soup became a bestseller, and the Wang family earned several taels of silver a day, gradually becoming wealthy.

Although he was no longer a tenant farmer, Wang Zhuacai, with his dark complexion and no beard, was still as busy as ever, and Yao Shi, with her gray hair, was still as diligent as ever. Only Xiao Xiangjun's face became fuller and her hair became shinier.

The signboard of "Wang's Spicy Soup" fluttered in the wind, and in just over a month, it had become the most famous signboard in the ferry area. Every day before dawn, long queues would form in front of the shop. Boatmen, porters, traveling merchants, and even some villagers with slightly better means were willing to spend a few coins to drink a bowl of piping hot and spicy soup, accompanied by crispy sesame flatbread or the newly developed pan-fried buns, to start their day's work.

Wang Zhuacai, collecting money and settling accounts, gradually regained his rosy complexion and straightened his back a bit. Yao Shi and Wang Xiangjun were in charge of the kitchen and miscellaneous tasks; although busy, the worry between their brows was replaced by a fulfilling exhaustion. Qin Tiehua had become an indispensable helper in the shop; she was quick-witted and better at accounting and greeting customers than Wang Zhuacai, and her tacit understanding with Wang Zhonghua was also growing stronger day by day. Qin Tiedan, on the other hand, had become the shop's "protector"; his muscular body, honed from blacksmithing, was so imposing that even hooligans dared not approach him.

With Lü Sanjun's reputation and the instructions given by the Prefect on the opening day, even scoundrels like Qiu Laohu dared not easily provoke Wang Zhonghua.

Wang Zhonghua was not satisfied with this. He carefully saved the copper coins and silver he earned, using some of it to improve his household, buy new bedding, and make a new set of coarse cloth clothes for everyone. He used the rest as capital to think about increasing the variety of dishes and even began to draw more detailed designs for stoves and ironware.

Life seemed to be going uphill. One day, Madam Yao called Wang Zhonghua to her side, her face showing a rare moment of relief: "Zhonghua, I know you weren't always this clever. Can you tell me why you've changed so much?"

coming!

I knew this day would come! Mothers are the most observant; any changes that happen to me won't escape their notice!

Fortunately, Wang Zhonghua was prepared: "That day, when I fell into the Old Gate Pool, I seemed to be touched on the forehead by an old Taoist priest with a white beard, and suddenly a lot of things appeared in my mind."

Madam Yao clasped her hands in devout prayer: "Amitabha, it must be the Bodhisattva's blessing, or the Dragon King of Laomentan who enlightened you. Our family's current situation is all thanks to the Bodhisattva's protection. I'm thinking of taking Xiangjun and Tiehua to Shousheng Temple tomorrow to offer incense, fulfill our vows, and pray to Buddha to bless you and your siblings with peace and prosperity."

Wang Zhonghua's heart stirred. Shousheng Temple was a famous ancient temple in Chenzhou, with flourishing incense offerings. The abbot, Master Huiming, was a legendary enlightened monk, and the temple's warrior monks were quite strong. He was worried about where to find a way to strengthen his body and cope with future risks, and this trip might offer an opportunity.

He immediately nodded: "Mother is right, we should go and thank the Bodhisattva. Let Brother Tiedan accompany you, so they can look after each other on the way. I'll be there shortly after I finish tidying up the shop."

The next morning, Yao changed into her half-new blue cotton dress, while Wang Xiangjun wore the pink cotton clothes her brother had just bought for her. Her originally messy yellow hair had mostly turned into shiny black hair, and her little face was radiant. She hopped and skipped like a happy little sparrow.

Qin Tiehua also made a point of dressing neatly and cleanly, with an unidentified wildflower tucked into her hair, adding to her charming appearance. Qin Tiedan put on a clean short jacket and, protecting the three women, headed towards Shousheng Temple on Ziyun Mountain in the west of the city.

Shousheng Temple is nestled at the foot of Ziyun Mountain, beside the Xiaoyaojin Ferry of Daying River. Its magnificent halls and ancient trees reach for the sky, and its nine-story pagoda is renowned far and wide. Even before reaching the temple gate, the melodious sounds of bells and chimes fill the air, and the aroma of incense wafts through the air. Today is not the peak incense-burning season of the first and fifteenth of the lunar month, yet pilgrims still flock to the temple in droves.

With her two daughters, Madam Yao devoutly burned incense and knelt before each Buddha statue, whispering prayers. Before the majestic golden statue of Shakyamuni in the main hall, Madam Yao prostrated herself, unwilling to rise for a long time, silently praying: "May Buddha bless my son, Zhonghua, with peace, health, and freedom from disaster… bless my daughter, Xiangjun, with a smooth life… This faithful woman, Madam Yao, vows to be a vegetarian for the rest of my life, in exchange for the health and well-being of my children…"

Wang Xiangjun imitated her mother, kowtowing repeatedly while muttering, "Buddha, please bless my brother's shop so it may always prosper, may my parents stop sighing, and may my iron painting sister... um, always be so beautiful!"

Qin Tiehua knelt on the prayer mat, her hands clasped together, her eyes lowered. In the wisps of incense smoke, her striking features appeared exceptionally gentle. She glanced furtively at the empty prayer mat beside her (reserved for Wang Zhonghua), her heart pounding. A bold yet shy wish quietly surfaced: "Buddha above, your humble servant Qin Tiehua asks for nothing more than... only that I may always be by Zhonghua's side, sharing his burdens, and... marrying him, so that this life may not be in vain."

After making her wish, two blushes rose on her cheeks, and she quickly bowed deeply to hide the excitement in her heart.

Qin Tiedan had little interest in worshipping Buddha. He stood outside the hall with his arms crossed, warily observing the passersby, like a dutiful door god.

Just as the Yao family was about to go to the side hall to donate some incense money, a loud and unrestrained commotion arose outside the mountain gate. Seven or eight men with bare chests and exposed backs, surrounding a burly man with a face full of scars and a tuft of black hair on his chest, swaggered in. It was none other than Qiu Laohu and his ruffians!

"Hey! The temple's bodhisattva has opened his eyes today, letting me run into someone I know!"