"This Chen Shou…"
Zhang Fei finally conceded, equal parts impressed and annoyed. "He really knows how to curse people without using a single dirty word."
And, embarrassingly, he felt a little tempted.
No wonder Second Brother kept telling him to read more books—there really was a gap in their levels.
"So Sun Quan leaves his name behind as a Grand Commander," Zhang Song muttered in confusion, "but Cao Pi leaves his legacy… by eating? And somehow that's considered more impressive than literary talent?"
What in the world could possibly rank higher than mastery of civil and military arts?
"You don't understand, Ziqiao," Liu Bei said, his voice tinged with envy.
"Take that 'university' from later ages mentioned just now. In those times, they possess scientific knowledge—methods that harness water power, multiply harvests, clarify the nature of all things, and reveal the laws of Heaven itself."
Liu Bei paused, wanting to describe the breathtaking sights of the future—but finding it all too complicated.
So he summed it up with a single sentence:
"They surpass even the methods of immortals."
Zhang Song still looked lost. But when he turned, he saw Zhuge Liang and Pang Tong on the other side, both staring at the light-screen with solemn intensity, unwilling to miss a single word.
[Light-Screen]
[ Cao Pi, the literary youth, left behind a large body of prose and rhapsodies, making historical verification relatively easy.
For example, in his "Rhapsody on Observing Things," he wrote about sugarcane planted in the courtyard—how it flourishes in high summer yet withers in the chill of autumn. Humans, he mused, are much the same.
Beautiful writing, really. But let's be honest: sugarcane is a tropical crop. It didn't "wither philosophically"—it froze to death. Try planting it in the south and it'll grow nonstop for years.
In "Discourses," Cao Pi even bragged about his swordsmanship. One day, while drinking with his ministers and gnawing on sugarcane, inspiration struck. He challenged them to a sword contest—using sugarcane as blades.
He defeated Deng Zhan—famous for being able to snatch swords barehanded—three rounds to zero.
Thus, later generations kindly awarded Cao Pi the elegant nickname:Thus, later generations kindly awarded Cao Pi the elegant nickname:
"The Sugarcane Sword Saint."
The "stone honey" Cao Pi gifted to Sun Quan also came from sugarcane—primitive raw sugar formed by boiling and sun-drying the juice.
Sugar refined from sugarcane would later become the very doorstep of the industrial age. Cao Pi may well have been the earliest emperor in history to touch that threshold.
Unfortunately, he only studied literature—never sugar refinement.
What use is sugar? Simple examples:
During the Tang dynasty, the famed physician Sun Simiao included sugar as a primary ingredient in two prescriptions in his "Essential Prescriptions Worth a Thousand Gold."
In the late Tang, merchants traveling to Tibet carried coarse sugar blocks known as "bowl sugar" to relieve altitude sickness.
To his credit, Emperor Taizong did try. When Indian sugar techniques entered China during the Northern and Southern Dynasties, he dispatched envoys to learn them. Sadly, the Indians—being rather clever—cheated him.
It wasn't until Wang Xuance single-handedly destroyed a foreign kingdom and brought sugar artisans back as captives that Tang sugar production truly advanced.
A century later, when Jianzhen crossed east, sugar-making techniques were among the knowledge he brought—allowing Japan to reap the benefits.
Tang sugar was mostly brown sugar. By the Ming dynasty, decolorization techniques produced white sugar.
The "Tiangong Kaiwu" later summarized sugar production methods—though its decolorization section contains some inaccuracies.]
"Tiangong Kaiwu!"
Zhuge Liang suppressed his excitement, hastily telling Pang Tong, "I'll take the left, you take the right," before burying his head in transcription.
At the section on decolorization, the light-screen even displayed diagrams.
On the left, "Yellow Clay Filtering Method" was crossed out.
On the right, a different diagram appeared, labeled "Sealed Clay Method."
Zhuge Liang copied everything down. His mind was utterly calm—like an emotionless transcription machine.
[Light-Screen]
[ A craving for sugar is written into the genes of all living beings.
Trace modern history backward, and you'll find the Industrial Revolution. Trace that further back, and you reach the slave trade. And the origin of the slave trade is absurdly simple: sugar.
The Wei emperor who once wielded sugarcane as a sword could never have imagined that this same thing—used to show off swordplay—would one day reshape the course of human history.]
"Reshape the course of history…"
Liu Bei's voice trembled.
Those few words felt like a mountain collapsing straight toward his face.
In a daze, he almost saw a beautiful figure holding a stalk of sugarcane—crushed into dust beneath that mountain.
He swept his gaze across the hall, finally settling on the three men from Yi Province.
"Ziqiao—do you know sugarcane?"
Zhang Song reviewed his notes and nodded.
"The southern regions grow it in abundance. Its juice is sweet; boil it down, dry it, and you get stone honey. Cao Pi's melancholy here is rather…"
He chuckled.
Yi Province was no stranger to sugarcane. Plant it once, and it shoots up year after year. How could it possibly 'die in autumn'?
"Stone honey sells well in Yong and Liang," Mi Zhu added.
"Even Liaodong seeks it. In winter, locals carry it when traveling—said to stave off hunger and bolster courage."
Merchant instincts kicked in immediately.
"Stone honey aside—if we can produce the red and white sugar shown on the light-screen, it could sell across the realm. It'd rival Shu brocade!"
Mi Zhu's eyes shone. Follow the light-screen, and business would be effortless.
New things—things no one could resist.
"This must be tried," Liu Ba said sharply.
"If its sweetness surpasses stone honey tenfold, profits may rise a hundredfold!"
Zhuge Liang and Pang Tong finally finished copying. After reviewing it twice, Zhuge Liang fell silent.
His gaze passed over yield per mu, diverse sugar types, medicinal uses, emergency rations—before stopping at two words:
Slave trade.
"This," he said slowly, "is enough to secure Shu-Han's prosperity for a century."
"But it could also bring a century of chaos to foreign lands."
Pang Tong nodded faintly. Zhuge Liang was seeing farther than he could.
Zhang Fei, utterly lost, turned to Zhao Yun.
"Zilong—what kind of man do you think this Wang Xuance was?"
Zhao Yun paused.
"Perhaps one who drove tigers to devour wolves. But regardless—those four words alone summarize the martial might of the High Tang."
Elsewhere—
"We should summon Sun Simiao to treat His Majesty's headaches and rheumatism," Zhangsun Wuji said at once.
Fang Xuanling agreed. "With the light-screen's endorsement, we should all value our health."
"In the Sui, Sun Simiao refused court summons," Du Ruhui said. "Perhaps relocating his clan to Chang'an and granting land—"
"No need," Du Ruhui shook his head. "Invite him to view the light-screen in Ganlu Hall."
Hou Junji clapped his hands.
"Brilliant! I've heard the Medicine King cares only for healing, not office."
"With future medicine revealed here, he won't refuse!"
All eyes turned to Li Shimin.
After a moment's thought, the Tang emperor nodded.
"So be it. Draft the edict."
For the first time, Li Shimin resolved to take better care of himself—he still had many reckless neighboring states to deal with.
Yuchi Jingde stared only at one name.
"Wang Xuance," he said simply. "Hero!"
Li Shimin felt the same pride. A Tang subject—such glory would echo through history.
"Have Dai Zhou look into him. Perhaps he's already one of our officials."
Then his face darkened.
"This sugar-making method—Jianzhen just handed it to the Wa people?"
Eastward crossing. "Little Japan." The implication was obvious.
"A Buddhist monk, then," Du Ruhui said.
"He likely sought goodwill to spread the Dharma."
Li Shimin snorted, displeased.
Too much Buddhism lately.
Still, what mattered now was sugar's military value.
"Issue the sugar decree."
The Tang emperor had decided.
[Light-Screen]
[ Outside of cosplaying a Sword Saint, Cao Pi also moonlighted as a live-streaming influencer for northern produce.
Imperial dates of Anyi. Imperial pears of Zhen Ding. Xincheng rice—each personally endorsed.
And he absolutely trashed the south:
"Longan and lychee? Tasteless garbage. Jiangdong oranges? So sour my teeth cracked—also garbage. Changsha rice? Overrated. Nothing beats my Xincheng rice!"
So what was Cao Pi's ideal fruit? Grapes.
Sweet without being cloying. Crisp without sourness. Cool without chilling. Long-lasting flavor, abundant juice.
He even wrote a usage guide: after a night of heavy drinking in late summer, morning grapes still covered in dew will clear the mind and quench thirst.
Tang Xuanzong, however, would probably pity him.
"You call yourself a gourmet and don't know lychee changes color in one day, fragrance in two, flavor in three?"
The lychee Cao Pi ate in the north was probably rotten—or salted.
In the afterlife, Cao Pi surely protests: "I lived in Luoyang—you did too! You had the Lychee Road, didn't you? Then shut up."
Who decides between grapes and lychee? Yang Yuhuan.
As a child in Shu, she ate lychees freely. At sixteen, she married. At eighteen, she entered the palace.
She missed lychees.
Xuanzong waved his hand.
Twenty li per relay station. One thousand seven hundred stations. Nearly twenty thousand couriers.
Thus the Lychee Road was born.
Three days to Chang'an.
Yang Yuhuan smiled. Xuanzong was pleased. Couriers earned favor.
Everyone had a bright future.
Except Du Fu, who wrote:
"Galloping horses bear lychees—
A hundred die in the mountains."
And Du Mu:
"One rider, red dust rising—
The concubine smiles.
None know it is lychee."*]