CHAPTER 131: CHAPTER 129: SICK

Under the dim light, Xie Liangchen gazed at the pot of pig stomach soup.

She had already drunk half a bowl, and finally couldn’t help but look up at Song Xian, who was under the lamp reading documents.

Beside Song Xian was not just a few sheets of paper anymore, but a thick stack of documents.

Xie Liangchen wanted to speak, but Song Xian’s eyebrows were slightly furrowed, his gaze glued to the documents with intense focus.

Xie Liangchen sipped a few more mouthfuls of soup, then picked up her chopsticks to eat the finely sliced pig stomach, making up her mind: "Master, I don’t think it’s the medicinal food that’s the problem."

General Song, who would remain unfazed before thousands of troops, inexplicably felt a bit guilty. However, he slightly raised his long eyes, skillfully displaying an authoritative aura to mask his emotions, asking Xie Liangchen, "Then where is the problem?"

While speaking, Song Xian fixated on her eyes, as if, during a confrontation, using pressure to make the enemy bow their head, lest she says something he doesn’t like.

For the first time, Xie Liangchen found Song Xian’s gaze unfriendly, but she didn’t detect any danger. Instead, she felt Song Xian was slightly nervous, and thinking of Old Mrs. Song’s health, she understood.

Xie Liangchen said, "Right now, isn’t the National Guardian General and his wife in Zhenzhou?"

Song Xian replied, "Song Min is imprisoned in the Zhenzhou Prefecture’s jail, Mrs. Rong is staying here trying to manage things up and down, and Song Qizheng is comforting his subordinates and organizing the military camp."

Xie Liangchen nodded, "The trouble in the Song Family must be causing Old Mrs. Song inner turmoil. No matter how well the medicinal food is made, she might not have an appetite. This white atractylodes pig stomach soup indeed nourishes the stomach, but it’s not an elixir that works immediately."

Song Xian, having seen her struggle to finish even a small pot of beef soup, told the doctor and switched to stomach-nourishing pig stomach soup. However, seeing her only consume half a bowl after a long time, it seemed fruitless.

Song Xian said indifferently, "Since the medicinal food is useless, preparing so much each time is a waste of effort, isn’t it?"

Xie Liangchen held back a laugh; while Song Xian was skilled in both literature and martial arts, he was really clueless in other matters. She had spoken clearly, yet he misunderstood.

Xie Liangchen said, "It’s not that the medicinal food is useless, but that what Old Mrs. Song needs now isn’t pig stomach soup."

Song Xian set down the document in his hand, willing to listen further.

Xie Liangchen said, "If you could spend time dining with Old Mrs. Song, it would be much better."

As she spoke, Xie Liangchen realized that Song Xian, someone who couldn’t even ensure his own meals, would find it difficult to dine at home regularly.

Thinking this, Xie Liangchen continued, "Occasionally, taking some time out is enough."

Song Xian was silent for a moment, then agreed, indicating he had heard her.

The room quieted down, and Xie Liangchen picked up her chopsticks again.

Silently eating a few more bites, Xie Liangchen gazed at the large pot of soup, pondering how to get rid of this great burden...

"I heard you want to make a wind box?" Song Xian’s voice came.

Xie Liangchen looked up, "Currently, there are no airbags in Zhenzhou’s blacksmith shops. Without precise heat control while smelting iron, the ironware produced is not durable. Having a wind box would make smelting iron much easier."

Song Xian looked at the paper on the table, "Is it the one drawn here?"

Xie Liangchen nodded, "In my past life, I only saw a Daoist use it, so I have a rough idea. There are some things inside that need to be discussed."

Song Xian said again, "You say it’s similar to the Fierce Fire Oil Cabinet?"

The girl’s eyes lit up, unable to hide her joyous expression, "Master has used the Fierce Fire Oil Cabinet, right? I heard the previous dynasty liked using such firearms."

Song Xian said, "I have used it." Though this firearm seemed powerful, it was actually quite mediocre in use. Moreover, finding rocket fuel everywhere was troublesome, so he, preferring quick attacks, found it almost useless, hence not having it in his Vigorous Martial Army.

Xie Liangchen handed her drawing of the wind box to Song Xian. Looking at the delicate handwriting and the finely drawn items, this skill wasn’t developed in just a year or two. Clearly, the Li Family put a lot of effort into raising her.

However, she was unlike other ladies of the inner household, whose paintings typically depicted landscapes or flowers, her paintings involved medicinal herbs and now this.

It was said she did not conform to societal norms, yet what she painted was closely related to daily life, or rather... monetary matters.

Song Xian momentarily lost his thoughts.

"Master?" Xie Liangchen called out upon seeing Song Xian not moving after a while, wondering if he had found any issues.

Song Xian snapped back to reality, meeting her inquisitive gaze, and steadied himself, "This..."

"What?"

The light was too dim for Xie Liangchen to see clearly, so she leaned closer.

Her entire face was enveloped in the light.

This unfamiliar atmosphere made Song Xian feel a slight stir in his heart. Suppressing the odd thoughts popping into his head, he returned the paper to Xie Liangchen.

Song Xian, with a serious expression, said, "The drawing is too simplistic to glean much from. I have a Fierce Fire Oil Cabinet in my camp. I can bring it in a couple of days."

After speaking, Song Xian slightly furrowed his brow, wondering if his words were too harsh.

Xie Liangchen wasn’t discouraged by Song Xian’s words. Instead, she felt very confident, believing she could still figure it out even without the Fierce Fire Oil Cabinet. Having it would only make her efforts more effective.

In her excitement, Xie Liangchen said, "In my previous life, Master also lacked military supplies, right? Opening more furnaces in the North is always a good thing, not only increasing the iron tax but also planning for the future."

She indeed was considering future strategies for him.

Song Xian’s gaze returned to the document in front of him. A moment later, he handed over the letter Qin Maoxing mentioned to Xie Liangchen.

Xie Liangchen, slightly stunned, looked at the document.

Song Xian said, "You know what will happen in a decade. There’s no need to be evasive now. Since I regard you as one of us... and let you work for me, I won’t easily harbor doubts."

Xie Liangchen accepted the document, her gaze hadn’t yet fallen on the black and white letters, but she felt the relationship between her and Song Xian seemed to have eased further.

However, she seemed to always respond better to kindness rather than harshness. When Song Xian was fierce, she could utter soft words while scheming in her mind.

With Song Xian’s sudden shift in attitude, showing more trust in her, she felt weighed down, focusing on the kindness Song Xian had shown to her and her younger brother.

"Master," Xie Liangchen said, "Are you hungry? Talking about the pig stomach soup, I really can’t eat that much. If Master could eat some, I’ll go to the kitchen to heat it up."

"I had a meal before coming," Song Xian paused at this point, "but I can still eat more."

Xie Liangchen nodded, setting aside the document in her hand, and took the food basket to the kitchen.

Soon, faint sounds came from the kitchen.

Song Xian didn’t resume reading the document but began observing the simple house again. The room was empty, lacking any items. Even the oil in the lamp was poor, casting a dim light that barely covered a small area. After Xie Liangchen arrived at Chen Family Village, a considerable amount of silver had come and gone in her hands, yet she could only furnish her home this way.

It’s hard to say whether to praise her ability to earn money or her ability to spend it—if she is generous or frugal.

He sat on a small stool that didn’t allow him to stretch his legs, his arms kept close lest he overturned the table in front of him; yet he felt no anger in his heart, quietly listening to the occasional sounds she made in the kitchen, waiting for her to bring his warmed soup.

Is there something wrong with him?

Song Xian rubbed his eyes, tired from the dim light, and continued reading his documents.