Chapter 477 – Where Are the Talents? (Part 8)
A tantalizing aroma of meat wafted through the layers of wrapped leaves, swirling around and making my mouth water.
“Today, all the eateries are closing up, so you know you won’t find a meal here,” Wei Ci remarked.
He lit a few charcoal braziers, and once the room warmed up a bit, he finally took off his thick fur coat.
“I wonder when the eateries will reopen…”
Zhang Ping, munching away, asked without a care for the dining etiquette.
“Probably on the fifth,” Wei Ci replied.
He wasn’t entirely sure of the date; it was merely his guess.
Given that the government affairs office took a holiday two days earlier and had seven days off in total, it was likely that the eateries would open on the fifth.
During this time, Zhang Ping had nowhere to buy food.
“Tomorrow I’ll go to the Tooth Shop to buy a capable cook for cleaning and cooking…”
Zhang Ping had mentioned this before but hadn’t gotten around to it yet.
Wei Ci displayed a hint of hesitation, and even Zhang Ping, who could be somewhat oblivious, felt there was something off.
“Zixiao, if you have something to say, just say it. No need to beat around the bush,” Zhang Ping urged.
Wei Ci sighed, “Has Xiheng considered staying in Xiangyang County?”
Zhang Ping frowned. He wasn’t foolish; he could tell Wei Ci was trying to poach him for his lord.
“Zhang Ping’s temperament, Zixiao, you know he can’t stand government affairs. If he’s stuck in the government hall like you, dealing with a bunch of mundane matters, he won’t endure it.” Zhang Ping’s words were already a refusal.
Some people had grand aspirations of pacifying the realm, such as Wei Ci.
Others, like Zhang Ping, preferred to take it easy, uninterested in the chaos outside and enjoying their own little world.
Everyone has their own ambitions and shouldn’t be forced into something they don’t want.
Wei Ci smiled faintly, “The current Lord, her personality might just suit Xiheng’s taste.”
Zhang Ping raised an eyebrow, intrigued, “What do you mean by that?”
“Xiheng studied various siege and defense weaponry. Coincidentally, the Lord is also someone with similar interests,” Wei Ci stated smoothly, not a hint worried that Zhang Ping wouldn’t be tempted.
For someone like Zhang Ping, no lord could align more perfectly with his interests than Jiang Pengji.
Wei Ci understood her; her strength wasn’t in battle or rhetoric but rather in “utilizing talents.”
Take Zhang Ping as an example: while he wasn’t adept at government duties, he was enamored with mechanisms and designs, possessing a keen talent for crafting. Therefore, Jiang Pengji wouldn’t make Zhang Ping manage too much bureaucracy but would likely toss him into the Woodworking Workshop to establish a specialized department and exploit his talents to the fullest.
Yet, Zhang Ping wouldn’t hold a grudge; instead, he would relish in being overworked.
A classic case of being sold while happily counting the coins for someone else.
Zhang Ping wasn’t so easily convinced; after all, who knew how much truth lay behind his statement?
“Let me show you something, and after viewing it, you can make your decision, Xiheng,” Wei Ci said.
With that, he pulled out a roll of bamboo paper from his sleeve.
The bamboo paper was large and hadn’t been cut, and as it unfurled, it revealed a series of bizarre drawings made with charcoal.
An outsider wouldn’t understand, but as a scholar of the Mohist school, Zhang Ping was highly sensitive to such matters and almost lunged to grab it.
He examined the design for a crossbow intensely, and after a while, his eyes began to shine.
Suppressing his excitement, he asked, “Who drew this?”
“It’s a work of the Lord herself. She’s quite curious about the Mohist school but stuck with Confucianism due to her family background,” Wei Ci explained.
Zhang Ping was entranced, letting out a regretful sigh after a moment. “What a shame.”
What a waste of a potentially great Mohist talent squandered on Confucianism.
Even more regrettable was that at Jiang Pengji’s current status, she couldn’t afford to study it deeply.
Such gifted potential wasted away.
Wei Ci smiled gently, asking, “So, has Xiheng agreed?”
Zhang Ping rolled his eyes, annoyed. “This trip really feels like a lost cause.”
If he had known there would be such a trap waiting for him, he wouldn’t have followed Wei Ci north.
Wei Ci maintained a saintly expression, feigning helplessness.
“The Lord’s study has many more complex machine blueprints… what you have there was only due to my polite persistence in convincing the Lord to let it come out… if you’re curious about the other blueprints, Xiheng, I’m afraid I can’t help you,” he said.
In reality, Wei Ci merely asked if Jiang Pengji had anything that could entice the Mohists, and she tossed out this one.
Zhang Ping felt a surge of anger; he retorted bitterly, “Wei Zixiao, you really are merciless.”
To recruit others into the fold, he stooped to such shameless tactics! Didn’t he realize that Zhang Ping had the lowest resistance to temptation?
Wei Ci’s smile didn’t falter; in fact, it became even brighter.
“The Lord is hosting a New Year’s feast—does Xiheng want to join?”
Zhang Ping, still feeling a bit down, immediately replied, “No, thanks.”
Wei Ci countered, “Without any reserve grain at home, are you planning to survive on the northwestern wind until the fifth?”
Zhang Ping was speechless: “…”
This time, he truly had no retort.
Speaking of that, he suddenly remembered something. How had Wei Ci managed his meals during this time?
Zhang Ping blurted out the question.
Wei Ci replied, “The government affairs office has a dedicated small kitchen. Our meals have been quite decent.”
Especially after Wei Ci came along, everyone’s living standards surged, even Qi Guanrang complained they were benefiting from Wei Ci’s influence.
Since Wei Ci was a patient needing good care, the food had to be nutritious and aesthetically pleasing.
Jiang Pengji took notes from the audience in the live stream and rapidly applied what she learned.
She cooked up a pot and arranged other utensils, teaching the head chef how to stir-fry and add seasonings to make the food more delectable.
It was only then that the audience realized how backward the cooking was in the world where the host lived!
In this era, food was merely boiled—could they endure that?
The seasonings on hand were mostly just salt and Sichuan pepper.
There weren’t even pans for stir-frying, let alone any actual stir-frying happening!
Many dishes were simply dunked in hot water, like boiling cabbage with a pinch of salt… such bland food.
Oh, and it was winter, so there was no cabbage at all.
Let alone steaming, frying, bursting, roasting, stir-frying, simmering, boiling, deep-frying, stewing, or mixing techniques.
As for the eight major culinary styles described by the audience, don’t even hold your breath in hopeful expectation for 5,000 years of gourmet traditions.
Even if Jiang Pengji wasn’t particularly picky about culinary delights, over time, she was teased into developing a craving by the audience.
So while it made sense that Wei Ci had gained a little weight during this time, it was only natural.
Just like the braised chicken drumstick Wei Ci secretly returned with today, that was the result of Jiang Pengji experimenting with the head chef multiple times, wasting plenty of ingredients and seasonings. This delectable sauce had even made Feng Jin want to stay at the government affairs kitchen rather than go home.
Even so, the audience couldn’t help but critique, feeling the host was suffering too much.
【Kneel and Call Dad】: Alas! Poor host, I really want to order an interdimensional takeout for you to broaden your horizons.
【Last Update】: Hey, Huangji Mountain Villa? Where’s my braised chicken rice? Why hasn’t it arrived yet?
【Heroic Spirit Endures】: Poor host, I just ordered a beef and potato bowl for you; just thought you might want to savor the aroma.
