Chapter One Hundred: A Battle of Wits

“Old scoundrel, have I broken into your house or stolen your granddaughter? How dare you trap me like this?!” Seeing the venerable Minister Yang Lin wear an expression as if he had everything under control, Zhang Qian was filled with the urge to punch him squarely in the face and leave him battered and bruised.

Yet, considering the man’s advanced age and fragile state, and the severe consequences of killing a vice-ministerial official in the Tang Dynasty, Zhang Qian forced himself to remain calm and smiled as he added, “Minister, please judge wisely. I was not exaggerating earlier. Look at this exotic beast—its fur is so short that it cannot withstand cold, and its neck is so long it cannot easily lower its head. I believe it must feed on leaves or fruits high up in the trees. Chang’an is prosperous, but in winter, the snow covers the ground and not a blade of grass is found—how could there be fruits on the trees? Therefore, this creature must come from a very warm place and cannot adapt to the Central Plains’ climate.”

“Ah, so that’s the case!” Minister Yang Lin feigned attentive listening, nodding repeatedly. “No wonder one of the pair of exotic beasts died on the way to Chang’an—it must have frozen to death. Poor the official in charge of transporting the beasts, unable to explain the cause, not only beaten for it but also stripped of his post and sent back to his hometown!”

As he spoke, he smiled slyly at Zhang Qian, as though silently threatening him.

“That official was truly wronged!” Zhang Qian felt a chill under the old man’s gaze and forced himself to respond. “Even if this beast were kept near a hot spring, it would fall ill one after another. To save its life, the best option is probably to send it south, where it is warmer and there are leaves and fruits for it to eat in winter.”

With that, Zhang Qian deliberately avoided looking at the old Minister Yang Lin’s treacherous smile under the pretense of feeding the beast—lest he lose his temper and throw a punch.

“Registrar Zhang’s words make good sense. I’ve long heard that the Guangzhou Governor’s Office enjoys springlike weather all year round and produces many exotic flowers and fruits. Sending the beast there is indeed the best choice,” Li Fengyu finally realized that every word from Minister Yang Lin seemed laden with hidden meaning and quickly added his agreement with a smile.

“Also, I’ve heard the south is extremely hot. Surely that suits this exotic beast perfectly!” Zhou Jianliang, a man of arms, spoke bluntly, unaware of subtleties.

Minister Yang Lin neither took offense nor contradicted, simply stroking his white beard and smiling, “Hmm, that is a good idea. Let it go where it belongs, lest it dies from maladaptation and brings ill fortune to the Tang.”

“Ah?” Li Fengyu and Zhou Jianliang were startled by Yang Lin’s words and wisely kept silent, not daring to risk further misinterpretation.

Yang Lin waved his hand, silencing the two men, his face brimming with satisfaction. Turning his gaze to the focused Zhang Qian, he smiled and pressed on, “Speaking of the south, I have another question. Places like Suzhou and Yuhang enjoy springlike climates year-round, and the Lingnan provinces are unbearably hot. Yet these regions have never seen this exotic beast. Registrar Zhang, learned as you are, could you enlighten me?”

Then, ignoring his seventy-five years, Yang Lin solemnly bowed deeply, respectfully seeking Zhang Qian’s wisdom.

“Please, please, don’t do this, sir! I beg you!” Zhang Qian, wary, dared not accept such a solemn gesture from a senior vice-minister. Hastily handing the feeding tray to Li Fengyu’s assistant, he turned and bowed in return. “You flatter me. The matter is simple. Although Lingnan is hot, there are places even hotter.”

“Hotter than Lingnan? That must be south of the sea! So that’s what You Zhao meant when he said ‘thousands of miles away’,” Minister Yang Lin said, withdrawing his bow and tugging at Zhang Qian’s sleeve, probing further. “Where exactly is his homeland? Pray, do not think me dull—please satisfy my curiosity!”

“Does You Zhao really know where this beast came from?” Li Fengyu suddenly understood why Minister Yang Lin was so fixated on Zhang Qian, eyes wide in disbelief.

At barely over twenty, Li Fengyu was among the most knowledgeable of his peers. But Zhang Qian looked about the same age—how could he possibly be so well-versed in products from thousands of miles away?

Unless the legendary ‘Mohist disciple’s worldly journey’ was not a shortcut but a carefully crafted tale. Or perhaps Zhang Qian’s scholarship came from some secret, superior lineage.

“No wonder You Zhao immediately knew to use fruits to attract and calm this beast!” Zhou Jianliang’s reaction was slower, but hearing the others’ remarks, he too guessed the truth, astonished and speechless.

It wasn’t just them; even in this era, with Hangzhou barely developed and Lingnan a land of smoke and pestilence, officials rarely ventured there except when exiled—and many who went never returned alive.

Thus, scholars and wandering swordsmen alike knew little of Lingnan, let alone regions further south some ten thousand miles from Chang’an.

“Minister, it’s simple. Just send someone to ask where this beast first appeared. If the place is coastal and foreign merchants arrive by ship, the answer becomes clear,” Zhang Qian said frankly, backed into a corner by the crafty old fox and his bumbling allies. “Previously I heard mention of ‘Kunlun slaves.’ If I’m right, these slaves are pitch-black, speak little Tang language, but are exceptionally obedient. They and this beast likely hail from the same place—probably over ten thousand miles from Chang’an! Alas—”

Recalling how a Kunlun slave was kicked to death by a giraffe, and how even if this giraffe was sent to Guangzhou, it would likely perish soon from not adapting, Zhang Qian sighed softly.

Minister Yang Lin laughed more gleefully than a fox who’d stolen a chicken and tugged his sleeve again, pressing on, “Since You Zhao knows this beast’s homeland, can he say openly whether it is an auspicious creature?”

“Old scoundrel, why single me out? Have I stolen your wallet or kidnapped your granddaughter?” Knowing escape was impossible today, Zhang Qian cursed inwardly and resigned himself, shaking his head. “You say it’s auspicious, then it is. Say it’s not, then it’s not. Whatever you say!”

“How so?” Minister Yang Lin found Zhang Qian’s predicament amusing and tugged at his sleeve again, relentless.

“This beast is as common as rabbits in its homeland, so it’s hardly a sacred creature!” Struggling free from the old man’s grasp, Zhang Qian stepped back to keep his distance before replying helplessly, “But to be transported from thousands of miles away and presented to His Majesty shows the grandeur and might of our Tang Dynasty, unparalleled under heaven. So today, I congratulate His Majesty and all the people of Tang!”

Having said that, he paid no mind to the stunned expressions of Minister Yang Lin, Li Fengyu, and General Zhou. He stood straight and bowed toward the Purple Forbidden Palace. “May the Tang Dynasty’s prosperous era last forever, and its national fortune flourish eternally!”

“May the Tang Dynasty’s prosperous era last forever, and its national fortune flourish eternally!” Li Fengyu, the youngest and quickest to recover, was the first to follow Zhang Qian’s lead, bowing toward the palace.

“May the Tang Dynasty’s prosperous era last forever, and its national fortune flourish eternally!” Zhou Jianliang and their subordinates soon regained composure and eagerly bowed as though Emperor Li Xian himself stood nearby, their solemnity absolute.

“May the Tang Dynasty’s prosperous era last forever, and its national fortune flourish eternally!” Unexpectedly, at the last moment, Zhang Qian leapt free from the verbal trap he had so carefully laid. The old fox Yang Lin was stunned for a moment before accepting reality, joining in with a broad smile and a gentle bow to the Purple Forbidden Palace.

“Old fox, are you satisfied now? Whether it’s auspicious or not, that’s your call!” Zhang Qian felt triumphant for finally besting the old man. “At worst, I’ll become the deputy supervisor of the horse stables. So what if I’m a groom? A groom is still a state official! Didn’t Sun Wukong once serve as the Great Sage Equal to Heaven overseeing the horses?”

Prepared for the wrathful backlash from Minister Yang Lin, Zhang Qian was surprised when, after bowing to the palace, the old man grabbed his sleeve again. “You Zhao is indeed far wiser than I was at his age—ten times over. Alas, my little granddaughter, raised by His Majesty as a consort of the Princess of Jincheng, was betrothed to the Tibetan king last summer. Otherwise, I would have asked You Zhao if he’d be willing to become my junior. Ah—”

Though the sigh was soft, it struck Zhang Qian like thunder from a clear sky. Stars danced before his eyes, but his robust constitution saved him from showing weakness, hiding his shock from those around.