Chapter 83: Senior Brother Becomes an Official

Chapter 83: Senior Brother Takes Office

“I have no idea! I’ve never dabbled in such matters! Weapons were never my strong suit!” Without a moment’s hesitation, Zhang Qian shook his head as if it were a rattle-drum. “And when I delivered the alcohol, I included a handwritten note forbidding it from being used near open flames. Could it be that Dr. Liu is illiterate? Or did the authorities misplace my instructions?!”

A triple denial—he absolutely could not admit to knowing about the potential for alcohol vapor to ignite explosively! He made a mental note to add an urgent new rule to the workshop: strictly forbid anyone from distilling alcohol with the windows closed. Otherwise…

He quickly glanced at Guo Nu and Ren Cong, feeling cold sweat trickling down his back.

Thank goodness he had gone to check the workshop that day, making sure someone opened a window in time. Luck had been on the side of those two youngsters, too, preventing the concentration of alcohol vapor from reaching explosive levels. Otherwise, the first laboratory accident in Great Tang would have happened at the Zhang family’s place, and the one now lying half-dead in bed would not be Dr. Liu!

“Your denial is for the best; it’ll prevent anyone from making an issue out of the explosion,” said Zhang Jiuling, half-convinced by Zhang Qian’s explanations, but subtly reminding him that even if he did know, it was far better to feign ignorance.

A few livestock—sheep, dogs, chickens, ducks—were of little value, and Dr. Liu’s carelessness in getting himself nearly blown up could hardly be blamed on others. But the Imperial Medical Office was right next to the inner palace. If some ill-intentioned person accused him of trying to harm the royal family, Zhang Qian would not have a leg to stand on, regardless of his lack of connections in Great Tang; even those from the most distinguished lineages would find themselves in mortal danger!

“Thank you, Heavenly Officer! My senior brother never once mentioned that alcohol could have such devastating power once ignited!” Guo Nu and Ren Cong, more experienced than Zhang Qian at protecting themselves and dispelling suspicion, promptly bowed in gratitude.

“It’s good that you brothers know nothing,” Zhang Jiuling said, pleased with their quick comprehension. After a moment, he continued, “Earlier, what I said was not just to comfort you. His Majesty truly values this alcohol. He personally bestowed it a name: ‘fire medicine!’ The Fire Medicine Office under the Military Ordnance Bureau is named after this!”

“What? Fire medicine?” Zhang Qian’s jaw dropped so far he nearly dislocated it.

If alcohol was now officially called “fire medicine,” what would become of the compound with the one-sulfur, two-nitrate, three-carbon molar ratio? And what about Sun Simiao’s fire medicine—shouldn’t his direct descendant, Sun Anzu, step up to defend his ancestor’s naming rights? (Note: Sun Simiao’s fire medicine was called “the internal alchemical sulfur method” in his classic, and never bore the name “fire medicine.”)

“Of course it’s ‘fire medicine’—it can ignite, and it can be used to clean wounds and prevent infection!” Zhang Jiuling, puzzled by Zhang Qian’s odd reaction, frowned. “Do you object to this name? Though His Majesty is the Son of Heaven, he welcomes advice. If you object…”

“No, not at all, absolutely not!” Zhang Qian waved his hands in rapid denial.

Fire medicine or not, the ancient Arabs once called black powder “Chinese snow.” Names may change, but that never stopped gunpowder from becoming a deadly weapon. When the time comes to introduce the true “one-sulfur, two-nitrate, three-carbon” killer, he could simply prefix it with “black.” White fire medicine and black fire medicine—one liquid, one solid powder—would be easy to distinguish.

“Since His Majesty has personally named it, the Fire Medicine Office now bears his mark. Once you take office, you shouldn’t have to worry about anyone daring to bully you,” Zhang Jiuling said with a smile, not pressing further. “Still, as this is your first appointment, it’s best to keep a low profile and learn to blend in. Frankly, had I understood how to conduct myself after passing the civil service exam, my own career wouldn’t have been so rough.” (Note: Zhang Jiuling placed in the civil service exam in 702 at the age of twenty-five, but struggled for many years afterward.)

—

“Thank you, Brother Zishou. I will remember your advice!” Zhang Qian, who in the twenty-first century had been nothing more than a graduate exam candidate, sorely lacked social experience. He listened carefully, standing respectfully, grateful for Zhang Jiuling’s earnest guidance.

“As an officer in the Military Ordnance Bureau, you won’t be involved in court politics. Except for New Year’s Day and the Winter Solstice, you won’t need to attend court sessions. Typically, you’ll get one day off every ten days, and as long as you finish your tasks on time, you won’t be expected to clock in daily. But be cautious in the first few months—avoid taking leave unless absolutely necessary, and don’t leave Chang’an City, in case His Majesty suddenly summons you for questions about fire medicine…” Wary that Zhang Qian’s inexperience might cause trouble, Zhang Jiuling continued patiently. (Note: “Summoned to court” means the Emperor may suddenly call an official for questioning or discussion.)

Clearly, he had in mind a desire to reciprocate favors. If not for Zhang Qian, who delivered alcohol and the alcohol-based disinfection method to the court via He Zhizhang, Bi Gou, and Zhang Shuo, Zhang Jiuling’s name might have been long forgotten by Emperor Li Xian, and he never would have been selected to help evaluate the disinfection method.

In fact, the alcohol-based technique for disinfecting wounds was even more effective than Zhang Qian had claimed publicly. Dr. Liu’s carelessness had serendipitously revealed another miraculous use of alcohol, which earned both Zhang Jiuling and Zhang Shuo special favor with the Emperor.

The Emperor, ashamed of having married off princesses to Tibet for political alliances, had elevated Zhang Jiuling to the Ministry of Personnel and placed Zhang Shuo as Deputy Minister of War—signaling that anyone who could strengthen the nation would be greatly valued, while those who merely played political games or wrote empty articles would eventually be cast out.

Zhang Jiuling’s heart was no longer young, having learned that grand ideals and ambitions meant little without a steady footing. Whether out of gratitude or in hopes of gaining a future ally, he was willing to treat Zhang Qian kindly, confident that one day he’d be repaid in full.

Though Zhang Qian was green in officialdom, his intellect was no less than the best scholars at the National Academy. Otherwise, he could never have become a philosophy graduate student under such difficult circumstances.

Sensing Zhang Jiuling’s hints, Zhang Qian listened with rapt attention, asking immediate questions whenever he encountered anything unclear. The result was a harmonious exchange: one teaching patiently, the other learning earnestly.

Their lesson lasted until sunset, concluding when Zhang Jiuling declined dinner, eager to return home before the city gates closed. Zhang Qian had thought to ask if he should perform the traditional “three refusals and three bows” before taking office, but on second thought, realized that if such posturing were appropriate, Zhang Jiuling wouldn’t be so keen to pass on his experience. He promptly dropped the idea.

Thus, when Zhang Jiuling left, he not only took with him a carriage loaded with chrysanthemum wine and medicated oil, but also the names of the two “talents” Zhang Qian had recommended to the state. With a Ministry of Personnel official personally delivering the list and the court eager for the Fire Medicine Office’s results, Guo Nu and Ren Cong’s appointments were smoothly expedited.

Before the end of September, Zhang Qian, now Principal Clerk of the Military Ordnance Bureau, together with the two new Ninth-Rank Supervisors, all brimmed with patriotic fervor as they assumed their posts. The distillery and alchemical workshop at the estate were left entirely in the hands of the chief steward, Ren Quan, whose years of experience as Ren Qiong’s right-hand man made him a master at managing such enterprises. As long as Zhang Qian remained their patron, he would never let the business falter.

With expert advice from Zhang Jiuling and a unique skill set, Zhang Qian, Guo Nu, and Ren Cong quickly found smooth sailing at the Ordnance Bureau. From the Director down to the junior supervisors, all found the three newcomers refreshingly straightforward and full of pleasant surprises, never causing trouble and always bringing something new.

There were concrete examples to prove it.

Take, for instance, the recent case of Supervisor Yang of the Armor Office. After greeting his colleagues one morning, he pulled Zhang Qian aside, his face flushing red. “Say, Principal Clerk Zhang, I’ve heard that your estate has a well with extraordinary water—supposedly, it has miraculous effects for medicine, warding off evil and preserving youth…”

“Mere rumor, mere rumor. My people spread such tales to help the estate’s finances by selling some unremarkable goods. I let them be, since their hearts are in the right place.” Zhang Qian caught on immediately, and before Yang could finish, handed over a silk-wrapped brocade box with a smile. “What they came up with is just this sort of trinket. You, sir, are a man of the world—why not take a few bottles home and judge for yourself? The effects are nothing special, all exaggerated by word of mouth.”

“Oh, but how can I accept!” Supervisor Yang protested in vain, finally tucking the box into his sleeve. “To tell you the truth, my wife is from Hedong. She suffered plenty before I entered service, so now I find myself lacking in vigor…”

“Please, don’t say that. Even Fang Xuanling left behind a famous tale for just such a reason!” Zhang Qian interrupted cheerfully, producing a wooden token stamped with three bold ‘Great Qin’ characters. “Let me give you this token. If your wife ever needs more, she can bring her maid to the Six Spirits shop at the West Market and pick out anything she likes—always the latest varieties, guaranteed to please.” (Note: The most famous “henpecked husband” anecdote comes from Fang Xuanling.)

Yang’s eyes turned to crescent moons as he gratefully accepted the token. “How can I accept—how can I accept…”

“It would be rude of you not to. My Fire Medicine Office just opened, and we’ll need your side’s help to quickly produce the refining cauldrons. Each one takes hundreds of pounds of pure copper—if not for your word, who would help a nobody like me?”

“Very well, then—I’ll keep an eye on the cauldrons myself. I guarantee pure copper, not a trace of impurity. You’ll have your first fire lit by the eighth!”

“My thanks, Supervisor Yang!”

Still smiling, Zhang Qian returned to his office, retrieved two more brocade boxes from his basket, and headed to the office of a certain Deputy Director Zuo. “Deputy Zuo, you work so hard! This is a specialty from my estate. I heard your daughter is soon to be married, so please accept this as a small token for her dowry.”

“Oh, Six Spirits Floral Dew—how can I accept!” Zuo Cheng, known for his stern integrity, stood up with a bow. “I had no intention of troubling my colleagues with my daughter’s private affairs. Supervisor Yang just can’t keep his mouth shut!”

“Even if he hadn’t said anything, we’d still want to add something to your daughter’s dowry,” Zhang Qian replied with a smile, placing a ‘Great Qin’ token on the table. “This is a special token our people made for Chang’an’s ladies to buy Six Spirits Floral Dew. With it, your daughter can try the latest scents at the West Market shop before anyone else.”

“I know—VIP token! Principal Clerk Zhang, you’re too generous. Rest assured, I’ve already arranged for your raw spirits—one hundred thousand pounds a month, not a pound short or you can come after these old bones of mine!”

“Many thanks, Deputy Zuo!”

With a cheerful bow, Zhang Qian backed out, took a third brocade box from his basket, and set out to “corrode” his next target.

—

“Come on, everyone! The Principal Clerk says the sooner we finish the furnace, the sooner we’ll get our reward—at month’s end, everyone gets a bottle of Six Spirits Floral Dew and two catties of chrysanthemum wine!” Meanwhile, Guo Nu was rallying the craftsmen and laborers.

“Anyone who doesn’t want the wine, sign up here—I'll sell it for you and hand over the cash! Fifty coins a bottle, fair and square!” At the other end of the workshop, newly appointed Supervisor Ren Cong enticed them with a grin, brush in hand.

“Thank you, Principal Clerk! Thank you, Supervisor!” The craftsmen’s eyes shone with excitement as they worked with double their usual speed, stacking blue bricks to build a massive stove.

Thus began their new chapter.