Upon receiving the affirmative answer, Lin Yi's last shred of doubt vanished, and her smile grew even brighter. Seizing the moment when he was agreeable, she pressed on like a snake following a stick: "Then I'd like to ask you for another favor, if I may?"
"Go ahead," Gu Fang said, looking at her with composure.
Lin Yi sat up straight, her expression turning serious. "I want you to help me find some people. They should be my fellow disciples."
"Should be?" Gu Fang frowned slightly, puzzled by her phrasing.
"Well, it's like this." Lin Yi had already rehearsed her story and now organized her words to make it sound as natural as possible. "When I was little, no one cared for me in the Minister's Mansion. Once I sneaked out and got lost. A kind person brought me back. Seeing how pitiful I was, he occasionally came to teach me things, saying that if I learned them, I could fend for myself even if I left the mansion later."
Lin Yi observed Gu Fang's expression and continued, "That kind person was extremely learned but had no fixed whereabouts, fond of wandering the world. He said he would take on disciples as the mood struck, but each time he taught only part of his knowledge before continuing his travels. Now that I've finally left the mansion, I want to try to find out if Master ever taught any other disciples. If we can recognize each other and support one another, that would be for the best."
Gu Fang listened thoughtfully and said, "So Xiaoyi wants me to help you find these possible fellow disciples? But you don't seem certain they exist."
"Indeed, I'm not sure," Lin Yi showed a hint of hesitation. "Master was very free-spirited. I don't even know if he had any other students besides me. However, Master once said that if we disciples were fated to meet outside, we could use a specific code to recognize each other. If one person says the first half, and the other can complete the second half, their identity is confirmed." Lin Yi stated the most reliable method she could think of for identifying fellow transmigrators.
In her heart, Lin Yi harbored a deeper anxiety she couldn't voice: she had studied materials engineering and was helpless against Gu Fang's injury and Physician Huang's verdict that his "lifespan was compromised." She could only secretly pray that if another compatriot had crossed over to the same timeline, they would be a medical student, or at least someone who had read the original novel and knew more plot details—someone who could tell her what would happen to Gu Fang and whether there was a chance of reversal.
Gu Fang noticed the unease and anticipation unconsciously showing on Lin Yi's face. His heart softened, and he said warmly, "I understand. Xiaoyi wants a way to broadcast the first half widely and wait for someone who can supply the second half to appear?"
"Mm-hmm!" Lin Yi nodded eagerly.
Gu Fang grew curious. "What exactly is this saying? May I know it?"
"Odd-even change, sign follows quadrant." Lin Yi enunciated clearly without hesitation.
Gu Fang was indeed taken aback. The ten characters combined to form a catchy phrase that sounded somewhat poetic at first, but upon closer examination, it was utterly incomprehensible. Every character was recognizable, but together they seemed like gibberish. He mused to himself: Truly like a mystery set by a transcendent master.
After a moment's thought, Gu Fang said to Lin Yi, "This is not difficult. I can host a poetry gathering in the mansion's name, inviting learned scholars from the capital and nearby areas. At the gathering, under the pretext of seeking a missing line or finding a kindred spirit, we can publicly offer a reward for the first half, announcing that anyone who can supply the most fitting second half will receive a hundred taels of gold. Even if no one can match it at the gathering, the news will spread. Later, if someone believes they can match it, they can come to the mansion at any time. I'll instruct A Fu to be attentive. This way, the message can spread without seeming too abrupt. Do you think this is feasible, Xiaoyi?"
Lin Yi thought it was very OK, and she and Gu Fang settled on several details. Although the poetry gathering was initiated because of her, it would actually be handled entirely by Butler A Fu. Gu Fang only needed to show his face, and she wouldn't have to do anything. So Lin Yi was completely relieved.
With the plan for finding people set, Lin Yi decided to strike while the iron was hot and formally begin her main mission.
Just as any major project requires a feasibility study and requirements analysis, Lin Yi knew that ancient people didn't live long, but she had no fundamental understanding of why they died young. Now she had to delve into specific data and reasons so she could clearly formulate a task plan.
"Husband, I have another question to ask you." Lin Yi turned around seriously.
"Mm, go ahead." Gu Fang focused on her.
"You are well-traveled and must have seen many ordinary people." Lin Yi cut to the chase. "In your view, what are the common causes of death among those commoners?"
Gu Fang's eyes showed a flicker of surprise. Instead of answering directly, he asked gently, "Why is Xiaoyi suddenly interested in this?"
"When my master taught me these skills, he said," Lin Yi lowered her eyes, her tone carrying a trace of nostalgia, "that these learnings should be used to benefit the people. He said the world outside was harsh, and many people couldn't survive a winter; once they closed their eyes, they never woke up. Before, in the Minister's Mansion, I couldn't do anything. But now it's different—I'm the mistress of the General's Mansion, and you are so capable. I want to see if I can achieve what my master hoped."
Gu Fang mused for a moment and then answered seriously, "I haven't lived in many places long-term. Besides the Imperial City, I spent years guarding the Northern Frontier. The life of commoners in the Imperial City is already among the best in Great Qian; deaths are mostly due to old age and illness. But the Northern Frontier has a bitter cold climate, scarce grain production, and no rice cultivation. Cold and hunger are the fundamental reasons most cannot survive."
Lin Yi was stunned. Rice? That was the staple she ate every day! How could the Northern Frontier not grow it? Although this was a novel world, since it was written by an Earthling, the geography should be highly similar to Earth's. In her understanding, the Northern Frontier in the book roughly corresponded to the Inner Mongolia region—could it really not grow rice?
Lin Yi's impoverished liberal arts knowledge began to scramble: Hadn't geography class mentioned "rice in the south, wheat in the north"? So shouldn't the Northern Frontier grow wheat? Or were there no other hardier crops besides rice and wheat?
Lin Yi racked her brains but found nothing about ancient agriculture. She had to ask honestly, "Don't they grow wheat in the Northern Frontier?"
This time it was Gu Fang's turn to be stunned. He frowned slightly, puzzled. "Wheat? What is that?"
Lin Yi's heart sank. Could this world, or at least this Great Qian Dynasty, not have wheat? She was truly letting down her history teacher.
"Well," Lin Yi scrambled to cover, forcing an awkward smile, "it's something my master mentioned during his travels—a crop called wheat that grows in extremely cold regions, drought- and cold-resistant. Maybe he was referring to places further north than the Northern Frontier?" Her voice trailed off, and she quickly suppressed the words "corn" and "potatoes" in her mind, daring not to ask further.
To prevent Gu Fang from probing deeper, Lin Yi swiftly changed the subject. "So what do the people of the Northern Frontier mainly live on now?"
Gu Fang seemed to accept her explanation and didn't press further. He simply replied, "Millet."
"Millet?" Lin Yi murmured, feeling her worldview take its first real jolt. She had always believed that being good at science and math would take her anywhere, and that confidence even supported her in accepting the mission from the Earth Consciousness to improve ancient people's survival rates. Not out of arrogance—with her knowledge base, even relying on existing technology, she could concoct cement, alcohol, soap, and even gunpowder; glass, improved farm tools, and weapons could be tackled over time.
But reality struck her like a blow. Could it be that what she needed to cram most after crossing over was agriculture? What the hell was millet?!
Perhaps Lin Yi's bewilderment was too obvious, for Gu Fang kindly explained, "It's normal that you don't recognize millet. It's coarse and doesn't grace the tables of nobility. It looks similar to millet but is hard for the body to digest, so we generally don't eat it. But the Northern Frontier is bitterly cold, with no better options. The people there also grow beans. But beans taste bad and easily cause bloating; they only eat them when there's absolutely no grain."
Millet? Beans? Lin Yi's scalp tingled as she felt overwhelmed by unfamiliar terms. She gave up struggling and directly asked for a visual aid. "Husband, could you let me see what millet and beans actually look like?"
"Yes. The mansion doesn't have them, but I'll have A Fu go to the market immediately to purchase some." Gu Fang saw she was on the verge of collapse and considerately stopped delving deeper, offering a better solution. "Moreover, if you want to look into this matter, you might better consult A Fu. He accompanied the army on campaigns early on and has a vast range of experience. He knows more about the customs and livelihoods of various places in Great Qian than I do."
A Fu was quickly summoned to the study. He bowed to Gu Fang and Lin Yi. "General, Madam, how may this old servant serve you?"
"Madam has some questions for you." Gu Fang turned his gaze to Lin Yi, signaling her to speak.
Lin Yi felt apologetic for troubling A Fu again today, so she softened her tone. "A Fu, thank you for coming. I'd like to ask you something: based on your knowledge, what do the common people of Great Qian usually die from? Are there differences across regions?"
A Fu pondered for a moment and said, "This is a broad question, Madam. Across all of Great Qian, seven or eight out of ten commoners die from hunger and cold. The remaining two or three are due to natural disasters and man-made calamities. Among natural disasters, floods mostly strike the south, windstorms often hit the southeast coast, and locust plagues, though infrequent, can devastate thousands of miles, leaving no harvest. Man-made calamities are mostly related to war, especially along the northwestern border, where the Xiongnu and Qiang Di tribes frequently raid, burning and pillaging, often leaving villages empty. Yet, whether from nature or man, at root, most deaths come down to hunger. Houses can be rebuilt, fields can be replowed, but once the granary is empty, people fall like autumn leaves from the branch, unable to survive the next winter. So in this old servant's humble opinion, the greatest enemy of the common people's lives is not swords or floods, but an empty stomach and lack of clothing."
After hearing A Fu's words, Lin Yi felt ashamed. The survival of ancient commoners was truly arduous at every step.
Author's note: