Chapter Thirty-Four: Autumn Lady

By the time Li Wenyuan returned home after tending to his affairs, it was already deep into the night. Qiuniang herself had gone into the kitchen and prepared a meal for him. Famished, Li Wenyuan devoured the dishes with the voracity of a whirlwind, barely pausing between bites.

After dinner, Madam Liu gathered the bowls and chopsticks, leading her two young maids back to her own quarters for the night. In the room, only Qiuniang and Li Wenyuan remained. Li Wenyuan let out a satisfied burp and began, “Qiuniang, you…”

He had barely spoken when a cough overtook him. Qiuniang, hearing the rasp in his voice, asked, “Master, what’s the matter? Your voice wasn’t like this when you went into the city this morning.”

Li Wenyuan sipped some water, quelled his cough, and replied hoarsely, “I held a motivational assembly for ten groups of men today. Honestly, it’s a miracle I can still speak at all. Qiuniang, could you make me a pot of hot tea? I just need to soothe my throat.”

Qiuniang chuckled, feigning annoyance, “Enough, drinking hot tea? Aren’t you afraid of scalding your throat and being stuck with this voice forever? Wait here, I’ll make you some pear soup instead.” With that, she headed to the kitchen alone, not bothering to call Madam Liu, and began preparing the soup herself.

After drinking Qiuniang’s homemade pear and white fungus soup, Li Wenyuan felt the fiery ache in his throat subside, though his voice remained somewhat hoarse. He placed the bowl on the table and said to Qiuniang, “No one’s cooking compares to yours. I’d love to have this again sometime.”

Qiuniang tapped him lightly on the head, saying, “Wishful thinking! This precious ingredient was a gift from Lady Ju. Without her, you wouldn’t be eating white fungus at all.”

Li Wenyuan paused. “Is white fungus so expensive?”

“Of course! This isn’t the era we’re used to—there’s no artificial cultivation, everything’s wild and rare. It’s a prized tonic,” Qiuniang replied, casting him a sidelong glance and thinking inwardly that men never concern themselves with such matters, regardless of the era.

Li Wenyuan’s expression changed as a thought struck him. “So, many things that are cheap in the future are expensive now?”

Qiuniang nodded. “Yes, everything depends on nature here. Yields are far lower than in the future, and rarity makes things valuable.”

Li Wenyuan continued, “Are the specialty products from the Xinjiang region, which were common in later times, still just tributes for the imperial family now?”

Qiuniang shook her head. “I’m not sure. I only remember bits and pieces, and after being here so long, the details slip away.”

Li Wenyuan found no answers in his musings and decided not to press further. He turned to Qiuniang. “Qiuniang, do you remember what I said to you this morning?”

Qiuniang blushed. Earlier, when Li Wenyuan had entered the city, he had lifted her onto his horse in front of his subordinates, staking his claim to her. That remark—“You wouldn’t want to serve men your whole life, would you?”—had lingered in her mind all day.

Qiuniang had arrived in the Sui dynasty during the second year of the Great Enterprise. Unlike Li Wenyuan, her crossing was the result of a traditional accident. She never spoke about the details, and Li Wenyuan didn’t ask. Technically, it should have been a spiritual transmigration, but after examining her own body, Qiuniang found it identical to her previous self. As she put it, her former life was Qiuniang, so she accepted the identity without qualms.

Li Wenyuan said, “The emperor has appointed me as the governor of eight prefectures in the Western Regions. At last, I have some power. I intend to mark the entire Western Regions with my presence, so we can protect ourselves in this unfamiliar era.”

Qiuniang listened as Li Wenyuan recounted his audience with Yang Guang and how he had been granted his position. She smiled and said, “Then I congratulate you on your promotion, Master.”

Li Wenyuan shook his head. “What’s there to congratulate? I have no political support here, only my military authority to maintain my position.”

Qiuniang replied with a smile, “Even if you lack political allies in the Sui dynasty, every official has their price and interests. You can use your military power to redistribute the Western Regions, build alliances, and pit factions against each other.”

Li Wenyuan nodded. “That’s exactly what I intend, and what I need you to understand, Qiuniang.”

Qiuniang’s expression cooled. “Are you planning to turn me into a social butterfly, sent to curry favor with local officials?”

Li Wenyuan realized she misunderstood and hastily clarified, “Not at all, Qiuniang. Listen to me—both of us are inundated with information from the future. We know how crucial it is to acquire intelligence promptly.”

Seeing that Li Wenyuan wasn’t asking her to do anything degrading, Qiuniang’s expression softened and she nodded for him to continue.

“I plan to establish an intelligence organization called Night Owl, and I want you to lead it,” Li Wenyuan said.

Seeing the confusion in Qiuniang’s eyes, he added, “After all, in later times, there were countless books and films about espionage. Even if some were less than respectable, they were still better informed than the ancients who never studied such things.”

Qiuniang asked, “What about personnel? You don’t expect me to build this from scratch alone, do you?”

“We’ll have to recruit slowly. There’s no other way,” Li Wenyuan replied, spreading his hands in resignation.

Seeing Qiuniang’s brows knit in irritation, Li Wenyuan quickly added, “We don’t need to start big. As long as we can control the Western Regions, that’s enough.”

Qiuniang gave him a glare but leaned back in her chair, saying, “That’s manageable. Though the Western Regions cover a vast area, the towns are few and small. It’s a good place for initial experimentation.”

Li Wenyuan laid out all his ideas about Night Owl and intelligence gathering, discussing plans with Qiuniang late into the night. Together, they drafted a development outline, written entirely in simplified Chinese characters to prevent leaks. Even if someone stole it, the information would remain safe.

Early the next morning, Qiuniang woke Li Wenyuan and said, “Three sisters arrived in Jincheng with me. They served as martial attendants to Empress Shen of Southern Chen. Now, they work as government slaves in the official laundry. These three are skilled fighters and sharp-minded—they can be my assistants. You need to find a way to buy their freedom.”

Li Wenyuan grimaced; he had no money left. But after thinking it over, he realized he could borrow some from Xue Ju. He already owed debts anyway, what was a little more? He was about to agree when Qiuniang’s next words caught him off guard.

“And the young woman you brought back from Goguryeo—her name is Gai Suzhen. I’ll fetch her from the Xue residence as soon as possible and have her help me in the Western Regions.”

Hearing Gai Suzhen’s name, Li Wenyuan felt his vision swim. That nemesis of his truly seemed impossible to shake off.