CHAPTER 242: CHAPTER 237 WRAPPED WORLD

Zhao Ming paused for a moment and then said, "Let me know if there’s any news from the paper mill."

Feeling somewhat uncomfortable sitting, he stood up to bid farewell, "I’ll head back now."

Zhao Hanzhang instinctively tried to hold him back, "Uncle, won’t you stay for a meal before leaving?"

"Dinner?" Zhao Ming glanced at her and asked, "Shall we just sit around for the rest of the day?"

Zhao Hanzhang fell silent and, taking Fu Tinghan along, accompanied him out. She noticed that Zhao Ming truly liked Fu Tinghan; his demeanor was noticeably better when facing him, unlike how he was with her.

As Zhao Ming walked out, he said, "Don’t bother with the iron pot and bean oil."

"Oh," Zhao Hanzhang replied, but whether she would heed his advice, only Fu Tinghan might know.

Zhao Ming didn’t know if she believed him or not, but he left anyway.

The snow scene was so beautiful; it was the perfect time to enjoy it.

Zhao Ming returned home, stood by the window for a long while gazing at the snow, and then summoned his follower, handed him a stack of invitations, and said, "The snow should stop by tonight. Send out some invites, and invite them to the garden to admire the snow tomorrow."

The follower took the invitations and bowed as he withdrew.

Zhao Ming summoned the steward and asked, "How many new dishes are there that require the iron pot?"

Without waiting for the steward’s answer, he said, "Let the kitchen prepare. Tomorrow, I’m hosting guests in the garden. Have them make stir-fried dishes, ensure they are delicious, and not cold, all cooked with bean oil."

The steward was stunned for a moment before complying.

Zhao Ming said, "If labor and pots are insufficient, borrow from the old residence."

The steward agreed, waited for a while, and seeing Zhao Ming had no other orders, bowed and withdrew.

Mrs. Wang agreed without hesitation and even lent out her best cook for stir-fried dishes.

She had always recommended the frying pan and bean oil to her sisters-in-law, but to little effect. There were even rumors that she was willing to risk her life to support her daughter by eating bean oil every day.

Mrs. Wang: ... They often eat things made from beans, like tofu and bean sprouts, so why can’t they eat bean oil?

Finally, there was someone who appreciated it, and Mrs. Wang was eager to prepare the dishes herself.

Zhao Ming, also known as Zi Nian, was the young representative of the Zhao Family in Yu State. When he invited people to dine, nobody could refuse.

Everyone who received the invitation gladly accepted.

Mr. Zhu, who had been reluctant to leave and had only sent a caravan back to Shu, also received an invitation.

He was delighted to go to Zhao’s Fortress, but since he was residing in a manor outside Song Family City, to get to Zhao’s Fortress, he had to enter the county town, walking from one end of the city gate to the other to exit. Upon entering the city gate, he encountered Fu Tinghan, who was about to leave the city.

The two cars drove towards each other.

Zhao Ming had mentioned the paper mill yesterday, so Fu Tinghan decided to take a look today.

After the snow had fallen for half a day and a night, the ground was now covered in white, and upon exiting the county town, all eyes could see was a vast expanse of whiteness.

Fu Tinghan, draped in a cloak and holding a hand warmer, sat in the car, occasionally glancing outside, seeing the white world. He specially asked the car to stop, got off, and stepped on the snow, which made a creaking sound.

He’s seen heavy snow many times, but it was his first time witnessing such a perfect snowy landscape where everything was white.

Fu Tinghan walked slowly on the snow, his thoughts drifting far away. Hanzhang rarely saw such snow. Did she know that the snowy scene outside the city was so beautiful?

The world was quiet and vast, and as someone walked in the snow, they felt like a tiny ant, so insignificant.

They were now racing against time. Could they truly change Hanzhang’s memories, preserve Yu State, and prevent it from being destroyed in the chaos?

Fu Tinghan halted and gazed at the horizon. In the face of nature, humans were so small. In the original course of history, how significant could the roles of both of them be?

Fu Tinghan stood by the roadside, lost in thought, as a carriage approached from afar, slowed down, and finally stopped by the roadside.

Fu An stood aside, watching vigilantly.

Mr. Zhu lifted the curtain, and upon seeing Fu Tinghan, he smiled, "Why is Mr. Fu standing by the roadside? Is there a problem with the car?"

Fu An, seeing his master still dazed, reached out to nudge him, "Master."

Fu Tinghan came back to his senses, albeit dazedly, turned and looked at him.

Fu An signaled him to look back, "It’s Mr. Zhu."

Fu Tinghan turned around and finally saw Mr. Zhu. He was curious, "What are you doing here?"

This remark was indeed a bit blunt, but Mr. Zhu didn’t mind and instead smiled, "Mr. Zhao is hosting a banquet at his home; I’m going to attend. What, hasn’t Mr. Fu received an invitation?"

Fu Tinghan honestly shook his head. After a brief contemplation, he understood why Zhao Ming was hosting a banquet. It seemed Zhao Ming, despite his verbal disapproval of Hanzhang, had privately been managing things for her.

Does this count as having a sharp tongue but a soft heart?

Fu Tinghan couldn’t help but chuckle. He had the carriage drawn aside to let Mr. Zhu go first, "You go ahead, Mr. Zhu."

Mr. Zhu was initially stunned, glanced at Fu Tinghan’s unchanged expression, then suddenly felt a bit ashamed. He didn’t rush to leave but instead asked, "Winter has arrived, and Mr. Fu is traveling; where are you headed?"

Fu Tinghan paused for a moment and then said, "I’m going to look at another courtyard."

The two fell silent again.

Fu Tinghan suddenly began to miss Zhao Hanzhang; with her around, the scene would certainly not be silent.

Fu Tinghan looked innocently at Mr. Zhu, wishing he would leave quickly.

Mr. Zhu, surprisingly understanding his intention, was initially taken aback, then couldn’t help but laugh. He raised his hand in salute, "Then I won’t disturb Mr. Fu any further. I bid you goodbye for now."

Fu Tinghan returned the salute, watched him get into the carriage, and then continued on his way.

Fu An hurriedly followed behind, and the driver also pulled the carriage to follow.

Mr. Zhu, sitting in the carriage, lifted the curtain and peered out, seeing someone walking slowly on the snow, followed by two attendants and a carriage a yard behind, not disturbing him. At this moment, he seemed to have his own world.

Mr. Zhu was lost in thought.

The follower, seeing him lost in thought for a while, couldn’t help but call out, "Master?"

Mr. Zhu snapped back to reality, lowered the curtain, "Let’s go."

The Zhu family’s carriage also started moving. Fu Tinghan had already put him out of mind, even forgetting the Fu An and driver following behind. No one knew what he was thinking about.

Fu An hunched his shoulders, following behind, only stepping forward to signal to their master when it was time to turn.

It was these three people and a carriage that slowly proceeded to the paper mill. Fortunately, the paper mill was not very far from the city gate, located next to one of Zhao Hanzhang’s manors. These were her tenants and laborers there was also a river, and the paper mill was built downstream, not far from the manor.

There were several water pits in the workshop, and when the craftsmen saw Fu Tinghan, they immediately came forward, "Master, we’ve soaked the fibers from the materials in three pits as you instructed."

Fu Tinghan slowly came to his senses, nodded, and said, "Let’s take a look."