Chapter Sixty-Nine

When the forest awakened in the morning light, Liaochen set out on his paper carriage. A long line of similar paper carriages followed behind him, the sound of shouting men and neighing horses making them seem almost real. However, they would fall apart the moment they touched water, likely scaring a passerby or two in the process.

At the hour of Chen, Liaochen waited early on the official road west of the city. From afar, the delivery carts from various wineries arrived. Liaochen greeted each shopkeeper with a warm smile. "Boundless blessings of the Heavenly Venerable. You are all truly men of your word." Pausing, he called out to the workers and porters behind the shopkeepers, "Please, just unload the wine by the side of the road for me." He dared not ask them to help load the wine onto his carriages. Paper is paper, after all; the weight of so much wine would have crushed his carriages back into their original form.

"Ah?" The shopkeepers were clearly puzzled by this strange request. "Daoist, do you feel there is something amiss with our wine?"

Liaochen waved his hands quickly. "You all represent time-honored establishments with golden reputations. You would never do anything to tarnish your names. Why would I ever think such a thing? I would not have ordered from you otherwise. As for leaving it by the roadside, it is merely because we have a long journey ahead. We prefer to pack and secure the load ourselves. You have overthought it, gentlemen." After explaining with a smile, he waved his hand. "Since you have delivered the wine, let us count it and settle the payment."

Once he finished speaking, Liaochen swept his divine sense over the carts, counted the items himself, and felt at ease. Still, he sent out a few paper men to make a show of circling the carts before saying, "You are truly men of your word. We shall certainly have opportunities to work together again; I hope you will continue to favor me with your business!"

The shopkeepers were delighted. Such a major client was rare, and they bowed in return. "Not at all, not at all! Whenever you need wine in the future, just come to us. We will ensure quality and quantity at a favorable price, haha..."

Liaochen produced the banknotes, counted them out in front of everyone, and personally watched the delivery fleet depart. Once the road was clear, he found a secluded spot and stored all the wine into two jade bottles. He then had his paper men carry empty jars, making a show of traveling toward Guizhou. After a long distance, he reached a desolate forest where he cast away the jars and gave a flick of his wrist. The paper men and the paper carriages burst into flames, turning into piles of black ash that left no trace behind. Liaochen himself immediately concealed his presence and flew toward the Longchang relay station in Guizhou.

Liaochen’s generous spending and prompt payment surprised the wineries in Chengdu, as he had bought an excessive amount. Some idle mind eventually concocted a theory: since the Daoist bought so much wine, there must be a secret purpose. Drinking it was impossible—that much wine could drown a crowd. Was he perhaps using it to refine alchemy? Wasn't it said that wine is the essence of water?

Consequently, in the months after Liaochen’s departure, rumors spread that spirits could be used for alchemy and that consuming them granted immortality. The liquor business boomed. The winery owners, secretly pleased, fueled the flames of gossip until even some Daoists believed it. It was only years later, when news arrived that wine-soaked sweet wormwood could treat malaria, that the rumors lost their market. Yet, the belief that wine could cure illnesses and extend life took root in Sichuan, becoming the perfect excuse for every drunkard to justify their habit.

Less than a day after Liaochen returned to Xuanguang Temple, Wang Shouren sent several hundred catties of sweet wormwood. Liaochen immediately ground the herb into powder and placed it into jars filled with wine, waiting for the alcohol to dissolve the necessary components.

"Master, what are you doing? With so much wine, can you even finish it?" By evening, Yun Lingzi appeared before Liaochen like a ghost.

Liaochen replied testily, "I am refining medicine, not drinking. Do you take me for a drunkard?"

Yun Lingzi stuck out his tongue. "Of course not. But can wine be used to refine medicine?"

"Of course it can. You will see in due time. Also, have you been slacking off in your studies while I was away?"

Yun Lingzi promptly shut his mouth and vanished in a flash. Liaochen shook his head; it seemed none of his disciples were the diligent sort. He wondered to whom he would eventually entrust the future of Xuanguang Temple.

The next morning, Liaochen personally opened the jars of wine soaked with sweet wormwood. He poured out the liquid, carefully filtered it through gauze several times, and set it out in the courtyard to dry. By noon, the liquid had evaporated entirely, leaving behind layers of yellow powder. Liaochen carefully collected it. Whether or not "artemisinin" would emerge several hundred years ahead of its time depended on this powder.

"Hmm, Daoist Liaochen, why is there such a strong scent of wine in your temple?" Just as Liaochen was preparing to find patients to test the medicine, Wang Shouren arrived. Before even entering, he was choked by the heavy aroma and called out from outside.

"Boundless blessings of the Heavenly Venerable. Official Wang, what brings you here in person?" Liaochen heard his voice and went out to greet him, only to see Wang Shouren followed by several men driving mules fully loaded with more sweet wormwood.

"I have been tossing and turning these past few days, quite curious as to how you would process this wormwood to increase its efficacy. It was mere curiosity—I hope you do not mind! If this is inconvenient, I shall leave at once." Wang Shouren made a gesture to depart, though his expression was clearly feigned.

"There is nothing to hide. You may know, Official Wang. But you must not spread this to others. It is not yet the time for the whole world to know," Liaochen said sternly. In his heart, he thought, *The current Ming Dynasty is like a sieve. I fear some greedy soul might leak this to the Westerners. If they gain the method of extraction, wouldn't it become a tool for their colonization? There is plenty of sweet wormwood in Guangdong and Fujian; if the Westerners spend a little silver and have the extraction method, will they still fear malaria? And without malaria to block them, when the Ming eventually looks beyond its borders, there might not even be a place left for us to stand.*

"Certainly, certainly." Though Wang Shouren did not know why Liaochen refused to make the method public, he trusted that Liaochen was not a man driven by greed. This was why he admired Wang Shouren’s character as a true gentleman.

After Wang Shouren’s attendants moved the wormwood into the temple, he tipped them and sent them away, then followed Liaochen into the room where the herbs were being processed.

"Is the method you mentioned simply soaking them in wine?" Wang Shouren asked, staring blankly at the room full of jars.

Liaochen nodded. "Simply soaking them in wine. And grinding them first. Some substances do not dissolve in water but will dissolve in wine. The malaria medicine we need is one of them. After soaking, we filter the wine, and what remains after it dries is essentially the medicine."

Wang Shouren sighed. "So, it is all just that simple. Why has no one tried this before?" He turned to look at the room full of jars again and sighed, "I fear the cost is somewhat high."

Liaochen was unconcerned. "No cost is too high when it comes to human life. Besides, it is not as if there are no less expensive ways." Liaochen immediately fell silent, as the next part of that thought was, *...I just don't know what they are.*