Skillful Sachet Making
Silence returned to the Buddhist hall, with only the lingering smell of candle wax bearing witness to the silent exchange of blows that had just taken place. Qingdai, still somewhat shaken, unconsciously twisted the hem of her dress. "Miss," she said, "they failed this time. Will they try something else?"
"Not in the short term." Su Qingyue carefully smoothed out the wax-stained page of the scripture. "The scriptures were their cover, and now that cover has almost backfired on them. They'll need to quiet down for a few days."
She walked to the skylight and looked up at the patch of sky divided by wooden slats. The snow that had blanketed the ground for days had finally stopped, and a few thin rays of sunlight tentatively pierced through the clouds, casting dappled shadows on the dusty ground. This faint light reminded her of the glimmer of light shining from the edge of a petri dish in the laboratory—even in the harshest environments, there is always a chance to break through.
"Qingdai, break the steamed buns that were delivered yesterday into smaller pieces." Su Qingyue suddenly turned around, her gaze falling on a few moldy spots in the corner of the Buddhist hall. "We should make some preparations."
Although Qingdai didn't understand, she still did as she was told and broke the hard, dry steamed bun into pieces the size of a fingernail. Su Qingyue then carefully scattered these pieces in various hidden corners of the Buddhist hall, and then took apart the two most worn-out prayer cushions, spreading the dry straw inside evenly over the areas where the steamed bun crumbs had been scattered.
"Is Miss going to catch mice?" Qingdai suddenly realized.
"Not only do we need to catch them, but we also need to ask them for a favor." Su Qingyue's lips curled slightly. In the modern laboratory, her forte was using biological characteristics to solve problems. These rats, which had been breeding in the Buddhist hall for many years, had now become the key pieces for her to break the deadlock.
Three days later, at dawn, when the maid who brought the meal pushed open the door of the Buddhist hall, she was almost startled by the sight before her and knocked over the food box—more than a dozen gray rats were scurrying around the pile of scriptures. Startled, they rushed and knocked over the inkstone, spilling ink on the scriptures, creating a mess of rat paw prints and ink stains.
"Ah! Scriptures!" the maid exclaimed in surprise.
Su Qingyue emerged from behind the Buddha statue at just the right moment, her face displaying a perfect mix of panic and helplessness: "That's how it happened last night. Perhaps the starving rats used the scriptures as something to gnaw on."
When the news reached Madam Wang's ears, this usually dignified matriarch nearly crushed her teacup. She personally led a group to the Buddhist hall, and upon seeing the scriptures ravaged by rats, her face turned ashen. Especially when Su Qingyue presented the only intact set of scriptures, the words, "Your daughter has fortunately fulfilled her mission and preserved Grandmother's most cherished Diamond Sutra," felt like a soft nail piercing her heart.
"Since it's a rat infestation, you can't be blamed," Wang Shi said through gritted teeth, her gaze sweeping over Su Qingyue's thin clothes. Suddenly, she smiled and said, "Since the Buddhist hall isn't clean, go back to your courtyard. The manor is preparing insect-repelling sachets in a few days; since you're free, help make some."
This seemingly lenient decision was actually a new challenge. Making the sachets required gathering a large quantity of herbs, and now, in the depths of winter, the household's reserves had already been distributed. To complete the task, the only option was—
"Mother, you are wise," Su Qingyue replied, lowering her eyes, "I need to go to the storeroom to get some mugwort, cloves, and patchouli..."
"The warehouse is currently undergoing inventory, so it's inconvenient to withdraw funds," Wang interrupted slowly. "I remember there are some herbs growing in the wild behind your yard; you can pick them yourself. Bring up three hundred sachets within three days."
Qingdai gasped. Gathering herbs in the dead of winter was already difficult enough, but three hundred sachets were far beyond what two people could accomplish. This was clearly driving them to their doom.
After Wang Shi left, Qingdai paced anxiously, "Miss, how is this possibly possible?"
"Why not?" Su Qingyue bent down and picked a withered blade of grass from the corner of the wall, gently twirling it between her fingertips. "Look, this is motherwort. Although it's withered, its medicinal properties remain." She then pointed to the eaves of the Buddhist hall, "Those are remnants of mugwort left over from last year."
The next three days became a spectacle that everyone in the Prime Minister's residence talked about with great interest.
Su Qingyue led Qingdai through the most remote corners of the Prime Minister's residence. They could find usable medicinal herbs in the snow-covered withered grass, in the cracks of the dilapidated courtyard walls, and even on the edges of the kitchen waste compost pile. She taught Qingdai to identify the remaining roots and stems of mint, to collect pine needles to replace cypress leaves, and to dry and crush orange peels to pass as dried tangerine peel.
"Miss, how do you recognize so many herbs?" Qingdai's eyes lit up as she looked at the growing number of materials in the basket.
"Everything can be used as medicine." Su Qingyue placed a handful of dried dandelions into the basket. "The key is to understand their properties."
What amazed Qingdai the most was the production process. Su Qingyue sorted and processed the collected materials; some needed to be air-dried, some needed to be stir-fried, and some needed to be steamed. She even improved the sachet recipe, adding a little Sichuan peppercorn and cinnamon to make the aroma more layered.
"Insect repellency and disease prevention can't rely solely on fragrance," she explained while sewing a sachet. "We also need to consider the volatile properties of the herbs. Mugwort repels mosquitoes, cloves inhibit bacteria, patchouli dispels dampness, and mint refreshes the mind... What we're making are functional sachets, not just pretty pillows."
When three hundred fragrant sachets were neatly arranged before Madam Wang, the mistress of the house lost her composure for the first time and knocked over her teacup. Incredulously, she picked up a sachet and sniffed it closely—the cool medicinal fragrance carried a hint of warmth, even surpassing the finished products she had purchased in previous years.
"Where did you get the medicinal herbs?" Wang asked sternly.
"Reporting to Mother," Su Qingyue said neither humbly nor arrogantly, "these were all collected by me in abandoned areas within the manor. Some grew from seeds left over from previous years, and some are common wild herbs."
Just then, the steward came to report: because these sachets were made of special materials, not only were the servants in the mansion vying for them, but even passing guests were asking where they could be purchased.
Wang stared at Su Qingyue's calm face and suddenly felt a chill. The abilities this illegitimate daughter displayed after falling into the water had long exceeded the scope of a woman from the inner quarters. She was no longer the orphan girl who could be manipulated at will, but an existence carrying some unknown threat.
"It seems the Buddhist hall has indeed been a waste of your time," Madam Wang said, barely maintaining her composure. "Since the sachets are so well made, you will be in charge of such matters in the manor from now on."
As they walked out of the main courtyard, Qingdai's cheeks flushed with excitement: "Miss, we did it!"
Su Qingyue glanced back at the imposing main courtyard and gently shook her head: "This is just the beginning."
She clutched the sachets she had secretly kept hidden in her sleeve, containing several specially added calming herbs—prepared for herself and Qingdai. In this treacherous mansion, they needed to remain absolutely alert.
As dusk deepened, Su Qingyue hung a sachet by her bedside. The delicate fragrance of herbs slowly permeated the air, like the first line of defense quietly laid out in the darkness. She thought of the carefully prepared potions in modern laboratories; now, in this ancient world, these seemingly insignificant sachets were becoming the first net she was weaving.
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