Chapter 49 Paper Dyeing

After pondering carefully and realizing there truly was no place selling red paper, Zhao Bin shifted his gaze to Wang Wu. He weighed the pros and cons for a moment, but ultimately concluded it wouldn't do—buying red paper from a funeral shop just felt too creepy to even contemplate.

Cui'er blinked her eyes, as if a sudden thought had struck her, and spoke up, "Why don't we dye it ourselves? We can buy some rough straw paper and dye it on our own."

"Dye it ourselves? Do we even have dye? Is there any sold in the city?" Zhao Bin asked after thinking it over.

Seeing that no one else spoke up, Wang Wu cautiously ventured, "Your Highness, this humble servant knows where we can find some!"

"It figures it's old Wu. Quickly, tell me where!"

"The funeral shop should have some."

Zhao Bin wore an expression that clearly said, *Are you shitting me?* "Brother Wu, are you possessed by evil spirits today? Why are you so obsessed with funeral shops?"

Cui'er chimed in, "Actually, we don't need to go to a funeral shop. As long as we can find madder roots, the liquid boiled from them can not only dye fabric but also make rouge. The imperial concubines in the palace used to make homemade rouge with it."

"Your Highness, this humble servant knows where to find madder roots..." Before Wang Wu could finish, Zhao Bin frantically interrupted him in exasperation, "If you mention a funeral shop to me one more time, I'll make you sleep with a coffin in a funeral shop tonight."

With a wronged expression, Wang Wu said, "It's not a funeral shop. It's in the wasteland on the west side of the city. This humble servant saw it there when I went to pick out horses."

Hearing that it was in the wasteland on the west side of the city, Zhao Bin asked with some doubt, "There aren't any funeral shops on the west side, are there?"

"Is Your Highness referring to inside the city or outside the city?" Wang Wu asked with an innocent face.

"What do you mean? There really is one?"

"There is indeed a funeral shop on the west side, but it's inside the city walls. There aren't any outside," Wang Wu replied.

"Old Wu, call the men and grab your tools! We're going to dig up madder roots. Cui'er, Ling'er, you two go buy some straw paper—make sure to get the large sheets."

Out in the wasteland on the west side of the city, several people stared at the bare ground. Zhao Bin looked at Wang Wu: "Where are the herbs?"

"Damn it! Where are the herbs?" Wang Wu dropped to all fours and peered at the grazed-bare ground. "Which bastard ate all the madder roots? Could it be the old shopkeeper of the funeral shop?"

Zhao Bin landed a kick right on Wang Wu's backside.

Lu Biao chuckled from the side and said, "Your Highness, there were too many cattle and sheep in Yancheng before. This must have been caused by grazing. If we walk a bit further out, we should find some."

"Let's move," Zhao Bin said, striding straight ahead, with several guards closely following behind him.

It took over an hour of walking before they finally spotted wild grass poking out from the ground. It seemed the livestock really had been numerous before; if they ever brought in that many cattle and sheep again, they probably shouldn't let them graze so recklessly, as it severely damaged the ecological environment.

"Old Wu, Old Wu, see which one is the madder plant?" Zhao Bin called out to Wang Wu.

Wang Wu took a couple of random steps, squatted down, and yanked up a withered stalk that had lost all its leaves. "Your Highness, this is withered grass—no, wait, this is madder."

Zhao Bin took the dried madder root, inspected it from left to right, and asked, "It's all dried up and doesn't even have leaves. Will this work?"

Lu Biao and the other guards all shook their heads to indicate they didn't know. "Old Wu, will this do?"

"This humble servant doesn't know either. I've never made rouge before. But since Cui'er told us to come, I figure it should be fine," Wang Wu said.

"That makes sense. Come on, men, dig! Dig them all up, and don't leave a single root for the funeral shop," Zhao Bin ordered the men behind him.

The crowd: "......"

At noon, just as Qin Fang finished inspecting the city walls and was about to descend, he saw Zhao Bin leading a group of men carrying a dozen sacks toward the city gate. Looking puzzled, Qin Fang asked a soldier, "What is the Prince of Yan up to?"

The soldier shook his head and replied, "I have no idea. His Highness led some men out of the city early this morning."

Qin Fang walked down the ramparts just in time to meet Zhao Bin entering the city with a sack of dried grass on his shoulder. Cupping his fists in a salute, Qin Fang said, "Greetings, Your Highness the Prince of Yan."

Because Zhao Bin was carrying the sack, his vision was partially blocked. He shifted his body slightly, and upon seeing that it was Capital Commander Qin Fang, he replied, "Oh, Commander Qin, inspecting the city?"

"Indeed. What is this, Your Highness?" Qin Fang asked, gesturing to the sack on Zhao Bin's shoulder.

"This? These are madder roots."

"Why did Your Highness gather so many madder roots?"

"Hehe, it's a secret. You'll find out later," Zhao Bin said with a grin.

Qin Fang didn't probe further. Instead, he reached out to take the sack and offered, "Let me have some of my men help you carry it back."

Zhao Bin waved his hand. "No need, it's not heavy. I reckon it weighs only about ten jin or so—it's all just dry grass."

Qin Fang felt a bit awkward, thinking to himself that this wasn't about whether it was heavy or not; he was a prince, after all! Strolling all over the street with a sack slung over his shoulder looked utterly improper. However, since Zhao Bin refused, there was no need to insist.

"Alright, carry on with your busywork, Commander Qin. We're heading back first."

"Safe journey, Your Highness."

Zhao Bin waved, shifted the sack to his other shoulder, and walked straight toward the manor.

In the courtyard adjacent to the prince's manor, Cui'er had people set up a large pot over the stove previously used for boiling salt, and brought out a large wooden basin. They were just waiting for Zhao Bin and the others to return so they could fire up the stove, bring the water to a boil, and stew the madder roots.

"They're back! They're back, His Highness and the others are back!" Ling'er, who had been sitting on the threshold, stood up and shouted.

Seeing Zhao Bin walking over with a sack on his shoulder, Ling'er hurried forward to help. Turning to cast a reproachful look at the others, she complained, "Brother Wu, how could you let His Highness carry a sack? What would it look like if the common folk saw this?"

"It's fine, consider it a workout. Let Cui'er check if this will work," Zhao Bin said.

"Hear that? His Highness says it's a workout," Wang Wu chimed in with a punchable expression.

"I'll tell the Princess consort about this later and see how she deals with you," Ling'er pouted and said.

Wang Wu: "......"

Though Wang Wu had been a fierce warrior on the battlefield in his youth, later on, when he practiced martial arts forms with Imperial Noble Consort Ding at the Ding residence, he ended up with a bruised and battered face for days.

Once inside the courtyard, Cui'er had the men chop the madder roots into small sections, crush them thoroughly, and soak them in clean water while adding a specific amount of white vinegar to stir. If white vinegar wasn't added, the resulting liquid would turn out orange. As for why adding white vinegar changed the color from orange to red, Cui'er didn't know either; she only knew that this was roughly how it was done.

After soaking for a while, they fished out the madder roots and put them into the pot to steam and boil. Once the roots were boiled down to a mush, the liquid turned bright red. The group filtered out the liquid and poured it into the basin. Cui'er fetched a roll of straw paper, separated the sheets, and submerged one into the water vat so the straw paper fully absorbed the liquid. Afterward, she used two wooden sticks to gently lift the paper out and lay it flat onto a prepared cutting board.

"Your Highness, it's too cold today. It won't dry easily like this," Lu Biao reminded them from the side.

"Easy enough. Old Wu, go fetch a brazier and put it in the room, keep it burning hot! Lu Biao, go find some wooden racks and place them around the brazier," Zhao Bin instructed.

The straw paper was not of very good quality to begin with, and a few times they accidentally tore the paper, making everyone handle the subsequent sheets with even greater care. Inside the room, the brazier burned brighter and hotter, raising the temperature steadily. The freshly dyed straw paper was placed on the wooden racks surrounding the brazier. Although it turned red, it was far from vibrant, but for now, they simply had to make do. If they did this again next year, they would definitely have to prepare in advance.

After bustling about all afternoon, the group finally produced a batch of red paper. Zhao Bin said excitedly, "Bring me brush and ink! This Prince shall write a couplet for you all."