Chapter Thirty-Three: Making Soap

Page 1 of 3

The convoy carrying oils and equipment from Luoyang did not arrive until noon.

The oils in question were animal fats—mostly lard, with some other unidentified, but similarly fatty, substances. It was impossible to gather much animal fat in the manor itself, as the tenant farmers were impoverished. They had few livestock, and any animal slaughtered was put to use in every possible way; even the oil residue was eaten, considered a rare delicacy. Only a metropolis like Luoyang, where large numbers of animals were slaughtered daily, could provide a steady, abundant supply of fats.

Shi Jiulang, ever meticulous, immediately invited the original drivers to rest upon arrival and assigned locals to drive the carts into the warehouse, thus preserving secrecy.

Feng Xiaobao and the Princess of a Thousand Gold Coins arrived at the manor’s hot springs, where thick vapors drifted and the local vegetation flourished luxuriantly.

Upon reaching the hot springs, they found only a small pool, less than five square meters, with a simple shelter overhead. The facilities were crude, leaving them somewhat disappointed.

Madam Ding Eleven had already sent people to clean up and, after receiving the convoy, installed the equipment in its proper places.

The sounds of sawing and hammering could be heard as workers bustled about constructing new rooms.

Soon, a dozen or so craftsmen and maids began cutting up the fat and stoking wood fires to render the oil.

When the oil had been extracted and the firewood was spent, what remained was wood ash.

The simplest soap required a ratio of oil to wood ash of 1:5. The ash was mixed with water, stirred, filtered, and allowed to settle, and the resulting liquid became lye.

The fats and lye, along with water, were then heated and stirred together continuously until a soap mass was formed.

This was only a rough base, requiring further refinement to produce usable, effective soap.

After several hours, they produced a viscous substance resembling mung bean cake.

It looked questionable and unappealing, but when a craftsman, hands slick with oil, used the paste to clean himself, the oil vanished and his hands were left spotless.

Both the Princess and Feng Xiaobao tried it themselves—their hands came out immaculately clean.

The experiment was a resounding success!

Of course, this batch of “soap” was exceedingly primitive, but it marked a significant first step.

The Princess, her face aglow, exclaimed, “Wonderful!”

“How will you reward me?” Feng Xiaobao asked with a smile.

“What do you think?” The Princess threw him a flirtatious glance.

“When we bathe in the hot springs, you’ll attend me!”

“Gladly!” the Princess replied, laughing coquettishly.

They bantered back and forth, but no one else dared laugh or even look at them directly, keeping their heads down and focusing on their work.

Only someone as oblivious as Feng Xiaobao would be unaware of the Princess’s and the family head’s fearsome reputations. Provoking her could easily result in a beating or even being buried alive—she would not hesitate.

…

They spent the whole day at the hot springs, with the craftsmen tirelessly experimenting and refining the process, ensuring a stable production flow before working to improve the technique, increase output, and reduce costs.

For example, the first batch of soap left hands feeling dry—too much lye, which gave a burning sensation. So they adjusted the proportions to make the soap milder.

But too little lye caused excess fat to separate out, making hands dirtier the more one scrubbed.

They repeated their attempts, making countless adjustments, manually stirring the fats, water, lye, herbal powders, and essential oils for hours on end.

The craftsmen were earnest and diligent; people of this era were generally honest and hardworking, never shirking their duties.

Their environment was harsh: lye, boiling water, scalding oil, and steaming cauldrons filled the air with heat and smoke. They sweated as they mixed the ingredients, hauling large barrels of raw materials, relying on both strength and endurance.

Page 2 of 3

Did the Princess and the young master need to lend a hand?

Of course not—they were nobility. After a cursory inspection, they departed for home.

…Greenwood Manor…

The two were as close as honey and oil, but now, for the first time, they quarreled.

“You get one share, I get six, two shares go to a dear friend of mine, and one goes to whoever can offer help!” decreed the Princess.

“I take two shares, you four and a half, two to your friend, one to someone who can help, and the remaining half share as a reward for the workers!” countered Feng Xiaobao, clever enough not to contest the “two shares for her friend” and also supportive of rewarding someone who offered help.

He proposed giving half a share to the workers, believing that shared ownership would unite everyone and motivate them to make the enterprise a success.

They began to argue—proving that even the closest of lovers could quarrel over profit.

“I admit, without you there would be no soap. You’re invaluable! But to claim two shares as pure profit is too much. In fact, with your proposal, you’d be holding five and a half shares in total. I provided the land, the people, and the working capital. You want to walk away with two shares for nothing? That’s unheard of!” The Princess shook her head repeatedly.

“And!” she sneered, “You even want to give half a share to the workers—people whose names I don’t even know. Who would I give it to?” (Tenant farmers, after all, had no rights.)

Feng Xiaobao, accommodating as ever, replied, “Then we won’t give it. We’ll set up a performance evaluation system and reward bonuses based on ability and results!”

“I have no objection to that,” the Princess shrugged.

“As for my two shares…”

“I don’t agree!” she declared, unyielding.

Her stubbornness infuriated Feng Xiaobao, who immediately prepared for battle. But the Princess was far from intimidated—she met him head-on.

The Princess, in her mature beauty, was far more alluring than an ordinary girl. Her face was as radiant as an autumn moon, her figure voluptuous, her hair a cloud of ebony silk, her brows naturally arched and green, her lips rosy, her eyes as limpid as autumn water, brimming with sensual charm. Just meeting her gaze could make one swallow involuntarily, and if she wrapped her fair, supple arms around your neck, even the hardest heart would melt.

…

Once both were thoroughly exhausted, they returned to their business discussion. Feng Xiaobao repeated his point: “My two shares…”

Seeing the Princess’s almond-shaped eyes widen, he pressed a finger to her lips to silence her, saying, “Two shares—one as technical equity, the other I’ll pay for.”

“Pay for it?” The Princess’s tone softened, and Feng Xiaobao teased, “Your eyes light right up at the mention of money—such a greedy princess!”

“Well, even a princess needs to eat and spend money!” she retorted with a cold laugh. “I value the company at twenty thousand coins. Bring me two thousand within a month, or I’ll revoke that share and do it my way!”

“So heartless. Can’t you lend me two thousand?”

He was met with a fierce bite on his finger. “If you think I’d give you two thousand coins, you’re dreaming!”

“Come on, your money is my money, and my money is still my money!” Feng Xiaobao replied shamelessly.

“Get away from me—I don’t know you!”

Their banter continued, but the Princess knew that Feng Xiaobao would certainly come up with the two thousand coins—because that was a man’s duty.

Since he’d made the promise, she believed he could raise the funds.

…

After the laughter subsided, the Princess asked, “You want two shares—one as technical equity. But that’s not enough. Show your worth!”

Feng Xiaobao replied, “You’re squeezing me dry in every way!”

“How am I squeezing you?” the Princess asked, puzzled.

“You want my ideas, and you want to wring me dry in other ways. If that’s not double exploitation, what is?” he answered.

“I’ll squeeze you all I want!” The Princess’s anger flared, and she immediately pinned him down, and the two began to wrestle.

Page 3 of 3

…

As their limbs entangled, Feng Xiaobao offered a practical suggestion: “We need to set up a pig farm!”

“Pig farms smell terrible!” the Princess wrinkled her nose.

“But they bring in money, and then the smell isn’t so bad!” Feng Xiaobao replied, slipping easily into the role of a slave owner. “Besides, we won’t be the ones doing the dirty work!”

“That’s true, that’s true!” the Princess murmured.

Both were shrewd; establishing a pig farm would serve several purposes: pork could be smoked for preservation, wood ash from fuel could be used in soap-making, and the fat would supply the soap business. The locals would also benefit nutritionally—even the leftover cracklings would be welcomed.

“Secondly, where there’s stench, there should be fragrance. We should establish a flower plantation, dedicated to growing blooms.”

At his words, the Princess immediately understood: pig manure could be used as fertilizer for flowers, which could then be sold or added to soap to create scented varieties for bathing.

“We should buy medicinal plants like fleeceflower root to promote hair growth and enhance beauty, and ginseng…for medicinal soaps. But that’s a long-term plan, to be put on hold for now.”

“As for sales, since it’s a new product, we can offer samples in small packages for people to try. Once they experience its benefits, the money will start rolling in…”

He spoke with great enthusiasm, unaware that the Princess had stopped listening entirely.

When it came to promotion, his approach was a bit pedestrian. He didn’t realize that giving two shares to the Princess’s “dear friend” would, in exchange, bring a single sentence from the Princess: “I’ll use peony-scented soap!”

That single remark was worth ten thousand little samples—her endorsement alone would set the trend.

…

They stayed at Greenwood Manor for three days, spending most of their time sightseeing and only returning to the soap workshop for a second inspection just before leaving.

The business manager, Madam Ding Eleven, brought a disheveled old man to meet the owners. His name was “Old Man Cheng”—he never had a real name. He used to herd sheep and was called Cheng the Herdsman. Having never married, he was called Old Man Cheng as he grew older. He later became a helper at the distillery, where he made little impression, but this time, he truly shone.

Upon seeing the radiant Princess, he quickly looked away, not daring another glance.

“What did he do?” the Princess asked, frowning.

“Reporting to my lady, he added salt to the lye, causing the soap to separate, leaving the dirty water behind,” Madam Ding reported.

She presented several fresh bars of soap—solid, and quite usable.

Feng Xiaobao, listening nearby, praised him silently: “A real talent!”

The original soap, viscous like mung bean paste, contained many impurities. It worked for washing hands, but would only smear filth over the body.

With the addition of salt water, the soap separated cleanly from the dirty water, leaving pure soap on top.

Worried the Princess might not grasp the significance, Feng Xiaobao explained, “Old Man Cheng did well, Princess—he deserves a generous reward!”

“Very well, reward him with ten coins!” the Princess declared cheerfully.

“And Madam Ding Eleven, for your honesty and lack of self-aggrandizement, you too shall receive ten coins!” the Princess announced.

Delighted, Madam Ding and Old Man Cheng thanked her profusely.

Feng Xiaobao added, “Fetch some floral essences and oils to blend into the soap, turning it into scented soap for bathing. As for the dirty water, don’t discard it—it contains something called glycerin, which can be used in winter to moisturize hands and faces, keeping them from drying out!”

Ah!

“Most importantly, you must document the entire soap and scented soap production process in detail. Do it well, and your mistress won’t be stingy with rewards!” Feng Xiaobao instructed.

“Yes!” Madam Ding replied promptly.