MLMD -Chapter 67 Preparations

After bidding farewell to the old madam, Yue Yang returned to his own courtyard together with the Linglong sisters.

During the time Yue Yang had been away, the ones who missed him the most were not, in fact, Old Madam Tian and Yue Ying, but the Linglong sisters, who had only just given themselves to him. For days on end they thought of him constantly, never once letting him out of their minds. When they heard that Yue Yang was returning today, the two sisters were so overjoyed that they shed tears again and again. Yet constrained by their status, when they went to welcome Yue Yang earlier, they did not dare rush to him at once. They could only stand among the crowd, quietly watching him. It was only after Yue Yang closed the courtyard gate that the two sisters, as if casting aside all restraint, threw themselves into his arms together and began to sob silently.

Holding the sisters’ soft, supple bodies, breathing in the two similar yet subtly different scents of jasmine, Yue Yang felt a surge of desire rise from his lower abdomen. He could no longer care about anything else. Embracing the two of them, he strode quickly toward the room. Once inside, he pushed the sisters onto the bed and then went straight to the door to shut it. After closing the door, he hurried back to the bed and pulled the Linglong sisters into his arms.

By a woman’s intuition, Yu Ling had already guessed what was about to happen. Her face had long since turned crimson, and she said in a trembling voice, “Young Master, you haven’t eaten lunch yet…”

“What lunch? Let your young master eat you first!” After being jostled on the road for more than a month, Yue Yang had already been holding back far too long. Now that he was home, how could he possibly restrain himself? With a fierce pounce, he pressed the pair of gentle, lovable sisters down onto the bed.

“Master, I missed you so much…”

Soon, low, breathy moans echoed through the room…

Time always passes swiftly, especially at certain moments. When Yue Yang finally stopped his wild revelry, the last ray of sunlight had sunk below the horizon, and darkness filled the room.

“Chi—”

A streak of light cut through the darkness, illuminating the room. Yue Yang lit the two candles by the bedside, and the room gradually brightened.

After the passion, the sisters—utterly exhausted from being tossed about—lay there, their fragrant bodies slick with sweat and flushed with a rosy hue that refused to fade. Yu Ling curled up in Yue Yang’s arms. Her bright eyes were hazy as she unconsciously traced circles on her lover’s chest with fingers like tender scallions, panting softly as she said, “Young Master, could you tell my sister and me about that Mongolian princess?”

Yue Yang chuckled. “Why is Ling’er suddenly so concerned about this?”

“How could we not be?” Yu Long’s faint voice sounded from his left. The little girl had been lying quietly in Yue Yang’s arms all this time, not saying a word, and only now did she suddenly speak. “In a few months, that Mongolian elder sister will be my sister’s and my mistress. How could we dare not care?”

“Oh my…” Yue Yang laughed. “Why do I smell something sour here?” He reached out to wrap an arm around Yu Long’s slender waist and lightly scraped her pert little nose.

“Hmph…” Yu Long was very dissatisfied at being flicked like that. She let out a kitten-like hum while rubbing her sweat-damp little face gently against Yue Yang’s shoulder. Biting her pearly teeth lightly, she cast him a sidelong glance with eyes full of allure, a look so seductive it seemed ready to drip with moisture.

“You little minx, behave yourself. If you don’t, your young master won’t be polite.”

Yue Yang laughed helplessly and gave her shapely buttocks a light pat. Then he fell silent, thinking.

He could understand the Linglong sisters’ feelings. To be honest, after more than half a year in the Ming dynasty, Yue Yang had gained a much deeper understanding of its customs and conventions. In the Ming dynasty, the definition of marital relationships was strict and very clear.

According to Ming law, a man could have only one principal wife; all others could only be concubines. Concubines had many different names—secondary wife, side wife, auxiliary wife, little wife, and so on. To Yue Yang, this concubinage system was much like the “mistress” phenomenon in modern society, except that a concubine’s rights were far inferior.

The principal wife enjoyed the same authority in the household as her husband. If she was displeased with a concubine, she could beat or scold her at will; even beating her to death or driving her out of the house would bring no consequences. In modern society, a mistress openly quarrelling with the lawful wife in the streets—or even barging into her home to fight—would be unthinkable. Thus there was a saying among the people: Better to be a poor man’s wife than a rich man’s concubine.

Before Yue Yang was betrothed, the Linglong sisters had been his only women, so they had not worried. But once Yue Yang took a principal wife, everything would be different. Worse still, at present they did not even count as concubines. At most, they were merely bedmaids. If the principal wife took a dislike to them, their fate was easy to imagine.

After pondering for a long while, Yue Yang finally said gently to Yu Long, “Ling’er, Long’er, I know what you’re worried about. But you can rest assured—Hailanzhu is not an ordinary woman. In her heart, there isn’t much difference between a principal wife and concubines. Moreover, in a couple of days I’ll inform Grandmother and formally take you both into the household, giving you proper status. And I also promise you that once you bear my children in the future, they will still be raised by you, and they may call you Mother. That way, you can finally be at ease, right?”

“Young Master, is what you said true?” The moment his words fell, the Linglong sisters almost simultaneously lifted their beautiful eyes to look at him, their gazes filled with disbelief.

In the Ming dynasty, children born of concubines were not allowed to call their biological mothers “Mother.” They had to call the principal wife “Mother” and address their own birth mothers as “Aunt.” Though this rule was meant to emphasize the authority of the principal wife, Yue Yang found it extremely inhumane, which was why he made this promise to the sisters. Even if such a promise might seem shocking by the standards of the time, Yue Yang did not care.

“Of course. When has your young master ever lied to you? It’s settled. Tomorrow I’ll go speak to Grandmother and officially bring you both into the household, giving you proper standing!” Yue Yang said firmly, waving his hand. Then he added teasingly, “What, don’t tell me you’re unwilling to bear children for me?”

“Wuwu…” The Linglong sisters could no longer hold back. They both buried themselves in Yue Yang’s arms and began to cry. A warm, wet teardrop fell squarely onto Yue Yang’s face as Yu Ling sobbed, “Master, I will bear children. As long as Young Master likes it, I’ll keep bearing children for you.”

“Good! In that case, let’s start making children right now!” In a surge of heroic enthusiasm, Yue Yang once again turned into a wolf, pressing the two tender little lambs beneath him…

Another month passed in the blink of an eye, and it was already February of the sixth year of the Chongzhen reign.

During this time, Yue Yang made another trip to the modern era. This time, he went to Zhao Santong to get money. Previously, Yue Yang had brought over a batch of antiques, calligraphy, and paintings, entrusting Zhao Santong to sell them through an auction house. To his surprise, they fetched more than 360 million yuan. With these funds, Yue Yang acquired large quantities of salt, grain, and other daily necessities, and also had Jia Wenmao at the steel factory manufacture more than three thousand completed Minié rifles.

Yes, the rifles Yue Yang had Jia Wenmao make were the famous Minié rifles—a highly outstanding muzzle-loading rifle. Before the advent of metal cartridges and breech-loading rifles, it was the best muzzle-loader of its kind, bar none.

Thanks to its rifled barrel, measured powder charges, and unique conical, round-nosed lead bullet—the Minié ball—its effective range reached an astonishing six hundred meters or more, a distance already comparable to modern firearms.

However, when Yue Yang went to collect the goods, he noticed a fine sheen of sweat on Jia Wenmao’s forehead. Pulling Yue Yang aside, Jia Wenmao asked in a hushed voice, “Boss, is it really okay for us to make these guns? If the police catch wind of this, we’ll be eating bullets.”

“What are you afraid of?” Yue Yang laughed, slightly annoyed, and reassured him. “If anyone gets arrested, they’ll come for me first. Besides, I’m only selling these to rich people as antiques. Would you use something this old-fashioned to commit crimes? I could spend a few thousand yuan and buy a handgun that’s far better than this.”

“Let’s hope so…” Jia Wenmao always felt that his boss was shrouded in mystery—first forging large quantities of weapons and armor, and now producing antique firearms. What exactly was he up to?

Seeing Jia Wenmao still so uneasy, Yue Yang himself grew concerned. It really wasn’t wise to mass-produce rifles here. Weapons and armor were one thing—they were cold weapons and didn’t pose much trouble in modern society. But no matter how antique a Minié rifle was, it was still a firearm. If discovered, it would mean serious trouble. It seemed he needed to change locations for producing such things.

With that in mind, before leaving, Yue Yang had Jia Wenmao order a huge quantity of seamless steel pipes—so many that even Jia Wenmao was shocked. Then Yue Yang spent several days driving a small loader, transporting the supplies to the courtyard west of Yue Family Manor in the Ming dynasty.

Yue Yang knew that the greatest difficulty in making Minié rifles lay in the barrels. As long as he had enough barrels, he could have the remaining components produced by craftsmen in the Ming dynasty. That way, even if he were to lose contact with the modern era in the future, he would still have enough gun barrels to rely on…