Early the next morning, at William's house.
The warm winter sunlight danced in patches across the branches, falling from the sky and lingering in the air. It illuminated every mote of dust, gently evaporating the night's chill into a haze.
It was the first day of a new week, and William Askew had no plans to tackle anything too strenuous.
Taking advantage of the pleasant morning sun, he carried his rather old recliner outside,
then settled in with his eyes half closed and a slightly blackened blanket draped over him, enjoying a rare moment of leisure.
But he hadn't been comfortable for long when, through his drowsiness, he heard a tremendous crash—or, more precisely, the sound of someone smashing through the fence.
Everyone knew what fences were like: whether abroad or at home, they didn't hold up long against brute force. It was just that most people didn't usually resort to such measures.
It was broad daylight, and even thieves wouldn't normally come calling at this hour. In his daze, William Askew had only one thought:
Good grief, had the Dutch invaded?
The year 1665 fell in the middle of the famous Anglo-Dutch Wars. John Bull and the Netherlands had fought four major wars, along with countless smaller skirmishes.
Woolsthorpe was inland, but that didn't mean some small unit couldn't slip in to harass them behind enemy lines.
At the thought, William Askew let out a low growl without thinking.
He was about to get up and run to the cowshed to grab a cow-dung stick and play Lu Bu when a face appeared before him, its features contorted with excitement but its brow and voice unmistakably familiar:
"Uncle William! Uncle William! Wake up! Wake up!"
At the sight, William Askew's brain stalled for several seconds before his voice suddenly rose:
"Little Isaac? You, with those thick eyebrows and big eyes, have betrayed Great Britain too?"
"?"
A visible hint of confusion crossed Little Ox's face, but he quickly brushed it aside. He gently tugged at William's sleeve and lowered his voice:
"Uncle William, listen—I'm telling you, we're going to make a fortune!"
The tug brought William fully to his senses. Frowning, he asked:
"Little Isaac, what exactly happened?"
Little Ox didn't answer directly. He cautiously glanced around, then lifted his chin and nodded toward the house:
"Uncle William, let's go inside first."
"What are you up to?"
William looked at Little Ox in bewilderment, then at Xu Yun, who stood behind him holding a bundle. Hesitantly, he let them into the house:
"...Never mind. Come with me."
As soon as they entered, Little Ox darted to the window and, with a swish, drew a tattered curtain.
Then, unusually, he didn't chatter away with Lisa. Instead, he led Xu Yun straight to the dining table.
Besides Xu Yun, Little Ox, William, Lisa, and Mrs. William, only one of the three sisters was present: Lilani.
It was worth noting that, compared with last time, the little rascal seemed better behaved. At least, there wasn't much mud on her face.
Little Ox set Xu Yun's bundle on the table, quickly took out a few roasted potatoes, dipped them in sauce, and offered them to William and the others:
"Uncle William, try this first. Aunt, Lisa, Lilani, you should all have some too."
William took a potato and held it beneath his nose, twitching his nostrils slightly:
"What is this, strawberry jam?"
Little Ox shook his head, keeping him in suspense:
"Try it and you'll find out."
William hesitated. But trusting Little Ox, he eventually ate half the potato.
Little Ox had taken the potatoes out of the oven not long ago. They had cooled somewhat on the way, but Xu Yun had taken care to keep them warm, so they were still pleasantly hot—just right for eating.
The moment the soft, starchy potato hit his tongue, a curious sweet-and-sour flavor spread across William's taste buds.
It wasn't as invigorating as mint, but it lifted his spirits and instantly whetted his appetite.
William's left hand and lips seemed to move on their own. Before his brain could register what was happening, he lifted the potato and took a bite, swallowing the whole thing.
Then he mechanically chewed, staring dazedly at his fingers, which were still stained with a little bright red sauce.
After a while, he looked at Little Ox and asked:
"Little Isaac, what is this?"
This time, Little Ox didn't keep him guessing. He patted Lilani, who was licking her fingers, and said:
"Ketchup."
The ketchup Little Ox meant wasn't the modern kind; the word was simply a transliteration of the Chinese term for tomato sauce. So William immediately understood what it was made from and exclaimed:
"Tomatoes? God, aren't those poisonous?"
He stepped forward, intending to stop Lilani from eating any more.
Xu Yun had been prepared for this. Smiling, he stepped forward and repeated what he had already told Little Ox.
As mentioned earlier, William was also a Cambridge University graduate, and he had earned a degree in natural science.
Given the level of education in 1665, that was roughly equivalent to earning a doctorate from one of the top universities in a later era.
Combined with what he had seen in recent years as his fortunes rose, William was soon led by Xu Yun to the same conclusion Little Ox had reached earlier, and was successfully convinced.
"Tomato sauce?"
William glanced at Lilani, who was busily gobbling down potato dipped in tomato sauce, then asked Xu Yun:
"Mr. Fat Fish, are you saying this is a specialty sauce from the East, and that you're willing to share the recipe with us?"
Xu Yun nodded, meeting his gaze calmly:
"That's right. It's a sauce developed by an Eastern chef named Yuanzhou. It's very simple to make. If Mr. William is willing, we can go into business together."
William studied the young man from the East, still looking puzzled:
"Mr. Fat Fish, if you have a technique like this, why not go into business on your own?"
"Because of my friendship with Mr. Newton, of course."
Xu Yun patted his chest, putting on an expression that said he and Little Ox were as close as brothers. Then he sighed and said:
"With the Black Death situation in London as it is, I'm afraid I'll have to stay in Woolsthorpe for a while. I can't get in touch with my parents for now either. I can't just stay here and eat and drink for free, can I?
"Besides, the market for tomato sauce is definitely substantial—it could even reach across Europe. But it's far too easy to copy, so there's no way to monopolize it.
"If I go into business alone, there'll probably be a whole bunch of imitations on the streets before I can even sell any in Grantham.
"Rather than make less on my own, we might as well work together and figure out how to earn as many guineas as we can before the technique is cracked."
Having finished his explanation, Xu Yun looked at William frankly and fell silent.
Some of what he'd said was true and some was false; it wasn't all lies, nor was it all fact.
The falsehood lay in his reason for sharing the technique. The true part was his assessment of the market for imitation products.
At present, in Britain—or, indeed, every European country except Italy and Spain—the greatest obstacle to producing tomato sauce wasn't the recipe, but the widespread belief that tomatoes were poisonous.
Making tomato sauce was actually very simple. You just had to boil and mash the tomatoes, then add sugar, salt, and cooking oil—Xu Yun had used butter at the time—and slowly stir everything together in the right proportions.
The process was unlikely to be cracked in just a day or two; that would be absurd. But it probably wouldn't take more than a couple of weeks.
After all, if the method were really that complicated, Xu Yun wouldn't have found it so easy to make in the first place.
Once people began to change their minds about tomatoes being poisonous, tomato sauce would be everywhere in a matter of days.
Take liangpi, for example. The national market for it was enormous, but had anyone ever seen a person or company monopolize it?
In some small county towns, you could even find "Shaanxi Province liangpi" sold by people speaking the local dialect.
That was the inevitable result of a technique with no real barriers to entry—and it was one reason Xu Yun had chosen tomato sauce:
Its flavor was naturally suited to Europeans, but the window before others copied it would be short, limiting how long it could make money.
That way, Little Ox and William's family could improve their living conditions without sending Little Ox's life down a different path.
If Xu Yun had chosen something else with higher barriers to entry—soap or Fleshlights, for instance—Little Ox might spend the rest of his life obsessed with money.
Back inside the house.
Looking at the tomato sauce before him, William considered the matter and said:
"Mr. Fat Fish, I have no objection to going into business together, but as for the exact profit-sharing ratio—"
"Mr. William."
Just as William was about to discuss how to divide the profits, Xu Yun interrupted him:
"Mr. William, we can discuss the split later, because we're still missing someone—an indispensable business partner."
At that, William and Little Ox exchanged a glance and asked in unison:
"Who?"
"Think about it."
Xu Yun pointed to the tomato sauce on the table and explained:
"For the two of you, who've had an education, it still took some guidance to understand why tomatoes were 'deadly.' What about ordinary people?
"Given what the common folk know, they probably wouldn't even understand the reaction of acid dissolving lead. How could you persuade them to buy tomato sauce?
"Just because it tastes good? Obviously not. No one would risk their life for something tasty."
Xu Yun looked at the two men, who were deep in thought, and spread his hands with a smile:
"So we need someone highly respected, someone who can earn people's trust with the simplest words. For example..."
"Pastor Yarlin of St. Titus Didymus Church."
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