After landing a precise, heart-piercing blow on Hooke, Little Ox was in such a good mood that, in a rare gesture, he treated Xu Yun to lentil sandwiches on the street.
As he chewed on the dry bread and looked at the Song of Songs Inn sign not far away, Xu Yun couldn't help feeling a pang of emotion.
According to the usual course of history, a fire would break out in London in 1666, going down in the annals.
Its impact was so profound that historians even gave it a name: the Great Fire.
After the fire, Hooke displayed remarkable architectural talent and took a direct part in rebuilding London. As a result, he didn't have time to go to Trinity College and challenge Barrow until late 1668.
At the time, Barrow was at a loss to answer Hooke's questions. Hooke mocked and humiliated him mercilessly in front of a crowd of students, and the matter eventually even reached the president of Cambridge University.
Barrow fell seriously ill as a result. After recovering, he resigned from his post as Lucasian Professor in 1669 and nominated Little Ox as his successor.
In the years that followed, Barrow gave up mathematics and devoted himself to theology. It was rather like a character in a native wuxia novel renouncing the world and shaving off his hair to leave his troubles behind.
Barrow later earned a Doctorate in Theology in 1670, became Master of Trinity College in 1672, and rose to Vice President of Cambridge University in 1675. On the surface, that looked like an impressive career, but it recognized Barrow's achievements in theology, not mathematics.
Moreover, from late 1673 onward, Barrow was bedridden, and he died in 1677.
No one could say for sure whether Hooke's disruption had directly contributed to Barrow's early death, but one thing was clear:
A top Lucasian Professor had stepped down early and turned from mathematics to theology.
After all, Barrow had already derived the product and quotient rules for two functions, as well as the differential theorem—a level Little Ox couldn't even reach at that point.
In terms of research progress, Barrow was actually the foremost figure in calculus at the time!
As a result, in certain small circles, Barrow's reputation was rather like that of the young general from Qu'a in Romance of the Three Kingdoms—a rising star who had fallen before his time.
Now, with Xu Yun's arrival, Little Ox had, by a stroke of luck, helped his teacher avert a great disaster, but had also directly incurred Hooke's enmity. It was hard to say whether that was a good thing or a bad one.
Twelve days flew by, and in the blink of an eye, another Sunday had arrived.
Grantham.
St. Titus Didymus Church.
The church entrance was still packed with people today. Solemn, majestic hymns drifted faintly from within, and the turnout seemed even larger than when Xu Yun had first come.
It was the second Sunday of November. According to the customs of the seventeenth-century British Isles, on the second Sunday of every month, all of Britain held a large trade fair, organized around the fourth-level administrative districts.
The trade fair began on Sunday afternoon and continued until two or three o'clock on Monday afternoon.
So on this day, the church's worship bell rang an hour early, and the Communion portion of the service was skipped, giving everyone enough time to buy or sell goods.
Though such fairs seemed to spring up spontaneously among the people, they could not—and, in fact, did not—happen without the support of the parish.
At previous fairs, the church had sold items such as Holy Books, portraits of saints, and drinks.
But today, the stall belonging to the Grantham parish looked quite different:
There were no Holy Books or portraits. Only fist-sized clay jars stood neatly arranged on a table.
Four or five enormous ceramic vats stood behind the table. Xu Yun, Little Ox, William's family, and several helpers dressed in church garb were gathered around them.
According to the agreement Yarlin and William had made earlier,
the parish would ensure that tomato sauce was sold across at least a fifth of the East Midlands region, with Grantham only a small part of the territory.
Since this kind of nonreligious business didn't quite fit the church's image, Yarlin had handed responsibility for the fair stall to William's family.
The parish had only assigned a few people to help keep track of the figures and coordinate the supplies.
Mrs. William was wearing a cotton-linen dress and a white headscarf. She nervously wiped her hands on her apron again and again.
"Dear, how much longer until the service ends?"
William Askew was much calmer than his wife. He glanced at the clock tower in town and said,
"Should be soon. Maybe five or ten minutes."
"Dooong—"
Before William could finish, a deep bell tolled from the direction of the church.
It was the dismissal bell, signaling that the service had ended.
Moments later,
Creak—
The church's two heavy doors slowly swung open, and a stream of people poured out, bringing a wave of body odor with them.
Mrs. William grew even more nervous and hurriedly gave Lisa and the others their instructions.
"Lisa, check the spoons again. Elula, make sure all the jar lids are on tight. Andrea, where are the potatoes? Hurry and bring them out!"
The fair was held on a street beside the church. The parish's stall stood at the very front of the street, right by the only entrance.
It also had the exclusive use of a cross-shaped sign, so unless someone was an interstellar traveler, the stall was bound to be the first thing they saw when they entered the street.
Tiffany Boli had just left the church, holding her son Dino by the hand. She adjusted his slightly drafty scarf and asked,
"Dino, tell Mommy, did you pay attention in Sunday school today?"
Eight-year-old Dino hopped from one paving stone to another and chirped happily,
"I did! Today's lesson was about Job. Hey, Mommy, what's that?"
Tiffany Boli had been smiling as she listened to Dino. At his question, she turned and saw that he was pointing at the stall by the market entrance.
She smiled and patted her son's head.
"Oh, that's the church stall. Come on, let's go take a look."
Tiffany Boli's husband was a tailor in Grantham. His skill brought in a good income, and the family never had to worry about food or clothing. They were comfortably middle class.
In August, Tiffany Boli had bought a portrait of Apostle Peter at the fair and hung it at home. But not long ago, a cat had gotten into the house and torn most of it to shreds.
So since the beginning of the month, she had been planning to buy another portrait at the fair.
But as soon as she led Dino up to the stall, a man's voice greeted her.
"Hello! Would you like to try some of our newly released tomato sauce? It's free to sample!"
"Tomato sauce?"
Looking at the strange young man with black hair and black eyes, Tiffany Boli swallowed the words she had been about to say and asked curiously,
"What's that?"
The young man pushed a plate toward her with practiced ease, then picked up a small piece of potato cut into a thin strip.
"It's a new kind of sauce from the East, made from nonpoisonous tomatoes. The Grantham parish vouches for it. Look, we've even got a handwritten letter from Pastor Yarlin here.
"Supplies are limited, and we'll sell out when they're gone. You can try some before you decide."
"Tomatoes?"
At the word, Tiffany Boli's face showed a hint of hesitation.
As far as she knew, tomatoes were poisonous.
Then she glanced at the Grantham parish sign on the stall and at the parish workers in church clothes behind it. In the end, the trust her faith inspired gradually won out over the rumors she had heard.
The tailor's wife cautiously picked up a strip of potato, dipped it lightly in the tomato sauce, and took a bite.
A moment later, her eyes lit up.
"How much does it cost?"
Across from her, Xu Yun smiled and held up two fingers.
"Ten ounces of tomato sauce for just two pence!"
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