Chapter 238 Traveling Through the Middle Ages 238

Chapter 238: Journey to the Middle Ages

Perhaps it was because of the short but deep conversation before bed last night, Louisa didn’t suffer from insomnia, but she did have a string of dreams—one after another. Though none were nightmares, and she couldn’t even remember them after waking, they still left her tired.

When Louisa woke up in the morning as usual, she only remembered that the dreams had something to do with the plot of the "original book."

In truth, Louisa hadn’t thought about the original story in a long time. By now, the story had changed so much that it was almost unrecognizable. Given these differences, Louisa wasn’t worried about the so-called story momentum, since reality had already proven that the plot could be changed. Under such circumstances, clinging to the original story would just be tying herself in knots!

Even if at first she had occasionally compared reality to the story out of habit, she had gradually stopped caring. Proof of this was that she hadn’t even bothered to find out about Prince Philip—the male lead—and the female lead Sophia, despite the rumors swirling around them. Those rumors eerily mirrored the original plot, making one wonder whether it was fate or unavoidable narrative forces at work.

So what exactly had she dreamed about last night? Hilariously, she couldn’t remember at all. While washing up, Louisa zoned out briefly, trying to recall, but the memories remained frustratingly hazy. The harder she tried to grasp them, the more elusive they became.

In the end, Louisa gave up on recalling the dreams and turned to Gina to ask what’s on tap for today.

Gina, always the efficient assistant, answered without hesitation, clearly listing the day’s plans: “Today you’re scheduled to meet with several ‘captains’… Do you remember? They’ve been in the capital for several days, and today is finally their turn. You said to set aside an entire day for them.”

Louisa nodded immediately. “Yes, I’ve been looking forward to this. I’ve read the reports—they’ve done quite well, haven’t they?”

The so-called “captains” were actually members of a maritime trade fleet working for Louisa. This wasn’t something she had started back in Brudo—after all, while Brudo was wealthy, it was landlocked, with no ports to speak of. Small-scale trade, like importing silkworm cocoons from the East, was possible, but joining the big leagues of sea trade was out of the question.

The main issue was the limited productivity and purchasing power of the era, which meant limited money-making chances. While small merchants could dabble in minor ventures, becoming a major player required overcoming high barriers—not just financial or intellectual, but also in terms of connections and other hard requirements.

Louisa was thinking big when it came to maritime trade. And though the industry seemed vast, with merchants reaping huge profits, there was only so much to go around. Only a handful of goods were worth the effort of long-distance shipping, and even those couldn’t be sold in unlimited quantities due to what people could afford.

Under such conditions, even established players had to hold back expansion. For newcomers? The odds were stacked against them.

While in Brudo, Louisa had little chance of breaking into this field. But after marrying Guillaume and becoming Queen of Vason, everything changed. First, Vason had ports—though maritime trade hadn’t been a priority, as one of the most powerful kingdoms in the West, it boasted influential merchant guilds, including those of seafarers.

Second, the royal family naturally got their share of the sea trade profits. Beyond indirect gains from the industry’s prosperity, there were direct revenues—such as fleets owned by the crown. While royal involvement in commerce might seem like competing with the people, even in societies that frowned upon it (like certain Eastern cultures), it was unavoidable. In the West, where commerce held greater sway, it was even more prevalent.

Louisa had evaluated the royal trade agents, weeding out the incompetent and retaining the capable, then supplementing them with her own picks to form a new team. Beyond traditional trade, these agents were tasked with developing new commodities—a mission Louisa took seriously.

This was their first return from a restructured voyage to the Far East. Louisa had reviewed their reports and confirmed they’d met profit expectations—though, given the state of East-West trade, simply completing a voyage without piracy or shipwreck guaranteed excess profits.

But beyond the assured earnings, Louisa was far more interested in their progress on developing new goods. That was the real reason she’d reserved an entire day to meet the “captains.” Otherwise, for routine trade profits, such an elaborate arrangement wouldn’t have been necessary—especially for men of their low social standing.

After breakfast, Louisa received the returning captains in a palace hall. Far from the dashing explorers of later literature, these men struck her as rough and unsavory—either brutish or sly in appearance and demeanor.

On reflection, this wasn’t surprising. Given the hardships and dangers of long-distance maritime trade in this era, what kind of men would choose this life? Most “captains” were desperadoes who’d turned to the sea out of necessity, surviving through a mix of skill and luck.

Even those who hadn’t started as bad men were likely hardened by years at sea. Living among cutthroats and enduring brutal conditions demanded a wolf’s ferocity and a fox’s cunning.

Moreover, the harsh voyage took a toll on their bodies. Sun and salty winds left their skin leathery, while scurvy and other sailor’s diseases twisted joints, rotted teeth, and claimed limbs. Yet even this was a blessing—at least they’d returned alive.

Despite their fearsome appearances, these men were humble and respectful before Louisa—not just out of respect for her royal status, but likely also due to the aura of a “beautiful noblewoman.”

The era was paradoxical: while it vehemently denigrated women as inherently inferior, it also still had some worship of women—perhaps a remnant of ancient reverence or an overflow of Marian devotion into secular life. The result was that men often abased themselves before noblewomen they saw as earthly embodiments of the divine.

Courtly love, with knights’ over-the-top devotion to noble ladies, exemplified this.

Of course, this treatment had prerequisites. Only women of exceptional beauty and grace received such reverence. A knight who worshipped his lady might also rape a shepherdess or seduce a merchant’s wife without a second thought—to him, the former was subhuman, the latter little better than a witch.

As Queen, Louisa was Vason’s most “exalted” woman, and her beauty only magnified her aura. Even beyond these captains, many knights at court secretly adored her. Had she ever encouraged their advances, her retinue would have swelled.

Louisa attempted conversation with the captains, but it proved difficult. Though they shared anecdotes of the Far East, their insights were shallow—often less informed than Louisa’s own understanding. This wasn’t surprising: though they’d traveled to and traded in this era’s China, they lacked cultural fluency, perceiving it only dimly.

Their interpretations were often projections of their own societal norms—and thus inaccurate.

Louisa, though never having visited this period’s China, could view it from the vantage of history. While details might elude her, the big picture was clear.

However, despite her disappointment, Louisa did not show it. After asking about the customs and traditions of the Far East, she inquired about maritime trade—a topic the "captains" were far more knowledgeable about, providing much more useful information to Louisa.

In the end, Louisa did not spend the entire day meeting with these captains. In fact, she sent them away after just a little over two hours. But that wasn’t the end of it—Louisa still had to look through the items the captains had brought. Some of these were tribute offerings presented by the captains, all originating from the East (though not necessarily China; they could also be from India or West Asia, as those were also part of the East).

Additionally, there were the new products Louisa had requested for development… Her insistence on developing new goods wasn’t just a modern person’s blind pursuit of novelty. Rather, it was a necessity given the current circumstances.

Maritime trade with the East was already quite saturated. Maintaining the previous scale, as Wason had done this time, was no issue. But if Louisa wanted to expand, war clouds would loom over Wason almost immediately. Even without that, a trade war would be inevitable!

And trade wars in this era—Louisa could easily imagine methods like burning warehouses, pirate attacks, or outright market bans. These were all heavy-handed, downright savage tactics, but this was not a refined age. It was no surprise that conflicts turned bloody. Such a trade war was not something Louisa wished to see, and more importantly, she stood little chance of winning.

This wasn’t self-deprecation on her part. It was like the old joke: arguing with a fool only drags you down to their level, where their abundant foolishness defeats you. In the end, those experienced in such ruthless trade wars would have the upper hand.

Moreover, Louisa’s advantage in trade wars didn’t lie in these crude tactics but in the modern game-changing advantages she could employ. Abandoning her strengths to compete on someone else’s terms would be foolish—she wasn’t about to make that mistake.

In short, the established goods already had too many players. Even if Louisa could source them from the East, distributing them in the Western world would be difficult. The existing profit systems and market norms were deeply entrenched, not easily disrupted. That was why Louisa chose to develop new products—a thankless task others avoided. Who could predict which goods would be both popular and lucrative?

Take the most sought-after Eastern goods now—silk, spices, and sugar (which was also considered a spice). Their popularity was largely accidental. Who could have foreseen their success at the outset? In hindsight, people analyzed it endlessly, but that was all after the fact.

At the beginning, many products seemed promising, but whether they would actually take off was uncertain.

Louisa, however, with her modern perspective, could accurately predict hits. For instance, she had instructed the captains to bring back a shipment of porcelain from the East, preferably commissioning custom shapes and patterns from skilled kilns—imperial kilns were off-limits, but private kilns were abundant. With enough money, exquisite porcelain could be obtained.

"Is this the 'porcelain' from the Far East that you mentioned, Your Highness? It’s stunning—such colors, as if carved from gemstones… though no one would use such large gems for tableware." While examining the items brought by the captains, Helena immediately noticed the porcelain and spoke up.

The tribute offerings were barely worth looking at. Even if they were Eastern goods, Louisa already had plenty, and her maids weren’t particularly interested. Their attention quickly shifted to the glossy and finely crafted porcelain—exquisite and unlike anything they’d seen before.

"Yes, this is porcelain… What do you think? Will it captivate the market?" Louisa asked her maids for their opinions.

In ancient China, compared to silk—the crown jewel of East-West trade—porcelain, another major commodity, reached the West much later. It wasn’t until the Ming Dynasty that it entered Western markets, with mass exports occurring in the 17th century (though Song Dynasty export porcelain was already common, it mostly reached Persia, not Western Europe). In hindsight, porcelain was destined to be a sensation in the West.

At this time, Western tableware was largely divided: nobles used precious metals like gold and silver, while the poor used pottery or wood. Glassware fell somewhere in between—too expensive for the poor but not as exclusive as gold and silver. Whether it was used by nobles or the rising urban middle class depended on the glassware’s quality.

Each material had its flaws. Gold and silver were excellent but far too costly. Though Louisa used them casually, not all nobles could afford enough to keep up appearances. Many lesser nobles had the title but not the wealth.

Pottery and wood, even when finely crafted, were often crude. Moreover, their material limitations made them undesirable for anyone who could afford better.

As for glassware—yes, Western glass was famous. But at this point, it was nothing like the later versions—uniform, lightweight, crystal-clear, and heat-resistant. Even high-quality glassware for nobles and the wealthy was still flawed. And such glassware was scarce and expensive.

Porcelain, introduced to this Western world, filled a long-standing unmet demand. Coupled with the allure of the legendary wealth of the Orient, its popularity seemed almost inevitable.

"It’s beautiful, truly extraordinary… I suppose it isn’t carved from stone, is it?" Helena didn’t answer Louisa’s question directly. As an alchemist, she was more analytical. She quickly noticed the rough, unfinished base of the porcelain and formed a hypothesis.

"Is this… pottery? It feels somewhat similar… I’ve heard that if potters fire their clay too hot, they can produce a glossy surface." The texture and appearance of the base were enough for Helena to make the connection.

Louisa marveled at Helena’s sharpness and nodded. "In principle, yes. Porcelain and pottery are both kiln-fired clay, but porcelain requires higher temperatures, which demands more advanced kiln designs. The raw materials also differ—clay varies greatly."

"It’s astonishing. How did the Easterners discover this technique? This is no longer pottery." As she spoke, Helena picked up a blue-and-white porcelain plate. Unlike the typical Chinese motifs—intertwined lotus vines, pond motifs, chrysanthemums, or dragons and phoenixes—this plate featured a painting.

Chinese blue-and-white porcelain did sometimes depict figures—historical or mythological. But this plate showed the Virgin Mary holding the infant Jesus at his baptism—a design Louisa had specifically commissioned from Eastern kilns.

This plate was part of a set of 24, with six different designs, each repeated four times. According to the ship’s manifest, six sets had been ordered, all intact upon arrival. Louisa decided to keep one set for herself and sell the rest. This was just a fraction of the porcelain brought back—the fleet had carried a ship and a half’s cargo!

Over ten thousand pieces in total. Louisa intended to make a fortune from them while establishing porcelain’s reputation, paving the way for future trade.

"Different natural endowments, coupled with their craftsmanship, ingenuity, and a bit of luck, gave birth to such beauty." Louisa spoke with genuine praise—and a hidden pride only she knew—for her ancestral homeland, China, and its people.

Helena nodded, her admiration evident. She set down the blue-and-white porcelain plate and picked up a rose-purple washbasin, sighing, "This is stunning. Such rich, vibrant colors can be fired? The idea that rough, dull pottery and this are 'relatives' is unbelievable."

This washbasin was Jun kiln porcelain. During the Song Dynasty, Jun kilns were imperial, but even then, private kilns produced similar wares. Post-Song, this was even more common—this piece resembled Jun kiln porcelain, though Louisa doubted its authenticity.

Purple was the color of nobility in the West, and Louisa had instructed the captains to seek porcelain in vibrant hues. But according to the ship’s manifest, such rose-purple Jun pieces were rare—likely because achieving such hues was difficult.

"If it weren’t 'unbelievable,' how could it captivate hearts?" Louisa chuckled, pointing at the washbasin. "To introduce a new, popular Eastern product, it must at least meet this standard… It reminds me of how silk dazzled and enchanted the Romans over a thousand years ago."

"Indeed, we can offer a product rivaling silk… The only issue is that porcelain is far more durable. We can’t expect the same repeat business as with silk."