Chapter 111: The Rolling Lantern-like Small Steamer Basket

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The Lantern Festival curfew would lift after tonight; from then on, order would return to normal. Every household gathered their unused firecrackers and brought them to the roadside.

The sharp cracking sounds rang near and far—the closest came from their own home and the Zhang family’s. Old Wang, Erlang, Wang He, and Wang Peng were outside, with Erlang and Apeng’s laughter the loudest, audible even indoors.

Inside the main room, Wang Ge and Wang Xing sat across from each other at the writing desk—one carving diligently, the other reading intently. Two oil lamps burned; none of the oil could be wasted. Jia Yu and Wang Shu sat at either end, the elder sewing gloves while Ashu mended socks for their father. Tomorrow they would head to Reed Pavilion—to clear land, build a house, farm, and clean. The most demanding task was making gloves.

Wang Dalang lay on his side with his back turned, blocking the candlelight, gently patting Wang Ai to lull the child to sleep. Strangely, Ai clung to no one else but the uncle.

“Phew.” Wang Ge blew away the wood shavings; the tiger head carving tilted backward, then sat up, moving carefully to avoid the flying shavings before approaching the lamp again.

“The Master said, ‘Diligent and eager to learn, one should not feel ashamed to ask those below…’”

“Phew!”

“Ji Wenzi said, ‘Think thrice before you act…’”

“Phew, phew.”

“The Master said…”

“Phew.”

Wang Xing simply moved over to sit beside his elder sister, watching her firmly grasp the smoothing knife as she carved a half-circle shape resembling a small bowl.

The smooth exterior of the “little bowl” was already difficult to carve. With no proper tools at home, they made do with whatever they had. After roughly shaping the curve, it all depended on the polishing skill. In the previous life, some self-proclaimed traditional woodcarvers used a wide variety of tools, including electric polishers, but that was a world apart from the Wang Nan family’s traditional craftsmanship.

What defines tradition? It’s someone like Wang Ge, who can work with the simplest conditions, making do with whatever is at hand, ensuring the carving is meticulous without a trace of impatience or carelessness.

That is the true inheritance of traditional craft.

Carving the inside of the “wooden bowl” required constant control of force; if one spot was carved too thin, the entire inner structure had to be thinned correspondingly.

“Phew.” She blew away the shavings and noticed her little brother had come over.

She warned quietly, “Don’t come too close,” then resumed carving.

Wang Xing puckered his lips and moved to sit beside their grandmother. Jia Yu put down her needle and gently asked, “What’s wrong?”

The little one was upset but knew not to disturb Wang Ge, so he whispered his complaint: “My sister has another little tiger outside and ignores me, hmph.”

Jia Yu didn’t want to upset Wang Ge either, so she pulled her grandson a bit farther away and smiled reassuringly: “The little tigers outside each have their own home. Our two little tigers will always return to one family.”

But that didn’t comfort Wang Xing. He thought: My sister will marry one day. After she’s married, how can I still stay by her side?

He sniffled, sadness welling up inside him. The more he thought, the more sorrowful he became. He refused to be sensible! With tears streaming down, he came to Wang Ge, sobbing hard. Sister, please look at me—if you don’t, my tears will fall.

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“Hey, what’s wrong, tiger head?” Wang Ge put down the knife and wood, pulled his little brother close, and moved the smoothing and carving knives away to prevent any accidents.

That small gesture instantly eased the child’s sorrow. “Sister, what are you carving? Is that little tiger so important? Because of him, you ignore me, and soon you’ll leave me again.”

“First, I’m making a small incense cage that won’t tip over no matter how it’s shaken, like a spinning top. Second, I can’t pay attention to you because I don’t want to break my promise. Think about it; I’m now the top craftsman, somewhat renowned. How could I make a promise and then break it? Right?”

“Hmph.”

“Sigh, sister’s finding it hard to keep up. What should I do? Would the tiger head help?”

“Of course! Hee hee.” Wang Xing was delighted, even more eager than Wang Ge. “Quick, sister, tell me what to do.”

“Help me roast two little bamboo sticks. They’re thin and short and hard to roast. They need to be bent into a circle and tied tightly with thin string. Can you do that?” Wang Ge demonstrated the curve with her fingers.

“I can. But if you use such small bamboo rings as axles and the little wooden bowl as the candle base, won’t it burn out quickly?”

Wang Ge smiled. “The point is to understand the principle through the little incense cage I’m making. Later, the Xie family’s workshop will replace these with silver or copper ones. Xie Ju is afraid of cold; if he can carry a small incense cage, he won’t suffer so much. Tiger head, help sister warm his tiger paws, alright?”

“Alright. I get it. I’ll help him with sister.”

“Ashu, come too. Help me weave bamboo strips. I’ll teach you to make a very pretty little incense cage.”

“Okay.”

Jia Yu clicked her tongue softly and shifted back, whispering to Dalang, “Look at your daughter—always chatting, fooling her brother and sister into working. Tiger head and Ashu seem happy to be tricked.”

“Heh. Clever, just like her mother.”

“Sigh. That woman from the Wei family is said to be very diligent. Don’t you want to meet her? Or are you waiting another two years for the tiger treasure?”

“It’s not all about the tiger treasure. Mother, I truly love Wu; you know that, no matter life or death.”

Jia Yu recalled Wu’s lively, earnest, always busy demeanor when alive, growing sadder with each thought. She changed the subject, “Your second brother looks good. Just a few days widowed and already three village families have proposed to him. But your third brother… forget it. That unfilial fool has no one interested, which means people aren’t blind.”

Dalang’s sorrow for his late wife was momentarily interrupted by his mother.

Outside, it was bitterly cold.

After burning all the firecrackers, Wang Erlang and his son doused the bonfire with water, thoroughly raked it to ensure no sparks remained, then covered it with soil, tamped it down, and returned indoors.

In the east wing room:

“Apeng, come here.” Wang Sanlang called, and Wang Peng immediately ran over.

“Father, I thought you were already asleep.”

“Come in.” Wang Sanlang closed the door and said, “Tomorrow morning, hand me the money allocated for you and Ai. You’re too young to keep it.”

“I didn’t keep any. I gave it to Grandmother, and Ai’s I gave to Uncle.”

“To her uncle? Why?”

“Uncle treats Ai well.”

Wang Sanlang squatted down, smiling oddly in the shadows, which scared Wang Peng. “Lately, I’ve been focused on you brothers. Apeng, are you feeling sad? Hmm?”

“Did Father go see Elder Brother today?”

“Apeng, Ai will go to Reed Pavilion, but you stay here with Father.”

“But if I stay, I can’t help Father and will be home alone… I’m scared.”

“Don’t be. When the time comes, I’ll take you to your brother. He’ll look after you.”

“Then I’ll talk to Grandfather.”

“Say it nicely, tell him it’s your own decision not to be separated from Father.”

“Okay. I’m going now.”

“Tomorrow morning, yes, tomorrow morning. If you refuse to leave and cry and make a fuss, Grandfather will let you stay with Father.”

“Okay. Father, I… I want a hug.”

Wang Sanlang exhaled and embraced the boy’s small frame, but immediately let go. “Go quickly.”

“Hey.” Wang Peng turned happily but then his smile vanished, fear surfacing. He hurried into the main room and lifted the straw curtain.

“Sister Cong!” He stood behind Wang Ge. “Sister Cong, I’m cold.”

“Come.” Wang Ge wrapped him in a quilt and first instructed Wang Shu: “Weave just as I said earlier. If you forget, ask me.” Then she touched Wang Peng’s cheek. “It’s so cold. Look at you, cold yet not hurrying inside. Are those fireworks really that fun? Headache? Hmm? Tiger head, quickly pour a bowl of hot water for your brother.”

“Not now, Sister Cong. I have something to tell you… you were right… it scared me…” Wang Peng whispered into Wang Ge’s ear, recounting what had just happened.

(End of chapter)

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