Chapter 113: Do You Know Who My Grandfather Is?

Early spring. Twenty-first day. Mid-morning.

Wang Ge, Xie Ju, and nine other official students had been traveling by ox-cart for a day and a night. The group only paused for meals three times a day; otherwise, they were constantly on the move.

The caravan was long, with more than a hundred people traveling on horseback alone. Master Zuo and Master Guo were also among them.

At the front, middle, and rear of the procession were burly retainers dressed in coarse hemp tunics. Some carried bows and quivers, while others held ring-pommel sabers and hook-shields. Wang Ge couldn't get enough of this impressive display; she felt a profound, Mulan-esque urge to join the army herself.

She was assigned to share a carriage with a four-year-old female student. The girl’s name, Bian Zi, was easy to remember. She was cheerful and lively, and Wang Ge, who was unusually sociable, quickly became friends with the little lady.

The carriage was lined with thick mattresses and the walls were sturdy, blocking the wind, but the suspension was poor. Every small bump caused their voices to flutter. At first, Wang Ge and Bian Zi found it amusing; whenever the carriage jolted, they would intentionally talk, then burst into giggles amidst the rattling sounds. After half a day, however, Bian Zi began to feel dizzy and nauseous, and she had to be carried onto a horse by the retainers every so often to get some fresh air.

She wondered which carriage Xie Ju was in, or if he was traveling on horseback. Where was the group going? What was the purpose of this trip? The academy had disclosed nothing.

The journey was clearly hurried and mysterious. She hadn’t even had a chance to test the small incense cage she had given Xie Ju. Classes didn't even resume on the twentieth; the students were simply led down the mountain at dawn by their masters, carried or held by the retainers. Wang Ge’s strange journey into antiquity had begun in this muddled, haphazard fashion.

Bian Zi was carried out again. Wang Ge lay back, swaying with the rhythm of the carriage, and began to miss her family. Were her grandparents out pulling cogon grass at this hour? The ground was frozen hard, making the roots difficult to extract; she hoped they wouldn't take off their gloves just because they felt clumsy.

Wang Ge was very grateful to Magistrate Huan. After her father arrived at Wei Pavilion, Magistrate Huan mentioned a shortage of winnowing baskets and hired her father to weave them from brambles, paying one peck of grain for each basket. Her father no longer had to feel anxious or like a burden.

It was laughable that Wang San—Wang Ge no longer considered this man her third uncle in her heart—had only dared to act like a thieving rat, secretly instructing A-Peng to throw a tantrum. But no tantrum came, and Wang San acted as if he had never said anything. A-Peng had wasted all his prepared excuses for their father; they weren't needed at all.

Her second uncle was truly having a run of romantic luck. On the sixteenth, when he drove the ox-cart to take them to Wei Pavilion, a widow among the tenant farmers who had already settled there took a fancy to him at first sight. Her uncle’s face had turned as red as if he were drunk; Wang Ge smiled every time she recalled it.

Three refugee families had already settled at Wei Pavilion, and Magistrate Huan said there would be twenty families by mid-spring. The two families joining their household would arrive in a few days. The contracts had already been drawn up and were being kept by her grandfather, not her second uncle.

The two tenant families were surnamed Liu and Li. The Liu family consisted of three people: an old man and his two daughters. The Li family had four: an elderly couple in their fifties, a young man who was deaf in both ears, and a three-year-old boy who was the young man’s nephew.

Every family had its own hardships. The boy’s parents were surely gone. The Liu family’s situation was also tragic; the two daughters were twelve and ten. They had once had two older brothers, one of whom died in forced labor, and the other died after falling while felling trees on the mountain.

Both tenant families had brought their own bedding but no food reserves. Once they reached Jiashe Village, her second uncle would lead them to the hillside fields to build huts where the sesame was dried, as there were already straw sheds there.

Wang Ge fell into a hazy sleep.

By early afternoon, she was awakened by Xie Ju.

As they stepped out of the carriage, she stretched her limbs against the wooden siding, but quickly tucked them back in, fearing she would be seen. Xie Ju watched her with a smile.

The procession had stopped on the official road, with the carts lined up along one side. The retainers set up earthenware stoves and boiled wheat rice in tripod cauldrons. Morning, noon, or night, it was always wheat rice with meat sauce. Among the eleven students, only Wang Ge dared to eat until she was stuffed, as she was the only one who didn't get motion sickness.

"I haven't had a chance to ask you—was that small incense cage modeled after a rolling lamp?" Xie Ju walked slowly, and Wang Ge hurried to keep up. The entire caravan was foreign to her, and even when she stepped out, she never looked around or asked questions, except when she had to follow the maids to the latrines.

"Yes. The outer frame is woven irregularly so that it remains stable no matter how it’s placed and won't roll away. The two inner rings are for balancing the semi-circular candle tray. You can have a craftsman replicate it in iron or copper, then add a candle or charcoal. You can keep it on your desk to warm your hands whenever you like."

Xie Ju suffered from a cold constitution, and he was truly delighted that his friend had been so thoughtful. He said, "I was quite amazed when I first saw a rolling lamp at Magistrate Huan’s residence. Lady Ge, you are truly a first-class artisan. I only thought of asking my father to make various decorative lamps based on the principles of the rolling lamp, but you..."

He suddenly tilted his head and frowned. "Wait. I only saw the rolling lamp that night after you had left. Where did you see it?"

"The rolling lamp, like the tube waterwheel, is something I devised myself," Wang Ge replied with a smile, speaking the truth since Magistrate Huan hadn't told her to hide it.

Xie Ju was astonished. It occurred to him then that perhaps being friends with Wang Ge wasn't her stroke of luck, but his.

That night, the group abandoned the carts and horses and boarded a large ship.

They disembarked the following afternoon. Wang Ge had to marvel at the wealth of the noble clans; an identical number of ox-carts and horses were waiting at the ferry. The new carriage she was assigned was nearly identical to the one before, right down to the patterns, save for the fresh bedding.

After another day of travel, the group left the official road. The small path was bumpier, and the sides were thick with thorns. Bian Zi returned to the carriage looking listless. To prevent being scratched by vines, no one was allowed to stick their heads out. When the little lady began to furrow her brows and gag again, Wang Ge realized this wouldn't do; at such a young age, the child could easily fall ill.

What could she do to help Bian Zi?

The satchel Wang Ge carried had been given to every student upon departure, filled with bamboo slips, wooden tablets, and a carving knife. These were certainly useful. Seeing Bian Zi in such distress, she took out a wooden tablet and several bamboo slips and began to craft something.

One had to be prudent when helping others, keeping it within one's means. She decided to make a simple Huarong Pass puzzle; it wouldn't waste much. She always kept several wooden blocks in her cloth bag. She poured them out, selected the suitable ones, and carved ten thin wooden pieces of varying sizes, inscribing them with characters like "Cao," "Guan," and "Zhang," with the "Cao" piece being the largest.

Once carved, she laid them out on the wooden tablet provided by the academy, fixed the boundaries, and cut grooves. She sliced the bamboo slips into five sections and wedged them into the grooves to form the perimeter of the Huarong Pass with an exit.

Bian Zi, too, wanted to distract herself, knowing that the more she worried about vomiting, the more she would. "Lady Wang, what are you... making?" the poor little thing asked, her voice weak.

"I'm making a toy that I know how to play with, but you might not."

"Oh? Quite the braggart!" Bian Zi crawled closer, asking, "Do you know who my grandfather is?"

"Do you know who my grandfather is?"

The little lady was stunned. "I don't."

"We're even, then. I don't know who your grandfather is either."

"Oh? Quite cunning." She huffed. "I could recite the 'Jijiu Zhang' when I was two!"

"You mean nearly three, right?"

"How did you know?" Oh no, she’d met her match.

Bian Zi asked again, "Then do you know... what we're going to do this time?"

"You know?" Wang Ge asked with a look of surprise.

"Ah?!" Bian Zi sat straight up, not a hint of discomfort left in her.

So, a few sentences could cure motion sickness! Wang Ge looked at the wooden blocks in her hands and hesitated: should she still finish it?