Chapter 19: The Bamboo Craftsman and the Bamboo

No matter what the craftsperson made, the first step was always material selection. For this examination, the county had provided the bamboo uniformly, saving them the trouble of “choosing bamboo.” Thus, the first step now was “cutting the bamboo.” This didn’t mean sawing the culm into segments, but rather removing just the two ends: the root end, which was often too short and knobby, and the tip, which tended to be thin—especially with Phyllostachys, whose tips were almost always curved and had to be cut away.

The second step was “smoothing the nodes.” Using a paring knife, all the bamboo’s nodal scars were shaved flat. As this required rotating the bamboo constantly in the hand, the process was called “rolling the nodes.”

The third step was “splitting the bamboo.” A notch was cut at the center of the uppermost section. After opening the first segment, the knife was set aside. Standing, one pressed down on the bamboo with both hands, using the natural tendency of bamboo to split along its grain. If the split became asymmetrical, the smaller half was rotated to the top, and the process continued. When only two segments remained, the bamboo was placed on the ground, one half pinned underfoot while the other was pulled upward by hand, completing the division.

The fourth step was “layering.” The key was symmetry and evenness. Only through symmetry could one best harness bamboo’s natural splitting force, making it possible to continually halve the stalk without undue effort. This is why people liken a series of victories to “splitting bamboo”—swift and unstoppable.

There were no restrictions on the thickness of the resulting bamboo strips; it depended on the object the artisan intended to weave. However, each split must always be perpendicular to the bamboo surface.

Wang Ge worked with full concentration. Gradually, the unfamiliarity of the knife in her hand faded away, and as she adapted, each crisp crack of the splitting bamboo seemed to awaken the artisan’s instincts within her.

Wang Nanxing...

In her past life, she was Wang Nanxing, master bamboo weaver!

Crack! The bamboo split.

Crack! Another section separated.

As the bamboo shavings accumulated on the ground, the sun climbed higher, the air thickening with heat. Wang Ge was soaked with sweat, her face dripping, but she was wholly unaware.

Crack!

Crack!

The bamboo’s crisp, ringing sound was so pleasing to the ear, each note stirring excitement deep in her bones, quickening the blood of a true artisan.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

The sharp sounds of splitting bamboo signified not only the artisan’s coming devotion but also foretold the bamboo’s impending transformation—a rebirth from the ashes.

The bond between artisan and bamboo was never that of butcher and lamb; it was a mutual fulfillment.

A bondservant quietly set a lunch basket in Wang Ge’s workspace, and only then did she realize midday had arrived.

Lunch was a steamed flatbread and a bamboo flask filled with water—both the basket and flask were gifts for the artisans, meant for repeated use. Thirsty, one could seek out a servant for a refill.

After eating and replenishing her water, she visited the latrine. Perhaps because there were few women, it wasn’t too dirty. Two suspicious bamboo strips leaned against the wall. Wang Ge wondered who, after only half a day, had already needed them.

Returning, she continued preparing bamboo strips—a process that would occupy the first two days, as each strip had to be scraped multiple times with a blade to achieve perfect smoothness and uniformity.

At dusk, the drum sounded, signaling the first elimination of artisans in this round of the examination—the “unfit drum.”

All the artisans’ hearts leapt with the beat, for it meant the examiners were making their rounds.

Dong! The drum sounded a second time, less than a quarter of an hour later.

Why such a quick elimination? Wasn’t it required that at least three examiners unanimously give a “poor” grade for someone to be dismissed? Were the judges truly so decisive?

Wang Ge’s mind raced with speculation. In her section, the examiners weren’t yet visible, but the servants began delivering the evening meal in wheelbarrows.

She set aside her bamboo strips and selected some finer tubes to create her second entry for the exam: the Double-Row Popper Tube!

In her former life, in regions rich with bamboo, many children knew how to make such toys. Once one understood air pressure, making them required hardly any skill.

The “popper balls” could be fashioned from clay marbles—no regret if they were lost after firing.

Nine examiners approached—seven men and two women, all master artisans in woodcraft, some specializing in carpentry, others in bamboo weaving. In Zhang Qing’s section, most nodded and smiled in praise.

Zhang Qing's piece was a bamboo mat—conventional, but the more standard the item, the more it revealed the artisan’s skill and lineage.

The chief examiner, a mid-level master, recognized Zhang Qing’s weaving technique and explained to the others, “This is the mirror-weave unique to the Zhao family of Mount Kuaiji. The strips are extremely fine; once completed, the mat is smooth as a mirror.”

Upon hearing his lineage mentioned, Zhang Qing paused his work and stood up respectfully.

The chief examiner, pleased, nodded. “Carry on. Let’s move on.”

By the time they reached Wang Ge’s area, dusk had fallen.

Wang Ge had stacked her bamboo strips in perfect order. The examiners’ sharp eyes instantly recognized her speed and consistency—a feat achieved only through years of practice.

A few even let slip quiet exclamations, a testament to their surprise.

The chief examiner ran his hand over the strips, both with and against the grain—smooth and free of splinters, proof that this was no superficial effort.

“What is your name?” he asked.

Wang Ge had already set aside her work and answered promptly, “Candidate Wang Ge.”

“What is that you’re holding?”

She had been waiting for this question. Lifting the popper tube in both hands, she replied, “It’s something I made to scare away mice—just a little invention of my own.”

“To scare mice? Demonstrate it.”

Only three examiners, including the chief, seemed interested in the bamboo contraption, which looked like a lattice of tubes.

“Yes, sir.” Wang Ge had already loaded clay marbles into the twin vertical tubes, each serving as a channel for the balls. Gripping the lower row with her left hand, she aimed at an open patch of ground and pushed the twin pistons with her right.

Two sharp reports—bang!—rang out almost simultaneously. The clay balls shot out, striking the ground and leaving two small pits.

The examiners...

“Ahem… Candidate, please demonstrate again.”

By the next day, the “mouse popper” had been presented to Magistrate Huan.

After trying it several times, the magistrate remarked, “The principle behind this is not complex; the challenge is who first thought to apply it. Record this candidate’s invention. As long as her other works are at least of moderate quality, she should be accepted as an apprentice artisan.”

The scribe, a subordinate appointed after Magistrate Huan took office, smiled meaningfully and added, “This candidate is a young girl named Wang Ge, from Jiashe Village in Buzhi Township.”

“Jiashe Village, Wang Ge? Is she the one Ah Zhen secretly recruited a middle-ranking master for, cheating during registration?”

“Yes,” the scribe quickly replied. “The master in question has already been sent away from our county. The chief examiner at this test is now called Zheng—there’s no issue.”

“All I seek is fairness and justice in the examination! I won’t allow someone of inadequate skill to sneak in because of Ah Zhen, nor will I let a gifted artisan be buried in obscurity due to her connection to Ah Zhen.”

“Yes, I’ll inform Examiner Zheng at once.”

“Wait!” The magistrate leaned on his armrest, brows slightly furrowed, and mused, “If Wang Ge knew the new rules required three rounds, why did she present such an ingenious device in the first? Could it be… hmm. Tell Examiner Zheng to hint that he intends to eliminate her. I want to see if she can craft something even more remarkable.”

“Understood, I’ll go at once.”

The magistrate played with the device a few more times, a rare smile lighting his features. “Mouse popper is far too crude a name. With its push and bang, let it be called… the Popper Tube.”