Chapter 21: Crafting the Syringe

The rain was coming down harder and harder. Wang Ge sat atop a pile of cattail grass, beginning to craft the first item for this exam: a pump tube—essentially a firefighting water gun.

The simplest pump tube worked on the same principle as a syringe: an outer casing, and an inner rod that could be pulled. By binding some reed fluff to the rod for resistance and moving it back and forth, water could be drawn into the tube, and then pushed out when the rod was depressed.

Wang Ge quickly finished the makeshift pump tube and, surrounded by puddles, played with it a few times in delight. Next, she set out to replicate what she had once seen in the Palace Museum in her previous life: a bronze “fire lance pump,” but fashioned from bamboo—a bamboo firefighting water gun. The principle was the same as the simple version, both utilizing atmospheric pressure differences to draw water.

This lance-type pump, when used, required a water vat. The pump would be placed vertically in the vat; by pulling the rod, water would enter the inner chamber from the bottom, and then, as the rod was pushed down, the water, forced by pressure, would be sprayed from the top—capable of extinguishing fires up to about nine zhang high (with one zhang at this time being roughly 2.42 meters).

Unfortunately, the puddles nearby were too shallow to test it. Once finished, she set it aside.

Wang Ge now earnestly began work on the second item: a rain cape, also called a “bo yi,” which centuries later would be known as the “suo yi.”

Though Examiner Zheng had encouraged her to create more ingenious devices, what if he was merely speaking casually, or even trying to mislead her?

The Jin Dynasty was nothing like the world she had known before. In her previous life, people lived in abundance, production techniques were advanced, and the skills and crafts that artisans like her took pride in had been replaced by assembly lines and cheap materials, leaving traditional crafts with no place and gradually severing their inheritance.

In the present Jin, production techniques were monopolized by the court and the elite, and common people, desperate for everyday items and farming tools, could only make them themselves.

In her previous life, there were even fewer artisans making rain capes than basket-weavers! Wang Nanxing had once traveled to the Yimeng Mountains just to learn from an unassuming elderly craftsman. The first rain cape she made on her own took half a month of hard work. When she posted it online, she received a flood of admiration and likes, but not a single inquiry about its purchase—not even a question about the price.

With materials in abundance, she chose to make this rain cape from a combination of thatch and reed stalks.

The first step was the collar. Wang Ge tied a hemp rope between two bamboo poles propping up the oilcloth shelter, then knotted tufts of grass one by one along the rope. Each time she added a new tuft, she threaded it under the rope and flipped it upward. After each knot, she pressed and tightened it, ensuring the collar’s fastenings were compact and neat.

The second step was adding the main body—the bulk of the cape. This required nearly a thousand fastenings, which had to form uniform rows and columns. Anyone lacking skill would need at least ten days to half a month to complete it.

The summer rain fell persistently for two days.

In the afternoon, the rain stopped and the resplendent sun leapt from behind the clouds, casting a rainbow across the eastern sky.

Bang!

The ceremonial drum was struck right on cue; the examiners arrived just as the rain ended. As Wang Ge expected, Examiner Zheng took both pump tubes.

“A water-spraying tube?” Magistrate Huan thought the simple version looked like the “pipatong” used for shooting clay pellets—why hadn’t it occurred to him that it could be used to spray water?

He then examined the long-handled pump, instructing his clerk to use it as Wang Ge had described: placing the bottom of the tube into a water vat, vertical.

The clerk held the tube steady while Magistrate Huan personally pulled the rod.

Whoosh!

The water shot at least eight zhang away!

The two men were stunned.

Huan Zhen’s voice sounded from behind, “Uncle, what is this thing?”

Magistrate Huan, seeing his nephew with a stack of bamboo slips, asked first, “Did you write everything down?”

“Yes.”

“This is a water-spraying tube.”

“I thought it was for firefighting.”

Magistrate Huan and the clerk exchanged a look, their minds suddenly expanding into a new realm. Indeed, what use was it to spray water far and high—just for water fights? But as a firefighting tool, it was something else entirely!

“Yes, it is for putting out fires,” Magistrate Huan replied with a smile.

The clerk took the bamboo slips and bid farewell.

Magistrate Huan asked, “How is Shizhi’s injury healing?”

“Thanks to your leniency, Uncle, he’s recovered well.”

“Hm. Is he planning to run off again?”

“He doesn’t dare.”

“Hah!”

“Nor do I.”

“That’s for the best! This time, the trouble you caused was, to put it bluntly, a violation of national law! Fortunately, you’re both still young—otherwise, twenty strokes wouldn’t be the end of it.”

“But the brute from Jiangcheng deserved to die!”

“There are many in this world who ‘deserve to die’! If everyone took up a blade and killed at will, what then? Who can know whether you harbor a demon in your heart? Who is to judge whether you have abused public power for private ends?”

Huan Zhen pressed his lips together and said nothing.

“I know you think your uncle meddles too much. In a few days, your father’s letter should arrive. When it does, if you want to stay here, I won’t keep you!”

“What about Wang Tian? I wish to see him.”

Magistrate Huan ignored him, picking up the small pump tube and pulling water in and out, again and again.

“Uncle.”

Still, Magistrate Huan gave no reply.

“Uncle, I was wrong.” Huan Zhen bowed respectfully.

Magistrate Huan gave a soft “hmm.”

“I’d like to play with the little water-spraying tube, too.”

“You may choose one: the pump tube, or seeing Wang Tian.”

“I’ll... take the pump tube, then.”

At Qinghe Village, Wang Tian was thrown into a carriage by a group of burly retainers and whisked away at full speed.

“Stop! I want to see my cousin Huan! Let me see him once before you take me away!” Wang Tian shouted so loudly his voice broke. Judging by the fierce retainers his father had sent, he was certain to face disaster upon returning to Shanyin County (the seat of Kuaiji Commandery).

Alas, if only he knew that Huan Zhen had given up seeing him just for a pump tube—what would he feel then?

On the seventeenth of May, the final round of the craftsman apprentice competition in Duoyi County was underway. This time, there were 165 participants, with only 100 to be selected as this year’s apprentices.

Wang Ge’s only remaining complete material was cattail grass.

Time, then, to weave a cattail mat. Given Examiner Zheng’s fondness for ingenious devices, she first used leftover bamboo scraps to craft some outer tubes for fire strikers.

In her previous life, fire strikers had only appeared in the late Northern Qi during the Northern and Southern Dynasties, utilizing the principle of physical re-ignition. Once you understood this, making either the tinder inside or the oxygen-deprived outer tube was simple enough.

But in this altered Jin Dynasty, with even pumpkins appearing ahead of their time, could fire strikers have appeared early as well?

Examiner Zheng approached, watching Wang Ge’s mat-weaving technique and silently admiring her superb craftsmanship.

What a shame, though, that the new magistrate favored ingenious devices, forcing him, the chief examiner, to bend the truth: “Is this round’s submission… just a cattail mat?”

Wang Ge, appearing nervous, replied, “I’ve run out of material—there’s only enough for one mat.”

Examiner Zheng felt relieved: Magistrate, it’s not that I didn’t intimidate her, but she simply ran out of material.

“Very well. Then weave the mat properly.”

“Yes, sir.”

To make up for having frightened her in the previous rounds, Examiner Zheng kindly advised, “Keep your area tidy, and gather up any leftover materials.”

Wang Ge picked up the fire striker tubes, embarrassed. “My family is poor, so I used scraps to make some fire striker tubes.”

“That’s fine, that’s fine. Any item you make can be kept after the exam… Wait! What did you say—fire striker tubes?”