Chapter 28: The Medicine Spraying Cabinet

It all began a quarter of an hour earlier, when the scribe brought over Master Zheng, the senior craftsman, presenting a wooden tablet with a detailed diagram of the newly designed "pesticide spraying cabinet." This device was intended for spraying agricultural pesticides, aiming to reduce crop diseases and pests.

The county magistrate of Huan studied the diagram, and the image of the real apparatus already took shape in his mind. He asked, "Master Zheng, is this based on the same principle as the fire-extinguishing water cylinder?"

"It is," Zheng replied, explaining the diagram point by point. "The vertical cylinder has been altered to a fixed horizontal one, and thickened. The rectangular cabinet stores the insecticide made from wild herbs and fish mint. Four intake pipes connect the water cabinet to the horizontal cylinder, each wide at the base and narrow at the tip. There’s an inlet on the cabinet with a cover. The plunger uses thick felt for sealing. Another change is the spray nozzle, now designed like a lotus seedpod."

The magistrate was no stranger to agricultural matters. He knew that spraying through a lotus-seedpod nozzle allowed the pesticide to cover the plants more evenly than a ladle, greatly reducing the amount needed.

The scribe reported, "The actual device has already been built, and it's in the courtyard. Would you care to take a look, my lord?"

The magistrate understood that if the scribe suggested it, they must have already tested it. "Very well. If this benefits agriculture, let’s see it at once!" He couldn’t rest easy until he saw it with his own eyes.

Had Wang Ge been present to see the rectangular spraying cabinet on the flatbed cart in the yard, she would certainly have given Master Zheng a thumbs up: such talent!

Wasn’t this the very "fierce fire oil cabinet" recorded in the military classics of her previous life? In the Song dynasty, the cabinet was made entirely of copper and stored flamethrower oil. Using the horizontal cylinder and a firing mechanism, it unleashed a scorching dragon of flame, inflicting heavy casualties on the enemy.

At the scribe’s command, two clerks steadied the cabinet and cart, while another pulled out the piston rod of the horizontal cylinder and then pushed it back with all his strength.

In an instant, the lotus-shaped nozzle at the front of the cylinder sprayed a fine mist of water, shooting straight for twenty feet!

The clerk repeated the motion more slowly, and this time the spray covered every distance from ten to thirty feet!

Under the bright sun, the drifting, shimmering mist caught the light, creating a half-arc rainbow.

The magistrate’s spirits soared, and he exclaimed “Excellent!” three times in succession.

"Master Zheng, your efforts are well rewarded. I will write at once to select a master carpenter from the Huan clan to be your sponsor."

Zheng was overjoyed! He had been stuck at his current rank for seven years, his skills more than sufficient, but to be evaluated for master craftsman, he needed recommendations from both the county elders and a master of his own craft. The county elders were always eager to promote local talent, but a true master was rare. By imperial decree, a master craftsman could recommend someone only three times in a lifetime, and would hardly waste such an opportunity on an outsider.

On the winding path of Jia She Village, the slanting rays of sunset lit up farmers returning home. Madam Yao, recalling something Mrs. Sun had asked her recently, inquired, "Aunt, Ge will be eleven after the new year. Isn’t it time to consider her first match?"

Old Madam Jia replied, "After the new year? There’s half a year to go. What’s the rush?"

"Why would I be in a hurry?" she muttered, "I’m not an outsider." Seeing her aunt didn’t scold her, she continued, "I’m her aunt. If the neighbors ask, I should at least know what you intend, so I can either refuse or agree to arrange a meeting. If I keep saying I don’t know, they’ll think I neglect my niece."

That made sense. Old Madam Jia said, "It pleases me that you care for Ge. If anyone does ask you or Old Jia, just tell them her grandparents want to keep her for another two years."

"Keep her for two more years? Girls shouldn’t be kept at home so long!" the younger Jia protested.

"How old were you when you met Erlang?" Old Madam Jia asked sternly.

"Ten—no, fourteen," she admitted, crestfallen. She had been plain-featured, and back then, had taken a fancy only to the most handsome lad in the village, which had delayed her own matchmaking.

Madam Yao, who had a favor to ask of Mrs. Sun, tried to probe indirectly, "Actually, it’s just that I often see Ge playing with Zhang Cai, and I thought…"

"Has anyone been gossiping?"

"No, no!"

"Good. You’re right to remind me. We’ve watched that Zhang boy grow up, and it’s easy to forget he’s not a child anymore. I’ll have a word with Ge—she should spend less time with Zhang Cai from now on."

Ruined! Madam Yao clicked her tongue, but then secretly rejoiced: she’d already raised Mrs. Sun’s request, and if Ge really were promised to Zhang Cai, what a stroke of luck for that little brat!

After supper, Ge called Shu in to help tidy up the stove. Shu, scraping the dried porridge from the pot with a bamboo brush, said, "On the way back today, I heard someone nearly drowned in the creek again."

"That’s how rivers are. They look calm, but there could be hidden whirlpools beneath. It’s fine to play on the bank, but never go in the water!"

"You’re right, cousin. But I get dizzy just looking at water—can’t even go near the well," she admitted, sticking out her tongue. "I’d never go near that river."

Ge smiled, "Shu, stop scrubbing and come here." She pulled out a hexagonal bamboo fan she’d woven that afternoon from the corner by the grain jar. Only the center and a bit of the pattern had been started; long green bamboo strips hung loosely around, seemingly in chaos.

The light was still good, and the two girls squatted by the jar, one teaching patiently, the other listening intently.

Shu was not as clever as Zhang Cang, but she was obedient and eager to learn.

"The fan’s pattern depends on how you press and lift the threads. Watch, it goes like this…" As Ge was explaining, the younger Madam Jia stormed in.

She yanked Shu up, snatched the "junk" fan, and tossed it by the stove, all the while storming out and cursing, "You sly little thing! Pretending to be so innocent, but always scheming! Full of rotten tricks—just wait till I catch you!"

"Mother, what are you doing? Why are you calling me such awful names?" Shu nearly fell, bewildered by her mother’s outburst, and was dragged back to her room without understanding a thing.

Ge picked up the fan core; some bamboo strips had fallen into the fire and were ruined. She blew the ash off the undamaged ones, shook her head, and murmured, "Look at you, all clean and neat, but you just had to get close to the fire—almost got a big ugly scar."

Inside, Shu sobbed with hurt. After her outburst, Madam Jia began to resent her daughter’s slowness—she just wasn’t like her at all, and couldn’t even tell who she’d been scolding. "Enough, stop crying. Tomorrow, if someone goes to town, I’ll ask them to buy you and your brother some sweets."

Shu turned away. This was her mother’s way of apologizing, but she didn’t care for sweets. All she wanted was to know why her mother had cursed her so harshly in front of her cousin, making her lose face.

He, Ge’s younger brother, curled his lip, which was immediately spotted by Madam Jia.

"What’s that face for?" she teased, doting on her son. Even when he made faces, she was never angry. She playfully poked his forehead, "Don’t believe me? This time I mean it—you’ll both get sweets."

Soon, a panicked scream came from the side room.

Madam Yao, always eager for drama, rushed from the east wing, "What’s wrong, what’s wrong?"

Madam Jia burst out, wailing, "Heaven help me! Erlang, if you don’t explain yourself today, I’ll... I’ll throw myself down the well!"

Madam Jia made a scene all the way down the lane, but kept her wits—no matter how neighbors or relatives questioned her, she wouldn’t say why she was crying.

Erlang, driven out by his mother, angrily stamped his foot, tossed a pouch with a hundred and twenty coins to He, and hurried after his wife.

Shu was terrified. Ge stood in the courtyard, puzzled.

He, not wanting their cousin to witness more family strife, tugged Shu back inside and grumbled, "It’s all because of money!"

"Brother, what’s going on? What were you and Mother whispering about just now?"