Chapter 47 The Landlord Arrives

Wang Erlang darted away, clutching the bamboo spatula with both hands. “It’s my fault, it’s my fault! Mother, don’t hit me. Oh no, it’s crumbling!” He tilted his wide mouth, eager to eat the thick, charred edge of the spatula clean.

“Get out of the way!” The sight of her son’s lack of ambition amused Jia Matron.

Just then, someone arrived outside. “Is this the house of Wang the craftsman’s child?”

Jia Matron quickly hid the bamboo spatula behind her back. The family looked over, and the newcomer was a man in his forties, of average appearance and slender build, wearing a cloth jacket and straw sandals. Behind him followed a little boy, about the same size as Wang Zhu, carrying a basket and sporting a skyward braid.

Wang Erlang found this gentleman somewhat familiar, but couldn’t recall where he’d seen him before.

At that moment, Wang Ge stepped forward with a bright smile. “It’s Ah Yang! Please, come in. Uncle is…”

The boy with the basket was none other than Jia Sanyang, who often tended sheep at Shou Shi Slope.

“Ge Sister, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you,” Jia Sanyang replied, then looked up to inform the older gentleman, “Jia Uncle, this is Wang the craftsman’s child.”

Wang Elder quickly strode out from his room.

The elder Jia nodded slightly to Wang Ge, entered the courtyard, surveyed the scene without any concern for the burnt smell filling the yard, and then bowed to Wang Elder and Jia Matron, speaking gently, “Old sir, madam, I am Jia Feng, eldest son of the Jia family from the east side of the village.”

The east side? There’s only one household there! The big family!

Wang Elder immediately understood, “So you’re from the Jia estate… Ah, please, come in, come in.” Thankfully, he didn’t blurt out “Jia Landlord.”

“Hurry, Ge, lay out the mats.” With the landlord visiting, Wang Elder was both careful and anxious.

In farming households, to save trouble or reduce wear, they usually only lay mats, adding seats for guests. With his father so particular, how could Wang Ge not guess “Jia Feng’s” status?

Wang Elder glanced at Erlang, who misunderstood and dragged his mother into the nearby east wing.

Wang Ge briskly brought out the straw mat and laid it in the courtyard. Wang He, sharper than his father, quickly ran into the storeroom. Wang Xing was struggling with the bamboo seat; Wang He snatched it from behind, complaining, “Millet grain! Get out of the way! Or I’ll sweep you aside.”

“Ha, millet grain!” Jia Sanyang teased Wang Xing from the doorway.

Once the mats were set, Wang Elder, as the senior, sat at the head. Wang Ge poured two bowls of water infused with wolfberry flowers, and Jia Feng stopped her. “Wang the craftsman’s child, sit down.”

Wang Ge looked to her grandfather, who said, “Sit,” so she knelt at his left rear. Jia Sanyang, not daring to peer into the storeroom’s bustle anymore, quickly unloaded his big basket and knelt at Jia Feng’s right rear.

As evening approached, Jia Feng stated his purpose directly. “Sir, I’ve come for a matter, hoping Wang the craftsman’s child can assist.”

He took two vertical bundles wrapped in kudzu cloth from the basket, opened one to reveal a long wooden box, untied the hemp rope binding it, and inside, thick cloth padding surrounded three bamboo strips.

He pushed the box forward. “These are bamboo samples. Please, sir and Wang the craftsman’s child, examine them closely.”

Wang Elder, unfamiliar with bamboo weaving, couldn’t tell much. He moved the box to Wang Ge.

Wang Ge first observed: the three bamboo strips were identical, thin as a blade, precisely two fen wide, supple without needing to touch. Preserved in the wooden box with plenty of soft padding—not because the material is precious, but to ensure the samples remain unscathed, so future weavers can match them exactly.

After looking, she examined closer. She picked up one strip, holding it to the light, inspecting both ways. The bamboo gleamed, slick and glossy, yellow tinged with green, with natural grain. It quivered lightly in her breath, showing its lightness. She carefully replaced it, then examined the other two in turn.

Jia Feng waited until she finished. “Wang the craftsman’s child, you must know Qinghe Manor?”

“Yes. The carpenters’ examination site is just outside Qinghe Manor.”

“Qinghe Manor has been purchasing bamboo strips like these since early this month, requiring precise width, length, and thickness. To be frank, I have bamboo weavers at home, but to match all strips to this sample’s level, one person can’t make many in a day. If you can craft them, I’m willing to pay two coins for each strip. What do you think?”

Two coins? That’s the price of a rolling lantern! Wang Elder’s upper body almost leapt with excitement; he nearly agreed outright. “Ge, what do you think? Can you make them?”

Wang Ge nodded. “I can.”

So quick to promise? Jia Feng frowned slightly.

Wang Ge closed the wooden box and explained in detail. “All three bamboo samples are made from ‘Cizhu’ bamboo, over a year old but under two. The length is greater than the bamboo nodes my uncle harvests from the wild mountains; they must have grown in shady spots. Examining grain and color, I can tell the three strips were cut from different positions, but each is the outermost layer next to the bamboo skin. So… Qinghe Manor’s requirement is that any of the first three outer blue layers are acceptable?”

“A remarkable craftsman!” Jia Feng praised sincerely. Generally, the longest ‘Cizhu’ bamboo node is just over two feet, rarely two and a half. Since bamboo loves sun, only those grown in shade compete for length.

Jia Feng had withheld one detail: Qinghe Manor’s purchase of blue bamboo is graded. The three samples in the box are third-grade. His own weavers can’t make first or second grade; fourth grade is easy, but he’d pay only one coin for two strips. Since Wang the craftsman’s child took the third grade, there was no need to show the other box.

Praised, Wang Ge blushed, then pleaded, “Jia Uncle, you know most bamboo grows in sunny spots. If my uncle goes alone into wild, shady places to find ‘Cizhu,’ it’s too dangerous. Your family surely isn’t short of bamboo. How about sharing some with me? I’ll lower the price to one coin per strip. What do you say?”

Jia Feng looked to Wang Elder. “I have no objection.” But could a young girl decide?

Wang Elder nodded. “Let it be so.”

They agreed: tomorrow morning, Jia’s tenant would deliver bamboo, and thereafter, every five days the same tenant would collect the goods. As he left, Jia Feng reminded them, “This is a long-term business. Please don’t sacrifice quality for speed.”

He left the wooden box behind. When Jia the landlord had gone, Wang Elder reopened it, mimicking his granddaughter by holding a bamboo strip to the light.

“Tsk, tsk.” The old man saw nothing special—he thought it wasn’t worth treasuring, and not as fine as the strips Ge had woven recently.

Jia Matron emerged from the east wing with her two promising sons, delighted that business had landed at their doorstep. She immediately asked Wang Ge about the method for cooking oil dregs, planning to reward her granddaughter’s greedy nature by cooking herself.

Outside the kitchen, Wang Elder was pleased, refraining from scolding his sons and telling them, along with Erlang’s new wife and all the youngsters, about Jia Feng’s status, lest they behave improperly next time.

Though everyone in the village knew the Jia landlord, few had ever met them. All they knew was that the east side was rich farmland, all owned by the Jia family. Jia Grandfather had fled here during the chaos of the previous dynasty, long before Wang Elder arrived.

Jia Grandfather had seven sons and two daughters; his descendants branched like a flourishing tree, impossible for outsiders to untangle. His eldest son had died years ago, and now the main line was headed by his eldest grandson, Jia Feng. Since Jia Feng had children, he’d established his own household according to the Household Division Decree. So the “Eldest Jia” villagers sometimes mentioned was actually Jia Grandfather’s eldest grandson.

Wang Elder finished recounting, and the burnt smell from the kitchen wafted out once more.