Chapter 48: The Hypocritically Generous Landlord Jia

Jia Matriarch had always prided herself on decades of “getting by—good enough to eat” cooking skills, but now, even when she poured the pork fat into the cauldron, it stuck to the bottom! No matter how she stirred, it wouldn’t budge.

“Cough, cough, cough…” Choked out of the kitchen, she was heartbroken; what was burnt wasn’t just pork fat—it was money! “Tiger Treasure, who taught you to cook cracklings this way? Isn’t this just ruining things?”

“Grandmother, I… I figured it out myself.”

Now, her eldest granddaughter was, in Jia Matriarch’s heart, nothing but a string of coins capable of making money. You couldn’t beat a money string. So she asked again, “Who bought the pork fat?”

The whole family turned to Wang Erlang.

“Never again!” Wang Erlang squatted right where he stood, hugging his head. From now on, he’d rather swallow pig bristles raw than trust that conniving, boastful, thick-skinned niece again!

Wang Zhu was alone in her room, pressed against the window. The laughter drifting in from outside was painfully sharp. Did no one notice the absence of a family member? Was everyone so happy now that her mother had been driven away, as if it were New Year’s? They were all cooking pork fat, celebrating. And Wang Ge, that shameless cousin, laughed as usual—but even Second Uncle joined in the ruckus. Was Second Uncle only kin to First Uncle’s branch, not to her father? First Uncle was blind, but was Second Uncle blind too? Could he not see her father’s sorrow these days?

Wang Zhu didn’t want to look or hear them anymore. She returned to her bed, hunched over, letting tears fall one by one onto her knees. If only things could return to a few days ago—if she hadn’t harbored ill intentions, hadn’t caught that mouse, hadn’t bound the oil-soaked hemp rope, then her mother would still be here. “Mother… I was wrong. I want you to come back…”

The next day.

“Here they come, here they come.” Wang Elder and Wang Ge stepped out to greet the visitors.

As promised yesterday, tenants from Jia Landlord’s estate arrived early, delivering ten segments of saw-cut bamboo, all over a year old and thoroughly soaked overnight, still dripping wet.

Shade-grown bamboo doesn’t grow evenly at every joint; only the middle two or three sections reach the required length for bamboo samples. Depending on thickness, each section yields twenty to twenty-five bamboo strips, slightly wider than the sample. Each strip, once the outer green is scraped off, produces three layers of strips, right next to the skin. In total, this load could yield six hundred to seven hundred strips—if nothing is wasted and no mistakes are made.

Thus, during unloading, Wang Ge inspected every piece for cracks, dents, or insect damage.

After passing inspection, the tenants left two hundred coins as deposit. The tenants relayed what the landlord hadn’t said yesterday: “Master Jia said these bamboos must produce five hundred strips matching the samples. The rest you may use yourself. If fewer than five hundred are made, you must supply bamboo from your own stock to make up the difference.”

Wang Elder thanked them, “Please thank Master Jia for us.”

After they left, Wang Ge hesitated, then told his grandfather, “Master Jia isn’t acting in good faith.”

“What? Did he trick us?”

“Not a trick, but deliberately making things difficult. For ordinary craftsmen, ten segments would barely yield three hundred strips like the samples. He claims we can keep the leftover material, sounding generous…” Wang Ge noticed his younger brother and Wang Peng approaching, so he hurried to finish, “Shade-grown bamboo, deprived of sunlight, only has a usable first layer—the rest is nearly waste.”

The craft of bamboo weaving has too many secrets! Wang Elder grew angrier as he listened, regretting having thanked them earlier. “Despicable! If he meant to make things hard, why come to us?”

“That’s why I say he’s not generous. Don’t be upset, Grandfather, and rest assured—I’ll do the job well and won’t offend him. Soon, I’ll be preparing for my craftsman’s exam. If he comes to us again, we’ll use that as an excuse to refuse.”

These two didn’t know that Master Jia himself was also frustrated.

After the township magistrate carted away several loads of bamboo baskets from the village, Jia Feng ordered a clan brother to investigate their purpose.

But it wasn’t easy to find out. Jia Feng waited days with no news, only learning that the baskets were bought from the Wang family in the north of the village, and that the top woodworker in the county this year was the youngest daughter of the Wang household.

Given this, Jia Feng no longer waited for his clan brother. The Jia family had just taken a commission from Qinghe Manor and needed bamboo weavers. He had his tenant’s son, Jia Sanyang, lead the way to form a good relationship with the Wang family.

But when Jia Feng returned home that evening, his clan brother happened to return as well, reporting that the baskets had simply been bought by a traveling merchant, outdoing the local merchants in wealth, and had rented a riverside fleet to haul them out of town, coincidentally sharing the route with the magistrate.

So the Wang family in the north of the village had no connection with the magistrate or officials!

Given this, Jia Feng felt he had unnecessarily lowered himself by personally visiting a humble household. The more he considered, the more annoyed he became.

At the Wang family’s gate, Wang Peng and Wang Xing examined the bamboo. Wang Ge and his grandfather carefully carried the segments into the secondary hall, wiser from experience, never putting them in the storage shed again. The last segment was left on a straw mat in the courtyard.

Wang Dalang sat in one corner of the mat, weaving a bamboo sieve and watching over Wang Ai, keeping her from running off. His hands were wrapped in cloth, palms and fingers covered in cuts from the sharp bamboo strips. Now he truly appreciated Tiger Treasure’s effort—those thin bamboo strips were so razor-sharp.

When finished, Wang Elder put away the two hundred coins in the main house, still brooding over Jia Landlord’s false generosity, sighing in frustration.

Wang Ge gathered all her tools, stood the bamboo upright in the yard. This segment was thicker; she used a homemade bamboo ruler and charcoal pencil to mark the required width at the top (always slightly wider than the sample). Once marked, she could split it into twenty-two strips.

The bamboo knife had been sharpened last night, so she got right to work.

Crack, crack…

The sound of splitting bamboo made Wang Elder tense. Tiger Treasure truly lived up to her name—his granddaughter was fierce at work. If it were him, he’d have to mark carefully several times and hesitate before making the first cut.

The bamboo knife didn’t split all at once. She first halved the tube, then sat cross-legged on the mat, cradling one half, and began splitting along each marked line, slicing all the way through. Only after she’d made twenty-two strips did she notice her grandfather sitting opposite, sighing softly.

“Grandfather?”

“Hm? Oh… I was thinking, rather than wait and risk running out of bamboo, we should prepare in advance.”

“Grandfather, I just realized I forgot to bring my tool stool.”

“I’ll fetch it.” Wang Elder, distracted, went to the storage shed.

Wang Ge knew what was troubling him, so she set to work.

She picked up a bamboo strip and began preparing the slices. She separated the first layer of green bamboo, removed the outer skin, and divided it into three layers—each already very thin.

Once the stool was brought over, she fixed the sizing knife in place, set it at two-fifths spacing.

She laid the green bamboo flat, positioned it just past the sizing knife, clamped the remainder with a homemade bamboo tweezer, keeping it parallel to the stool’s surface.

With her right hand, she gripped the bamboo’s tip on the other side of the sizing knife and gave it a steady pull!

The width was perfect!

This step was like pulling a bamboo strip through a narrow gate, stripping away the excess, which is why it was called “passing through Sword Gate.”

Wang Elder and Wang Xing had seen this many times and were unfazed, but Wang Peng, watching for the first time, was wide-eyed—his cousin was truly skilled! How could such soft bamboo strips obey her so?

After passing through Sword Gate, came the scraping knife.

The scraping knife, bought from Merchant Feng, wasn’t the type fixed to the stool. It was simply an iron blade, with both round and flat edges, its handle wrapped in hemp twine.

Now came the moment that made Wang Peng even more awed by his cousin’s skill!