Chapter 5: The Path of the Artisan

Zhang Jiying and his companions were originally headed straight out of Jia She Village, but upon hearing the recent antiphonal singing, they changed direction.

Since breaking the shackles within his heart, Zhang Jiying now saw mountains as mountains, waters as waters; his entire demeanor exuded vitality, and he looked much younger. Seeing the peculiar stones here, each with its own form and color, as numerous as stars, he became interested and began rummaging through the rocks.

Meanwhile, Huan Zhen and the retinue watered and washed the horses.

“Sir, there’s nothing pretty left over there,” A-Heng called out in his childish voice, waving his little hand at Zhang Jiying.

Zhang Jiying let out a light “Oh?” and recognizing the siblings, came over with a cheerful smile.

“Sir,” Wang Ge greeted him confidently with a customary salute, then opened her palm to show off the stone she'd just picked up. “The ones with patterns are the best-looking. No matter how nice the colors are, the riverbank is full of them.”

Zhang Jiying gave her an approving glance, picked up the stone, and saw that a natural mistiness adorned its surface, its lines resembling a deer in mid-gallop. “Excellent!”

“If you like it, Sir, please take it as a gift.”

“No, no, I cannot accept a reward without merit.”

“It’s only a deer-shaped stone. If I caught a real deer, I wouldn’t part with it so easily.”

“Haha! You’re a forthright little girl.” Zhang Jiying wagged his finger in mock reproach, then explained, “The ‘reward without merit’—the ‘lu’ in that phrase—refers to salary or benefit, not a living deer running through the mountains. Though pronounced the same, they are different characters. So the proverb means I cannot accept a benefit from others without having earned it.”

“Then, Sir, why not teach my brother and me how to write this phrase? That way, we’ll have done something to earn the reward.” Wang Ge smiled sweetly and bowed once more.

Wang Heng let out a surprised “Oh!” His sister was so clever! Could that really work? He hastily bowed, hands clasped: “Sir, please let us earn our reward!”

Zhang Jiying… What sort of trick was this? Fingering the stone, he had the distinct feeling he’d been ensnared from the moment the child beckoned him over.

Meanwhile, Huan Zhen finished cleaning his mount and noticed his teacher deep in conversation with the two village children. The little girl sat primly, holding a wooden slip, while the teacher wrote something upon it.

Handing his horse to a retainer, Huan Zhen walked over alone.

He saw the teacher, using a traveling brush from his satchel, write the five clerical-script characters for “No reward without merit,” then, in the lower left corner of the slip, draw two figures—one offering a gift, the other declining.

Huan Zhen was astonished! His teacher, a renowned scholar from Wu County, rarely left his calligraphy outside, and here he was, leaving words and a drawing for two village children?

He had guessed right. Zhang Jiying set down his brush, beckoned the siblings to sit, placed the wooden slip between them, and explained the origin of the proverb, placing the deer stone to one side to clarify the difference between “reward” and “deer.”

Wang Ge, smiling, listened as she snapped a few wild grasses beside her knee, weaving and knotting them with nimble fingers.

Huan Zhen knelt beside her, gradually drawn in by her skillful weaving. The little girl barely looked as she worked!

After finishing his explanation, Zhang Jiying asked Wang Heng, “Repeat what I’ve just taught. Say as much as you remember.”

“Yes, Sir.” Wang Heng bowed several times, then recited. The more Zhang Jiying listened, the more delighted he became—the siblings were truly bright! The boy repeated nearly everything he’d said, word for word.

By then, Wang Ge had finished weaving a small “cauldron.” She placed the deer stone atop the grass cauldron and said, “Sir, I now understand the difference between a mountain deer and a reward.”

“A teachable child. Is this a cauldron you’ve made? Why place the deer stone on it?”

“A cauldron is for cooking. Isn’t there a saying, ‘cooking the deer’?”

“Cooking the deer?”

Seeing their puzzled expressions, she whispered, “To cook the deer—does that phrase carry a taboo? Did I say something wrong?” She covered her mouth in fright.

Zhang Jiying’s mouth seemed to twitch; Huan Zhen’s gaze slid to the woven cauldron. After a moment, the former quietly instructed, “Bring me three more wooden slips.”

“Yes, Sir.” Huan Zhen stood, turning away to hide his laughter.

Cooking the deer indeed! She understood the word for “deer,” but confused “cooking” with “pursuing”!

Finding Wang Ge’s hands dirty, Zhang Jiying had Wang Heng hold the slips for him to write. After writing the character for “cauldron,” he paused and asked Wang Ge, “You’re quite adept at weaving—why not pursue this further and try for a craftsman’s rank?”

“Sir, do you mean craftsmen can take special examinations, just like scholars?” Wang Ge sensed that what came next concerned her future.

Zhang Jiying shot a disapproving glance at Huan Zhen.

Huan Zhen understood. “In the second year of Emperor Cheng’s reign, an edict established the craftsman exam. Artisans of all kinds can earn ranks through examination. Even the lowest, apprentice level, grants tax and labor reductions.”

“May I ask, Sir, can women take the exam? How and where would one do so?”

“No restrictions on men or women, young or old. As long as your skills suffice, you can take the test. There are exam halls from local to county, prefecture, and province. Registration and format may vary by location—you can inquire with the local officials.”

“Thank you, Sir! Thank you, gentleman!” Wang Ge offered a sincere bow.

Zhang Jiying finished writing on the three slips. On the first, just two words: cauldron, cook! Accompanied by a drawing of a steaming cauldron—vivid and lifelike.

On the second, he wrote the character for “road,” annotating it in smaller clerical script: “A great way.”

The last slip bore no words, only an illustration: the teacher instructing two village children with wooden slips.

Once Wang Heng had memorized the characters for “cauldron” and “road,” and the slips had dried, Zhang Jiying paired and tied them with string. He instructed the siblings on how to care for the slips—air them out regularly, protect them from insects and damp.

As dusk approached, it was time to depart. Huan Zhen gave a slight nod, and the retainers, long prepared, led the horses over.

Wang Ge and Wang Heng knelt; unfamiliar with formal etiquette, they knew at least that kneeling was proper. She raised her face, looking at Zhang Jiying, and choked out, “My humble self, Wang Ge, and my younger brother Wang Heng, thank you, Sir, for your instruction!”

Wang Heng hugged the slips, tears streaming down his face, unable to speak through his sobs. The pure gratitude in the children’s hearts brought Zhang Jiying much comfort.

“Mountains are high and waters long—who is to say we will not meet again? Miss Wang, that ‘road’ character is for you. The path of the craftsman is also a great road!”

“Yes, Sir, I’ll remember! If I can make it in time for the exam, I will surely try!”

With cries of “Hyah!” the fine horses galloped away.

A-Heng, tear-streaked, kept waving until his arm grew sore, watching the kind gentleman disappear and feeling, in his small heart, the sadness of a farewell unlikely to be undone. He couldn’t help but cry out, “Teacher! A teacher for a day is a father for a lifetime! Don’t forget your son!”

Zhang Jiying nearly tumbled from his horse at that, and when he looked back, the siblings’ figures were already blurred.

Wang Ge gently patted A-Heng’s shoulder to comfort him. She hadn’t taught him those words; that was pure childish ingenuity. The siblings wrapped the wooden slips carefully in wild grass and put them in their basket, covering them with more grass for safekeeping.

Only then did Zhang Cai come running over, nervously asking, “Were those people asking for directions? Did they scare you? Don’t cry, A-Heng. Why did you call out ‘bran’ just now?”

Wang Ge, a little embarrassed, replied, “They were asking for directions, but I’ve never left the village and couldn’t explain well. A-Heng was just frightened. Don’t ask, Cai.”

“All right, I won’t. But I saw they carried swords—they must be retainers from a wealthy house. It scared me half to death.”

Wang Ge held her brother’s hand. Feeling the boy’s grip tighten, she knew he was chilled by Zhang Cai’s cowardice. She didn’t mind. In her past life, she’d seen just how cold the human heart could be. If Zhang Cai had met real trouble, he’d have run even faster.