Chapter 54: The Fortune of Wang Xing

"The tumbler... not bad," Huan Zhen and Tie Feng entered one after another, Tie Feng carrying a chest on his back.

Old Wang had little impression of Huan Zhen—first, that night’s lanterns were hazy; second, this youth appeared downcast daily, though his despondence was ever-changing. Today, caught and bound by Ren Suozhi, he was trussed up, his hair tied like the youngest daughter Wang Ai’s braid.

But Old Wang, like the peddler Feng, recognized Tie Feng; thus, Feng’s laughter ceased abruptly.

For a moment, those in the courtyard greeted "Master Tie," called "Brother Huan," or silently cursed their own misfortune; each face revealed its own drama.

Soon, Old Wang, displeased by the commotion, sent the children off to the secondary house.

Huan Zhen tapped the tumbler again and again, gradually sensing the principle within. Each time the tumbler fell, Feng the peddler’s body tensed.

Tie Feng cut straight to the point: "Old sir, how much is the tumbler?"

Feng the peddler protested, "I was negotiating first. To be honest, I’ve never bought such an expensive item—today is an exception. I’ll offer three hundred coins. If this gentleman bids higher, then I..."

Tie Feng said, "Three hundred and one coin."

Feng’s tone shifted, crisp and sharp: "Then I'll add nine coins."

Wang Ge and Grandfather exchanged glances... Frightening! They nearly agreed when the peddler first said "three hundred coins."

Tie Feng: "Three hundred and eleven coins."

Playing games! Feng's breathing grew noticeably rougher: "I'll add one more coin!"

Tie Feng: "Add eight coins."

Feng’s stray hairs floated with his anger: "Add one more!"

Tie Feng: "Add eight."

Old Wang nudged his granddaughter; Wang Ge understood and murmured to Grandfather, mosquito-like, "Three hundred twenty-nine now."

Huan Zhen’s hand paused as he tapped the tumbler. This girl, sharp with numbers!

Scoundrel! Feng the peddler pointed indignantly, gritting his teeth: "Last time! Add one more!"

Tie Feng, solemn, turned to Old Wang: "Old sir, I can only offer three hundred twenty-nine coins for the tumbler. If you sell it to me, I'll buy all these bamboo brushes at one coin each. What say you?"

Feng nearly toppled backward: "I meant to buy them all, too... one coin each!"

Tie Feng sighed heavily: "Very well, you win."

Soon after, Feng the peddler left Wang’s household loaded, Tie Feng enthusiastically helping stack thirty-nine bamboo brushes in the cart, covering them with straw mats and tying them with hemp rope.

The lunch boxes were still priced at seventy coins each; thus, this time, they earned a total of four hundred thirty-nine coins.

Once the peddler departed, Wang Ge immediately bowed to Huan Zhen and Tie Feng: "Thank you, Master Huan and Uncle Tie, for your help."

Old Wang now understood—the contest of wealth was Tie Feng’s way of helping his family, and it was clear that the boy with the skyward braid was Tie Feng’s master.

Old Wang hurriedly instructed Wang Ge to serve the guests goji water.

Wild goji flowers from the mountain could be used in both food and drink—a fine treat for visitors in a humble farming household. Wang Ge entered the kitchen, gazing at the bamboo brushes scattered on the stove, walls, and jars, shaking her head in frustration. She and Grandfather felt that even though Feng bought the brushes cheaply, he wouldn’t want so many. Why make trouble for themselves? They set aside ten for household use.

When she stepped out, Tie Feng stood at the courtyard gate; the chest, now unloaded, rested on the dining table. Something felt amiss.

Sure enough, Grandfather told her to bring out Father and Tiger Head.

Wang Ge, puzzled, went to the secondary house. Wang Peng and his sister were asleep. She whispered, helped Father out, and Wang Xing gently closed the door behind.

Huan Zhen had already bowed to Old Wang; now he bowed to Wang Dalang. The youth, before bowing, was casual; during the ceremony, he appeared gentle and steadfast—his dirty official robes and childish braid could not hide his noble bearing.

He opened the chest, revealing brushes, ink, inkstone, bamboo slips, and a knife.

Wang Dalang, unable to see, missed Father’s trembling excitement, Wang Ge’s sudden tears, and Tiger Head’s wide-eyed disbelief.

Huan Zhen smiled gently at Wang Xing, saying, "Do you remember, by the banks of Qing River, when you called out, 'A day as teacher, a lifetime as father'? Though the master never formally took you as a disciple, he sent instructions by letter, dispatched pen, ink, and bamboo slips across a thousand miles, and asked me to teach you. His words, 'as enduring as mountains and rivers,' were not spoken lightly."

As enduring as mountains and rivers—who can say if there will not be another meeting!

"Your name, little brother?"

"Wang Xing! Brother Huan, I am Wang Xing. Xing as in the water plant, but I can't write it yet."

"You will soon. I’ll remember you, Xing. Remember me as Huan Zhen—Zhen as in 'returning to truth.' Above all, remember the master’s surname is Zhang."

Soon, Huan Zhen and Tie Feng departed, promising to come every fifth day to teach Wang Xing, allowing Wang Ge to listen in, but not the others.

Others? Old Wang hardly cared. He gently closed the gate, prayed to heaven and earth, thanked the divine farmer and Emperor Yan, and then knelt, grateful that the ancestors—wherever their graves lay—had blessed the family with fortune.

The grandchildren and elders helped each other into the main house, closed the door tightly, and finally could not hold back their sobs.

Wang Xing was passed from arms to arms: first Grandfather held him, then Father embraced him, then Sister gripped his shoulders, eyes brimming with tears.

Fortunately, no one witnessed this scene, or they would have thought another calamity had struck the Wang family!

When the merchant wife returned in the evening and learned the news, she nearly fainted with joy. Only after a while did she remember to ask if the drunken immortal peddler had bought the goods.

"He did, even took the bamboo brushes. Here." Old Wang handed her the cloth bag; she untied the string, grinning so wide her teeth were showing. "Almost there—another five hundred coins and we can buy the ox."

"You mustn’t say that in front of Tiger Bao."

"Why?"

"The child is about to take the craftsman exam; we’ve agreed with Feng not to collect goods before the New Year."

"Right, the exam is important. Tomorrow I’ll tell the household steward, and make sure the warehouse manager doesn’t come by either."

"Agreed."

"Something else important happened today—you’d never guess."

"What is it?" Old Wang, uninterested, assumed it was village gossip.

"Granny Ge from the west side—her son Jia Huai drowned in May. She asked me, through someone, if we’d take Jia Huai’s widow into our family."

Old Wang frowned, then realized: "Third son just abandoned his wife—remarrying so soon isn’t proper, is it?"

"You think they want Third son? No—do you mean... Dalang?"

"Yes. I asked several times; they said the widow prefers Dalang, but with the condition that Granny Ge and her grandchildren are cared for."

"Well, that's a clever idea—one person, three mouths to feed."

"I’m not keen, but with Dalang’s situation, didn’t you say after he remarries, Ge shouldn’t have to marry within the village?"

"Times have changed. Ah, I’ll let the main household decide."

After dinner, the main household gathered in the main house. The merchant wife explained the widow’s situation, and Wang Dalang refused without hesitation: "I don't wish to. To be honest, I’ve already spoken with Tiger Bao and Tiger Head—until Tiger Bao passes the craftsman exam, I won’t remarry. I don’t want a troublesome wife to distract Tiger Bao. My health is poor; all I can do is keep the main household peaceful for her sake."

Such words pained the old couple.

The merchant wife choked: "But when will the craftsman exam be passed? In two years, Tiger Bao will be of marriageable age; if she has to marry within the village, how could we bear it?"

Wang Ge placed her hand on Father’s clenched fist, looked at Grandfather and Grandmother, and said firmly: "Two years is enough. In two years, I’ll pass the craftsman exam!"