Chapter 70: When a Master Craftsman Teaches, He Uses the Compass and the Square

The next morning dawned bright, yet the wind had not ceased; the warmth of the sun barely touched the villagers before being swept away.

At the western edge of the village, among the militia encampment, Huan Zhen and Tie Lei were playing “Nail Toss.” The game entailed marking off a boundary on the ground, tossing a small bamboo nail as a marker, then taking turns to throw nails; stepping out of bounds or touching the marker meant defeat. Tie Lei won repeatedly, but Huan Zhen bore no resentment, as the game was merely an excuse to stretch his limbs—otherwise, who would indulge in such childish sport?

Meanwhile, at the manor of the Jia estate in the east of the village, just past the hour of the morning, the venerable Jia Grandfather, who rarely ventured out, sat in the biting wind with a stern expression, holding a peachwood staff. In the courtyard, two rows of clan youths stood with hemp whips in hand. Between them lay Jia Feng, the eldest grandson of the main branch, writhing and crying, beaten within an inch of his life.

In Dukeyi County, at the county office, at the hour of Si, Magistrate Huan handed a light chest to Yuan Yanshu. “Give this to Wang Ge,” he instructed, “and tell her this: ‘A master craftsman instructs his apprentices with rules and standards. When she can dispense with these tools and let measurement and precision reside in her heart, only then may she apply to become a master artisan.’”

Yuan Yanshu replied, “Your intentions are most thoughtful, sir. I shall relay every word faithfully.”

Magistrate Huan smiled, arms folded. “My care is because Wang is worth it. Before the spring, have her make one hundred wooden squares, one hundred wooden rulers, and one hundred wooden straightedges. Any surplus, the county will pay her at the rate of a master artisan. Five coins for each—square, ruler, straightedge. For each error, five coins penalty.”

Before the spring? Since when was Magistrate Huan so strict? Yuan Yanshu answered respectfully and hurried off, forgoing any stopovers, intent on saving Wang Ge an extra day.

At Jia Manor Village, in the west, Huan Zhen had lost a hundred rounds of nail toss, but at last he was warmed through. Nearby, the bondwoman who had stood throughout grew ever more hunched, her teeth chattering with cold.

Huan Zhen retied his loose arm cord and asked, “Still won’t confess?”

The bondwoman replied unsteadily, “I rarely spoke with that criminal. I truly don’t know what you want me to confess.”

Tie Feng approached, accompanied by a bondman with a pockmarked face, around forty. Tie Feng ordered him to halt.

Huan Zhen pointed to the pockmarked bondman and said to the bondwoman, “I’ve investigated you. You have one year left on your servitude; after that, you’ll be freed as a commoner. If you don’t confess, I’ll marry you to this man right now. He has over ten years left to serve, so any child you bear will be born into servitude!”

He struck at her most vulnerable spot. The bondwoman shrieked, “You’re bluffing! Don’t think I don’t know—you’re just a stable sweeper. How could you?”

Ren Suzhi strode over, with the thief-seeker Cheng Shuang and Dan Ying trailing behind.

Ren Suzhi said gruffly, “He’s no longer a stable sweeper. From today, he’s the Pavilion Attendant. And he’s not bluffing; you’re past twenty, so we have the right to assign your marriage.”

Huan Zhen, now Pavilion Attendant, pursed his lips; in the Waterside Pavilion, the tasks of attendant and sweeper were much the same.

At the east of the village, Jia Grandfather sat at Jia Feng’s bedside. The dim light accentuated his age, yet his voice remained powerful. “Lingran, your grandfather is not bluffing. From today, the affairs of our clan will be handled by the second branch. When you recover, you’ll go live by your father’s grave for three years to cultivate your temperament. If you act clever again, directing the clan to bribe officials or gathering gossip, don’t blame me for enforcing family law!”

At that moment, Wang Ge arrived with her grandmother and second uncle at the Jia estate’s grain-drying courtyard—a space many times larger than their own. Here, finished hemp coats were exchanged for grain.

Two tenant families resided here long-term; one was the old basket weaver who had exchanged skills with Wang Ge.

The old basket weaver, busy with his craft, looked up and recognized Wang Ge. “So soon? You’re the first to deliver hemp garments.”

Wang Ge approached with a smile. “Elder, I’ve made two sets. Please compare them to the sample and see if they suffice.”

He took the coats, glanced over them, and said, “They’ll do. One set of hemp clothes for one measure of grain. Do you want beans or wheat?”

“We can choose?” Wang Grandmother and Second Brother were delighted.

The old weaver replied, “Grandfather Jia is generous. Previously, only last year’s grain was exchanged—that was Jia Dalang’s own decision. Grandfather Jia was furious, said neighbors aren’t outsiders, so how could we give old grain? The hemp garment exchange is valid until spring, and all for new grain. Every measure will be heaped high.”

Indeed, two measures of grain were heaped above the rim. Another tenant came by without protest, confirming the old weaver’s words.

Leaving the yard, Grandmother Jia said to Second Brother, “Now I finally understand what Tigerhead meant by ‘people with thimble-sized hearts.’ Tsk tsk tsk…” She glanced slyly at her granddaughter.

“Mm, mm!” Second Brother nodded, also casting a sly glance. He had spent all day pondering how he’d been tricked by his niece. Who’d have thought, he froze in the reed pavilion all night, while his clever niece had schemed how to get the better of him—spending a coin to make his new wife believe he’d hidden hundreds, leaving five marks scratched on the back of his head.

Wang Ge praised, “Grandmother can recite the Analects! Try another passage.”

“You rascal, asking for trouble!”

Despite the banter, they all understood: as long as Grandfather Jia was present, the villagers might suffer losses, but never severe ones. If Jia Dalang ran things, even the sheep dung from Shou Shipo would be off-limits.

Early the next day, Huan Zhen called at their door, Tie Lei following with a chest and cloth bag. Wang Ge had already learned from her brother that Tie Feng and Tie Lei were twins, but their forgetful mother couldn’t recall who was elder and who younger.

It wasn’t a teaching day, so Young Lord Huan must have come for business. Sure enough, once Wang Elder and the siblings welcomed him inside, Huan Zhen relayed the magistrate’s instructions, mentioning the tumbler doll at the end.

Wang Ge opened the chest. Inside were ten wooden squares of varying size and base, a wooden set-square, and a straightedge, each marked with measurements.

Wang Elder hesitated—was this good news or not?

The good news was the magistrate permitted Wang Ge to apply for master artisan.

To become a master, an artisan must first earn a place in the competition, just as Wang Ge had done when testing for apprentice. Each year, each county allowed only fifty artisans to apply, all personally approved by the magistrate. The five best were called “provisional masters,” who would then travel to Shanyin County, the prefectural seat, to compete in the grand master contest.

The title “provisional master” lasted twenty years! That meant all provisional masters from the past two decades would compete at Shanyin next year.

One master for every three hundred artisans—no exaggeration.

But with only two and a half months until spring, could Wang Ge meet the magistrate’s quota?

Wang Xing dared not touch the chest of measuring tools, her lips pursed, eyes pleading toward Brother Huan.

Huan Zhen, sensing her anxiety, was about to suggest he’d ask his cousin to grant an extension until mid-spring. But Wang Ge smiled and accepted directly. “Please thank the magistrate on my behalf. Only—the tumbler doll will need a few more days to finish.”

Huan Zhen paused. “My cousin studied craft as a youth and likes to collect unusual things—not for value, but for novelty. The tumbler you made before was complex and time-consuming. Perhaps make a simple one first, as long as it’s not a common item. It can be rough.”

Tie Lei’s gaze flickered awkwardly—scholars were indeed sly, able to dissect “taking advantage of others” into so many words.

Nail Toss: A children’s game from the Wei and Jin dynasties, recorded in “Anecdotes of the World.”

People with thimble-sized hearts: Refers to those with narrow minds, from the Analects.

Taking advantage of others: From “Huainanzi,” meaning to exploit situations for gain.

(End of chapter)