Chapter 92: The Unraveling

After breakfast, Wang Ge left the northern gate of the study lodge along the same path she had taken the day before, heading to check on the carpenters’ workshop. When the craftsmen’s examination concluded, the Nanshan Residence had set up a temporary workshop outside the venue, hurriedly hiring workers to make arrow shafts.

She wondered if they were still hiring now.

Passing the stone pool at the edge of the waterfall she had visited before, she continued east as Huzi had instructed. Soon, she saw figures weaving through the bamboo grove. After felling bamboo, the workers would cut the stalks into sections and carry them on their shoulders, some wrapping the bamboo in cloth before hoisting it up.

Wang Ge caught up with a woman carpenter, but instead of asking questions outright, she simply smiled and walked beside her.

The woman carpenter, seeing Wang Ge’s honest appearance, took the initiative to ask, “Why aren’t you working at the lodge? What brings you to the workshop?”

It was her age again, making them mistake her for a servant boy.

“I’m a student, but also a carpenter. I’m looking for work.”

“That’s good. We’re in urgent need of hands. Come with me.”

The carpenters’ workshop at the foot of Feiliu Peak, like the study lodge, was also surrounded by a wall. Inside, there were small courtyards separated by partitions, each with different kinds of woodworking underway. Various types of timber and bamboo were stacked in each yard, evidence that much of the surrounding forest had been cultivated by hand.

The woman led Wang Ge to the foreman.

In these times, no one dared to lie about one’s status or rank as a craftsman—such things could be checked. If a lie was exposed, one would not only be scorned but could also face punishment from the authorities. Upon learning that Wang Ge was a registered student, the foreman regretted asking so many questions. But there was no choice; he had to grit his teeth and hire a first-class craftsman.

The workshop assigned Wang Ge the task of crafting arrow shafts from “arrow bamboo.” It was not as simple as cutting to the required two-foot length—the main challenge was straightening the shaft and scraping the arrow’s body clean, then polishing it smooth.

Each piece of arrow bamboo had been roasted over fire, thoroughly dried of moisture, but in the process, the heat would warp and twist the bamboo. There was a special tool for straightening: a fixed groove to the right, a movable one to the left. When perfectly aligned, the opening represented the minimum standard diameter for an arrow shaft.

If, after closing both grooves tightly, the shaft could still move freely, it meant she had scraped it too much and ruined the piece.

After each straightening, the shaft was passed over with a scraper. The first pass removed the green outer skin, then another straightening; then more scraping and polishing to make it round and smooth, then straightening again.

Money was not easily earned. By noon, Wang Ge had completed only five arrow shafts, not even taking time for a drink of water. Lunch at the workshop was free: a wheat cake, a bowl of warm water, and a spoonful of salted beans. All the workers ate quickly, then went right back to work.

Wang Ge usually ate hastily, yet she was still the slowest in the yard; for the last two bites, she simply stuffed them all in her mouth. The cake had bran, which scratched her cheeks uncomfortably.

Just as she picked up more materials, a sub-foreman from another yard came in, calling out, “Who’s quick at making carpenter’s squares? We only need one person!”

“Me!” Wang Ge jumped up, spraying a bit of cake as she spoke.

“Can you finish one in half an hour?”

“I can. I guarantee the measurements will be exact.”

“Remember your promise!”

“Yes.” Wang Ge was overjoyed.

The yard for making squares was filled with fine wood dust and the scent of timber was strong. Wang Ge took out her handkerchief and tied it around her face before beginning to saw the wood. The hardwood was dense; she first sawed out the rough shape of the square, then used a carving knife to score lines and chiseled away the excess.

The sub-foreman, uneasy, stood by watching. “How many squares have you made before?”

“A hundred.”

He felt a pang in his teeth. “Only a hundred?”

“The county magistrate only wanted a hundred. I didn’t dare make more.”

Another pang. “The— the county magistrate? Ordered you to make squares?”

“Yes. Before I started, he promised to pay me at the rate for first-class craftsmen.”

“Ahem… Don’t worry, Master Wang. As long as your work meets the standard, we’ll pay you accordingly.”

Wang Ge worked as she spoke, refining the outline, then began marking the scale with a carving knife.

The sub-foreman paced back and forth, finally unable to hold back. “We all use templates to mark lines. Master Wang, you…” How could you not even ask for one?

“I don’t need it. When it comes to making rulers, I am the template.”

No old craftsman could stand such boasting. Hands behind his back, one came over to admonish her, “You, young lady, even if you are a first-class craftsman— but if you dare not say such words, what’s the point of earning that rank? The young truly are to be admired! Hmm!” He had worked as a carpenter for decades. One glance at Wang Ge’s lines told him enough—he turned and went back to his own work.

Wang Ge’s eyes curved in a smile as she focused on her task.

By dusk, the workshop paid her two hundred and twenty coins. Wang Ge set off home in high spirits, only to run into Huzi by the pool.

He was shaking a withered branch beside the path.

“Huzi? It’s so cold—what are you doing here?”

“I went looking for you, but you weren’t around. I figured you must have gone to the workshop.”

Wang Ge noticed him pointing at her and realized her clothes were covered in wood shavings. She hurried to the roadside and brushed them off.

“Young lady, there’s a waterwheel over there. Have you seen it?”

“No. Actually, our village has a waterwheel too, but it’s built near someone’s land. I’ve never gotten close.”

“In the manor, you can get close to all of them. Want to take a look?”

“Let’s go.” Wang Ge naturally took the little fellow’s cold hand in hers; her palms were still warm from her work.

Huzi paused, then grinned. “Let’s go.”

The waterwheels of the Jin dynasty were still of the treadwheel type improved by Ma Jun in the Wei era, powered by human labor. Through a system of gears and paddle chains, water could be raised from a lower to a higher level. They could turn both ways, useful for both irrigation and drainage.

The wheels on the west side of Feiliu Peak’s pool were not used for irrigation. Instead, the reverse-turning paddle chains scooped water from the pool, letting it fall vertically to power hammers that pounded retted bamboo into shreds. The fiber was then placed in a large stone trough, where it mixed with water to form pulp. Next, the pulp could be scooped onto bamboo screens, pressed, separated, and dried to make paper—but this paper was rough, unsuitable for writing.

Wang Ge and Huzi, one tall and one short, stood before the thundering waterwheels, both in awe, despite the unpleasant smell in the air.

Huzi’s eyes were full of longing. “Young lady, do you know? Since I became aware of things, my greatest wish has been that one day, all the scholars in the world can write on paper. When traveling, they won’t have to carry heavy bamboo slips. When recording things, they won’t be forced to condense their words over and over, but can write down all the knowledge we have and pass it on to every commoner who wishes to read and learn.”

A stray drop of water may have splashed into Wang Ge’s eye; she wiped it away, voice a little choked. “Huzi, your wish will come true! If it’s difficult, I’ll help you make it happen. If my help isn’t enough, there are thousands upon thousands of craftsmen in the world who will join in! So, it will definitely come true! Let’s go to the workshop and ask for some bamboo. I can build a model waterwheel, and recreate everything we’ve seen today in bamboo—the wheels and the busy craftsmen alike!”

“Really?”

“Yes!”

Hand in hand, the two ran off, laughter trailing behind them.

Who would have guessed that at the workshop, they would need to pay five coins for bamboo, though that included the use of tools. The rule was that the tools and carrying basket had to be returned within five days, with compensation required for any damage.

Seeing Huzi’s eager eyes, Wang Ge’s heart ached as she paid the five coins.

Night had fallen. The two hurried back, and as soon as they entered the north gate of the study lodge, they heard someone in the low shrubs to the side muttering, “That registered student Wang Ge—don’t mention it. So disgusting!”

(End of chapter)