Chapter 94: Words as the Foundation of Classics

The principle is as simple as that: when someone intentionally offers guidance, the wise will see through it in a single thought.

Tiger praised, “Marvelous, truly marvelous! Please continue your work, Lady Wang. Tomorrow morning, let us go together to the pond and test this waterwheel. It’s surrounded by small tubes—why not call it the tube wheel? What do you think?”

“Agreed,” Wang Ge replied, relieved that the name ‘tube wheel’ was so appropriate. “By the way, have you finished your lantern poem?”

Tiger’s smile froze.

Wang Ge approached the desk to look… Every blank bamboo slip was filled, all with repeated characters: “Lantern,” “Deng,” “Ding,” “Lamp,” “Ascending,” and so forth.

She could not bear to look further; if she did, she feared she might start humming Journey to the West.

“I don’t recognize any of these characters. Tiger, can you explain them to me?” she asked sincerely, not believing that a precocious child would deliberately waste ink and slips.

In that instant, Tiger’s eyes brightened.

He sat beside her, picked up the slip with the word “lamp,” and said, “The simplified character for ‘lamp’ is rarely used nowadays. When writing, people often use ‘Deng’ or ‘Ding.’ The earliest form of the lamp character was ‘Deng.’ So I wondered… in ancient times, did they have lamps? Or perhaps there were records, but they were lost to the world?”

Just as the thought “oracle script” arose in Wang Ge’s mind, Tiger continued, “So far, no records of ‘lamp’ have been found in the Yin Ruins oracle bones.”

Huan Zhen had taught Wang Ge and her brother that the “Yin Ruins oracle bones” were what she had known in her previous life as “oracle script.”

She asked, “Then why is the simplest character for ‘lamp’ rarely used?”

Tiger shook his head, indicating he did not know, and continued, “In Ji Kang’s four-character poem, this character appears. The poem states, ‘The lamp emits light, the splendid curtain is long drawn.’ After him, others continued to use this form.”

He picked up slips with “Deng” and “Ding,” and began to explain their differences: “The earliest lamps were called pottery dou. Pottery dou with legs were called Ding; those without legs, Deng. But in ‘On Balance,’ there is also the ‘lamp’ character derived from fire.”

He picked up the slip with “Deng,” explaining, “Metal dou vessels are called ‘Deng’ or ‘Deng’; earthenware dou are called ‘Ascending.’” He pointed to the slip with the character for “Ascending.”

Wang Ge listened, fascinated, never expecting that a single “lamp” character would have undergone so many transformations, and in such confusion. Especially the solitary “Ascending” character—she had thought, like herself, that the slip was too narrow to fit all the radicals, so it was split.

Tiger continued, “Moreover, in the Zhou era, ‘Ascending’ and ‘Deng’ were interchangeable.”

Well, that makes it even more chaotic.

Tiger pursed his lips and smiled, then delivered another blow: “With so many forms of ‘lamp,’ why is ‘Ding’ pronounced differently? Because it is also a variant of ‘Cauldron.’ The cauldron has other variants as well.”

Wang Ge waved both hands, “Let’s pause here, senior brother. I need at least a day to digest all this.”

Tiger was delighted to hear the term “senior brother.” He rose, hands clasped behind his back, and paced like a little grown-up, saying, “Writing is the foundation of our classics. We study exegesis to understand the meaning of words and seek their origins.”

“Thank you for your guidance. Please continue composing your poem.”

“There are no slips left.”

Wang Ge took out a batch of handmade bamboo slips from her pack. “I can make slips. Use them as you wish.”

The little fellow finally showed a childish pout.

“Oh. You can’t write the poem, can you? Ha ha.”

Tiger clasped his hands in surrender, admitting defeat.

It was getting late, so Wang Ge took him home first. They walked along the winding corridor; the outer walls, windows, the floors beneath their feet, even the courtyard’s scenery, were all bathed in the shifting glow of lanterns.

As they passed each lantern, Tiger tiptoed and reached up, but Wang Ge could not reach them, let alone him. Still, she scooped him into her arms as she would her younger brother at home.

They shared a smile, and in the biting cold, together admired every lantern along the corridor. Wang Ge had barely returned to her quarters when there was a knock—two taps, just as the previous night.

Opening the door, the white crane glanced at her a moment longer than before, then moved on to knock at the next room. Next door, someone called out, “I know, I know.”

The crane did not proceed further, but instead spread its wings, flew out of the corridor, and circled back to a distant residence, pecking at the door with its beak. After waiting two breaths, with the door unopened, the crane flew away for real.

Wang Ge returned to her work, continuing to assemble the waterwheel.

The next morning after breakfast, the two of them went to the pond. Because it was near the water mill, the water flowing from the dragon-bone paddles was turbulent, streaming along the edge of the pond.

Wang Ge set down the small tube wheel. The mill worker saw it and called out loudly, “Miss, is that a pulley?”

“It’s a waterwheel,” Wang Ge replied.

What kind of waterwheel is this? The craftsman frowned, focusing on operating the mill.

The pond’s edge was uneven; in the hollows, the force of the water was just right. Ten small water tubes drew water in turn, spinning rapidly. When they reached the top, they tilted and spilled the water out. The axle drove a row of bamboo figures, who bustled with activity, making Tiger wish he could let the bamboo people rest.

The craftsman glanced over, surprised, “Eh?”

Wang Ge bent over to install a miniature bamboo trough, arranging three segments from high to low, forming a zigzag. At the end of the last trough, she set a tiny pestle. In truth, the pestle was just a lever; the water flowing through the trough was its driving force. The other end, as the flow alternated between swift and slow, began to tap rhythmically.

In a few strokes, it punched a small hole in the ground, splattering mud and water.

“Hey!” The craftsman paused his work, squatted down, and looked at the self-rotating tube wheel, then at the other mills that required constant manual turning to produce water and make the pestle strike the bamboo. “Miss, young master, if this tube wheel were made larger, like those celestial wheels, or even bigger than them, could it…” Could it be operated without manpower?

Wang Ge and Tiger exchanged a smile. She nodded toward the little fellow to let him answer.

Tiger pointed to the nearby waterfall. “If we could divert a stream from the falls, it would be worth trying. However, though Master Wang is a top craftsman and understands how the tube wheel works, to build a true large tube wheel requires the celestial wheel craftsmen. They would have to repeatedly test the waterfall’s flow. Master Wang, leave the tube wheel here for now. Tomorrow we begin our studies, and we must go to Qingrong Hot Springs for a bath.”

“Alright!” Wang Ge replied happily.

The craftsman watched them leave, murmuring to himself, “Top craftsman… Wang Ge? She’s Wang Ge? No wonder, no wonder she could achieve top rank!” Then he waved to the others, calling, “Come over! Guard the tube wheel. I’m going to find the supervisor.”

Qingrong Hot Springs were elsewhere, at least a mile from the study lodge. There were no bamboo groves here; only blue paulownias grew. Upon arrival, the two showed their official student wooden tags. Wang Ge was led by a girl attendant into the right-hand corridor. After passing through an arched cave beneath a stone mountain, several hot springs of varying sizes appeared, surrounded on three sides by tall blue walls.

Each spring was separated by flowerbeds. The blooming flowers and greenery served both as decoration and as a modest screen between pools.

Fragrance and warm, moist air greeted her, making the experience even more pleasant.

The girl attendant, about seven years old, smiled sweetly and whispered, “Please enter the pool, miss. I will wash your hair for you.”

Wang Ge already knew the custom here and felt no embarrassment. The spring water was flowing and alive, much like the hot springs she had enjoyed in her previous life. As she soaked, the attendant cleaned her hair and applied lice medicine several times. Throughout, unless Wang Ge asked, the attendant spoke little and never showed any sign of disgust, despite the abundance of lice.

The heritage of noble families revealed itself to Wang Ge day by day.

Starting with the tube wheel, Wang Ge began to blossom in the great Xie clan, gradually displaying her talents and skills worthy of her rank as a top craftsman!

From the "Dictionary of Exegesis": Ding, also called Deng.

Dou: an ancient vessel, usually made of pottery, called pottery dou.

(End of chapter)