Chapter 167: Master Yuan, Yuan Wears Purple!

However, when Mistress Zheng compared the "long-armed ape" character—formed seamlessly by the interlocking wooden chain and swaying fluidly with the hemp rope—with the "long-armed ape" character requested for carving on the task bamboo slip, her heart skipped a beat, accelerating rapidly.

Could it be… could it actually be?

The rest of the craftswomen also had a sudden flash of insight, looking at Wang Ge with expressions of shock and admiration.

After the task bamboo slip was handed back to Female Scribe Meng, she stated: "Most of us artisans come from farming or commoner backgrounds. How many of us can recognize rare birds and wild beasts? Think back to the quasi-artisan examination; even if you couldn't recognize a single character, you were only asked to beat the village-naming drum, and were never deliberately made things difficult for, nor were you eliminated simply because you were illiterate. Therefore, for tasks of this nature..." She held up the bamboo slip, sweeping her gaze across the crowd, "the true solution is this method of crafting."

She tapped the bamboo slip lightly against the "long-armed ape" character on the wooden chain.

"Of course, if one has broad knowledge and can successfully craft the rare birds and wild beasts requested by the task, reaching the standard of fluid lifelikeness, that is the best outcome." She tapped the bamboo slip lightly once more against the little bamboo monkey.

An awkward thing happened: the monkey's tail, secured by nasal mucus, fell off.

It didn't drop earlier, nor did it drop later; it hadn't even fallen off while doing monkey bars, but now, with a gentle tap, it fell right off.

Only then did Female Scribe Meng remember to ask, "What substance did you use to glue the hemp rope?"

Wang Ge picked up the "monkey's tail," smoothed the area beneath her nose, gestured under her nostrils, and earnestly shared her experience: "Nasal mucus. Once winter arrives and the mucus thickens, it's bound to stick even more securely."

The rest of the people were left dumbfounded, save for Mistress Meng, who praised, "Now that is truly a brilliant trick."

Female Scribe Meng's brows tilted upward in anger. She picked up both crafted items and scolded, "Wang Ge, follow me!"

"Yes."

The courtyard where Female Scribe Meng resided lay just past the northern veranda, sandwiched squarely between the Zone B timber storage and the Zone B bamboo storage. Wang Ge had been there before when she came to ask for candle oil. The architectural layout of this courtyard took the form of the four-sided enclosure common in this era, with the main house facing south, flanked by one room on the east and another on the west.

Female Scribe Meng lived alone in the western wing room.

Just like last time, Wang Ge stood constrainedly right inside the doorway. Expecting Female Scribe Meng to deliver a lecture, she was surprised instead when the scribe rummaged through her travel pack and handed over a bamboo box. "This is for sprains. Apply it a few times a day. Remember to return the box to me once the injury heals."

Wang Ge raised her head in astonishment. Seeing the other woman's expression grow even more severe, she could only take the box and bow in salute. "Thank you, Artisan Scribe."

"Mm. Every task comes with a reward. The reward for this luck-based task is that during the intensive training camp, you are permitted to craft items privately and place them for sale in a designated wooden ware shop. Of the earnings, you will take seventy percent, and the wooden ware shop will take thirty percent. On every single item, you must carve the location Doyi County, your status as a quasi-artisan, and your name."

"Yes," she answered in a crisp voice. That was wonderful; she would be able to make money.

"The finished items are still to be handed over to me. The three hundred cash you previously left in my custody—once they accumulate to a full string of one thousand, a post station will naturally deliver the money into the hands of your family. Wang Ge, bear this in mind: do not let making money delay the improvement of your crafting skills, and do not boast about this reward within the living quarters."

"I understand. Thank you, Artisan Scribe."

"Furthermore, nasal mucus must not be used on the items put up for sale."

Cough... "Yes!"

At that moment in her hometown of Reed Pavilion, rain had just fallen. Beside the newly cleared fields, wild grass burst with vibrant vitality, standing tall and straight one after another.

Children ran over to pull up weeds before nightfall. While adults loathed stepping into the mud, children felt quite the opposite; far from minding that the mud didn't even cover the tops of their feet, they deliberately smeared the mud all the way up to their calves until they were satisfied.

A young child asked Wang Xing, "I heard from your second older brother that you're going on a distant trip tomorrow? Is that true?"

"It is."

Wang Peng immediately raised his voice, "How about that? I wasn't just making things up, was I?"

Another child waded through the mud with a duck-like gait: "Axing, is the place you're going far? Is it farther than Xunren Township?"

Wang Xing did not brush off his little companion. He explained, "It's farther than the distance to Xunren Township. But Xunren Township is very vast, so it depends on exactly where you mean! If you compare it to the distance to the southernmost edge of Xunren Township, then Xunren Township is still farther."

The group of young children looked blank... They didn't understand a single word.

Wang Xing continued, "I'll draw a circle for you, and you'll understand at a glance. Look, for instance, right here is our Reed Pavilion; right here is Qinghe Village, where I'm going; and this large circle is Xunren Township..."

When Wang He came looking for his two younger male cousins, he saw that not a single child was pulling up weeds; instead, they had gathered in a circle, gasping with continuous, rolling cries of "Oh." He called out, "Apeng, Hutou, time to go home."

Further away, Huan Zhen and Yuan Yanshu walked side by side. The former stopped, looking fondly at Wang Xing. Tomorrow, the little fellow would be taking a long trip to Qinghe Village to take the pre-enrollment examination. Although his spot as a formal student had already been secured, his scores couldn't look too unsightly either. Otherwise, it would not only bring shame upon him, Huan Zhen, but even more disgrace upon Master Zhang.

Huan Zhen exhorted, "Axing is intelligent, but he is still young and has never traveled far..."

Yuan Yanshu raised three fingers. "You've already said that for the third time."

"Aren't I just worried that once you meet your uncle, you'll be too busy being timid to look after my fellow disciple?"

Yuan Yanshu actually didn't refute him. Instead, he took off his straw hat and asked quite earnestly, "Tell me the truth, if we hadn't spent so much time together, could you really tell it was me?"

Huan Zhen tilted his head to appraise him, pointing at his left cheek. "The skin is peeling."

Yuan Yanshu uttered a low "hm." All this time, the thick beard on his face was completely fake; the short bristles were made of boar hair, embedded in specially treated soft leather. Because he spent his days traveling through dust and wind and often wore a bamboo hat, the people of Reed Pavilion, including Wang Ge, had never discovered that Yuan Yanshu's appearance was disguised.

The newly invited Confucian scholar of exegesis for Qinghe Village was none other than Yuan Yanshu's father, Yuan Shanfu. For many years, Yuan Shanfu had refused official appointments, continuously promoting Confucianism in Yangzhou and converting a portion of his family's lands and houses into a Confucian study hall.

Yuan Yanshu had no idea why his father had agreed to come teach in Qinghe Village. Could it be... that his father knew he was in Doyi County?

Father and son had not seen each other for nearly two years. Yuan Yanshu certainly missed his father, but he stood even more in awe of that bamboo ruler that could be swung so fast it became a blur. Looking sympathetically at Wang Xing, who was heading home with a cheerful grin, he asked, "Must you really make Axing enter school this year?" Perhaps next year his father would leave Qinghe Village.

"The way of all learning is that a strict teacher makes things difficult. Only when the teacher is strict is the Way honored; only when the Way is honored do the people know to respect learning. Look at you—why have you been able to become a talent for people to emulate? It's precisely because you have always been deeply influenced by Master Yuan's stern teachings, tsk tsk."

Wang Xing and his second older brother returned hand in hand, the two of them scooping water from the same basin to wash the mud splatters off their faces, playing and bickering as they scrubbed. At that moment, the little fellow had no idea what kind of trial through the Way of Learning awaited him in Qinghe Village.

Nor did he know that Master Yuan had a nickname: "Yuan the Purple-Hander." Refuse to submit? He would beat your hands until they turned purple!

The moon illuminated two different places.

In Courtyard Five of the bamboo district, Mistress Zheng had finally figured out why she had failed.

It wasn't because she was stupid! She felt so unwilling, so resentful! Not resentful toward Wang Ge, but toward Lin, the young craftswoman who had been expelled from the intensive training camp.

"It's all that damned maid's fault! If she hadn't kept saying over and over that none of us artisans had ever even laid eyes on a crane, how could I have been led astray by her words? How could I have failed to take a gamble, to carve the character 'crane' and try my luck at passing? Why didn't I even try this method? It was simply because I couldn't stop myself from following that wretched maid's train of thought, narrowing my own perspective. She ruined me!" The more she pondered, the harder it was for her to fall asleep.

The next day, the craftswomen set out even earlier, all knowing that fixed tasks were becoming increasingly difficult to snatch up.

Mistress Zheng had fallen asleep only in the latter half of the night. When she woke up, blinking her sleepy eyes, the room was dim, and for a moment she couldn't get her bearings. But glancing to both sides, she sat bolt upright in terror!

Apart from herself, there was no one left in the room!

She rushed over and threw open the door; the brilliant sunlight stung her eyes.

It was over, it was completely, utterly over! She was furious, annoyed, and ashamed all at once. Furious at herself for sleeping so deeply; annoyed at whoever had left last—why hadn't they called out to wake her, instead closing the room door so tightly? Ashamed at the thought that her habit of oversleeping might somehow get spread around...

There was no time to dwell on these thoughts now; she had to hurry and search for a luck-based task.

Just as she hurried onto the southern veranda, she caught sight of Wang Ge walking toward her from the opposite direction.

Mistress Zheng felt like crying without tears. It was over, completely over—had Wang Ge already finished her task? What time could it possibly be now?