Chapter 18: Better Than Drums

The reason why Wang Tian was beaten traces back to the moment when three young men entered the county town. Huan Zhen, accompanied by him and Wen Shizhi, went to pay their respects to a newly appointed clan uncle, requesting a reinvestigation into the death of Lady Meng under the pretext of studying criminal cases. Unexpectedly, the magistrate of Huan County had already nearly unraveled the bloody case at the home of the Jiang County magistrate.

Two murders, but only one murderer: Jiang Cheng, the eldest son of the magistrate of Jiang County!

As it turned out, the woman Chang was not the magistrate’s concubine at all, but rather Jiang Cheng’s mistress. Lady Meng, having discovered Chang’s residence, went there with others to catch her husband in the act, only to catch the eldest son instead. After this, Lady Meng threatened the eldest son repeatedly, demanding he sever all ties with Chang and send her far away; otherwise, she would personally take drastic measures to get rid of Chang.

Lady Meng never imagined that her son had already been utterly bewitched by Chang, to the point of plotting his own mother’s murder. After Meng’s tragic death, the magistrate of Jiang County noticed his son’s odd behavior and, after pressing him for answers, realized what kind of monster he had raised. Yet, this was his own flesh and blood—could he kill Jiang Cheng? Not only could he not kill him, but he also felt compelled to cover up the crime for his wayward son. Ignoring his daughter’s objections, he hastily buried his wife, sent all her servants off to distant farmsteads, and even destroyed the ox cart his wife had ridden before her death.

However, by harboring such evil, the magistrate only allowed Jiang Cheng to become a true demon. Having already killed his mother to protect his mistress, what would stop him from killing his father? Thus, while his father slept, Jiang Cheng stabbed him through the heart, killing the magistrate instantly. He then eliminated the last obstacle—his younger sister Jiang E, who had always questioned their mother’s death—by killing her and burying her in the vegetable garden, creating the illusion of her mysterious disappearance.

With this, he could let the dust settle and, after a few years when everyone had forgotten the case, take Chang as his concubine without raising suspicion.

The reason Huan County magistrate was said to have almost solved both cases was because Jiang Cheng had not yet confessed the exact details of his mother’s murder. But it was pointless for him to resist—within three days, he would surely confess.

Unwilling to have made a wasted trip, Huan Zhen and his companions pleaded to interrogate Jiang Cheng with a jailer present, hoping to close the case quickly, so their journey to Duoyi County would not have been in vain.

The magistrate, busy with official duties and eager to see the case concluded, agreed.

No one expected that as soon as Huan Zhen entered the prison, growing impatient with Jiang Cheng’s feigned madness, he would draw his dagger and attempt to skin him alive on the spot! Huan Zhen’s childhood nickname was not for nothing—he truly dared to go for the kill, acting without hesitation or pretense!

Even after Jiang Cheng had confessed to all the evil deeds he’d committed over more than twenty years, Huan Zhen did not stop.

The magistrate, furious, ordered twenty lashes each for his nephew, Wen Shizhi, and Wang Tian, and sent word of their offenses to their elders with the fastest horse.

Wen Shizhi, the most timid, fainted in fright as the criminal was being flayed alive, only to be revived by a beating, and then fainted again after another round.

Wang Tian was sent back to his own family’s manor at Qinghe, to await his father’s men. What awaited him would be even harsher punishment.

Early the next morning, over six hundred craftsmen specializing in the “Peerless Skill” of the carpenter’s guild began to receive badges and register the materials and tools for the first round of examinations.

In the afternoon, large drums were erected at the east, west, south, and north entrances to the examination grounds. These drums were not called “Record Flower Drums,” but “Admit Defeat Drums.” Each craftsman eliminated from the competition, upon leaving through the gates, would strike a drum themselves, signifying their own admission of inferiority.

From that point on, the examination ground was sealed—no craftsman was allowed entry for observation. Over a hundred people bustled within, moving bamboo poles, timber, and other materials. They all wore the coarsest hempen tunics, regardless of gender, with their hair unbound and unpinned, hanging loose and cropped short at shoulder length. The village official explained that these laborers were all “servile men and women,” most of whom had been consigned to hard labor for crimes committed by their relatives, the men called “servile men,” the women “servile women,” working to atone for their families’ sins.

Once their term of service ended, they would become commoners. Still, they remained distinct from ordinary folk—their descendants were forbidden to serve as examiners or compete for master craftsman status, their only paths being farming or military service.

But enough digression. On the seventh day, the first round of the examination officially began.

At dawn, while the sky was still dark, the craftsmen of Bu Zhi Village were led by the village official to the south gate of the examination grounds, lining up in a slow-moving queue. Each was permitted to bring only bedding; anyone attempting to smuggle in tools or fire-starting implements would be banned from competing for life.

Male craftsmen were searched by patrol officers, female craftsmen by servile women. Fortunately, all were cautious and none were found to be in violation.

Once inside, the village official hurriedly assigned each candidate their position and had them uncover the oilcloths over their materials to check for missing items—any shortages could be reported now, but would not be remedied later.

The village official truly worked hard, circling the vast grounds again and again.

Wang Ge’s materials were: bamboo, grasses. Tools and supplementary materials included: a set of bamboo-splitting knives, a saw, a mallet, a bamboo ruler, hemp twine, and reed floss. When the official reached her, she quickly reported, “All present.”

Once everyone had finished reporting, the official spoke loudly: “Remember the examination rules! You will begin at dawn, and the test ends on the eleventh day at dusk. The duration is five days. Do not leave the grounds early unless necessary. Use all the materials provided to you—it will at least leave a good impression on the examiners. And do not be distracted by the sound of the elimination drums. Years of study come to fruition here; I hope you all endure to the very end!”

As soon as he finished, patrol officers at all positions began to shout, “Non-candidates must leave! Non-candidates must leave at once!”

The village official hurried away.

“The examination begins!”

Zhang Qing’s area was ahead of Wang Ge’s. While moving bamboo poles, he observed what others were doing first. He used the oilcloth covering his materials to build a rain shelter—an idea taught to him by Master Zhao. The weather was hot, and it was the rainy season; even without rain, a shelter could provide shade.

That was the benefit of having a mentor. Wang Ge understood and also began constructing a shelter. She first sawed four sections of sweet bamboo, sharpening the bases, then stood atop a pile of cattail grass and hammered the bamboo into the ground with a mallet. She twisted hemp twine into rope, tying the four corners of the oilcloth to the tops of the bamboo poles. Thus, a simple oilcloth shelter was complete.

From above, at least two-thirds of the candidates, like Zhang Qing and Wang Ge, were doing the same.

After finishing his shelter, Zhang Qing began splitting bamboo, indicating his true skill lay in bamboo weaving, not grass weaving.

Seeing that he made no further preparations, Wang Ge stopped watching him.

To create a craftsman’s piece from bamboo, one must first understand the properties of various types of bamboo, to know what each is best suited for.

Sweet bamboo, also called spotted bamboo for its speckled stalks, has thick walls, a heavy weight, high density, and tough fibers, making it suitable for frames, farm tools, and furniture.

Ci bamboo, named for the way new and old stalks grow together like mother and child, has arched tips and thin walls, and is often used for weaving daily utensils. Ci bamboo aged two to three years can be split into fine threads and woven, with tools like bamboo needles, into valuable handicrafts.

For the past two months, Wang Ge had been practicing with wild mountain bamboo and a sickle as a substitute for a splitting knife, making mats and baskets—what she wanted to train or rather, to awaken, was the basic skill of splitting bamboo.

She had not touched specialized bamboo-weaving tools in years, but fortunately, they were not much different from those she had used in her previous life. That was the advantage of traditional craftsmen—if they were missing a tool, they could always make one with a suitable alternative.

For this first competition, she must be absolutely confident. The work must demonstrate solid fundamental skills, but also feature some innovation to catch the examiners’ eye.

One of her planned pieces was to split sweet bamboo and weave a set of measuring vessels: dou, sheng, he, and yue. Measuring vessels were essential tools for weighing grain in every household, from the imperial court and nobility down to the humblest families.

To weave such items, first, their capacities must be accurately measured; second, they must be sturdy and durable, with interiors smooth and even—never should grain cling to the inside after being measured and poured out.