Chapter 57: Ink Sticks, Spears, and Chopsticks

At this moment, it became clear that Wang Ge’s days of hard labor had not been in vain—she cradled the case in her arms and was among the fastest runners. The implements shed was finally in sight!

A zigzag path wound southward, its end lost from view. The pillars supporting the shed roof stood dense and evenly spaced, each two paces apart. Below lay wooden workbenches, each displaying only one type of mold, with numbers varying by size. Lined neatly on the ground beside each bench were equal numbers of bamboo baskets, each containing the materials for making the molds.

Examinees on Wang Ge’s side could only take materials from their own side. If depleted, they could circle around to the other side via the passage, but climbing under or over the benches was strictly forbidden.

Liu Xiaolang had warned them: pick the easiest mold you see, and don’t hesitate!

So, the moment Wang Ge spotted the ink marker, she grabbed it. By the time she picked up the small bamboo basket with the materials and stood up, every ink marker on that bench had been snatched away.

Clutching her basket tightly, she pushed through the crowd to the work area, sat down, unpacked her tools, and used her case as a support for a one-foot-long, half-foot-wide wooden board, then began making the ink marker.

The ink marker, part of the carpenter’s ink line tool, was essentially a bamboo-strip brush, also called a thin-bristle brush. Its design: narrow at the top, wide at the base, with the base split into broom-like bristles. Carpenters used it to press lines, draw short straight lines, or mark points.

The basket contained only two green bamboo strips—no other tools. This meant the issued tools were sufficient, and they were allowed one error in making the brush.

First, Wang Ge used her bamboo knife to strip the green bark from one strip, discarding the bark. Next, she measured the brush tail’s length and the number of bristles, as well as the brush body’s length.

She began with the brush tail—thinning about two finger-lengths, then carefully slicing the bristles with her carving knife, taking care not to snap any. After cutting twelve bristles as per the mold, she thinned them further with a smoothing knife, constantly comparing their curvature to the mold’s to ensure consistency.

When the bristles matched the mold in thinness and curve, she proceeded to carve the brush body. Placing the mold on the bamboo, she traced its shape with the knife, then cut it out.

Finished.

Wang Ge quickly packed her tools, carried her basket to the eastern rest area.

Five craftsmen sat in a row before the Fame Drum. The drum official, with a burly physique and leopard-like eyes, fixed her with an intimidating stare.

Unsure which craftsman to approach, she chose the one in the middle. He took the two ink markers from her basket, stacked them, checked their size, contour, and bristle curve for consistency, then counted the bristles—exact. He then passed the basket to the craftsman on his right, who repeated the checks.

Once approved, he asked, “Examinee’s place of origin and name?”

She responded crisply and loudly, “Village of Jiashe, Township of Buzhi, Wang Ge.”

With a mighty swing, the drum official struck the Fame Drum for the first time in the artisan exam.

Boom… hummmm…

Before the resonance faded, the drum official, face flushed and neck taut, bellowed, “Village of Jiashe, Township of Buzhi—Wang Ge… passed!”

He had barely pronounced “Wang” when a second Fame Drum sounded in the distance.

Wang Ge’s heart trembled. If even she was nervous, those not yet finished with their first replica must be even more so.

She turned and ran, brushing past another examinee heading to submit their work. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a bamboo flute in the basket—lucky, that one only needed a few holes drilled.

Having just finished the first round of picking, there were still several simple molds left in the implements shed—three types in plain sight. She remembered Liu Xiaolang’s advice and this time grabbed an octagonal wooden rod, one end tapered to a triangular point, about half a foot long.

This piece was actually a weapon, called a “shu.”

In reality, a shu was a long staff with an octagonal head, but for the exam, to save materials, they only needed to replicate the head.

As Wang Ge set her board on the case again, another Fame Drum sounded in her area—the third in the hall. She glanced up; it wasn’t the examinee who’d submitted the bamboo flute.

What was happening?

Suddenly, from the northwest came the sound of wailing, abruptly cut off.

Boom!

Another drum sounded close by, startling Wang Ge into a shiver. A young girl behind her, just a budding maiden, gave a frightened “ah!”

“County of Duoyi, West Alley… skills inferior!”

Wang Ge didn’t catch the eliminated examinee’s name, but was surprised the first “Drum of Defeat” sounded from her own section. This rule was harsher than when she’d taken the apprentice exam—those eliminated not only struck the Drum of Defeat themselves, but had to loudly announce their origin and name.

At that moment, a patrolling inspector, sharp as a hawk, fixed on the young girl behind Wang Ge and strode over to announce her elimination: “Disruptive noise without cause—leave at once!”

“No…” The young apprentice’s face turned ashen with fear, but the inspector showed no mercy, gripping her shoulder and dragging her away.

Wang Ge was so close she could hear the girl’s feet scraping the ground in her struggle. She hadn’t expected the exam discipline to be so severe!

From the northwest, another Drum of Defeat sounded—the second elimination!

Boom! The dragged girl struck the third Drum of Defeat, nearly howling her origin and name.

The drumbeats and cries were deeply unsettling. Wang Ge focused on steady breathing, observing those around her—all just as tense and watchful.

No, what did it matter what others were doing? She must keep calm, block out distractions, focus on herself—she had to be steady, steady…

After a dozen slow breaths, she finally felt herself calm. She looked at the octagonal shu materials: a cylindrical wooden rod, a hemp-cloth glove, and a flat chisel. Clearly, there was only one chance to replicate this piece.

She compared the mold and the rod’s lengths, sawed off the excess, then untied the hemp cord from her head to mark reference points on the tapered end, measuring circumferences. She marked corresponding points on the wooden rod, lightly incising them with her knife.

With these points, she could carve a matching head. Although the carving was not complex, Wang Ge was just as meticulous—she firmly believed that only with sincerity toward her craft would the craft reward her in turn.

A woodcarver’s life offers two peaks: utmost refinement, and utmost simplicity. Which is harder? Even masters of the art debate endlessly.

Gloving her left hand, she chiseled the facets, gradually shaping the arrowhead, always measuring with the cord to match the mold’s circumference.

Finished.

“Village of Jiashe, Township of Buzhi, Wang Ge—passed!”

She made her name known again!

By now, simple molds in the implements shed had clearly dwindled. Wang Ge now chose “chopsticks.” In pre-Qin times, these were called “jia,” and only in the Ming dynasty did they gain the name “kuai” (chopsticks).

Few modern people know chopsticks have a fixed form—one end round, one end square, symbolizing heaven’s roundness and earth’s squareness; length seven inches six fen, symbolizing the seven emotions and six desires of mankind.

Wang Ge’s chopstick mold was bamboo, with only two bamboo strips for material—no second chance for error.

There was no secret to making chopsticks, just careful, slow shaping. The bamboo strips were longer and wider than the mold—first, she used her bamboo knife to trim the excess, then braced a scraper across the board, the notch facing up. Holding the scraper steady with her left hand, she rotated the upper half of the bamboo strip on the flat notch to make it square, then reversed it, rolling it on the round notch to make it round.

Throughout, she constantly compared with the mold, marking several points, measuring with the cord to match the circumference.

Boom!

“Lotus Boat Township, Moonlit Pavilion, Zheng… passed!”

Again from the northwest—this person had passed three times, one more than Wang Ge! The name wasn’t clear, but the surname was Zheng.

Duoyi County had three townships; Lotus Boat Township was the most prosperous, home to many workshops. If this Zheng was also young, their talent must be exceptional!

Wang Ge’s momentary emotional surge was suppressed with two breaths. Progress! She encouraged herself, steadied her mind, and continued making chopsticks.