Chapter 61: I Create, You Imitate

After passing several production areas, the molds in the tool sheds became noticeably fewer; at times, several workbenches stood empty. The number of examinees dwindled as well, and where Wang Ge now stood, only craftsmen and patrol officers could be seen.

This place felt somewhat like a watershed. Continuing forward, she silently counted—twenty benches passed before she found a single mold: a set of wooden blocks bound together by a wooden square frame, the blocks within varying in size, totaling nine.

Unfortunately, the materials lay on the opposite side; she walked quite a distance yet found no passage around. Doubling back seemed a waste, so she decided to abandon it for now and return at dawn to try her luck.

After another long stretch, all the benches were empty; she gave up counting, only to unexpectedly spot a solitary woven grass butterfly resting atop one. Even better, the materials were on her side.

Thud!

In this production area, the drummer, shivering from the cold, finally beat the Fame Drum for the first time since the exam began. “Bu Zhi Township, Jia She Village, Wang Ge—pass!”

None of the craftsmen here used ink; each recorded with a carving knife. Wang Ge happily bowed to them and took her leave.

This was her tenth item!

Soon, several tool sheds converged, like tributaries flowing into the sea, merging into a main shed extending southward.

No mold, no mold, still no mold…

“Huff… huff…” Wang Ge gasped, breath short and heart pounding, unable to wrap her scarf anymore. All the strength she had saved was spent; she stopped to catch her breath more and more often. Looking back, she wavered: was it worth running so far just to see that carp stone?

She quickly affirmed herself: yes, it was worth it. She knew she was nearing her limit; tomorrow, she’d give her all and might achieve the rank of journeyman, but then she’d have no strength left to see the carp stone.

The carp stone symbolized the craftsman’s perseverance, braving adversity and reaching the far shore against the current. Her skills were not enough for the peak of the journeyman level, so at least she could settle for seeing it up close.

“Huff… huff…”

She had to see it! She wished she could touch it!

“Huff, huff, huff…”

Another production area—still no molds.

Isn’t this just cruel?

Now so exhausted her mouth barely closed, she hugged her chest, leaning on it for support. Is that the smell of firewood? The craftsmen and patrols surely had food—what might they be eating? Probably nothing good. Did they have privies? Where were they built? She still hadn’t seen one.

Her mind wandered as she rose again and pressed forward.

Huff, huff…

Truly, a mountain in sight kills the horse! Whose clever trick was it to set the carp stone so far, with such a long stretch in between and not a single mold? Was it deliberately meant to mislead examinees, to make them give up halfway?

If any carp really managed to swim upstream to this point, would it have any strength left to leap?

Huff, huff… Could it be… she was the only fool… walking this pointless distance just to see a stone?

No, she needed another rest! Lying down where she was, she saw a patrol approaching and hurriedly used her chest as a pillow—if she were mistaken for a fainted examinee and thrown out, what a grievance that would be.

“Not a single one of these little brats has stamina—why is it such a struggle to walk here? Could they really faint from exhaustion?” At the end of the tool shed, an elder, short and thin, well past fifty, was sipping hot soup. With every few mouthfuls, he grumbled; his short beard twitching with each complaint.

Before long, he gazed desolately at the carp stone, pressing his chest and musing, “Last year as chief examiner in Kuaiji Commandery. No need to wander the counties every year now—just guard this stone.”

The craftsmen attending behind him bowed their heads, solemn and silent, as though hearing nothing.

This elder was none other than Master Yao, chief examiner for this year’s Dao Yi County craftsman exam.

The river flowed endlessly, cool winds drifting by, and atop the silhouetted mountains, a vault of stars, stirring a nameless sorrow in the elder’s heart. His voice rose from a murmur to a song:

“On the cypress boat, drifting along the current, sleepless and troubled, as if with hidden worries. If only I had wine, to wander at ease; my heart is not a mirror, I cannot swallow—ah, you little… girl!” He nearly blurted “little brat.”

Wang Ge knew the elder must be an examiner. She remembered the exam rules, gently set down her chest, bowed, then picked it up again, not daring to speak, her gaze fixed on the carp stone.

This massive stone dwarfed the one she had seen in the Prince Gong’s Mansion in her previous life, though the shape was similar; one could see at a glance the fierce outline of a carp, head raised, tail down, leaping into the air.

How she wished she could touch it, but patrols watched her closely.

As Wang Ge admired the carp stone, Master Yao entered his resting straw hut. Beside his pack lay a chest a foot and a half long, a foot wide, sealed with clay at the knot. He knocked off the clay seal and opened the chest; inside lay a double-bound document, also sealed, bearing the words: Supervisor of Works.

Meanwhile, on Wang Ge’s side, no matter which way she circled the carp stone, the patrol followed. The sweat on her body, warmed by exertion, was now chilled by the river wind. Deciding to turn back, Master Yao approached and asked, “You came just to see the carp stone?”

Behind him came five craftsmen and two patrols. The craftsmen carried pens and bamboo slips; the patrols held lanterns.

“Yes, sir,” Wang Ge replied, lowering her head. Such a grand entourage, recording even a question—could he be the chief examiner?

“Not tired?”

“Not coming is tiring, too.”

“Haha! That’s honest. Finished nine items?”

“Yes.”

“State your place of origin and name.”

“Yes, sir. Examinee Wang Ge, from Bu Zhi Township, Jia She Village.”

All five craftsmen recorded in unison.

Wang Ge dared not look up, bowing again.

“Since you’ve reached the end of the tool shed, you must replicate a mold. I’ll make the mold now; you copy it. If successful, you may return the way you came; if not, there’s an exit over there—leave through it.”

“Yes, sir.”

There was no use lamenting her bad luck now. Wang Ge obediently followed, arriving at a straw hut not far from the pottery kiln. Outside, wood, bamboo, wheat straw, thorn twigs, hemp vines, and several auxiliary materials were stacked; though each was limited in quantity, all necessary items for the woodworking category were present. The chest containing tools matched the type issued to examinees.

Master Yao chose bamboo, split it into thin strips, then shot her a dissatisfied glance. “Turn your back!”

“Yes, sir.” Wang Ge was glad for the rest. The scent of soup wafted from the kiln, making her mouth water. She walked a yard away, turned her back, and gazed at the carp stone. As she watched, it seemed the starry sky was a spray of crystalline droplets, cast when the giant carp soared heavenward.

One day, she—Wang Ge, Wang Nanxing—would surely be like that carp, tail striking the water, rising high, reaching the sky and scattering stardust!

“Examinee, come forward.”

Wang Ge snapped back to attention. When she returned to the straw hut and saw the mold indicated by the examiner, her grip on the chest tightened.

The rolling lantern!

Master Yao said, “You have half an hour. Finish it; this area will be your place of renown.”

“Yes, sir.” She set down her tools, first pretending to examine the bamboo basket, lifting it lightly for inspection, then set it down and rolled it back and forth, feigning surprise. She rolled it several more times, picked it up again, and acted puzzled as to why the candle holder never toppled.

The performance lasted long enough. She began splitting bamboo strips, first matching the length of the outer circle, then preparing nine more of equal size. With the outer circle ready, she used hemp cord and a wooden ruler to measure the inner axle and candle holder.

Even though she was familiar with making rolling lanterns, the allotted half hour, including the time spent acting, was tight.

In truth, Wang Ge worried needlessly; Master Yao never once watched her. After assigning the task, he fixed his gaze on the carp stone, as if seeing it for the first time. His expression was peculiar, shifting between bitterness, sourness, and frustration, never once showing joy.