Chapter 68: Eight Warships and the Fearless Vessel

In the depths of early winter, darkness descended swiftly, and the farming households, after their evening meal, would extinguish the hearth, return to their own rooms, and huddle beneath thick quilts to sleep.

Wang Xing was growing more considerate; knowing Wang Ge’s feet were cold, he would slip to the foot of her bed to warm them before retreating to the inner room. The siblings lay at opposite ends, Wang Ge curling one foot, occasionally bumping her brother’s sole, yet still uncertain what to craft as a gift for Magistrate Huan.

She was simply an artisan; in her previous life, all her energy had been devoted to mastering wood carving, bamboo weaving, and straw crafting. She was ignorant of astronomy and geography, and knew nothing of agriculture or improving grain yields. Even if she grasped some principles more advanced than those of this era, she dared not speak of them in a time dominated by powerful clans.

Take, for instance, the basic principle of sun-dried sea salt—she had never even seen the sea. To mention such things would be courting disaster. Or consider the “straight-beam plough” used by farmers, riddled with flaws, which could be improved by adding a ploughshare and a plough wall, and by curving the beam. Though Wang Ge didn’t know the exact structure of the later “curved-beam plough,” proposing the concept of a ploughshare and plough wall would surely inspire clever craftsmen to modify the plough. Yet, could a ten-year-old farm girl speak of such things? And if she did, would the credit go to the local officials or to herself?

Even methods for sprouting beans were off-limits for now. Each year, their fresh beans, aside from those paid as rent, were sold to the bean shop to exchange for last year’s aged beans to eat. To sprout old beans, one would need to soak them, keep them in a dark place for several days, and sprinkle water over them repeatedly. If she tried such things, she’d be scolded by her grandmother or sabotaged by young Aunt Jia.

Thus, crafting advanced objects was not impossible, but a reason was required.

“Big sister,” Wang Xing burrowed over from the other end of the bed, “tell me about the big ships. Are they really much bigger than Uncle Fish’s fishing boat?”

“Yes. They could hold several of Uncle Fish’s boats inside.”

“Wow, then aren’t they as big as our courtyard?”

“I was far away at the time, so I really don’t know exactly how long or wide they were.”

“But…” Wang Xing hesitated, feeling his next words might jinx Uncle Fish’s boat, so he whispered them in Wang Ge’s ear to ease his guilt: “I heard Uncle Fish’s boat always leaks, fixing the bow and then the stern. What happens if a big ship leaks? Can they pull it ashore in time?”

What happens if a big ship leaks?

Where had she heard that in her past life? Wang Ge’s face brightened slowly; pressing her brother’s small head, she praised, “Tiger-head, you’re my lucky star. I’ve got an idea, but you’ll have to help me think it through.”

“Oh? Tell me, big sister! I’m sure I can help!”

Of course, Wang Ge didn’t really expect Tiger-head to come up with an idea. In history, there was a type of ship structure called the “watertight bulkhead,” now a traditional craft recognized as intangible heritage.

Simply put, it used mortise-and-tenon joints (grooved boards interlocked), caulking (stuffing made from ramie, tung oil, lime, etc.), and bulkhead boards to divide the ship’s hold into several separate compartments, enhancing resistance to sinking. Even if one compartment flooded, the ship could continue sailing and be repaired along the way.

The earliest origins of this technology trace back to the late Eastern Jin, during the uprising led by Lu Xun, who modified ships with bamboo structures and invented the “eight-compartment warship.”

But the current Jin dynasty had seen no peasant uprisings—Lu Xun might not even be born yet. So the gift Wang Ge intended for Magistrate Huan was a model of the eight-compartment warship, decades ahead of its historical invention—a crude version.

Magistrate Huan was an intelligent man, certain to be inspired by the model and pass it to professional shipwrights. Wang Ge was cautious; even for this simple ship model, she would feign struggling with her brother, tracing Lu Xun’s invention path, letting the inspiration burst forth from the bamboo’s inner nodes.

The rest was straightforward. She would use half a bamboo tube as the hull, polish its inner wall smooth; saw eight thin wooden boards, carve them into slots, and fit them into the bamboo tube, dividing it into nine separate compartments, each watertight; carve water patterns on the outside base of the bamboo tube for decoration; saw a long thin plank for the deck; drill numerous small holes at bow and stern with a stone knife, insert bamboo sticks for railings, connect their tops with hemp rope; and finally, to prevent the bamboo tube from tipping in water, reinforce both sides of the base with bamboo strips.

And so, the ship model was complete.

“Little brother, give the bamboo boat a name,” Wang Ge said.

Wang Xing grinned, “Let’s call it ‘Leak-proof’!”

The siblings burst into laughter—the name was simple and direct, fitting for such a rough model.

That afternoon, Wang Ge began splitting bamboo, tearing bamboo strips, and crafting roly-polies. Wang Shu watched for a while, but soon shivered from the cold.

Aunt Jia was in the kitchen salting beans, occasionally peering into the courtyard. Seeing Wang Shu trembling, she returned inside and brought out a quilt to drape over her. “Ge, your aunt wants to know, now that you’re the top craftsman, will the village reward you with money?”

“I already got it,” Wang Ge replied coldly without looking up.

Aunt Jia’s heart tightened. “How much?”

“Second uncle is always good to me, so I shared some of the reward with him. Didn’t he tell you?”

Aunt Jia fumed, “You dare meddle in your elders’ affairs?”

Wang Ge kept tearing bamboo strips, refusing to speak.

“Mother, aren’t you busy salting beans?” Wang Shu grumbled, chasing her away.

Aunt Jia shot a glare at her unpromising daughter and went back to the kitchen, suspecting Ge was up to no good, deliberately sowing discord. If there was any reward, how could it possibly go to her husband? Ah, Shu’s nature really took after her father—so dull and foolish! Thankfully, He took after herself, knowing Ge was sly and black-hearted, never a good sort from the start.

Back in the courtyard, Wang Ge noticed Wang Shu’s head drooping lower and said, “If you don’t watch me, how will you learn?”

“But sister, my mother… I, I’m almost too embarrassed to learn from you.”

“So? You’re her daughter, but aren’t you also my second uncle’s daughter?”

Wang Shu looked up, considering her sister’s words, and smiled. “Yes. My father is nice to you, so you’re willing to teach me.”

“Exactly. People must be grateful, no matter their age. If you’re ungrateful, no matter old or young, you’re not worthy of respect.”

Wang Shu’s head drooped again. How embarrassing—her sister was indirectly chastising her mother.

Just then, a noisy group rushed in from outside the courtyard, with Wang Erlang carrying the weakly moaning Wang Sanlang.

“Hurry, hurry!” They all crowded into the eastern wing.

Wang Ge headed instantly for the main house, where her grandfather and grandmother emerged. Without needing to explain, Grandfather hurried off to the third branch.

Wang Ge quickly reassured Grandmother, “Grandfather went over, second uncle and the neighbors are there. You won’t see much if you go now. Third uncle will be fine—he was talking when they brought him in, I heard it myself. I’ll go check, you stay here. Tiger-head, go tell Father. Shu, support Grandmother.”

She rushed to the eastern wing, just catching the neighbors speaking to Grandfather: “It’s nothing serious. Looks to me like hunger—he didn’t hit his head or anything when he fainted. But, Uncle Wang, your third son was chopping trees on the mountain, that’s hard work. Make sure he never goes hungry again.”

This was intolerable—Wang Ge’s face darkened. If rumors spread that Grandfather mistreated his third son, the old man’s cherished reputation would be ruined.

(End of Chapter)