Chapter 69: The Little Bamboo Man

Old Master Wang was both furious and embarrassed; his cheeks trembled with indignation! Wang Ge stomped over, her voice raised in complaint: “Grandfather, why are you still covering up for Third Uncle? Who in our family doesn’t know he saves food from every meal, just to take it to that abandoned woman! Every few days, Third Uncle runs off to Sand Village, again and again! Is Sand Village really so destitute? The whole Yao family has been cast out, must our Wang family support them all?” The last two sentences were shouted toward the inner room.

Old Master Wang let out a long breath: A household with a wise daughter is worth more than two useless sons!

Wang Sanlang had just regained his senses; on hearing this, he nearly fainted again.

The villagers clicked their tongues in understanding. “No wonder—always seeing your third boy driving the cart out of the village, so that was to Sand Village. How far is that! How much money must he waste on shoes and food? Tsk, tsk, Old Wang, you mustn’t go soft-hearted again. Once your third boy wakes up, don’t give him a thing to eat. Daring to take the family’s grain outside—let him feel what hunger is!”

Old Master Wang sighed. “Family disgrace, making us the laughingstock among neighbors.”

At this moment, Wang Erlang came out, drenched in sweat. “Don’t worry, Father, Third Brother is fine. He’s just worn out from running to Sand Village so often and hasn’t eaten or slept well.”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk!” The villagers grew more scornful, calling into the inner room, “Since he’s all right, let’s all leave and let him rest properly.”

The others drifted off in twos and threes, but one lingered behind to solemnly warn Old Master Wang, “Don’t you dare go soft—let him go hungry for two more days. If you’re going to teach a lesson, make it a harsh one!”

Go hungry for two days? Wang Erlang blinked, looking questioningly at his father.

Old Master Wang, seeing his second son’s foolish look, couldn’t be bothered to answer and went inside.

Sanlang was already sitting up, weakly saying, “Father, I’m all right, don’t—”

“I can see you’re just fine. Hmph!” Old Master Wang, reassured, walked off in a huff. Passing Erlang, he vented his anger: “Why are you standing there? Out of my way!”

Wang Erlang was even more confused and quickly turned to Wang Ge. “What’s wrong with Grandfather?”

“Worried about Third Uncle, of course.” Wang Ge caught sight of Xiao Jia’s wife approaching and asked, “Second Uncle, about that money I gave you at Reed Pavilion the other day, I’ve changed my mind. Why don’t you give it back?”

Wang Erlang chuckled sheepishly. “No way.”

“Husband,” Xiao Jia’s wife hurried over, suppressing her anger. “Come inside, I have something to ask you.”

Wang Erlang, puzzled, followed his new wife inside.

At that moment, Granny Jia, Wang Dalang, and several children all came over. Wang Peng ran into the inner room in tears and threw himself into his father’s arms.

Wang Ge blocked her grandmother and father, quietly recounting the earlier scene of her grandfather’s anger.

Granny Jia, breathing heavily with rage, pointed toward the room and cursed, “Foolish child! You are not to go to Sand Village this whole month! And as for that unfilial Zhuer, if he wants to be a Yao, then let him stop coveting the Wang family!”

Smack! The old lady suddenly turned and slapped the gloating Wang He. “You heartless brat! No matter how the elders fail, it’s not your place to mock!”

In the main house, Wang Ai was wailing upon waking, and Granny Jia hurried back inside.

Wang He covered his face. His grandmother could slap him as much as she liked, but being slapped in front of Wang Ge meant days of her mockery. When Wang Shu tried to comfort him, he shoved her so hard she nearly fell.

Shamed and angry, Wang He headed back inside, only to see his mother, Xiao Jia’s wife, running out, shouting all the way, “I can’t live like this anymore!” She dashed out the gate.

Oh no, Mother’s going back to her family! Wang He and his siblings hurried after her.

Wang Erlang, hair in disarray, stormed out and roared, “Anyone who chases after her today is no child of the Wang family!” As soon as he shouted, he felt a wild satisfaction in letting all his anger out.

Wang He halted at the gate, not daring to pursue. Wang Shu, deeply attached to her father, quickly ran back, looked up with tears in her eyes, and pleaded, “Father, I’m a child of the Wang family—I’ll listen to you. Please don’t be angry anymore. When you’re like this, I’m scared, I’m so worried…”

In the east wing, Wang Sanlang and his son, along with Wang Xing who hadn’t yet left, peered through the crack of the door, exchanging frightened glances. Wang Peng whispered, “What’s wrong with Second Uncle? Why is he as fierce as Grandfather?”

Wang Sanlang shook his head blankly.

Wang Xing asked, “Third Uncle, with the family in such chaos, are you still going to Sand Village in a few days?”

Wang Sanlang quickly replied, “Don’t mention that again!”

In the main house, Wang Ai had been woken by the commotion outside and was now inconsolable, her cries fraying Granny Jia’s nerves. But as soon as Wang Dalang took her, she quieted, clinging to her uncle’s neck and sobbing softly.

Granny Jia, still uneasy, muttered, “One thing after another—what are Erlang and his wife fighting about now? I’ll go take a look.”

But Old Master Wang, still burning with anger, forbade her.

Wang Ge, looking shamefaced, said, “Grandmother, there’s no need to ask—I know what happened. I sold some woven goods in town for twenty-one coins. When Second Uncle picked me up at Reed Pavilion, I gave him back the coin he’d spent buying lard for me before.”

Her voice grew smaller as she edged backward. “Just now…I mentioned it again in front of Second Aunt. She misunderstood, thought I’d earned a top craftsman’s reward at the county office again, and that I gave money to Second Uncle without telling her… Oh, please don’t hit me, Grandmother! I won’t do it again, never again!”

What a chaotic day it was for the family. Wang Ge hadn’t been spanked in years, but fortunately, her grandmother’s blows only brushed her clothes.

The next day, a fierce wind blew, making it impossible to go into the wild hills.

The whole family packed into the main house for warmth, even bringing over their bedding. Two layers of straw mats were laid down, topped with two more layers of quilts, to keep the cold from seeping up from the floor.

Erlang, Sanlang, and Wang He wove straw sandals, while Granny Jia and her granddaughters, Wang Shu among them, sewed coarse jackets.

Wang Dalang massaged his father’s waist and shoulders, while Wang Peng kneaded his grandfather’s legs. As the weather grew colder, Old Master Wang’s back began to ache again.

Wang Xing sat alone on the other side, practicing his calligraphy with his back to everyone. An oil lamp burned on each side of his desk—a rare extravagance for a poor household. Wang Xing knew the family’s hoarded sesame oil was nearly gone for the sake of his studies, so he applied himself with utmost diligence.

But Wang Ge knew she couldn’t let her younger brother stare at the bamboo scrolls in such light for long. She ran out to the storage shed, picked out some thin bamboo tubes, and brought over a small work stool.

“Can’t sit still for a moment, can you? What are you up to now?” Granny Jia stuck her needle into her hair and asked.

“Making something fun for the little ones.”

“Oh, something fun… a toy, a toy!” Wang Ai cheered, remembering the word her sister had taught her.

Wang Ge smiled and began crafting little bamboo figures. She snipped the tubes into segments with scissors, then whittled thin bamboo knives and spears. She sorted the tubes into pairs, arranging them like “little people,” then threaded them together with fine hemp string, tying the bamboo weapons to their arms, ready for battle.

Finally, she carved four round discs just larger than the bamboo tubes, pierced holes in their centers, and threaded them onto the string at the feet of each figure.

And it was done.

Placing two stools together, she let the bamboo figures stand over the gap. Pulling the strings from below, the two figures instantly began to spar, with real vigor.

The faster she pulled, the faster the little warriors fought—advancing, retreating, at times fiercely.

“Ah!” Wang Ai squealed with excitement.

Wang Peng ran over at once.

Wang Xing, startled by the noise, turned around and then couldn’t look away.

Old Master Wang got out of bed, his back no longer aching. “What’s this? Move aside, Peng, let Grandfather have a look.”

(End of chapter)