Chapter 88: Wang Ge Sets Out

Who could have imagined that five bloody marks on one’s face would prevent someone from leaving their hometown? When Wang Ge returned and reported everything truthfully, Lady Jia swept her gaze over the room in anger, making Wang He and his sister immediately stifle their sobs, lest her wrath turn on them.

Wang Ge said, “Grandmother, Father, don’t worry. Tomorrow, I’ll go to the township office again with Second Uncle. We’ll ask the township officials once more. If what Lord Qiu Dao said is true, Second Uncle can take me to Reed Pavilion. From there, it’s about three days’ journey to South Mountain.”

Lady Jia complained, “So what’s the use of raising so many sons? When there’s work to be done, not a one can be relied upon.”

“My father is different. If he didn’t have trouble with his eyes, we could surely count on him!”

Wang Xing added, “Sister is right. Hm? Has Third Uncle gone to see Brother Zhu again?”

The subject quickly changed, and only then did Lady Jia realize Third Son hadn’t returned.

In truth, there wasn’t much heavy work at the widower’s house. The firewood was already chopped, and every so often a great heap was brought to the lakeside pavilion and stacked neatly. The dwelling was right by the well, and Wang Zhu could cook for himself; the rest was just sweeping and helping the old man warm his bedding at night.

The widower’s house lacked for nothing, and all the grain was new. Wang Zhu had enough to eat at every meal, and his complexion was much improved from when he’d first returned home.

“Father, you should go back. You don’t have to come so often anymore.” Wang Zhu spoke with his head and voice low. “Don’t let Grandfather and Grandmother scold you because of me.”

“Oh. Then I’ll leave and come see you again in a few days.”

“Mm.” Wang Zhu didn’t even look up as his father walked away. What use was there in watching? Father was the most indifferent in the family. If he truly cared, would he so readily agree when told to come less often?

Wang Zhu went to the well to draw water. For some reason, he felt compelled to peer into its depths. The water was black, the bucket bobbing on the surface, casting a sinister, unsettling shadow.

“What are you looking at?”

Startled, Wang Zhu jumped back from the well’s edge. “Brother Qin.”

No matter when or where he appeared, Jia Qin always had a few bamboo slips clenched in his hand. With a gentle, warm smile, he reminded, “Zhu, you’re still young and don’t know how dangerous water can be. Don’t lean over the well in the future.”

“Oh.”

“Your father has left. Why didn’t you see him off?”

“My home’s not far. There’s no need.”

Jia Qin wandered over to a corner to recite his books. When Wang Zhu had filled half a vat with water and paused for a rest, Jia Qin returned and asked, “Have you ever heard an old story, Zhu?”

Dot cloth? Wang Zhu shook his head.

“Let me tell you the tale of ‘Drawing a Prison on the Ground’…”

Dusk.

The Wang and Jia elders led their children home. From this day forward, all ties of marriage were severed—they would be, at best, ordinary neighbors. The next day, Jia’s eldest son came to collect all of his wife’s belongings.

“Abandoned by verdict?” When Lady Jia found out the township officials had listened to both families and judged the young Jia woman guilty of “disobeying her elders”—one of the seven grounds for divorce—her mood, oppressed for a day, immediately brightened.

Evildoers always reap what they sow; in the end, she hadn’t escaped the shame of abandonment!

After her delight, Elder Wang glared at his second son and reprimanded, “How many times have you suffered losses, and still you had the nerve to go and scratch her! Well, now you’ve played right into that vicious woman’s hands. How can you escort Ge now?”

It turned out, after the officials recorded the Wang family’s act of casting out the wife, they kindly advised: with the year-end approaching, the township had increased patrols and heightened vigilance against crime. Those with visible injuries, like Second Son Wang, were best to stay home.

Only then did the elder remember that his second son was supposed to see Ge off the next day. He hurried to ask the officials, and the answer was just as Cheng Shuang had told Wang Ge.

What chafed the Wang men most was that on their way home, they ran into a patrol. Because of Second Son’s facial wounds, the patrol questioned them all the way back to their ancestors. It was only when Elder Jia passed by and testified that the wounds had been inflicted by his unfilial daughter that very morning that they were let go.

Before leaving, the patrol warned Second Son Wang to stay in the village until he healed, lest he cause trouble for everyone.

“Fool! Fool!” Lady Jia grew more enraged the more she heard, and gave her son a sound beating.

The next morning, Third Son was sent to escort Wang Ge. After seeing her off at Reed Pavilion, he returned.

Wang Ge’s basket was switched for the largest in the house. Everything crafted for Magistrate Huan was repacked and sorted, and anything that could be wrapped in coarse cloth was not placed in a chest. Once everything was stuffed inside, bedding was layered on top, tied securely with hemp rope, and covered with a reed mat lashed down again.

“Grandfather, Grandmother, Father, Second Uncle, I might not be back for the Lantern Festival. Take care of yourselves. Tiger, don’t cry—study hard, learn your characters, and don’t let your sister outdo you. Shu, remember what your cousin told you: if you want to be a craftsman, you need to keep your feet on the ground and move forward steadily. Peng, look after Ai. He… all of you, go back now, I’m off!”

“Father, Mother, I’m going too,” said Third Son, hurrying after her.

The family didn’t turn homeward until the uncle and niece’s figures had vanished from view.

From afternoon onward, the wind grew colder and clouds thickened.

Lady Jia fretted, “It isn’t going to snow, is it?”

The very thing she feared came to pass. First, fine grains of snow fell, then thick flakes.

As Wang He went to close the courtyard gate, she cried out, “Third Uncle? Grandfather, Grandmother, Third Uncle’s back!”

Wang Third Son trudged in, holding a reed mat over his head to shield himself from the snow. His arms were numb and exhausted, and still, his whole front was soaked.

“The kitchen’s warm.” Wang He helped unload the basket. Luckily, the reed mat was large and his bedding remained dry.

Wang Shu made room by the stove. “Why are you back so soon, Third Uncle?”

“Huh? Ge told me to come back.”

Elder Wang hurried in and overheard, snatching up a stick of firewood to beat his foolish son. “Ge told you to come back, so you came back! What do you think I sent you for? I told you to escort your niece—as far as you could! Carry that heavy basket—as far as you could! Now you’ve come back halfway, what’s she supposed to do? How is she supposed to manage?”

Third Son shielded his head and begged for mercy: “Father, don’t hit me, it really was Ge who told me to come back. She said it was going to snow. Better one of us get wet than both.”

“You… you!” Elder Wang was so furious his chest ached and he nearly collapsed. Seeing this, Wang He lifted her grandfather onto her back, while Wang Shu supported him, and they rushed him to the main house.

Fortunately, there was no lasting harm. Elder Wang recovered soon after lying down. Second Son, shaken to his core, remembered that in his previous life, Father had shown signs of heart trouble, then suffered increasingly frequent attacks until he passed away.

Clutching his father’s hand, he sobbed, “Father, where does it hurt? Tell me, don’t hold it in. I’ll take you to see the doctor tomorrow, give you medicine—whatever you need. Tell me, does it still hurt? Please, tell me…”

Wang Peng, Wang Xing, and Wang Ai sat in a row by their grandfather’s side, all weeping and wiping their tears.

Elder Wang’s heart, chilled before, was now thoroughly warmed by his other sons. But when he saw Third Son kneeling at the back, wearing his usual fearful, honest expression, resentment surged anew. “Third Son, go back to your own room.”

“Yes, sir.” Third Son knew his mistake and was grateful his father hadn’t suffered for it. He stepped outside, ashamed and fearful, and sat by the wall, crying quietly.

Soon, those in the inner room heard him. Lady Jia had no choice but to call him in, drape him in a quilt, and, choking up, said, “Son, you know… you know Ge cares for you as her uncle. But didn’t you think, she’s just a young girl, and now she has to carry that heavy basket alone for half a day? In this freezing weather, you found it hard enough coming back—how about her, eh?”

“I… I was wrong. Eldest Brother, I was wrong, hit me if you must.” He crept over to his eldest brother and confessed.

Wang Dalang’s hand, gripping his knee, was taut with veins, but his words were gentle and understanding. “Ge was right. If Third Brother had gone with her, it would only have meant another person freezing. When Ge has enough skill and makes her way in the world, Third Brother won’t even be worthy to go with her.”

In truth, Wang Ge was managing just fine. It had only just begun to snow, and the temperature hadn’t dropped suddenly. She had long since devised a way to keep off the snow: two sturdy sticks were fastened to either side of the big basket, slanting forward. The reed mat was stretched over them and tied down, forming a little canopy. Once she hoisted the basket onto her back, she no longer needed to hold anything up with her hands.

“Yellow clouds stretch a thousand miles, the sun grows dim; the north wind sends wild geese, the snow falls thick and fast. Fear not that no one knows you on the road ahead—who in the world won’t know… the one heading south from Wang’s house!” With no one around, Wang Ge raised her voice, full of fighting spirit.

What matter that the heavy basket pressed on her shoulders?

What matter that she traveled alone through ice and snow?

The path of the master craftsman was never meant for the timid or faint of heart!

(End of chapter)