Chapter 49: Good at Borrowing from Things

That evening when they returned home for dinner, Jing suddenly stood up and said he wanted to learn to read. The moment the words left his mouth, the whole family stopped their chopsticks and stared at him in astonishment.

Years earlier, Zhong and Heifu, because the family still held a noble rank and had some savings, had each learned a few characters under Yan Zheng of Bian Hamlet and Lü Ying of Xiyang Hamlet. By the time Jing was around ten, a series of misfortunes had left the family poor again, and his education was neglected. Jing was also restless by nature, spending his days loafing and bragging with the other youths of the hamlet, never serious about anything, which greatly distressed his mother. Now that he had suddenly turned over a new leaf, the family was both surprised and delighted.

Mother looked at Heifu and asked if he had persuaded Jing. Heifu smiled and said, "Mother, Jing has grown up. He understands things now."

Next, Heifu told them of his plan, once he was formally appointed a clerk, to send Jing to the Training Academy as a disciple — omitting, of course, the part about doing it to help Jing evade military conscription…

When the family learned of this, they were even more overjoyed. The prospects of a Training Academy disciple were far better than those of an ordinary junior rank-and-file soldier. Mother gazed at her three sons with deep satisfaction, then began wiping away tears again.

"Your father loved Jing most of all when he was alive. If only he could see Jing with a bright future ahead… how wonderful that would be."

The three brothers coaxed and comforted her together before they finally got Mother to stop dwelling on the departed.

Then it was decided: this winter, Jing would first learn the basics of reading at home. Once the spring plowing and busy farming season were over, he would go to the township and ask Elder Yan's second son to teach him. Heifu still had over two thousand coins in savings anyway — more than enough to cover the tuition fees.

"By this time next year, we should be able to send you to the county seat to enter the Training Academy as a disciple."

Jing agreed wholeheartedly. With no farm work to do, the very next day he followed Heifu and began his arduous journey into literacy.

The teaching material was, of course, not the Three Character Classic that appears in certain Chu-Han period costume dramas — that thing only came about in the Song dynasty. Nor did they have the Historian Zhou's Primer that the Central Plains nobility used for literacy, out here in this poor backwater. So Heifu could only use those eight sections of laws and ordinances he had copied from the Yan household as a textbook, picking out simple characters to teach his younger brother.

"Father, mother, husband, wife, elder brother, younger brother, son, daughter — today, start by getting familiar with these few characters…"

After assigning Jing his daily task and leaving him to scratch his head in frustration, Heifu went off by himself to the relatively quiet spot by the family well. He sat on the edge of the well curb, and beneath the sky's light and the clouds' reflections, he began softly reciting those eight sections of laws and ordinances.

"For stolen goods valued at over six hundred sixty coins: tattooing and penal labor as a wall-builder or grain-pounder. From six hundred sixty down to two hundred twenty coins: penal labor as a wall-builder or grain-pounder, without tattooing. From under two hundred twenty down to one hundred ten coins: shaving of the beard and enslavement as a bondman or bondwoman. From under one hundred ten coins down to twenty-two coins: a fine of four liang of gold. From under twenty-two coins down to one coin: a fine of one liang of gold…"

Reading this far, Heifu set down the bamboo slip and sighed with emotion. "So in Qin, stealing even a single coin counts as theft, and the amount stolen determines the severity of the sentence. Anyone who steals over one hundred ten coins is made a convict laborer or a slave. With laws this strict, who would dare any petty thievery…"

"When five or more persons jointly attack and rob, it constitutes group banditry…"

A while later, when he reached this passage, Heifu slapped his thigh in frustration and said ruefully, "What a shame — if those men I caught had been group bandits, my reward money would have been several times greater."

For a moment, Heifu felt as if he were back in his previous life after graduation, preparing for the county police station recruitment exam — except back then he was testing to be a small constable, and now he was testing to be the station chief…

These eight sections of laws and ordinances were essentially the key topics Yan Zheng had highlighted for him before the exam. There were no shortcuts; he just had to memorize them with all his might. By the time he had spent the whole morning and more or less committed the Theft Statutes to memory, Zhong's shout rang out from the courtyard.

"Second Brother, your brother-in-law is here! He says that treadle pestle you wanted made — it's finished!"

…

A quarter-hour later, with several of the men pitching in, the "treadle pestle" was set up in the Heifu family's back courtyard, placed right beside the original pestle and mortar used for husking grain.

It looked much the same as Heifu had described that day: a device built from wood and stone. Two square planks served as the frame, with a horizontal beam set between them, supporting a long pestle lever. A stone hammer was mounted at the head of the lever, positioned directly above a newly made stone mortar… At first glance, it looked rather like a seesaw.

"Second Brother, this is the thing you had Brother-in-law make…?"

Jing came over curiously to take a look and said dismissively, "I thought it would be something novel. It looks perfectly ordinary to me."

"You'll know its merits soon enough."

Heifu inspected it, tested it by stepping on it, then picked up a pottery dipper and poured the unhulled rice inside it all at once into the stone mortar beneath the treadle pestle. He then took another dipper of grain handed to him by his brother-in-law Yuan and poured it into the original pestle-and-mortar used for husking.

After that, he picked up the wooden pestle and said to Jing, "Jing, come over here. Let's have a contest — who can husk more grain in the same amount of time."

"Second Brother, don't joke around."

Jing shook his head repeatedly and raised his skinny arms. "You're born with great strength, but I'm thin as a rail. There's no way I can husk more than you."

Heifu wouldn't let him off. "You use the treadle pestle, I'll use the pestle and mortar. Let's compete! Eldest Brother, you keep count for us."

Only then did Jing reluctantly come over and stand beside the treadle pestle. Heifu showed him how to work it a few times, and then the two of them each took their side and began husking grain…

Thump, thump, thump, thump…

The sound of grain-pounding rose and fell in their back courtyard, drawing Yang and Yue, who had been playing in the front courtyard, to come running over and watch curiously as their Second Father and Third Father competed.

Heifu gripped the wooden pestle, raised it high, and brought it down heavily into the stone mortar, occasionally sending grains scattering out. At first he husked very fast, but after repeating this for a quarter-hour, he began to sweat…

Jing, on the other hand, looked far more at ease. He only needed to step on the wooden bar at the tail end of the treadle pestle to drive the pestle head up, then lift his leg to release the force, letting the head fall out of balance and crash into the stone mortar, rising and falling over and over.

Zhong stood beside them, winnowing the grain for his two younger brothers. Whenever the grain inside the mortars had gradually shed its husk and turned white, reaching the stage of brown rice, Zhong would scoop it out and put in another batch of dried unhulled rice.

At first, the amount of grain the two husked was about the same. But gradually, on Heifu's side, the tight, rhythmic pounding sound slowed, the tempo growing more and more sluggish. He was getting tired.

On Jing's side, though the force might not have matched the wooden pestle at the start, it won out in endurance. If he got tired, he could simply switch to the other foot and keep husking, so his rhythm never changed much.

And so, after over half a shichen had passed, Heifu's arms had gone soft and numb, and he could pound no more, while Jing could still switch feet and continue…

"Well?" Heifu set down the heavy wooden pestle, feeling as though his arms no longer belonged to him, his forehead drenched in sweat. Jing, apart from slightly numb feet and a mildly sore back, was neither red in the face nor short of breath.

Zhong counted the grain the two had husked in that half-shchen and said, "Heifu husked four dou of grain. Jing husked five dou of grain…"

"I actually husked more than Second Brother?"

Jing looked at the result with disbelief.

Heifu burst out laughing. "Just as I thought. Compared to the wooden pestle, using the treadle pestle to husk grain is far less tiring — you can keep going and going. Once I grew weary and couldn't pound anymore, naturally you ended up husking more. The treadle pestle is indeed more efficient than the pestle and mortar. With such a huge gap in our physiques, you could still out-husk me. If it were two women of similar height and strength competing, the difference would be even more obvious."

The greatest distinction between humans and animals is that humans use tools, and constantly improve them. Productivity is raised bit by bit in just this way — except Heifu had accomplished in a single day what would have taken farmers a hundred years of trial and error to achieve.

One who borrows a carriage and horses does not have faster feet, yet can travel a thousand li; one who borrows a boat and oars does not know how to swim, yet can cross rivers and seas. A gentleman is by birth no different from others; he is simply good at borrowing from things — that is the principle. With the treadle pestle, even a scrawny youth could husk enough grain to feed over ten people, with an efficiency no less than that of an eight-chi-tall giant.

Heifu tossed the wooden pestle aside and clapped Jing on the shoulder. "Do you believe it now? Still going to say this thing is useless?"

"This thing is incredibly useful!" Jing was now thoroughly and completely convinced.

Just then, Mother and Eldest Sister-in-law came over as well, marveling at the treadle pestle.

Sister-in-law Kui tried out the treadle pestle and, for once, broke into a smile. She said that if she could use this thing to husk grain from now on, husking the family's daily grain ration each day would probably save a great deal of time! More importantly, it wouldn't tire her out easily. During the busy farming season, they could even have six-year-old Yang sit on the wooden bar of the treadle pestle and still husk out brown rice…

Mother sighed and said, "If only we'd had this thing years ago, this old woman's arms wouldn't have been ruined…"

For a time, the whole family was utterly taken with the treadle pestle. Everyone wanted to go up and try it, all the while praising Heifu's idea to the skies.

Heifu, however, deflected the credit to Yuan. "It's all thanks to Brother-in-law's superb craftsmanship. He made exactly what I wanted, true to the very last detail! Remarkable!"

Yuan gave a simple, honest smile. Heifu seized the moment to invite him. "I was away on corvée duty during New Year's, so the whole family couldn't reunite for the holiday. Tomorrow is the Winter Solstice — no matter what, we must share a meal together. Brother-in-law, Elder Sister, both of you come over tomorrow."

After Yuan agreed, Heifu patted the treadle pestle again and thought smugly to himself, "Everything is ready, and the east wind has arrived. With this fine husking tool, I can now make that thing."

The moment he thought of the delicious food he would soon be able to eat, he was beside himself with joy. He scooped up his nephew and niece, who had been watching the excitement nearby, one in each arm, planted a kiss on each of the little brats' cheeks, and laughed. "Tomorrow, you two will follow your Second Father and have a feast for your bellies!"

(End of Chapter)