The Heir

Сhаpter Sеvеntееn: Fivе Minerals Ink

Аlthоugh Madаm Feng’s pаrting wоrds wеrе muttеrеd, they wеre spoken loudly еnоugh for thе Li familу mеmbеrs tо heаr.

Zhао Shi wаs furiоus, but such mаtters could nоt bе resоlved by arguing оver a fеw unpleаsаnt rеmаrks. Shе соuld only vеnt hеr angеr bу flinging а rag аside.

Nеvеrtheless, this inсidеnt inevitаbly coоled the relаtiоnshiр betwеen the two fаmiliеs.

Оld Shoрkеереr Li аnd his granddаughtеr Zhen Niаng, howеver, remаined unfаzеd.

Оne wаs аlrеаdy past siхty, having reachеd the age оf understanding fаte—hоw сould hе be troubled by such trivial grievances?

As for Zhen Niang, having lived two lives, what could possibly weigh on her heart? Having faced death once, her outlook on life had become remarkably broad-minded.

In Zhen Niang’s eyes, Madam Feng was far from clever. Matters like marriage proposals were especially delicate among acquaintances—the more familiar the parties, the less appropriate it was to broach the subject directly. If the proposal were declined, both families would be left in an awkward position.

And now, that was exactly what had happened.

Setting aside these thoughts, Zhen Niang and her grandfather crouched together, discussing and calculating the proportions for the ingredients of the finest lacquer smoke ink. They debated how much tung oil to use, the ratio of raw lacquer, and the amount of lard needed.

Only with the right blend of oils could the highest-grade lacquer smoke be produced.

Fortunately, the earlier sale of tung oil smoke had earned them some money—otherwise, they wouldn’t even have the funds to purchase lard now.

Thinking of the tung oil smoke, Zhen Niang recalled the prior agreement with Third Grandfather Cheng and the young master of the Luo family to deliver tung oil for smoke generation.

She glanced up at the sky. Through the city gate tunnel, only a sliver of grayish sky was visible—it was likely already evening.

"Mother, did the Cheng and Luo families not deliver any tung oil today?" Zhen Niang asked Zhao Shi, who was busy nearby.

"No. You silly girl, do you really think you’re that important? What kind of families are the Chengs and Luos? Why would they go out of their way to deliver tung oil? Who cares about the little smoke you produce? Do you really think the Cheng and Luo families can’t produce it themselves?" Zhao Shi, already simmering with anger, spoke sharply.

Zhen Niang was momentarily taken aback by her mother’s words, then chuckled wryly.

"The Cheng and Luo families won’t deliver tung oil," Old Shopkeeper Li added, squinting his eyes.

"Yes, I didn’t think it through properly. Tomorrow, I’ll go to the Cheng and Luo families’ Ink Pavilions to collect twenty catties of tung oil each for smoke generation," Zhen Niang nodded.

There was a clear difference between going to collect it oneself and having it delivered.

Going to collect the tung oil herself was a matter of work—to earn money and, in her case, to honor her promise.

If they had delivered it, it would have been an act of showing respect to talent. After all, both families operated large-scale ink workshops with experienced masters skilled in smoke generation. They would hardly go out of their way to deliver tung oil to a young girl like her—doing so would only elevate others’ prestige at the expense of their own.

Even if they disregarded such considerations, it would be difficult to explain to the veteran masters in their own workshops.

Zhen Niang hadn’t considered these points initially, but Zhao Shi, with her simple and straightforward thinking, had inadvertently revealed the truth.

"Indeed, that’s the way it should be. In life, one must never abandon integrity and trustworthiness," Old Shopkeeper Li remarked.

And so, the night passed without further incident.

The next day, Zhen Niang rose early as usual. After completing her daily chores—fetching hot water and tidying the smoke generation tools in the woodshed—she prepared herself and headed to Four Treasures Street. There, she visited the Cheng and Luo families’ Ink Pavilions to collect the tung oil, fulfilling both her promise and the natural course of events.In Huizhou, there are hundreds of ink workshops and thousands of ink artisans. Since the Huizhou prefectural office is located in Shezhou, Four Treasures Street has become a gathering place for the four treasures of the study.

Even merchants from the two capitals often linger here, and various trading firms have branch offices. It can be said that Four Treasures Street is the liveliest market in the area.

Zhen Niang walked leisurely along the way, with Xi Ge'er hopping and skipping behind her, holding a stick and a hemp rope.

Joking aside, forty catties of tung oil was no light weight. Although Zhen Niang possessed the soul of an adult, her current body was only fourteen years old. Due to her family's poverty and some malnutrition, she appeared rather thin and frail, lacking in strength.

Thus, Xi Ge'er had been enlisted to help. Later, the two would have to work together to carry the tung oil home.

Before long, they arrived at Cheng Family Ink Pavilion. Cheng San Yeye was not there, but the shopkeeper was aware of what had happened the day before yesterday. Cheng Wushi, the shopkeeper of Cheng Family Ink Pavilion, upon hearing that Zhen Niang had come to collect tung oil for smoke generation, asked her to wait a moment and instructed a clerk to weigh the tung oil in the backyard.

As for whether Zhen Niang could produce superior-grade smoke material, Shopkeeper Cheng had no doubts. In his view, the one behind the smoke generation must be Old Shopkeeper Li Jinshui.

Given Old Shopkeeper Li's prior vow, it was only natural for him to have his granddaughter step forward now.

And with Li Jinshui's skill, producing superior-grade smoke material should not be a problem.

"Miss Zhen, is Old Shopkeeper Li still in good health?" Shopkeeper Cheng asked with a smile.

"Fairly well," Zhen Niang replied, rising to return the courtesy.

The two engaged in casual conversation.

Just then, a scholar in his thirties, dressed in wide-sleeved robes, hurried in. As soon as he entered, he slapped a piece of Fang ink onto the counter. "Shopkeeper Cheng, your Cheng Family Ink Pavilion is truly unprincipled! I spent a fortune on this Fang Wusan ink, only to find its quality terribly poor. You must give me an explanation."

"It's Mr. Dongtu! Please come to the private room for some tea. Let's discuss this matter slowly," Shopkeeper Cheng said respectfully upon seeing the scholar, eager to invite him to sit in the private room.

Mr. Dongtu's surname was Zhan. He was a scholar himself, but his family had a long tradition of painting and calligraphy. He had begun learning painting from his elder brother at the age of four and had already gained some fame in the art world. Whenever ink workshops produced new ink, they would spend heavily to invite him to test it.

Zhan Dongtu left some impression on Zhen Niang, mainly because in her previous life, her grandfather had studied Huizhou ink. Calligraphy, painting, carving, and ink-making were all interconnected. Without calligraphy, painting, or carving, ink would merely be a tool for writing, far from being considered art.

As for Zhan Dongtu, he not only achieved considerable success in painting but also displayed a wild and unrestrained style in calligraphy, taking Huaisu as his teacher and emphasizing artistic conception over rigid technique.

At this moment, however, Mr. Dongtu was in no mood for tea. Instead, he called over a clerk, brought out his own inkstone, and began grinding the ink on the spot. Only then did Zhen Niang notice that the ground ink produced bubbles—quite a few of them.

This was clearly problematic, though it was hard to say whether the ink itself was of poor quality. Sometimes, if the inkstone was inferior and the grinding uneven, bubbles could also appear.

"Mr. Dongtu, our Cheng Family has built its reputation over generations. Every piece of ink we sell undergoes inspection. Given the current situation, could it be that there is an issue with your inkstone?" Shopkeeper Cheng said somewhat awkwardly.

This matter concerned the ink workshop's reputation and had to be clarified."How could this be? This is an old pit Duan inkstone from the Song Dynasty, once collected by Master Zizhan himself—it is no ordinary piece," Mr. Dongtu said with a stern expression.

The so-called Master Zizhan was none other than Su Dongpo.

Zhen Niang examined the inkstone and indeed, it was a fine piece. Its patina was warm and lustrous, shaped like a lotus leaf on the outside, while the inner crimson-red veining resembled a lotus flower. It was a crimson-purple Duan inkstone.

"How about trying it with our inkstone?" Shopkeeper Cheng insisted, refusing to let the matter go.

"Very well," Mr. Dongtu nodded. Since they were all locals and the Cheng Family had always maintained a good reputation, Mr. Dongtu saw no reason to make things difficult for him.

"Go, fetch the Golden Coin Duan inkstone from the study," Shopkeeper Cheng quickly instructed an assistant nearby.

Soon, the assistant carefully brought over the inkstone. Zhen Niang observed several dark copper coin patterns on its surface, the entire stone exuding the warm, jade-like glow of purple jade. It was yet another fine inkstone.

After dripping a few drops of water onto the inkstone, Shopkeeper Cheng slowly began grinding the ink.

"Oh no, bubbles are forming again," he exclaimed before long, as tiny, connected bubbles appeared in the ink on the inkstone. Even Shopkeeper Cheng had nothing more to say.

"How could this happen? This ink is genuinely good, made with the finest ingredients by our workshop's master craftsman. We even added Wushi Powder to it, which is supposed to invigorate the mind and inspire creativity while writing," Shopkeeper Cheng muttered to himself.

Wushi Powder? Zhen Niang was momentarily puzzled, but then she understood. Separately, there was nothing wrong with the inkstone or the ink. Yet when the two were combined, the problem emerged.

……………………