The Heir

Сhарtеr 50: Sudden News оf Мisfоrtunе

Zhеn Niang was obliviоus tо the cоnversatiоn bеtwееn hеr grаndmother аnd mother outside. Her аttеntion wаs fixеd sоlеlу on thе wооdеn bоx bеfore her.

Аdоrned with silvеr lines tracеd over rеd lacquеr, it арреаrеd quite eхquisitе, yеt thе sоmewhаt pееling lacquеr rеveаled the boх’s age.

Thе bох was nоt locked, mеrеlу fastеnеd with а сорpеr сlasр. Cаrefully рulling oреn thе clаsр, Zhеn Niаng lifted the lid to find thе interior divided into sevеral comрartments, еaсh nеatlу arranged with several inksticks.

Staring at these inksticks, Zhen Niang was momentarily stunned. She recognized them all as her own work. She was certain these must have been purchased from her by that Ma Sao.

Picking up one inkstick, she noticed a sheet of paper tucked beneath it. The paper was folded, and when spread out, it was about as wide as three inksticks placed side by side.

The paper was densely covered in delicate plum-blossom-style calligraphy.

The area near the city gate tunnel was dimly lit, especially since Zhen Niang was hiding indoors. Even though it was just past noon, the room was as dusky as twilight, making the characters on the paper difficult to discern.

Zhen Niang rose again to light an oil lamp, then held the paper close to its flame.

The densely written characters were all analyses and appraisals of the ink. They pointed out various shortcomings—from the soot pigment to the blending ratios, the firing temperature, the pounding process, and so on—and proposed solutions to these issues.

From these analyses, Zhen Niang saw many deficiencies in her own ink-making.

Her lips pressed tightly together. She then picked up the other inksticks to examine. Sure enough, beneath each one lay a similar appraisal sheet.

Zhen Niang read through them one by one. With these critiques and guidance, her ink-making technique would undoubtedly advance to a higher level.

To compile all this, Seventh Grandmother must have expended immense effort. It was impossible for Zhen Niang not to feel deeply moved.

Suddenly, Zhen Niang recalled that many of these issues had been pointed out to her by her grandfather some time ago, and she had corrected them accordingly, though not as comprehensively as presented here.

With this thought, she snapped the wooden box shut, opened the door, and dashed out of the room.

"Grandfather, when you gave me feedback on the ink I made each time, was it Seventh Grandmother who told you what to say?" Zhen Niang asked as she approached Old Shopkeeper Li, who was sitting on a wooden stool in the courtyard, occasionally scattering a few grains of rice to attract a brood of chicks clustering around his feet.

"Come, sit," Old Shopkeeper Li patted a small stool beside him.

Zhen Niang sat down.

"That’s right. Your Seventh Grandmother is a first-rate appraiser of ink. Ever since you discovered the Tang Dynasty Longbin ink at your Sixth Grandfather’s house last time, she said you have a natural talent for ink appraisal. Originally, when you presented that soot pigment formula earlier, she wanted to bring you into the Ink Workshop to mentor you. But the situation in the workshop is complicated, and with your Ninth Uncle always wary of me, she feared that entering the workshop might restrict you, confining you to a single shed or area, preventing well-rounded development. So she ultimately abandoned that idea. Instead, she asked me to focus on teaching you, while she passed on her knowledge through me. Your Seventh Grandmother holds you in very high regard."

Old Shopkeeper Li paused here before continuing, "All my ink craft comes from the Ink Workshop. Since I’ve already withdrawn from the Ink Industry, without your Seventh Grandmother’s consent, I couldn’t teach you certain matters related to formulas. Also, those ink molds I gave you, as well as the carving plates, were all provided by your Seventh Grandmother. The ones I had from back then were long ago burned by your grandmother.""Seventh Grandmother truly put a lot of thought into Zhen Niang." Hearing her grandfather say these things, Zhen Niang felt quite moved in her heart. What virtue or ability did she possess to deserve such treatment from Seventh Grandmother?

"It's good that you know," said Old Shopkeeper Li.

"But I still don't understand why Seventh Grandmother is doing this now. Although I have some talent for making ink, managing an Ink Workshop isn't just about having talent in ink-making. Connections, leadership ability, authority—I have none of these. And I'm also a woman..."

Although Zhen Niang never believed women were incapable, this was the Great Ming Dynasty. This was the reality of the times, and it couldn't be ignored.

"Not to mention that Uncle Jingdong and Steward Shao wouldn't accept me, even the workers below would certainly not obey me. Wouldn't she be afraid the Ink Workshop would fall apart then?"

"You only see the disadvantages of you inheriting the Ink Workshop. Why don't you see the advantages?" Old Shopkeeper Li asked.

"Hmm? Advantages?" Zhen Niang rubbed her forehead. She really couldn't think of any advantages.

"First, once your Seventh Grandmother passes away, Steward Shao and your Uncle Jingdong will have no buffer between them. The result of their conflict will either be Steward Shao leaving the Ink Workshop, or your Uncle Jingdong starting his own business. That's not even the worst part. What's truly feared is that after the two sides fight, the widows and orphans of the main branch will become casualties. How could your Seventh Grandmother rest easy with that?" Old Shopkeeper Li coughed.

Zhen Niang quickly handed him a cup of water, and Old Shopkeeper Li drank some tea.

Zhen Niang then thought about it. What was recorded in the clan register was exactly the situation her grandfather described, though more complicated—that is, Sixth Branch's Uncle-in-law also got involved. Later, neither Steward Shao nor Uncle Jingdong gained any advantage; instead, Sixth Branch's Uncle-in-law benefited.

And indeed, none of the main Seventh Branch ended up well.

In other words, Seventh Grandmother hoped she would be that buffer.

"Second, do you remember that pot-mending craftsman at the city gate arch?" Old Shopkeeper Li spoke again.

Hearing Old Shopkeeper Li's words, Zhen Niang's mind suddenly flashed, recalling the pot-mending theory often mentioned by later generations.

"That Ironhead fellow doesn't do things honestly. When people bring iron pots to mend, he always knocks them carelessly, exaggerating small cracks until they're beyond repair. Then the pot owner has no choice but to buy a pot from him. So, his pots sell especially well. His method is not commendable, but remember there is one situation where it's necessary: when a pot is actually already broken and unusable, but the problem has been hidden all along. Then his method becomes essential," Old Shopkeeper Li said.

"Grandfather means, by passing the Ink Workshop to me, Old Grandmother wants me to be that pot-knocker," Zhen Niang asked. Precisely because no one would accept her, hidden conflicts would easily be exposed.

For example, Sixth Branch's Uncle-in-law—Zhen Niang believed that once news of her inheriting the Ink Workshop spread, he would definitely stir up trouble.

"You're not just the pot-knocker; you also have to recast a pot. The great waves wash away the sand; only after breaking can there be rebuilding. Your Seventh Grandmother's regard for you is truly beyond measure, but this path is also very difficult," Old Shopkeeper Li sighed.

Zhen Niang pursed her lips, deep in thought. Of course she understood how difficult this path was. Otherwise, she wouldn't have hesitated so much.

Just as the grandfather and granddaughter were each lost in their thoughts, the courtyard gate was suddenly slammed open.

Zhen Niang quickly stood up to look. The one who had burst in was her own elder brother.

At this moment, Li Zhenliang's face was pale, his eyes bloodshot.

"Elder Brother, what are you doing? Did you run into a ghost?" Zhen Niang asked in confusion."Exactly, how old are you now, to be so rash and careless? If the door gets broken, won't it cost money to repair?" Zhao Shi said angrily.

"Eldest Brother, what happened?" Du Shi, on the side, asked softly.

"I... my father... my father he..." Li Zhenliang mumbled. Each word seemed to come with great difficulty.

"What about your father? Did he gamble again?" Hearing Li Zhenliang mention his father, Zhao Shi grew anxious. That scoundrel Jingfu was never one to put her mind at ease. Could it be that just as things outside had started to improve, he had fallen back into his old ways and started gambling again? Had debt collectors chased him right to their doorstep?

Zhao Shi’s heart was now filled with both anxiety and anger, churning with unease.

"No, Uncle Huaide has returned. He brought news that around the New Year, my father went with a merchant caravan beyond the pass to buy furs and ginseng. On the way back, they encountered Tatars. The entire caravan was killed by the Tatars." Li Zhenliang choked out the words, then squatted down on the ground, burying his head in his hands and sobbing.

Zhen Niang’s mind went blank at that moment. As for Li Jingfu, at first she had felt no father-daughter affection toward him; instead, she had been angry with him. But ever since Li Jingfu had gone out to work, whenever someone from Huizhou returned, he would entrust them with letters and small gifts—even if just a few candies or some hair ribbons and decorative flowers.

Though these things weren’t valuable, everyone could sense the care behind them. Over time, she had naturally come to accept this father. Now, hearing that something had happened to Li Jingfu, her heart suddenly felt as if it had dropped, as though she had lost something.

Her nose tingled with emotion.

Beside her, Old Shopkeeper Li’s teacup fell to the ground, shattering into pieces.

"You’re lying! They say good people don’t live long, but troublemakers last a thousand years. Your father was a troublemaker—how could he have been killed by Tatars? Are you lying? I’ll beat you, you unfilial son, actually making up stories about your father’s death! I’ll beat you to death..." Zhao Shi gritted her teeth as if gone mad, grabbing a wooden mallet and striking Li Zhenliang with it.

Li Zhenliang let her hit him, not dodging or flinching.

"Mother, stop hitting him, please stop!" Du Shi, heartbroken, quickly pulled at Zhao Shi, and Zheng Shi also helped to hold her back.

Just then, Uncle Huaide from across the street stood outside the door holding a bundle, his face filled with sorrow.

"Huaide, tell Auntie Wu, Jingfu is all right, isn’t he?" At that moment, Wu Shi had already rushed out from inside, her eyes red and swollen, tightly grasping Fang Huaide’s hand as she asked.

"Auntie Wu, please accept my condolences. These are Brother Jingfu’s belongings. I brought them back for him." Fang Huaide said, his own eyes reddening.

"No, I don’t believe it. Jingfu, my son..." Wu Shi’s entire body went limp, collapsing to the ground.

Zhen Niang hurriedly tried to support Wu Shi, but Wu Shi stubbornly remained seated on the ground. Unable to pull her up, Zhen Niang squatted down and held her shoulders tightly. Wu Shi could no longer hold back, weeping mournfully in Zhen Niang’s embrace.

At that moment, Old Shopkeeper Li trembled as he stood up and walked forward to take the bundle from Fang Huaide’s hands. "Huaide, thank you for your trouble."

"Uncle Li, please don’t mention it." Fang Huaide said, his eyes still red, then took two ten-tael silver ingots from his pocket and handed them to Old Shopkeeper Li. "Uncle Li, Brother Jingfu’s employer asked me to bring this to you. The employer said, please don’t think it’s too little—he truly couldn’t come up with more."

Fang Huaide went on to explain, "This time, the employer also suffered heavy losses. He had to sell his warehouse to scrape together this compensation for everyone."

This time, it wasn’t just one person who died, but the entire caravan, and all the mountain goods were lost as well. Li Jingfu’s employer had gone bankrupt."Alright, we understand. The master is a benevolent man." Old Shopkeeper Li said, taking the silver once more.

"Uncle Huaide, what about my father's body?" Zhen Niang asked while supporting Wu Shi.

"Yes, where is Jingfu's body?" At this moment, Zhao Shi also regained her composure. Having endured a lifetime of hardship, after her bout of madness, she now calmed down.

Fang Huaide, however, shook his head helplessly. The entire caravan met its misfortune beyond the pass, in Tartar territory. How could the body be retrieved? By now, it was likely already food for wild dogs.

Shortly after, Fang Huaide took his leave.

Tears welling in her eyes, Zhen Niang looked up at the sky.

Beside her, Zhao Shi wailed and lamented to the heavens, while the family was enveloped in deep sorrow.