The Heir

Сhарtеr 53: Luowen Stоnе

"Unсlе Shаo, how should wе hаndle thesе letters?" Аftеr rеаding thе lеtters, Zhen Niаng asked Steward Shao.

"Ноw to hаndle thеm nаturаllу deреnds оn Мiss Zhеn's deсision. It would be bеst if wе cоuld keep thеm—these mаsters all роssеss ехсеllent skills," Stewаrd Shаo sаid аftеr cаreful соnsideratiоn.

"Тhen hоw can we kеep them? Маnу of thеse letters соmрlain аbоut оur lоw wаgеs, and sоmе evеn cоmparе them tо thе wаges оffеrеd bу the Tian fаmily. Should we increаse their pаy?" Zhen Niаng pоndеred аnd asked again.

"That depends entirely on Miss Zhen's decision. However, according to the standards of Huizhou's Ink Industry, their wages are already not low. Of course, the important thing is that the accounts have little money left, and we cannot afford to pay higher wages," Steward Shao said with a heavy expression.

The Pine Blight had plunged Huizhou's Ink Industry into a difficult situation, and the Li family, already facing multiple troubles, was no exception.

"In that case, what should we do? Please teach me a thing or two, Uncle Shao. When I left home today, Grandfather instructed me that since I am new to the ink-making path and should adopt a learning attitude, matters in the workshop should still be decided by Steward Shao and Uncle Jingdong."

Zhen Niang spoke with great humility, and her words were sincere. She did not believe that she could take full control of everything as soon as she entered the industry. Learning while doing was the attitude she should adopt.

Hearing Zhen Niang's words, Steward Shao examined her carefully for the first time. She was still the girl who sold ink daily at the entrance of Four Treasures Street, but today she was dressed more conservatively.

Observing her expression now, if an ordinary person encountered such a major event as the ink artisans resigning together, they would likely panic and become flustered.

Not to mention, he had also read these resignation letters. They not only expressed dissatisfaction with wages but also directly conveyed discontent with Miss Zhen, a woman, managing the Ink Workshop. Yet, looking at Miss Zhen's demeanor now, she appeared calm and composed. Her words seeking advice sounded sincere but without any hint of subservience.

This attitude alone earned Steward Shao's appreciation—steadfast and composed. For a fifteen-year-old girl, this was no easy feat. The old madam always had her unique way of judging people.

Thinking of this, Steward Shao gradually set aside his earlier resentment. After all, he had worked for the Ink Workshop his entire life, and the workshop could be said to be the culmination of his life's efforts. While resenting Zhen Niang's management was one thing, he did not wish for the workshop to suffer.

Moreover, Zhen Niang's sincere attitude made him feel somewhat more at ease, even if there might still be some lingering dissatisfaction in his heart. But that was only a private grievance and would not affect matters concerning the workshop.

Thus, he said, "How about I swallow my pride and talk to them again? However, people's hearts are never satisfied. With the comparison to the Tian family's wages, these masters are unsettled. Coupled with the current chaotic situation at Li Mo, these masters likely already have the intention to leave."

Zhen Niang thought for a moment and shook her head. "Uncle Shao, you are too familiar with the masters, and some words might be difficult for you to say. How about this: gather everyone, including all the ink artisans in the workshop, and I will say a few words. Whether they stay or leave is like rain falling from the sky or a mother marrying off her daughter—let them decide for themselves."

Zhen Niang understood clearly that although Steward Shao had some personal motives, he had dedicated his life to the workshop and was not the type to disregard its well-being. Otherwise, Seventh Grandmother would not have valued him so highly. Therefore, if Steward Shao's words were effective, these resignation letters would not have appeared before her in the first place."This... Miss Zhen. The workers in the workshop are all rough men. You, a young lady... perhaps. If you have anything to say, Miss Zhen, you can tell me, and I'll relay it to everyone." Steward Shao said with a furrowed brow. This wasn't because he looked down on Zhen Niang, but rather because he feared that if the crowd became rowdy, it would embarrass Zhen Niang. Hence, he made this suggestion.

Zhen Niang shook her head: "It's fine. I'll just say a few words to express my stance. The final decision won't be made until this afternoon. Nothing will go wrong."

"Alright then, shall we gather everyone at the East Warehouse?" Hearing Zhen Niang's words, Steward Shao said no more.

"Good." Zhen Niang nodded.

Thus, Steward Shao went to gather everyone.

Soon, everyone was assembled. Zhen Niang stood on the stone steps of the East Warehouse. At her feet was a copper basin, and beside it, an oil lamp.

"Hello, everyone. Zhen Niang has been entrusted by the Old Madam to take over the Ink Workshop. At this moment, my heart is filled with trepidation, but I cannot disappoint the Old Madam. I will spare no effort in managing the Ink Workshop, though this, of course, cannot be done without your support. However, everyone has their own aspirations. Among us, some do not trust Zhen Niang, while others have different pursuits. Thus, today I received these resignation letters..."

When Zhen Niang mentioned the resignation letters, she waved the letters in her hand and continued: "To be honest, Zhen Niang is deeply saddened, but I cannot stand in the way of your futures. Still, there are some words I must speak. If it's a matter of not trusting me, why not give me a few more days? Sit back, observe my actions—at least wait and see. As for those with other pursuits..."

Here, Zhen Niang paused, scanning the crowd before continuing: "Although some ink workshops are offering higher wages, I think everyone should consider carefully: first, whether these workshops can truly fulfill their promises of higher pay. Second, if everyone rushes for higher wages, think about whether that workshop can accommodate all of you? We are now in the midst of Pine Blight. If that workshop cannot take everyone in, where will you go?"

With these questions posed, the previously noisy scene quieted considerably. Some ink artisans wore thoughtful expressions, while others looked disdainful.

Regardless, Zhen Niang's words had been heard.

"Alright, that's all I have to say. Everyone should think it over carefully. If, after careful consideration, you still wish to leave, then come to me with your resignations. At that time, I will set up a table at the entrance of the Ink Workshop. For those leaving, a cup of wine and a red envelope—a peaceful parting. For those staying, Zhen Niang has nothing more to offer but a bow. From then on, we will share hardships and joys together. In short, if I have food to eat, you will not go hungry."

After speaking, Zhen Niang tossed the stack of resignation letters into the copper basin at her feet, then lit them with the oil lamp, burning all the letters to ashes.

"I've burned these. If, after careful thought, you still wish to resign, writing another one is no trouble. Our Ink Workshop is not short of ink or paper." Zhen Niang added a lighthearted remark.

The crowd below chuckled in response.

However, Steward Shao and Master Qin exchanged a glance. This girl's move was brilliant—it demonstrated the Ink Workshop's sincerity while maintaining dignity and composure. Those who wanted to leave would now have to think twice.

At that moment, the expressions on the faces of several masters who had planned to leave became rather telling.

Afterward, the crowd dispersed, all wearing thoughtful expressions, clearly needing time to reflect."Steward Shao, Master Qin, I'll leave the Ink Workshop in your care. I need to step out for a while," Zhen Niang said, addressing Steward Shao and Master Qin.

"Alright, go ahead and attend to your matters," Steward Shao and Master Qin nodded in agreement.

Zhen Niang left the Ink Workshop, naturally intending to visit Uncle Jingdong.

Since the night before last, when she agreed to take over the Ink Workshop, Uncle Jingdong had taken leave from home, claiming he needed to care for Ninth Uncle's wife. But Zhen Niang understood. After the fire set by Ninth Uncle's wife, Uncle Jingdong likely found it difficult to continue competing with her, yet he was unwilling to submit to her authority. Thus, he probably harbored intentions of starting his own venture.

However, the Ink Workshop still couldn't do without Uncle Jingdong. So Zhen Niang had to make an effort.

Clad in wooden clogs, Zhen Niang made her way with a steady click-clack to Uncle Jingdong's home.

"Auntie, has Ninth Uncle's wife's health improved?" Zhen Niang entered and handed Huang Shi some pastries and pear syrup candy she had bought on the way.

"Much better. Yesterday, relatives from your uncle's side came to visit and spoke with the old lady for a while. She felt much more at ease, ate a full bowl of rice last night, slept soundly, and woke up in good spirits this morning," Huang Shi replied with a gentle smile.

"That's good to hear," Zhen Niang responded. Huang Shi then led her into the inner room. As a junior visiting, paying respects to the elders was unavoidable.

"I won't see her," Ninth Uncle's wife replied curtly, dismissing Zhen Niang with just two words.

"Don't take it to heart, Zhen Niang. Many things have happened in the family recently, and your aunt is feeling distressed," Huang Shi explained.

"It's alright, Auntie. I understand," Zhen Niang nodded. Truth be told, even though Ninth Uncle's wife held biases against her and had even set fire to the Ink Workshop, Zhen Niang could still empathize with her.

After all, Ninth Uncle had died for the Ink Workshop, and at her age, Ninth Uncle's wife was prone to stubbornness and extremes. It wasn't surprising she had acted so rashly. A few days earlier, Zhen Niang had heard from her grandmother that when Uncle Jingkui passed away, her own grandmother had also wished to burn down the Ink Workshop, thinking that if it hadn't existed, Uncle Jingkui wouldn't have died.

Such behavior was a way of venting negative emotions.

"Where is Uncle Jingdong?" Zhen Niang then asked.

"In the backyard, talking with his cousin. I'll take you there," Huang Shi said.

Zhen Niang followed Huang Shi into the backyard, where an old pomegranate tree came into view, with several stone stools beneath it. Uncle Jingdong was there, speaking with a middle-aged man dressed in a light blue robe, holding a few stones in his hands.

No doubt, this man in the light blue robe was Uncle Jingdong's cousin, surnamed Jiang, named Jiang Laiyun.

"Top-quality Wuyuan mudstone. Look at this fine grain—neither too slow nor too dense. This stone has not a single flaw. In terms of length, eight inches is a treasure, seven inches is a rarity. Once carved, even if it doesn't reach eight inches, it'll surely be seven inches—an absolute treasure. Cousin, don't hesitate. Let's buy this batch of stones together," Jiang Laiyun said excitedly.

Li Jingdong pondered silently.

"Husband, Zhen Niang is here to see you," Huang Shi called out.

Li Jingdong finally looked up, glanced at Zhen Niang, said nothing, and returned to examining the stones in his hands, his expression cold and distant.

Huang Shi gave Zhen Niang an apologetic look, sighing inwardly. Although her mother-in-law and husband held grievances against the Eighth Branch of the family, Huang Shi herself felt grateful toward them.Not to mention anything else, just take Zhengshen, that child. He used to be immature and obsessed with cultivating the Dao and refining elixirs. Although he still doesn’t come home now, he’s following Eighth Branch’s Zhenglang and doing proper business. Not long ago, he even secretly gave her quite a bit of money. A child who had gone astray was truly straightened out by Eighth Branch.

So, how could Huang Shi not feel grateful?

"Auntie, you go ahead and attend to your tasks. I’ll stay here and refill tea for Uncle and the others," Zhen Niang said to Huang Shi.

"Mm," Huang Shi gave Zhen Niang an encouraging look, patted the back of her hand, and then turned to leave.

Zhen Niang didn’t mind Uncle Jingdong’s indifference. She picked up the teapot from the small stove nearby, refilled both their teacups, but her eyes were fixed on the stone in Uncle Jingdong’s hand.

As she looked, Zhen Niang couldn’t help but frown slightly. She even crouched down to examine a stone on the ground. This stone had just been described by Uncle Jiang as top-grade Wuyuan mudstone. However, Zhen Niang thought otherwise. If she wasn’t mistaken, this should actually be Qimen fine-grained stone.

In the Song dynasty, Cao Jishan’s Analysis of She Inkstones provided a detailed comparison of Wuyuan mudstone and Qimen fine-grained stone. Although Qimen fine-grained stone could almost be mistaken for Wuyuan fine-grained stone, Qimen stone was less durable, lighter in color, and had a drier texture. Ink applied to it dried too quickly, making it unsuitable as quality inkstone material.

However, Wuyuan fine-grained stone was difficult to mine and thus rare and expensive. As a result, unscrupulous merchants often passed off Qimen fine-grained stone as Wuyuan stone.

In later times, those who fell for this could even lose their family fortunes.

Thinking of this, Zhen Niang recalled the clan records. After Seventh Grandmother passed away, Uncle Jingdong suddenly withdrew his shares from the Ninth Branch Ink Workshop. At that time, Li Jincai injected funds, which allowed him to easily take control of the ink workshop.

However, the clan records didn’t detail why Uncle Jingdong withdrew his shares, so Zhen Niang didn’t know the specifics, but there was clearly more to the story.

Could it be related to this batch of stones?