“Let go of me!”
Qing Mulam flung Man Cang away in one motion: “Look at you, all thick-headed and dopey. When did you learn to get handsy? Be careful, or I’ll go back and tell Liang Ge. See if he doesn’t thrash you to death!”
“Miss Mulam, forgive me. I was too hasty just now!”
Man Cang hurried to apologise, then asked again: “By the way, Miss Mulam, what did you just say?”
“The sir wants to take Zhou Jin as his disciple. The apprenticeship ceremony will be held tomorrow. I’m here now to ask if you are willing to take the sir as your master too,” Qing Mulam said.
No sooner had she spoken than Man Cang nodded repeatedly without a moment’s hesitation: “Of course I am willing!”
From the time he had started learning blacksmithing by following Jin Feng, Man Cang had wanted to take Jin Feng as his master.
Later, as Jin Feng displayed more and more talents, Man Cang’s desire to become his disciple grew ever stronger.
He had the same misgivings as Jin Feng though. He felt himself too old. Moreover, his sister-in-law was Guan Xiaorou’s own cousin, which had always made it impossible for him to speak up.
Now that Jin Feng was taking disciples of his own accord, Man Cang naturally would not miss the chance.
“Very well then. Don’t forget to come to the apprenticeship ceremony tomorrow.”
For Jin Feng, whether Man Cang agreed to become a disciple or not made no difference at all.
If not a disciple, he would still teach what ought to be taught.
If a disciple, he would not teach what ought not to be taught.
“Don’t worry, Master. I definitely won’t forget.”
Man Cang switched straight away to calling him Master.
“You need not call me Master. It feels too awkward. Call me sir instead, or Gold Family Brother as before.”
“Then I shall call you sir.”
“Fair enough,” Jin Feng nodded. “I am off. You should head back soon and get some rest.”
“No hurry. I will finish polishing this knife before I go.”
“As you like.”
Jin Feng waved a hand and left the smelting workshop with Qing Mulam.
From behind came the renewed clang and clatter of blacksmithing.
Back home, Guan Xiaorou and Run Niang had already tidied Zhou Jin’s room. The three of them were huddled in there, chattering away about goodness knows what. Jin Feng could not be bothered to listen. He went straight back to bed, not even knowing when Guan Xiaorou had returned.
In Jin Feng’s mind, whether apprenticeship or the so-called ceremony, it was all just a formality. Zhou Jin and Man Cang would come to the house to serve tea. He would drink it, and that would be that.
The next day, however, he was taken aback by the spectacle that Tang Dongdong and Qing Mulam had arranged.
Tang Dongdong had people erect a large stage at the threshing ground by the village entrance. She had also told the night shift not to head home after work, but to join the day shift in witnessing Jin Feng take his disciples.
Qing Mulam had brought along all the veteran soldiers and the women soldiers too.
That might have been tolerable, but Tang Dongdong had also summoned the two village heads.
Jin Feng could now be called the God of Wealth for both villages. Who would dare refuse to show face when they heard he was taking disciples?
Almost everyone from Xihe Bay and Guan Family Village turned up. The vast threshing ground was packed solid, people everywhere.
“Is all this really necessary?”
Jin Feng stared at the organiser, Tang Dongdong, with a face full of black lines.
“You are taking disciples so seldom. Everyone comes to bear witness. It makes things lively, does it not?”
Tang Dongdong replied with a smile.
Jin Feng shot her a speechless glance.
In truth, Jin Feng understood Tang Dongdong’s little scheme. It was nothing more than a fear that Man Cang and Zhou Jin might run off once they had learned their skills.
With so many people now as witnesses, even if the pair wanted to bolt, they would have to think long and hard about it.
Every era has its constraints. Jin Feng’s thinking transcended this one, yet it was not necessarily correct. If he stubbornly stuck to his guns, he might well fail to adapt.
Take the matter of land, for instance.
In Da Kang, all the land was monopolised by the nobility. Common folk could only tenant for the nobles and gentry, submitting to exploitation. Or they could flee to forsaken backwoods like Xihe Bay, places the nobles and gentry scorned entirely, and struggle to scrape by.
Jin Feng knew full well that the land problem was the root cause of Da Kang’s creeping rot and decline. He knew too how to solve it.
But could he say so?
No!
If he dared declare publicly that the land should be divided among the people, within a month the nobles and gentry would tear him to shreds. Not a scrap of him would remain.
For questions beyond technology then, Jin Feng was content to heed Tang Dongdong’s counsel.
Even if he reckoned apprenticeship a mere formality with no need for such fanfare, since Tang Dongdong had gone ahead with it, Jin Feng would not object. He followed orders meekly and mounted the stage with a straight face.
With so many people in attendance, the ceremony could hardly be skimped.
Recitation of texts, sacrifice to heaven, offering of tea, kowtows, submission of the master post, exhortations…
Not one of the elaborate rites was omitted. The whole apprenticeship ceremony dragged on for more than an hour before it ended.
Perhaps owing to the ceremony, when Jin Feng looked at Man Cang and Zhou Jin again, he truly felt a touch more affinity for them.
From that day forth, two more places appeared at Jin Feng’s family table.
“Dongdong, I recall you saying before that in the city one can buy household slaves, yes?”
Jin Feng took the rice bowl that Zhou Jin offered with both hands and turned to Tang Dongdong.
“Yes. Do you mean to buy some household slaves?”
Tang Dongdong looked up and asked.
“Yes. Have you not always wanted to expand the workshop? Relying just on Man Cang and me, we shall be run off our feet,” Jin Feng said.
The village building work had now settled into a steady rhythm. The new textile mill was in the planning. The veteran soldiers’ training was all but complete. Xihe Bay would soon enter a phase of swift growth. The demand for steel and steel goods would multiply.
Iron smelting was unlike spinning wheels and the like. Even if someone stole the technique, it would be no great loss. Jin Feng could upgrade it casually and continue to outstrip them.
Iron smelting was Jin Feng’s bedrock in Da Kang. Up to now, he had taught it to no one but Man Cang.
When the time came to use steel in great quantities, he and Man Cang alone would drop dead from exhaustion and still not suffice.
Household slaves were the best choice in that case.
Da Kang’s statutes laid it down plainly: slaves, maidservants, and lowly persons stand equal to livestock under the law.
Slaves meant household slaves and menservants. Maidservants meant female servants. Lowly persons meant courtesans and such folk of base status.
The sense of the phrase was that household servants, maidservants, and persons of base status were legally no different from beasts. They belonged to their master’s private chattels. The master might buy, sell, or kill them at will.
Tang Dongdong had spoken before of buying a batch of household slaves to serve Jin Feng as apprentices, trained expressly to make spinning wheels. It was a shame Jin Feng had no money in those days.
Now, after rooting out several bandit lairs in succession, they had reaped no small haul in banknotes alone. With spare cash to hand, Jin Feng’s thoughts turned once more to buying household slaves.
Tang Dongdong had been rushed off her feet every day since taking charge of the textile mill. But when she heard Jin Feng say the slaves were for making spinning wheels, she said at once:
“Jin Chuan is too small. The brokerages there likely have scant skilled hands. I shall sort the mill’s affairs over the next two days. The day after tomorrow, we go to the county city. The brokerages there are substantial. We can choose with care.”
“Count me in one.”
Qing Mulam mumbled indistinctly, a chicken leg in her mouth.
City children could stand a few days in the countryside to unwind. But months on end, and they grew restive.
Qing Mulam was a case in point. She had lingered in Xihe Bay so long that she pined sorely for the city’s bustle.
The women soldiers’ unit kept her there though. She had found no chance to leave.
Now, with a rare outing to the county city in prospect, she would not let it pass.
