Chapter 91 - A Subtle Stirring of the Heart

Chapter 91: Chapter 85: A Subtle Stirring of the HeartZhao Song was very generous. The craftsmen he lent them included not only those skilled in brick firing and wall building but also carpenters.

These carpenters were hard to come by, and even Uncle Cheng was very pleased. Lowering his voice, he said, "It would be great if we could keep them."

Zhao Hanzhang, however, did not want to fight Zhao Song for people at this time. She said, "First, arrange for them to settle in, and pick some smart ones from the manor to help."

You can’t steal people, but you can learn their skills. Such handicrafts are always best if mastered by one’s own people.

Zhao Hanzhang said, "First, understand their temperament. If possible, pay them to take on a few apprentices. Don’t be stingy with money."

"Craftsmanship is the lifeline of an artisan. I’m afraid they won’t be willing to teach."

Zhao Hanzhang said, "Then the money isn’t enough. As long as the pay is good enough, someone will be willing to teach."

"But they might not teach everything."

"I don’t expect them to teach everything. As long as they teach the basics, that’s enough. A master leads you to the door, but cultivation depends on the individual. There are always gifted people in this world who, with effort and research, may surpass their teachers." Zhao Hanzhang was confident about this.

When New China was just established, wasn’t it difficult?

Many things only had a foundation, yet weren’t they gradually caught up?

"Yes," Uncle Cheng said, handing a letter from Zhao Zhongyu to Zhao Hanzhang, "This was sent by Fifth Grandfather. He asks Third Lady not to mind the matter of the Young Master. The two families are closely related by blood. Besides Second Son, Second Granduncle and the Young Master are the closest to you."

Zhao Hanzhang took it and opened the letter directly to read it, "Since Fifth Uncle has said so, Uncle Cheng should also change his address. Uncle has long succeeded the title, and is no longer the Young Master."

In Uncle Cheng’s heart, the Uncle was always Zhao Changyu. Hearing this, he couldn’t help but fall silent, pursed his lips, and after a while nodded, "Yes, would you like to send letters to Second Granduncle and... the new Uncle?"

Zhao Hanzhang nodded, "I will write when I return later. Now that the post stations are cut off, I’m afraid letters cannot be sent out. We also don’t have enough manpower, so after writing the letter, send it back to Xiping, and ask Fifth Uncle to help send it."

"Yes."

"Select a group from the long-term workers in the manor. Let them take some grain to Xiping to help the craftsmen with the summer harvest," Zhao Hanzhang paused, then said, "Tell them that if they do well, there will be a reward when they return. If not, then they don’t need to come back."

Uncle Cheng shivered, "I will definitely keep a close eye on them and make sure they get along well with the clan members."

Zhao Hanzhang nodded satisfactorily.

Uncle Cheng chuckled and asked, "Third Lady, how is Mr. Fu’s brick kiln construction going?"

"It’s already built. Tomorrow we can begin placing bricks inside for firing tests."

Zhao Hanzhang provided the brick kiln construction method from "Heavenly Creations," which was a bit different from the current brick firing methods, but generally the same. The following brick-firing craftsmen inspected the kiln and hesitated, asking, "With this firing method, how many bricks can be fired in one kiln, and how long will it take?"

Fu Tinghan said, "One kiln can fire three thousand bricks, taking one day and night."

Lu Kun pondered, "It’s indeed larger than our current kilns. We can currently only fire a thousand bricks in one kiln. Mr. Fu, can this kiln really fire three thousand bricks?"

Fu Tinghan: ...How should he know if it can?

He calculated it based on the characters Zhao Hanzhang showed him, which clearly said one kiln could fire three thousand bricks.

Fu Tinghan thought it over and, unable to bluff as Zhao Hanzhang did, cautiously said, "Let’s try firing one kiln. If there are defects, we’ll improve it."

Whether it works or not, they’ll know after a firing.

The brick blanks have been prepared.

The mud ground beside them was soaked with water, with people and cattle trampling on it rigorously. The processed mud was placed into molds, and now they could produce quite a number of blank bricks.

All this was trampled and molded over the past two days.

Lu Kun touched the brick blanks, found no problems, and agreed to put them into the brick kiln.

When Zhao Hanzhang arrived, they had already loaded over two thousand. She looked around and, puzzled, asked, "Where is Mr. Fu?"

Just as she spoke, Fu Tinghan bent over and walked out of the kiln. When he looked up and saw Zhao Hanzhang, he gave her a slight smile, "You’re here."

But Zhao Hanzhang looked at his face and couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

Fu Tinghan instinctively reached for his face, asking, "Is it dirty?"

His hand was already soiled with mud, and now it was even dirtier. Zhao Hanzhang couldn’t stop laughing and stepped forward to help wipe the mud off his cheek, "It’s here. I reckon you can’t clean it with your hand; you need to wash your face."

The two were so close that when Fu Tinghan looked down, he could look straight into her eyes. S~eaʀᴄh the Nôvelƒire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Zhao Hanzhang paused in her movements, withdrew her hand, stepped back slightly, and smiled at him, "Professor Fu, how confident are you?"

Fu Tinghan, "I have no experience, entirely theoretical, so fifty percent."

But he had confidence that regardless of success, he could make improvements after one attempt.

The two looked at each other in silence, unable to find a topic to talk about, and fell into an awkward silence.

Uncle Cheng, feeling the strange atmosphere between them, laughed and brought up a topic, "I’ve always heard Third Lady call Mr. Fu ’Professor,’ but as I recall when we were in Luoyang, it was Third Lady teaching Mr. Fu things."

Fu Tinghan looked at Zhao Hanzhang and said, "That’s why I call the lady Teacher Zhao."

Uncle Cheng was startled and quickly said, "How can this be? It’s against decorum."

What if word gets out and people say it’s a teacher-student relationship?

Zhao Hanzhang said, "We are learning from each other."

Uncle Cheng thought for a moment and sighed in relief, "True, a husband teaching his wife and a wife assisting her husband is normal."

Once it aligned with decorum, Uncle Cheng relaxed.

Zhao Hanzhang, however, warned him, "Uncle Cheng..."

Uncle Cheng smiled cheerfully, "I know, Third Lady is shy."

He glanced at Fu Tinghan and laughed heartily, "Third Lady and Mr. Fu, you two should talk, I’ll go check on the others."

Once Uncle Cheng left, the two were silent again, looking at each other.

Zhao Hanzhang coughed lightly and averted her gaze, finding a topic, "I heard from Second Son that you’ve been playing games with him these past two days?"

Fu Tinghan "hummed" and said, "I wanted to assess his intelligence in other areas."

He said, "I tried, and actually his memory isn’t bad. If you repeat ordinary instructions a couple of times, he can remember and execute them. He can understand some complex words, just as long as he’s not forced to recognize characters."

"He can’t read. I suspect he has a reading disorder. Making him recognize characters makes it difficult for him to remember them and affects his emotions, which in turn affects memory."

Zhao Hanzhang pondered, "So, reading not only doesn’t enlighten but affects his memory?"

Fu Tinghan nodded, "Knowledge doesn’t have to be spread only through words; you might try teaching him orally."

Zhao Hanzhang began to think if Mr. Ji would be willing to take on this task.

"He’s quite skilled," Fu Tinghan suddenly said. "Strong too. I asked him what he likes most, and he said he loves horseback riding and hunting. Perhaps you could cultivate this talent."

Zhao Hanzhang looked at him and laughed, "I heard someone say that for the past few evenings, Professor Fu and Second Son have been sparring, and you’ve been thrown a few times."

Her gaze fell on his waist