Chapter 281: What to Bring as a Meeting Gift?
Chapter 277 of "The Great Ming in the Box" starts with unexpected events: Song Yingxing ate a bowl of rice noodles and felt invigorated.After a journey filled with... Find out more!
Song Yingxing ate a bowl of rice noodles and felt invigorated.After a journey filled with dried rations and northern dishes he couldnât adapt to, finding southern-style rice noodles here in Gaojia Village was utterly moving.
He was, for a moment, struck by a surge of sentimentality!
Just then, a mother and son entered the rice noodle shopâGao San Niang and Gao Sanwa. They sat at a table next to Song Yingxing and ordered two bowls of noodles.
Gao Laba served them and, instead of returning to the counter, settled beside Gao Sanwa. âSanwa, youâre just in time. Could you help Uncle Laba calculate the accounts for the past three days?â
Gao Sanwa smiled and replied, âSure, no problem.â
Gao Laba presented his account bookâa tangled mess. He couldnât read or write; he recorded transactions solely through drawings. A single noodle bowl sold was a circle âď¸, two bowls were two circles ââď¸. A grain of rice purchased was an oval âŻ, a bundle of bamboo chopsticks was a series of lines â â â â.
As soon as the account book was laid out, Song Yingxing inhaled sharply beside them: How could anyone make sense of these scribbles?
He watched Gao Sanwa pick up a pen and begin jotting down calculations on paperâaddition, subtraction, multiplication, and division. In no time, the boy announced, âUncle Laba, your expenditures over the past few days totaled one thousand five hundred thirty-two wen coins. Your income was three thousand two hundred thirty-two wen coins. That means your profit is one thousand seven hundred wen.â
Song Yingxing thought, â!!!â
He stole a glance at the boyâs paper. It was covered in symbols he couldnât comprehend.
Song Yingxing frowned. First, in the county town, some child had baffled him with physics. Now, in Gaojia Village, another boy was flaunting advanced arithmetic. This place made the pressure feel enormous!
Early in the morning the next day, Song Yingxing was roused from his plastic bed by a loud âclunking soundâ outside. He stretched, got up, and opened the window to witness an enormous, garishly colored giant train rumbling into the distance.
Song Yingxing thought, â!!!â
Two servants burst in from an adjacent room, panic-stricken. âMaster, Master! A strange, giant machine passed by, making weird noises. It was terrifying!â
Song Yingxing snapped, âCalm down! It must be some special device built in Gaojia Village. Weâll study it graduallyâweâll uncover its principles.â
The servants forced themselves to settle.
Song Yingxing mused, âToday, I visit the school to request some books⌠but what should I bring as a meeting gift?â
The servants replied helplessly, âWeâve nearly exhausted our travel funds along the way. We lack any respectable gift.â
Song Yingxing furrowed his brow in thought.
The three descended the stairs. Song Yingxing sought directions to the school and noticed a fabric shop next door. He stepped insideâ
And paused. The shopkeeper, oddly enough, was a young woman.
She wasnât strikingly beautiful but possessed a gentle refinementânotably unlike a rural farmwife. Clearly educated, yet utterly unruffled, unlike the demure daughters of official families. She greeted Song Yingxing candidly, âMay I help you, sir? We carry quality cotton cloth and ready-made cotton clothes. We also offer tailoring to your measurements. Prices are very reasonable!â
Song Yingxing privately wondered: Why does she give me an impression of a brothel girl?
Heâd guessed correctly. This woman, Chunhong (a classic brothel name), was one of four brothel girls âbought outrightâ by Li Daoxuan. Assigned by Gao Yiye, she managed the fabric shop in Gaojia Village.
The shop was a cooperative founded by the village women. Previously mired in disorganization, it now flourished under Chunhongâs managementâbusiness boomed, accounts were orderly, everything ran smoothly.
The women bought cotton from the village treasury, wove cloth at home, and sold it at the shop. They also provided tailoring services, measuring customers for custom clothes. Their incomes surged considerably, boosting their influence within their households.
Song Yingxing said, âApologies. Iâm not here to buy clothes. I wondered if you could tell me the way to the school?â
Chunhong smiled, âThe school? Head this direction⌠Youâll see an enormous five-story building with bright white walls. Thatâs itâimpossible to miss.â
Song Yingxing said, âThank you, young lady.â
He turned to leave just as another woman entered the shopâthe woman heâd glimpsed at the noodle shop last night, Gao San Niang. Behind her, two laborers carried a battered weaving machine.
She hurried over to Chunhong. âShopkeeper Chun, terrible news! My weaving machine broke. I brought itâcan someone look at it? Can it be fixed?â
Chunhong answered reassuringly, âThatâs simple. Iâll send word to the artisansâ well to fetch a woodworkerââ
As they spoke, Song Yingxing darted suddenly to the loomâs side. He examined it left and right, then shook his head decisively. âThis weaving machine is obsolete. Not worth repairing.â He addressed Gao San Niang, âMadam, you donât strike me as impoverished. Why not commission a new machine?â
Gao San Niang blinked. âA new one?â
Song Yingxing nodded emphatically. âThis style is inefficient. Jiangnan no longer uses these. Hereââ He promptly pulled out paper and pen. âIâll sketch a new, modern design. Take it to your woodworker.â
Right there, he began drawingâ
Gao San Niang and Chunhong stared, bewildered. What kind of master is this? Sketching a weaving machine design on the spot? Was he just boasting?
But Song Yingxing was not bragging.
He was genuinely formidable.
Heâd memorized every component of Jiangnanâs latest weaving machines. Drafting one was effortless. Swift, precise strokes soon brought the advanced loom to life on paper. Rice paper couldnât capture intricate details, though. Explanatory notes were necessaryâa bit tedious.
He blew the ink dry and handed Gao San Niang the drawing. âShow this to the woodworker. If he has questions, tell him to find me. Once built, if you struggle to operate it, come find me too.â
Gao San Niang carefully took the paper, baffled. Who is this man? Can I trust him?
A sudden confidence straightened Song Yingxingâs posture. My dilemma about the school gift is solved. Gift my knowledge. Offer what I know to gain knowledge I lack. A fair exchange. Perfect.
He drew himself up to full height, radiating newfound assurance. To the schoolâproceed!