Chapter 17: Let the World Be As Complicated As It May, I Need Only Three Strokes

Ye Chang waved until his older brother’s figure had disappeared from sight before lowering his hand. Although Brother Ye Shu’s warnings and instructions were not entirely to his liking, the deep affection in those brotherly words was something Ye Chang felt keenly.

Turning to look at Liu Gui, Ye Chang felt an even greater sense of distaste. Perhaps sensing Ye Chang’s displeasure, Liu Gui shrank his neck and walked on tiptoe, careful not to make a sound.

Following Ye Chang into the market district, they went straight to Qin Qinshou’s shop. Seeing Ye Chang arrive, Qin Qinshou was quite surprised. “What brings you here today, Young Master Ye?”

“I came to see my brother off for his conscription, so I took the opportunity to visit you, Shopkeeper Qin. There’s something about the paper workshop I still need to trouble you with. I hope you can help me find a craftsman…”

As he spoke, Ye Chang noticed Liu Gui eavesdropping, his ears pricked up. Frowning slightly, he said, “Liu Gui, go to the street and find out who’s selling chicks and what the prices are.”

It was obviously a pretext to send Liu Gui away. Though Liu Gui cursed inwardly, he had no choice but to leave. However, instead of going far, he circled back and lingered close to the wall outside Qin’s Bamboo Shop.

“I just need a skilled craftsman to try out my papermaking method. He doesn’t need to be particularly talented—just obedient and honest. Shopkeeper Qin, with your connections, you must know someone like that?”

“You flatter me, Young Master Ye. I don’t know any papermakers personally, but since you’ve entrusted this to me, I’ll do my best to find one for you. At the latest, you’ll have a response within ten days. If you want to hire a craftsman, you’ll need to draw up a contract so I can recruit on your behalf.”

“Double the normal pay, plus a ten percent share in the business.”

“My, how generous you are, Young Master Ye!”

“One must give to receive…”

“Then I’ll look forward to seeing your paper succeed. I wish you great fortune. As for channeling water from Hongqu, we’ve found a way and are preparing to report it to the court. Young Master Ye, though your aspirations are noble, if the court bestows a title or reward, you mustn’t refuse…”

The voices inside were still clear. Liu Gui was about to spit in contempt when, all of a sudden, a shadow loomed before him. He looked up to see the burly Lin Xicheng grinning at him.

“Ah, I must’ve lost my way. I still need to find out where chicks are sold…” muttered Liu Gui hastily as he turned to leave. Lin Xicheng watched until he was out of sight before returning indoors. “Young Master Ye, that servant of yours is up to something. He was just eavesdropping outside.”

“That’s the second favor I must ask of Shopkeeper Qin,” Ye Chang sighed. “It’s a misfortune of my family. This scoundrel was planted in my household by a clan uncle as a spy, hoping to scheme against us. I brought him here today to ask if you could find a broker to sell him off.”

“Is that so?” In the Tang Dynasty, buying and selling of servants was permitted, and it was common for unruly or disobedient ones to be sold off. Qin Qinshou wasn’t surprised that Ye Chang wanted to sell Liu Gui, but anger flickered across his face. “Outrageous! Young Master Ye, you should have broken his legs to teach him a lesson for betraying his master!”

“Best to leave a line between us,” Ye Chang said with a smile.

Though he smiled, his eyes were cold. Qin Qinshou immediately understood and nodded. “I’ll send for a broker at once… Xicheng, go fetch Old Duan.”

Unaware of what was happening after he left, Liu Gui idly inquired about chick sellers, then returned to the shop. He found not only Ye Chang, Qin, and Lin, but also a burly man with two tough-looking henchmen behind him.

“This the one?” The burly man asked Ye Chang when he saw Liu Gui.

“That’s him.”

“Looks old, though—not worth much.”

“He’s in his prime—hardly old,” Ye Chang replied with a smile. “I just want to get rid of a troublesome servant. If you want to lower the price, say so. Twenty strings—a strong servant for just twenty strings of cash.”

“Done. You’re straightforward, Young Master Ye, and so am I. I, Duan Dade, like dealing with forthright people.”

The broker, Duan Dade, stood and grinned menacingly at Liu Gui. Even Liu Gui, dense as he was, realized what was happening. He was dumbfounded for a moment, then wailed, “Eleventh Young Master, you can’t sell me! I’m not your servant—I belong to the main branch—”

Before he could finish, Ye Chang produced a deed and laid it before Duan Dade. “Here’s his contract of sale.”

Liu Gui’s words died in his throat.

Which branch he belonged to depended entirely on who held his deed—in other words, his fate was decided by this piece of paper.

“Troublesome servant, it’s not up to you to decide whether you get sold,” Duan Dade said with a leering grin. “Young Master Ye is clearly too soft-hearted, which is why you’ve grown so bold. But in my hands, if you don’t behave, I’ll show you what punishment means!”

Under his gaze, Liu Gui felt like a mouse facing a cat. All the curses swelling in his chest stuck in his throat.

“Now that I’ve sold him, I’m short one hand at home,” Ye Chang said. “If you have any suitable young servants—eleven or twelve-year-old boys or girls—I’ll take one.”

“As it happens, I have two boys, though they don’t fetch the price of a grown man. They’re fifteen strings apiece. What do you say?”

Buying and selling people was something Ye Chang found distasteful, so he didn’t bother haggling and only wanted the matter settled quickly. He nodded. “Bring them for me to see. I don’t want someone too dull, nor too cunning.”

“Don’t worry—even the sly ones learn to behave in my hands,” Duan Dade replied.

Sensing danger, Liu Gui tried to flee, but the two henchmen had already blocked his path. He was instantly trapped.

“One boy, add five strings,” Duan Dade said cheerfully. “I’ll cover the broker’s fee. I’ll be back in a moment.”

Xiuwu County was a small place, and its market district was modest. Duan Dade soon returned with the ward chief and an old broker. Such transactions always needed witnesses. He also brought a thin, sickly-looking boy, who seemed younger than Ye Chang had requested.

Seeing the boy’s dazed and numb eyes, Ye Chang’s heart softened. He let the matter pass—at least in his household, the boy would fare better than in Duan Dade’s.

Liu Gui continued to wail and threaten, but Ye Chang ignored him. In the end, it was Duan Dade who lost patience and signaled his men. After a round of blows, silence returned.

The contract was quickly finalized, but there was a snag. Owing to a longstanding shortage of copper cash, Duan Dade paid only one string in coins, making up the rest with silk.

“Let it be,” Ye Chang said, seeing Qin Qinshou about to argue. “This servant was a gift from my elders—selling him is already a windfall. No need to quibble. It’s getting late; I must return home. Shopkeeper Qin, thank you for everything. If you ever visit Wu Ze, I’ll cook for you again.”

“Speaking of which, your cooking is the finest I’ve ever tasted. If you opened a tavern, it would surely thrive.”

After a few more pleasantries, Ye Chang took his leave with five strings of cash and the new servant boy trailing behind.

The boy’s name was Chunming. He didn’t even know his own surname, so Ye Chang gave him his own. Chunming wasn’t very bright—he lacked the spark of Xiang’er and was timid in both word and deed, evidence of hardship under Duan Dade.

His memories of suffering were still vivid, so he was fearful of his new master, uncertain of his fate.

Yet Ye Chang’s first impression was one of kindness.

“Chunming, do you know how to read?”

“No, sir. I am of low birth and cannot read.”

“Low birth… well, you’ll learn some characters. I’ll teach you.” Smiling, Ye Chang broke a twig from a roadside tree and drew the character for “one” on the ground, then “two,” then “three.”

“These are one, two, and three. Remember them, and try to write them as I do.”

Chunming stared blankly at Ye Chang, puzzled, but after being urged again, he took the twig and hesitated for a while before copying the marks on the ground.

He wrote the lines vertically instead of horizontally.

Ye Chang patiently corrected him and had him try again. This time, he noticed Chunming was intensely focused, which pleased him greatly.

Teaching Chunming was not a passing whim. It was also a way to observe the boy’s character and aptitude. Having volunteered as a teacher in his previous life, Ye Chang knew that the greatest barrier to learning was not slow wits or poor talent, but lack of focus. No matter how clever, a student who cannot concentrate wastes their gifts.

The two of them made their way home slowly, taking an hour and a half for what should have been an hour’s walk. As they neared the village, Ye Chang tested Chunming, and this time the boy wrote all three characters correctly, earning his praise.

Seeing his master so gentle, Chunming finally grew a bit bolder. His lips moved as if to speak, and Ye Chang prompted him, “Is there something you want to say?”

Summoning his courage, Chunming asked, “One is one stroke, two is two strokes, three is three strokes… I was just thinking, if someone’s surname is Wan (Ten Thousand), would it be ten thousand strokes? How much paper would you use just to write their name?”

Ye Chang burst out laughing. “Rest assured, rest assured—the ancestors who invented writing thought of that long ago. Of course there’s a simpler way. Here, this is how you write ‘wan’…”

He first wrote the complicated, traditional form, with so many strokes it made Chunming’s head spin. Then he wrote the three-stroke simplified version.

“These are both the character for ‘wan.’ Which do you think is better?”

Unlike those who stubbornly cling to so-called “orthodox” characters in later ages, the truth is that by the Tang Dynasty—and even earlier, in the Han—Chinese script had been extensively simplified. The character for “wan” had always had both traditional and simplified forms. Naturally, Chunming pointed to the simpler one. “This one—it’s easy.”

“Then write it this way,” Ye Chang said. “No need to draw ten thousand lines.”

Chunming giggled, realizing he’d just made a joke. It was the first time he’d laughed in front of Ye Chang, who ruffled his hair as he would Xiang’er’s. “I’ll teach you more characters in time. There’s plenty to do at home, and I’ll need your help. Little Chunming, you must work hard!”

Chunming stood dazed for a moment. His previously dull gaze suddenly cleared, and two bright tears welled in his eyes, though he fought hard not to let them fall.

In his short life, he’d learned that crying brought no pity, only scolding and beatings. Though still young and a bit slow, he was not truly foolish. He understood that Ye Chang’s words and actions came from the heart, and that final sentence—“You must work hard, little Chunming”—was full of expectation.

To be expected by someone… what a wonderful feeling.

“Come on, little Chunming, we’re nearly home. When we get back, I’ll prepare a room for you. Since you’re new today, we’ll add a dish to dinner to celebrate.” Ye Chang had no idea how tumultuous the boy’s feelings were behind him.

“Yes, sir.” Chunming hurried to catch up.

He suddenly felt a fondness for his new master.

But as they neared the village, Chunming noticed another side to his master. Everyone they passed, young or old, greeted him with respect. Some, obviously much older than Ye Chang, even bowed deeply, their reverence plainly sincere.

“Eleventh Young Master has returned!”

“Hey, where’s that Liu Gui? Did he slack off again?”

As they neared home, someone remembered that Ye Chang had taken Liu Gui with him and asked about his absence.

“Liu Gui was always lazy and unruly. I didn’t want to bring him before the authorities, so I simply sold him off,” Ye Chang said with a laugh. “He was so useless even the broker was reluctant to pay, only offering twenty strings. So I bought a young servant instead.”

The questioner’s jaw dropped in astonishment.

Everyone in the village thought that Eleventh Young Master was gentle and courteous; even in disputes, he’d turn red in the face before doing anything. None had imagined that, when he did act, he’d simply sell Liu Gui off to a broker!

Everyone knew what fate awaited Liu Gui in the hands of a broker. He would surely be sold off to some distant place, and whoever paid dozens of strings for him would certainly wring every bit of value out of him.

Wu Ze was not a large place, and news traveled fast. Soon, word of Liu Gui’s sale reached the main branch of the family.

“That brat dares!”

Madam Liu’s eyebrows quivered with rage, her whole body blazing like a firebrand. She rushed out, but halfway there, remembered her last solo visit to the third branch, when she’d nearly been struck by Ye Chang’s hoe. She shouted, “Anyone who can walk or crawl, get out here! Grab your things—we’re going to the third branch!”

The main branch had plenty of servants. Brandishing rolling pins, hoes, and shovels, maids and serving women marched off to the third branch’s courtyard, like an invading army. Along the way, chickens, dogs, and crows scattered in chaos, and at the third branch’s gate, they didn’t forget to smash a couple of clay jars for good measure.