Chapter 15: The Silkworms Die

Chapter 15: The Silkworms Die

On the evening of the seventh day of the fourth lunar month, Meng's father received a deposit of six strings of cash from Gu Wuxia's pageboy. After receiving the money, Meng Qing and Meng Chun began to split bamboo strips and assemble the frame.

The paper horse frame is large, so the requirements for the bamboo are high. The bamboo must be three to five years old and green. After being cut, it cannot be dried in the sun but can only be dried in the shade. Only bamboo strips split from shade-dried bamboo can be tough and not brittle.

The bamboo tube was split in two. Meng Chun jumped down from the stool, and he and Meng Qing each grabbed half of the bamboo and bent it in opposite directions. With a whoosh, the bamboo pole was split in two.

“This voice sounds right,” Meng Chun said.

Meng Qing nodded, confirming that the bamboo was perfectly dried to this extent. She dragged away the half of the bamboo tube from her hand, picked up a small stool, sat down in a sunny spot, gripped the axe, inserted the blade into the bamboo opening, and with a deft flick of her wrist, chopped the bamboo strip down the notch.

Repeat this process until half a bamboo tube is split into eight strips. Then, remove the bamboo nodes from the inside of each of the eight strips and polish away the burrs. This is the first step in splitting bamboo.

For the four members of the Meng family, splitting bamboo was already a skill they had mastered. Before the Qingming Festival, when the paper-craft shop was at its busiest, Meng Qing could split ten bamboo stalks a day. But today, she was busy feeding her child, washing the child's dirty diapers, putting the child to sleep, and cooking lunch and dinner. She only split three and a half bamboo stalks that day and was still exhausted.

During dinner, Meng Qing mentioned this to her mother, who said irritably, "Having a child is such a hassle."

"No rush, there are still two months until June 13th. Even if you play for half a month, you can still finish making the two paper horses. Your main task is to take care of the children. Splitting bamboo strips and making the frame is your brother's job. When you have free time, go and lend him a hand. Don't be silly and try to compete with him to see who can split more." Meng's mother comforted her. She could understand the anxiety of being interrupted from time to time when doing important things.

"Tomorrow is Buddha's Birthday. You and Mengchun should both take a day off and go to Ruiguang Temple to watch the Buddhist ceremony," Meng's father suggested. He also took out two strings of copper coins and handed them over. "Fifty coins each for you. Buy whatever you want."

Meng Qing immediately beamed with joy. She quickly grabbed a string of skewers and then pressed her advantage, asking, "Your grandson doesn't get any?"

"We'll talk about it next year. Right now, he can't eat or play, so what he's given to him is in your hands." Father Meng stroked his beard and smiled.

"It's not like it'll benefit any outsiders if it falls into my hands," Meng Qing muttered. She teased, "Boss Meng, you're being a bit stingy these days."

"Businessmen can only make money by being stingy." Meng's father enjoyed arguing with her.

"How much money did you make today?" Meng Qing asked, getting down to business. "Business was good today, wasn't it?"

"The paper money I cut and used to make incense and candles a few days ago, which was made during the rainy days, has all been sold. I estimate that I can sell all the stock in the shop tomorrow. I think I can make about three strings of cash in two days," said Meng's father. He was still not satisfied: "It's a pity that Buddha's Birthday only comes once a year. Once Buddha's Birthday is over, business at the temple will become quiet."

"It's a good time to free up some time to make funerary objects. Father, we need to get another batch of bamboo." Meng Qing reminded him again.

"I understand. I'll go pick bamboo after Buddha's Birthday," Meng's father replied.

After chatting, everyone went back to their rooms to sleep. It was only at this time that Meng Qing would think of Du Li. She patted the baby's belly and asked, "Do you miss your father?"

Wang Zhou chuckled at her.

"Silly grin, who's laughing with you... I wonder if your father misses you." Meng Qing's only worry about the present is that Du Li and Wang Zhou will be separated for a long time, and that he will lose feelings for Wang Zhou in the future.

*

On Buddha's Birthday, Meng Qing did not take Wangzhou to the Buddhist ceremony. Ruiguang Temple's incense offerings were becoming more and more prosperous each year, and many of the worshippers who came to pray to the gods and Buddhas were seriously ill. Wangzhou was still too young, and he was prone to getting sick if he came into contact with unclean things.

Just like the day before, she chopped bamboo strips after the children went to sleep, while also thinking about how to make the paper horses stand out.

After Buddha's Birthday, business at the paper horse shop slowed down, and Meng's mother took over to soothe Meng Qing's child, focusing all her attention on the paper horse making.

After splitting 150 bamboo strips, Meng Qing and Meng Chun began to tie the bamboo strips together to make a frame. Each bamboo strip was roasted over a fire and then bent into a suitable shape before being tied together with hemp rope.

Seven days later, the skeletons of the two horses were complete and they were ready to be fattened up. Du Min came to visit and brought them a talisman and a palm-sized peach wood sword.

Looking at the amulet and the peach wood sword, Meng Qing asked with a complicated expression, "Third brother, do you know that the peach wood sword is a Taoist ritual implement?"

“I know, I specially asked the Taoist priest to make this peach wood sword when I went to the Taoist temple. Second sister-in-law, do you only believe in Buddhism and not Taoism?” Du Min asked. “If you don’t believe in Taoism, you can give this peach wood sword to Jinshu.”

“We’ve always worshipped Buddha at home. I’ll take this amulet for you. You can take the peach wood sword back to Jinshu.” Meng Qing took the amulet and asked, “You went to the Taoist temple too? Aren’t you afraid Buddha will be angry that you’re doing two things at once?”

“I went to the Taoist temple to inquire about funeral matters. I read Buddhist scriptures and found that Buddhism opposes rituals with physical forms. The Diamond Sutra says, ‘All forms are illusory.’ Buddhist teachings are about salvation, using the accumulation of merit to educate people. What is being saved is sin, and the accumulated merit is merit. From this perspective, Buddhist worshippers believe in the freedom of the soul, not the enjoyment of the soul in the underworld. This doesn’t quite align with our practice of burning funerary objects as offerings to ancestors. On the contrary, the Taoist talisman rituals and the doctrine that burning offerings can directly reach the underworld are suitable grounds for supporting the burning of offerings.” Du Min spoke eloquently with his hands behind his back. He stared at Meng Qing with great interest and said, “Second sister-in-law, if you had focused your attention on Taoist worshippers when you were young, the Meng family’s paper horse shop might have already moved into the funerary object shop in the city.”

"I don't know anyone at the Taoist temple, so if I go and interact with worshippers, won't the people at the temple kick me out?" Meng Qing explained, "If you think Taoist doctrines are more likely to support the acceptance of paper funerary objects by the world, then use Taoist doctrines to explain it. But there's one thing I want to correct you on: Buddhism teaches people to let go of worldly desires, to abstain from greed, anger, and ignorance. How many people can actually do that? If they can't even endure suffering while alive, how can they endure it after death? Anyway, in recent years, most of the customers at our paper horse shop have been worshippers from temples, and no one has said that they will go to the underworld to suffer after death. Doctrines are doctrines, and secular matters are secular matters. As long as you can convince people that funerary objects, when burned, can be sent to the underworld and become physical objects for the use of the spirits, you can use both Taoist and Buddhist doctrines and scriptures."

Du Min lowered his eyes, pondering for a moment. The fog in his mind gradually dissipated. He had been too attached to appearances. Buddhist pilgrims accumulated merit for a better rebirth in the next life. This didn't mean they were solely pursuing freedom of body and soul, but rather it confirmed their deep belief in reincarnation after death. What if reincarnation wasn't immediate? Did the wandering spirits yearn for a simple life, or did they desire mansions and servants?

"I know how to enrich the content of my policy essay, Second Sister-in-law, I'm going back to the academy." Du Min was eager to leave.

"Take the peach wood sword," Meng Qing reminded him.

"Give this to Wangzhou to play with. I got it for him." Du Min said this and ran away without looking back.

Meng Chun had been listening quietly until now, when she finally spoke up: "He's quite thoughtful."

"Thoughtful? We're both nephews, yet he'd rather leave the peach wood sword here and have me throw it away than take it back to give to Jinshu." Meng Qing stroked his chin. "Is this what you call thoughtful?"

"Perhaps he had something else prepared for Jinshu."

Meng Qing shook his head, "If he had that intention, he would have asked Jinshu for a talisman long ago. It's not like this is his first time entering a temple."

Following her words, Meng Chun thought, "Du Min prefers Wang Zhou? Impossible. One is an eight-year-old nephew, and the other is a nephew who is less than two months old. In terms of affection, he would definitely have more affection for the older nephew."

“He’s probably closer to you, and therefore values ​​Wangzhou more,” Meng Chun said confidently.

“He’s close to Wang Zhou because he hopes I can treat him better.” Meng Qing subconsciously thought of the leverage she held. She had argued with Du Min on the ship before, and he roughly understood that she wouldn’t give him the evidence. Continuing the stalemate would be disadvantageous for him, so he chose to seek peace.

However, she couldn't deny Du Min's good intentions. Feelings can be cultivated, and the more Du Min cared for Wang Zhou, the stronger his feelings would become in the future.

“Isn’t this exactly what you wanted? He’s close to Wangzhou, so he’ll be more willing to give Wangzhou guidance in his studies in the future,” Meng Chun said.

Meng Qing nodded, put away the amulet and peach wood sword, and planned to hang them in a conspicuous place.

The siblings continued working. The paper horse's robust physique relied entirely on its buildup. The skeleton was made of bamboo, and the flesh was made of straw. The buildup was achieved by wrapping the skeleton with straw of suitable length. The shape of the hooves and the protrusions of the knee joints were all made by wrapping the straw. The horse's belly was thin but not skinny, its back was strong but not fat, and its rump was full and powerful, all of which were also sculpted with straw.

After gaining weight, Meng Qing took the money to a silk shop and bought a piece of plain white silk cloth. The silk cloth wrapped around a straw-wrapped skeleton, restraining the sprouting straw stubble. A paper horse without any expression began to take shape.

"I'm going out to buy ink sticks. You stay home and look after the children," Meng Qing told Meng Chun as she left.

“I’ll go buy it. What if he gets hungry after you leave?” Meng Chun said.

"Wow, you have no idea what kind of inkstick I want. I'll be back soon."

No sooner had Meng Qing left than Du Li arrived. He was startled when he entered and saw the two white horses standing in the yard.

Meng Chun was startled by him. He was momentarily blinded and mistook an old farmer for someone who had come to the wrong house.

"Brother-in-law, it's you." Meng Chun couldn't help but look at him a few more times. His faded brown-yellow trousers were stained with bright purple marks, and his wet straw sandals were still covered with mud. Did he come straight from the fields?

Du Li smiled at him, and he handed over the bamboo basket. His hands were soaked with mulberry juice, and his ten fingers were purplish-black.

"The mulberries are ripe, I picked two baskets and brought them to you to try. Where's your sister?"

“She went to the bookstore to buy ink sticks. These two paper horses need to be made black, so we need to dye the hemp paper with ink.” Meng Chun took the basket, grabbed a handful of mulberries and put them in his mouth, saying indistinctly, “The mulberries are really sweet, they’re all ripe, not sour at all.”

Du Li's smile became genuine. "I picked them from the field this morning, they're so fresh. Where are Mom and Dad? Aren't they home?"

“Mother is minding the shop, and Father has gone to hire people. The raftsmen have brought in a batch of bamboo that is four years old, and Father is going to hire people to carry the bamboo back,” Meng Chun said.

Du Li immediately knew that when he disembarked at the ferry, he encountered five raftsmen paying taxes there, and the bamboo they were transporting must be the goods the Meng family wanted.

"I'll go help." He turned and walked out.

"Hey! Dad went to hire someone. Brother-in-law, you don't need to go, I didn't go either," Meng Chun called out.

“If we don’t have enough people, I’ll lend a hand. I’m strong.” Du Li kept walking and quickly walked out of Jiayufang. After crossing the bridge and going around the tea house, he saw Meng’s father and six porters heading towards the ferry.

"Master Meng, you've arrived. Here are the seventy bamboo poles you requested, twenty coins each. Including the water transport fee, it will cost a total of fifteen hundred coins," the raftsman said.

Meng's father handed over the money, and then he told the porters to go into the water and drag the bamboo up.

When Du Li came over and saw the porters going into the water, he jumped in after them and grabbed a bamboo pole to drag them ashore.

The ferry crossing was crowded, and Meng's father didn't notice the extra person among the porters; he was focused on checking if the bamboo being hauled ashore was damaged. Du Li didn't say a word either. As soon as the bamboo was pulled up, he turned around and quickly jumped back into the water with a splash.

Seeing how hard he was working, the other porters couldn't afford to slack off, lest they ruin their reputation and lose their jobs.

Only after all seventy bamboo poles had been dragged ashore did Du Li walk up to Meng's father and call him "Father."

When Meng's father looked up, he saw his son-in-law, soaked to the bone like a water ghost. He looked at him, then at the churned river at the ferry crossing, and said, "You..."

"I heard from Chun that you hired people to carry bamboo, so I came to help," Du Li explained awkwardly.

Meng's father: "...You're such a fool, you didn't even say a word when you came."

Du Li smiled, picked up two bamboo stalks and carried them on his shoulder, saying, "Dad, you stay here and guard this place. I'll carry the bamboo back."

"Once you've taken it back, don't come back. Tell Qingniang to get you some clothes to change into," Meng's father instructed, adding worriedly, "Remember not to come back. I've hired people to do the work, so don't make me pay them for nothing."

Du Li then agreed.

“Master Meng, is this your son-in-law? This is the first time I’ve met him. He’s a very honest man,” said the old supervisor at the ferry crossing.

“Yes, he is my son-in-law.” Father Meng nodded. “He has a lot of land and is busy with farm work every day. He doesn’t have time to come and stay for long. He usually just has a meal and then leaves.”

How many acres of land?

"Two hundred and forty or fifty mu."

"That's quite a lot."

After chatting for a while, Meng's father's gaze shifted to the bridge by the river. Du Li was walking on the bridge alone, carrying two bamboo poles. The bamboo poles were too long, with one end dragging on the ground. He was bent over like an ox pulling a plow, his wet clothes clinging to his body, looking as thin as a stick.

Meng Qing was holding the child and waiting at the entrance of the market. When she saw Du Litou, she immediately noticed that he had lost weight again.

"Qingniang, you're back?" Du Li straightened up and smiled at her.

"Have you lost weight again?" Meng Qing asked.

“I’ve always been this thin, so please stand further away. Don’t let the bamboo poke you or the child,” Du Li said.

Meng Qing waited for him to pass by, and then followed him home.

"Don't go. Go take a shower, and I'll get you some clothes to change into," Meng Qing said.

Du Li nodded.

When he came out after changing his clothes, Meng Qing handed the child to him to hold. Wang Zhou stared at him with wide eyes, looking scared but too afraid to move, which made him laugh.

"Have the silkworms at home spun their cocoons? Are you here to take me back?" Meng Qing asked.

"All the silkworms died this spring, so there's no need to reel silk anymore," Du Li dropped a bombshell.

"What?" Meng Qing's eyes widened in shock. "All the silkworms died? How could they have died? What happened? If all the silkworms are dead, how are we going to pay the silk tax this year? Buy silk to pay the tax? Is your mother willing to do that?"