A Grind That Had Waited Thirty Years

Chapter 50: A Grind That Had Waited Thirty Years

Who knew that before long, he would come back, scratching his head helplessly. "Sigh, the old man is still in Meng City."

The old man was still in Meng City, bickering with the Clan Elders over a few pieces of jade, going back and forth over every last scrap. Along the way, he was helping the Prefect make a dent in his fine wine and meat.

Zi Bofeng understood now. None of those Clan Elders was easy to deal with. If Lower Yan Village had a reserve, how could the other villages not have one too? Even an immortal couldn't match the cunning of these old foxes. They wouldn't hand over what they had so easily. Who knew what was going through their minds as they haggled away?

"Who knows when the old man will be back..." Zi Bofeng said, sounding a little discouraged.

"We don't need to find the old man for this." Zi Jian calmly set down the pestle in his hand, dusted off his hands, and clasped them behind his back. "I'll go talk to Shi San."

Shi San was third in birth order and worked as a stonemason. In a place like Lower Yan Village, where people lived off the mountains, how could there not be a stonemason? In fact, every village had people skilled in all sorts of trades. It was practically a self-sufficient little society. Zi Jian, for instance, was the village's repairman and furniture maker. As for masonry, when someone's house had a problem, they usually patched it up themselves.

For that matter, the stone mortar in Zi Bofeng's home had been carved by Shi San.

"I'm coming too!" Zi Bofeng hurried after him, like a lackey.

Zi Bofeng was actually excited and comforted. His father not only supported him, but was also going to personally win over one of the key people first. That feeling of father and son truly standing together delighted him.

"I'm coming too!" Little Stone couldn't be left behind. He dashed after them, and the two puppies trotted along behind, wagging their tails. They were growing remarkably well and had already learned to cling to people. Little Stone even had to hold them when he slept, and Yan Wu Shi had to pull them out from under the covers every night.

Whenever Zi Bofeng had free time, he would write a few strokes in the air for the two puppies, nourishing their growth. They were growing far faster than their siblings. Zi Bofeng occasionally used the Monster Raising Art to nourish the others too, but perhaps there really was such a thing as innate talent in this world. The other puppies didn't benefit much from the nourishment, and in time, Zi Bofeng stopped wanting to waste his strength on them.

Zi Jian led Zi Bofeng and Little Stone a short way, and soon they reached Shi San's home. Shi San, of course, also had the surname Yan. He was a son of the Yan Family, and the stone statue in the Ancestral Shrine had actually been carved by one of his ancestors.

As a stonemason, Shi San lived closer to the mountains. When they reached his gate, they saw all sorts of large stones outside. Some had already been roughly shaped, while others were still untouched blocks. Shi San was sitting in the courtyard, carving a stone that was already beginning to resemble a mortar.

"Third Brother, I've come to discuss something with you," Zi Jian said as he stepped inside, getting straight to the point.

"Ah, Jian! Oh, Scholar, you're here too!" Seeing them come in, Shi San hurried to his feet.

"Third Uncle, Third Uncle, I'm here too," Little Stone said quickly, eager to please.

"Of course, Little Stone too." Shi San smiled warmly as he patted Little Stone's head.

Zi Bofeng also sized Shi San up. Shi San was rather withdrawn and rarely left his home. He was about forty, with an eldest son already in his twenties and a younger son of twelve, one of Zi Bofeng's students.

As fellow craftsmen from Lower Yan Village, Zi Jian and Shi San were on good terms.

"Bofeng told me today that he wants to build a water-powered mill here. Take a look." Zi Jian held out his hand, and Zi Bofeng eagerly handed him the design drawing. Shi San leaned over to look, then nodded. "Not bad."

Zi Bofeng hadn't even had time to feel proud of the praise before Shi San added, "Just a little amateurish."

Zi Bofeng's spirits sank again.

"Ah, the Scholar drew it..." Only after speaking did Shi San notice Zi Bofeng's gloomy expression. He hurried to make amends, but this hard-as-stone fellow was hopeless with words and couldn't manage to say anything nice.

"Third Brother, take a look and see if it'll work. If it will, we'll start getting things ready to build it," Zi Jian said.

He was showing his support for his son through action. The mill was made of wood and stone, after all, and with a carpenter and a stonemason, they could handle the whole thing themselves. At worst, it would cost a little money and take some effort.

There was no need to pinch pennies when it would benefit the village. They still had plenty of the money the Prefect had awarded them.

Lately, Zi Jian's thinking had indeed been quietly changing. His horizons had broadened, and so had his ideas.

"A water-powered mill will need a good stone," Shi San said. "That Big Blue Rock on the mountain looks perfect. If we could haul it back and carve it..."

"No! No!" Zi Bofeng cried out at once.

"Don't worry. Your Third Uncle wouldn't carve up your precious rock." Zi Jian smiled at Zi Bofeng. He understood Shi San. To a stonemason, seeing a fine stone was like a scholar seeing a fine book. How could he not be tempted?

Zi Bofeng looked up. The Blue Stone stood tall—and it had grown even bigger. Recently, Blind Granny had started burning incense and praying near it, and many village women had begun worshipping the Blue Stone Deity too.

Shi San also glanced at Zi Bofeng. A stonemason's eyes knew stone better than anyone's. He could tell at a glance that the stone grew a little bigger every day. Zi Bofeng, who spent all day writing and drawing on it, was the most suspicious of all.

Could he no longer keep it hidden? Zi Bofeng felt aggrieved. Everyone was looking at him differently now.

So Third Uncle Shi wasn't an ordinary man either. He was another one of those great minds who hid their wisdom beneath a plain exterior, unlike the common village folk. Hm, people who worked in technical trades really were smart.

"Then come and see if these will do." Shi San led them into the back courtyard. As soon as they entered, they saw two enormous round stone millstones, like coins magnified ten million times. One sat on a stone base, serving as a table. The other leaned against the wall beside a pile of stone.

"Huh..." Zi Bofeng's eyes widened. "Third Uncle Shi, were you prepared for this all along?"

"Ah..." Shi San sighed. "It wasn't me who prepared them. My grandfather did. He carved these two big millstones himself, little by little, and it took him a full year. Look at this stone. My grandfather gathered sixteen strong men, and it took them six days to haul it out of the mountain. Aside from the Big Blue Rock, I've never seen another stone with such fine quality. It could be ground on for decades without wearing out. And look at the craftsmanship. It's smooth as a mirror, without a single white spot. When I was learning the trade as a child, I helped polish these millstones. I'd spend the whole day at it..."

Zi Bofeng studied the millstones. They were rounder than wagon wheels, one lying flat and the other standing upright. Their surfaces were so smooth they looked machine-polished, and standing there, they faintly reflected people's shapes. One side of each millstone was covered in exquisitely fine spiral grooves. Zi Bofeng traced them with a finger. Every line followed a golden spiral.

"More than thirty years ago, our Lower Yan Village planned to build a mill, with oxen and donkeys turning the grindstones. My grandfather spent years searching for a good stone. But then the times turned bad, and before he died, he never got to see the mill built... I never thought that thirty years later, we'd finally be building a mill again. If my grandfather knew this from beyond the grave..."

Shi San sighed with feeling.

"Third Brother, let's go look by the river this afternoon and choose a good spot," Zi Jian said. Then he stepped forward, spread his fingers, and gauged the dimensions with a few quick gestures. He already had the millstones' measurements clear in his mind. These old craftsmen, who had immersed themselves in their trade for decades, were all first-rate when it came to professional skill.

With a few gestures, he had the width and thickness worked out, along with the size and length of the timber they would need, how many pieces, and what kind of wood.

The Zi father and son said their goodbyes to Shi San, then headed to Yan Lao Wu's home. Yan Lao Wu wasn't there, but his sons were. Unless something unexpected happened, one of them would become a Clan Elder after Yan Lao Wu. They were already highly respected. Several of the younger sons had gone into the mountains, leaving the eldest and second eldest to hold down the fort. They had just finished offering thanks to their ancestors at the Ancestral Shrine and were still excited. When they saw the Zi father and son, they thanked them again. What mattered most to these old farmers was bringing honor to their ancestors, and now they could finally see a glimmer of hope.

"A water mill? It was the Scholar's idea?" Yan Da said. Without a moment's hesitation, he added, "Fine. I'll go gather people right now. We'll build the mill house first."

A mill needed a house, after all.

"Big Brother, let's go check the site this afternoon and pick a spot before gathering people," Zi Jian said.

"I'll tell everyone first. Those who have people can send people; those who have strength can lend their strength. The boys at home can learn how to build a house too." The mill house was only one room, and nobody would live in it, so the requirements weren't high. Set the foundation posts, raise the beams, and it would be built in two days.

"Then I'll head back. I'll come by again this afternoon," Zi Jian said.

"Don't go!" Yan Da had Zi Jian right there; how could he let him leave? "And Scholar, how can we let you go now that you're here? Come, let's have a drink!"

"Let's skip the drinking. We still have to inspect the site and get to work this afternoon." Zi Jian wasn't being modest. His pride, this respect, this honor, this status that made everyone look up to him—all of it had been earned by his son.

They'd decided already? Just like that, it was settled? Zi Bofeng was a little bewildered. That was... so fast.

Zi Bofeng looked at his father in astonishment. Zi Jian's ability to act and get things done was truly astonishing. But it was no wonder. If he hadn't been decisive and efficient, how could he have raised Zi Bofeng alone, as both father and mother? How could he have survived two years as a refugee? How could he have raised Zi Bofeng into a Scholar?

And setting all that aside, how could the father of a son who could remember everything at a glance have bad genes?

From behind, Zi Bofeng noticed that the gray hair at his father's temples had darkened a little, and the deep crow's-feet at the corners of his eyes had faded. His spirits were far better than when Zi Bofeng had first seen him. He no longer seemed weighed down by hardship or careful in every step. Instead, he looked full of confidence and vigor.

Record of Raising Monsters