Chapter 62: Clear Sound

Isn't this clearly a flaw? Everyone else didn't understand what Hang Liumei meant.

Hang Liumei held the cup high up against the light. "I've felt something was amiss, but today I finally understood. Those perfectly intact cups were too straightforward and boring, devoid of any storytelling. Look at these marks on the rims, don't they resemble cracks in a mural? Great, great! Xiaowei, don't make the new cups so white. Make them a yellowish color, like we discussed last time, with a rougher surface. Make the rims look like this, or even more exaggerated than they are now. How do you think?"

After listening to Hang Liumei, Zhao Xiaowei took the cup with great interest, frowned and smiled: "Teacher Hang, I have been dealing with porcelain for decades, and I can only make things in a conventional way. Your idea today - it seems worth a try!"

"Then let's give it a try! You don't have to use this wood kiln anymore. You've worked too hard. Our thing really doesn't require so much effort. A gas kiln is the same. It's stable and saves time. Let's switch to a gas kiln." Hang Liumei said.

The new cups would take another two days to be made, giving Hang Liumei and Qi Xiuchun time to see a doctor. The medicine Dad Mai had bought them last time only treated the symptoms, not the root cause. They had only been persuaded to go the night before, and the next morning at dinner, they were alone at the table with Pu Zhihe.

"Where are the father and son?" Qi Xiuchun showed up last and asked as he pulled out a stool.

Hang Liumei replied, "The older one said he was going to meet someone and rode away on his bike. The younger one—" Xiaomai was going to make earrings for Pu Zhihe, so she couldn't tell the truth, so she just made up a story: "The younger one followed the older one to find him."

Pu Zhihe took the two of them to see an old Chinese doctor. After they had their medical examinations and received their medicines, they were asked to stay for acupuncture. So he pushed Pu Zhihe to walk around so that she didn't have to wait in the clinic.

Pu Zhihe slung her canvas bag over her shoulder and headed out. She hadn't been able to decide what to give Hang Liumei and Qi Xiuchun when they parted, so she just wandered leisurely down the street. There were a number of stalls selling fruit, small bracelets, and snacks along the roadside, and among them, a square stall covered in small wooden sticks stood out.

Pu Zhihe walked over and took off her sunglasses, only to discover that the flutes hanging there were much smaller than usual. She asked the vendor sitting on a small stool nearby, "Are these flutes all handmade?"

The old lady was originally teasing her grandson with her head down, and was using some colorful tassels to make things for the crying child to play with. In a hurry, she looked up and replied to Pu Zhihe: "I made them all myself, but this is not a flute, it's a 筚篥." Seeing that Pu Zhihe didn't understand, she tried hard to change her accent, slowed down her speech and said loudly: "筚篥, it's that 筚-篥-" As she spoke, she wrote randomly in the air with her fingers, but it was not clear which two words she wrote.

But she didn't want to miss this business, so she stuffed the toys into the child's hands and sent him aside to play. She stood up, took one off the shelf and showed it to Pu Zhihe: "I made these by splitting bamboo myself. Look at the eight holes on it. The mouthpiece of the whistle is like this. You blow this whistle when you blow." After she said that, she handed the whistle in her hand to Pu Zhihe so that she could hold it and look at it, and then she took out a polished one from her pocket and started to perform on the spot.

The bili sounds like everything when it is placed there, but the sound it makes is like nothing. It is desolate and long but not dull at all. The rhythm of the music gradually becomes faster, with a clarity that penetrates the clouds, but also carries an unspeakable sadness.

The woman making the xiao (pipe) closed her eyes, puffed out her cheeks, and swayed her shoulders to the tune. She played with rapt attention, and Pu Zhihe listened with delight. It was Pu Zhihe's fault. At first, judging by her appearance, she'd mistakenly thought it was just an ordinary handicraft stall. She hadn't realized the woman was a true street artist. When she finished her tune, Pu Zhihe applauded loudly.

Seeing her keen interest, the old lady picked up two more good ones for her to choose from. "Take a closer look. This musical instrument is a product of the Silk Road. You know the Mogao Grottoes, right? If you look closely at the murals there, you'll see many figures of dancing and playing music, and these are all depicted. I loved these things when I was young, and now that I'm older, I'm making and selling them, but I don't make much money. But since you're here to play, it won't be easy to find them again in the future. Do you want to take one with you? I'll give you a discount."

Thinking of Hang Liumei's stories about Old Jiang playing various instruments and singing, Pu Zhihe couldn't have found a more fitting gift than the xiao (pi) in front of her. Pu Zhihe selected the two most similar xiaos from a row and was about to pay when she felt someone tugging at her canvas bag from behind. Thinking it was a thief, she turned around and saw it was the old woman's unsteady grandson playing with the small charm on her bag.

Pu Zhihe bought it in a minority ethnic street when she was traveling. It was an embroidered deer. You could decorate it with some small things when you unzip it.

Pu Zhihe handed the little deer to the child and said, "Your grandmother was with you just now, but I called her away. Here, I'll give this to you. Play with it."

"No, no! The child is just looking out of curiosity!" His grandmother was about to stop him, but the child had already accepted it, laughing and shouting, and ran to the back of the stall.

The old lady couldn't do anything about him, so she turned to Pu Zhihe and said, "Look, you little doll, you're so ignorant. I have these little pendants here, how about I give you two? They sell for money, and they'd look great strung on a bamboo flute."

Pu Zhihe picked two and left, thinking that she must not take this road after picking up Hang Liumei and Qi Xiuchun. If they saw this shop, they would not be surprised when she gave them gifts.

She completely forgot that the little deer she had just given away contained a single earring. After dropping the other one in the cafeteria of Xiaomai School, she put this one away.

What she had forgotten, someone still remembered. That person was trying to complete a pair for her, not knowing that the remaining one was gone.

Dad Mai and Xiaomai went their separate ways as soon as they left the house in the morning.

Dad Mai had a hunch that Mai Sui had also come to Dunhuang. After struggling for a few days, he decided to go to the event of that famous brand again, although he didn't know what the point of verifying this was.

He kept a low profile today and changed into an inconspicuous short-sleeved shirt and long pants. He had already made up his mind as he rode along: if he saw Mai Sui, he would pretend to meet her by chance and ask her if she wanted to have dinner at his house after she finished her work; if he didn't meet Mai Sui, he would go home and not think about it anymore.

He'd unexpectedly stumbled upon the opening ceremony. He'd arrived early, and with everything set up and in disarray, he'd somehow wandered into the audience. The prelude to the opening ceremony was incredibly long. In such a hot day, everyone was slicked to the nines. Dad couldn't understand how these people, with all that thick makeup on their faces, didn't sweat. Even he, sitting in the stands, felt exhausted.

Just as he was about to doze off, he finally saw the host. This was the beginning of the opening ceremony. Mai Dad suddenly woke up again. Representatives from the organizers took turns speaking on stage. One by one, another by another, they finally arrived at Mai Sui's company. Before Mai Sui even took the stage, he could already see her. It was Mai Sui! He was right. Mai Sui had arrived, too.

But he suddenly felt a little disappointed. Since she came, why didn't she tell him? Hadn't everything been fine when they said goodbye in Hong Kong? So she thought he was too clingy and didn't want to tell him?

It was too deliberate to wait until the show was over and then pretend to meet Mai Sui by chance. Why did he come up with such a stupid idea before? Although Dunhuang is not big, who would believe in such a coincidence? This just happened to fall into his trap, which shows that he is clingy and likes to control Mai Sui.

While Mai Sui was still speaking on the stage, Mai Ba put on sunglasses and left quietly.

After returning home, he hid in the house to look at the ring he prepared for Mai Sui, thinking to himself: "Since you are afraid that I will bother you, I will not take the initiative to contact you until you contact me. I will give this to you when we meet properly next time. I am hiding it from you now." He didn't know who he was angry with. As he thought about it, he felt wronged. It was really funny.

Two days later, Zhao Xiaowei called them and asked them to go and see the results of the new furnace.

"Xiaowei, you really made what Teacher Hang wanted. Not bad, not bad. Now this cup looks quite interesting." Hang Liumei took it from Zhao Xiaowei and handed it to Qi Xiuchun and Pu Zhihe after looking at it. "Take a look, both of you. Doesn't it look better with this design on the rim?"

Pu Zhihe also liked it: "It has a bit of the feeling of the edge of a sutra being torn, and also a feeling of the edge of the paper being on fire but not completely burned. It's good, I think it's okay."

"What do you think, Xiaomei? Just take this to the competition. The deadline is almost here." Qi Xiuchun asked.

Hang Liumei stared at the cup in silence. After a while, she said, "It's over. I still feel unsatisfied, but there's no time. Let's just leave it like this."

Zhao Xiaowei left the cup with the others and said he would check it carefully tomorrow when the sun was good. If there was no problem, he would pack it in a box and send it to Hang Liumei.

"Xiaowei, you have been busy taking care of this matter for us. You have to give me a chance. We will have a banquet in the yard tonight. Can you come and celebrate with us? It's settled!" Jiang Yunyi spoke first.

Zhao Xiaowei waved his hands repeatedly: "No, no, Brother Jiang, I already ate your meal last time, why are you still treating me? This time I have to come, I'll do it!"

Hang Liumei and Qi Xiuchun pressed his hands down from the left and right. One of them said, "Xiaowei, this won't do! The teacher owes you such a big favor, and you won't even let him treat us to a meal. Isn't that too much?" The other said, "That's what I see, Xiaowei. You keep calling them big brother and teacher. So just listen to them. Auntie, to be fair, come to dinner tonight!"

Zhao Xiaowei smiled and slowly broke free from their hands, posing as if in surrender. "Listen to me, everyone. I have a barbecue grill next to my kiln. We have a stove, charcoal fire, tables, chairs, and benches. How about this? I'll pack everything up. I'm familiar with this place. I'll go buy some meat. I also have a bottle of good wine at home. Big brother and I will drink it. If you guys like to cook, just cook some and bring it over, okay? I'll eat your food too."

No, no, they said, gathering around again. After some bargaining, they finally agreed that Jiang Yunyi would buy the meat, Zhao Xiaowei would provide the wine, and they would meet here again at dinner time for a lively barbecue.

In Dunhuang in the summer, the sun sets very slowly. Zhao Xiaowei is busy with a towel around his neck. Sweat drips down his double chins onto his white gloves. Two skewers of meat in his hands are sizzling, and the golden grease makes the flames leap out of the oven.

Xiaomai and Pu Zhihe squatted on the ground, threading the skewers. Dad Mai smeared the seasoned lamb chops on the large iron plate and put them in the oven. Hang Liumei and Qi Xiuchun urged them to start the meal, eat while they grilled, and not be so busy that they missed the chance to toast.

As everyone was chatting and laughing at the table, an angry male voice came from the gas kiln: "Boss Zhao? Where is Boss Zhao! Old Zhao? Old Zhao!"

Zhao Xiaowei stood up and looked over. Seeing that it was a guest who had rented the place, he left the table and called to him, "Here, here! I'm eating. What's wrong?"

The man looked to be in his thirties, with a thin mustache and a short braid tied back. He rushed over, not even bothering to apologize for interrupting the table's meal. He simply grabbed Zhao Xiaowei and asked, "Boss Zhao, I just went to the kiln to look at my work, and I saw you had three cups like this. What's going on? Do you know who made these?"

They looked closely and saw that he was holding a cup in each hand, one of which belonged to Hang Liumei and the others. Dad Mai immediately stood up from the table and said, "What's wrong? These are mine. Is there a problem?" As he spoke, he walked to Zhao Xiaowei, as if to confront the man with a mustache.

Zhao Xiaowei spoke first: "Brother Jiang, we're acquaintances! We're all acquaintances! There must be some misunderstanding. Lao Miao, this is someone else's stuff, why did you take it away?"

The mustache man raised his cup and asked Mai Dad, "I'm not here to cause trouble. I'm just asking what's going on with you. Since we're in the same industry, we should respect the originality. This is the most basic morality!"

How did they get into the moral discussion? Dad Mai had no idea what was going on. His confusion was written all over his face. The mustache man understood and held up his other cup. "Look, this is my work. Just to be clear, I fired mine last week. I just left it there a few days longer. My 'Withered Lotus Listening to the Rain' series is all about the imperfections and ink spots on the cup's rim, just like the withered edge of a lotus leaf. Perfection is often accompanied by imperfections. This is the philosophical core of my entire artistic creation."

He held up the cup in his other hand. "The rim of your cup is exactly the same as mine. What do you want me to think?"

"How can they be exactly the same? They are not the same at all. You do yours, I do mine, and our inspiration comes from the Dunhuang murals—" Dad Mai spoke in a rough voice, and although he was explaining, people always mistakenly thought they were arguing.

Zhao Xiaowei agreed, "Old Miao, you really misunderstood. This is also an original work. I wanted the feeling of the cracks in the mural. I made a mistake in the first firing, but I thought the effect was good, so I kept it."

The others understood and gathered around. A crackling sound emanated from the grill, and the man with the mustache glared at everyone, as if trying to memorize each one. Seeing he was outnumbered, he persisted. "Of all the cups, yours is the only one that copied mine, and mine has always been there. How can you be sure you didn't see it? Okay, Lao Zhao, I think you're just trying to be a peacemaker. But I'm making this clear today: whether you want to sell this cup or use it, you can't! I'm going to sue you! I'm going to expose you in the media!"

Hang Liumei didn't want things to develop to this point: "Young man, this is mine--"

The man with the mustache interrupted, "Old man, I won't argue with you, lest you come back to me and try to get into trouble."

"What are you talking about!" Dad Mai got angry when he heard the sarcastic words.

The mustache-faced man glared at him, then suddenly raised the cup in his hand to show his ferocity. Mai Dad glared at him and threatened, "What are you doing?! Try to move me! If you dare to smash my cup today, I'll keep you locked out!"

The mustache man sneered, then suddenly changed hands and slammed his cup to the ground. With a sharp thud, the cup shattered into pieces. He was laughing as he spoke, but his eyes were fierce. "I'm smashing my own pieces. I won't give up! I'm telling you, this isn't over!"