Chapter 61: Planting Willows
"Speak slower, speak slower. What illegal store did Xiaomai's father take Xiaomai to?" Hang Liumei asked loudly, covering her ears with one hand and holding the phone with the other. Qi Xiuchun and Pu Zhihe beside her were speechless after hearing this.
"Ah? You saw it? He saw you too?! Okay, I got it. Don't worry, I'll ask him when I get home." Hang Liumei hung up the phone angrily. Just as Qi Xiuchun opened his mouth to ask what she meant, another call came in.
Hang Liumei glared at the screen, put her index finger to her lips to signal others to be quiet, and answered the phone: "Hello - Jiang Yunyi! Where are you two now? Answer my question first. Mai Sui? I told you I didn't hear she was coming... She's at work, and it would be annoying if I called... Okay, okay, Xiaowei asked us to come over. My signal is bad, let's talk when we get home."
Hang Liumei spread her hands and said to the other two, "Mai Sui said he almost ran into the kid's father on the street today. He'll definitely ask about it again when he gets home, so we all have to hold on tight. What tattoo shop did he take my grandson to? Is he just bored? But don't tell me, or you'll be caught dead."
As she was speaking, she immediately shut up and winked at the two of them. It turned out that it was Zhao Xiaowei who came running over.
"Teacher Hang, let's go straight to the office."
The place that Zhao Xiaowei vacated turned out to be a wood-fired kiln, which also used open flames. Gas kilns that use natural gas have long been the mainstream, while wood-fired kilns require firewood to fire, which is not only time-consuming and labor-intensive, but also extremely easy to burn. However, experts still prefer the natural beauty created by wood-fired kilns.
They passed by several gas kilns with their doors tightly closed. Zhao Xiaowei said that something was being fired inside and it was not time to open the kiln yet. Although this place was not as good as Jingdezhen, in addition to the things he wanted to sell, there would also be some artists who came to borrow the kiln to fire their works, and among them there might be people who were participating in competitions like Hang Liumei and others.
Zhao Xiaowei pointed and introduced: "Dear teachers, don't be fooled by the appearance of my small, shabby kiln. The artists are all vying to use it. It takes several people to work non-stop for several days to fire a furnace. We really don't have enough people. No one can keep an eye on the fire for them. Otherwise, the kiln will never stop."
Hang Liumei nodded. "I also like things fired in wood-fired kilns. They're smoother and have a better flavor than other things. But Xiaowei, we don't have to force it. We have whatever we need. You can borrow whichever one is more convenient for you."
"Tsk!" Zhao Xiaowei suddenly stopped and turned around. "Teacher Hang, what are you talking about? If I don't let them use it, then you must use it. I will personally review your work when the time comes. Don't worry about this matter!"
His long career in business had given him a bold and forthright style, and he walked with the three of them with great gusto. The room was nominally an office, but in reality it was half a warehouse, its glass display filled with a dazzling array of samples. Zhao Xiaowei took out a row of prepared utensils and placed them before the group, allowing them to choose.
Hang Liumei's home was filled with countless similar cups—square cups, meditation cups, bamboo hat cups, and slender-mouthed cups. When it came time to make her own, she couldn't decide. She looked up and saw an open brocade box on Zhao Xiaowei's desk and asked what it was.
"This is the gift box we designed for this year's Mid-Autumn Festival. I went to the Forbidden City at the beginning of the year, and after returning, I wanted to make something inspired by wares from famous kilns. After six months of research and half-hearted imitations, I've come up with these few. Look, I chose a sky-blue glaze for the Ru kiln bamboo cup. What do you think of the fine-grained fragments on the inner layer? The Ge kiln's octagonal cup requires a thin body and thick glaze. Alas, this one doesn't quite measure up."
He put the cup down and quickly picked up another one to show. "This one, a Jun kiln diamond-shaped cup, is famous for its kiln-fired, 'one color in the kiln, a myriad of colors out' color. I'm most satisfied with the color of this one. The Ding kiln bamboo hat cup is also well-fired. It's made with porcelain clay I specially blended myself. Isn't it white enough? I'm still short of one from the official kiln. I haven't decided yet, and it's still early for the holidays. Teacher Hang, if there's anything here that you like, we can use it."
Hang Liumei picked up one and imagined what the patterns they drew would look like on it. She unconsciously turned the cup, but saw a pair of white bamboo shoot-like hands reaching out from below. It was Zhao Xiaowei who was protecting her hands not far away - afraid that she would accidentally break the cup.
It seems like it's not easy to bake a few like this. If she suggested using the design from here, Zhao Xiaowei wouldn't refuse her, but he'd definitely be embarrassed behind her back. Hang Liumei placed the cups firmly back into the brocade box. "Your cups are already very good. Any changes would be superfluous. We don't need to use these. I've already thought about it. Let's just make a Yuanrong cup. What do you think?"
Hang Liumei made the decision, and Zhao Xiaowei personally started throwing the pottery. They couldn't help, so they could only watch Zhao Xiaowei as a spectator.
He placed the pre-prepared clay ball on the wheel of the clay wheel, holding it with his chubby hands. It was hard to tell how hard he was exerting it, but the clay slowly took shape. He carved a hole in the center and then lifted the wall upwards, his hands intertwined, supporting and lifting it, as if completing some kind of ritual.
After all, they are skilled craftsmen, and the clay has become alive in their hands. Hang Liumei loves watching craftsmen at work, because she knows that not everyone can handle such an inert object well.
Zhao Xiaowei hadn't said a word since he sat down, and they didn't bother him, so the only sound around them was the spinning of the roulette wheel. Although he was sitting in the shade, Zhao Xiaowei's forehead and neck were covered in sweat, perhaps from being so engrossed.
After meeting Zhao Xiaowei for the first time, Hang Liumei had a question in her mind - considering the sunshine in Dunhuang, how could Zhao Xiaowei be so delicate and tender? Today she finally understood. He probably stayed here all day to study porcelain.
After almost making a prototype, Zhao Xiaowei took it down and set it in the sun to dry. He then went to the side to wash his hands. He took out a towel of indistinguishable color from his bib and wiped his hands while saying, "If the humidity is too high, it will easily deform when fired. I need to sharpen the clay after drying it, so I can't do it today. Don't worry, everyone. I know what to do. You can go back first and come back when the kiln is open."
The progress was so smooth that the three of them returned home excitedly and only then remembered the matter of Xiaomai and his son.
But Xiaomai was the only one at home.
"Where is your dad?" Hang Liumei asked.
Xiaomai slept all afternoon and said drowsily, "I heard him go out in the middle of the afternoon. I don't know what he went to do."
Qi Xiuchun had quietly walked around Xiaomai while the two were talking, but couldn't find any tattoos. If there were no tattoos on the exposed areas, then could it be somewhere invisible?
Pu Zhihe smiled behind her and pointed to Xiaomai's ears: "Xiaomi has pierced ears."
Xiaomai heard this and subconsciously pinched his still-burning earlobe. Hang Liumei quickly grabbed his arm and said, "Your hands are covered in germs! Is this the only thing your dad has you doing today?"
After figuring it out, they returned to their respective rooms. Before they could rest for long, Pu Zhihe received a message from Xiaomai, asking her to help find some alcohol and cotton swabs, and not to let Hang Liumei and Qi Xiuchun know.
Pu Zhihe knocked gently on Xiaomai's door. Xiaomai opened it after just one knock. She wanted to put the things in his hands and leave, but she saw that Xiaomai's hands were covered in blood and his earlobes were swollen. The door of the next room opened with a click, and the voices of Hang Liumei and Qi Xiuchun came from inside. Without thinking, they quickly entered the room. As soon as they closed the door, they heard Hang Liumei and Qi Xiuchun come out, turn on the TV, and start boiling water to make tea.
Xiaomai pointed to his bed and said, "You sit down first. My ear was hurting so much just now that I wiped it with a tissue and got blood all over my hand. I didn't dare let grandma know. Well, why don't you wait until they leave before going out?" After he said that, he saw Pu Zhihe standing still, and then he realized that it was strange to ask her to sit on the bed. He took a step forward and sat on the edge of the bed, giving the stool next to the desk to Pu Zhihe.
Xiaomai took out an alcohol wipe and wiped his hands, then went to remove his earrings. He couldn't see that the blood stains were still between his nails, so he touched the wound again.
Pu Zhihe couldn't bear it any longer: "You sit on the stool, I'll stand. There's a desk lamp over here, I'll help you check."
Xiaomai tilted his head for Pu Zhihe to examine. He had pressed his ear during his nap, and after waking up, he couldn't help but touch it several times. Now it was infected, with a circle of pus and blood pooling around the earring.
Pu Zhihe cleaned her hands with alcohol, then helped him remove his earrings and gently wiped the blood off his earlobe with a cotton swab. The lamp was old, its tube making a buzzing sound and flickering from time to time, as if a flying insect were fluttering.
Xiaomai's entire ear was red, the bright light illuminating it so that the blood vessels and hairs were clearly visible. Actually, it wasn't that painful; when Pu Zhihe touched the wound with alcohol, it only stung slightly. It was just that his ear had been on fire, and the sudden contact of the cool cotton swab caused him to let out a small hiss.
Pu Zhihe thought she had hurt him, so she chatted with him to distract him: "Why did you suddenly think of getting your ears pierced? It's too hot now, it's not a good time to get your ears pierced. It's better to wait until the weather cools down."
"I don't know what my dad was thinking, he just dragged me over."
Pu Zhihe fixed one ear and walked to the other side: "You are too obedient. If you don't want to be beaten, then don't beat me."
"I think it's all right. I don't think too much about it."
Pu Zhihe was only concerned with tending to her wounds, and replied perfunctorily, "You're so well behaved. Have you ever been rebellious in your life, as a child like you?"
The most rebellious thing is to like you. Xiaomai's heart couldn't help but answer, which scared him.
The wound on his ear was healed, and Pu Zhihe was about to help him clean the earring and put it back on. Xiaomai raised her hand to stop him: "I'll do it myself, it looks a bit disgusting."
"Well, wipe your hands clean first." Pu Zhihe handed him alcohol wipes.
Xiaomai held the sterilized earrings in his palm, and Pu Zhihe helped him put them back on his ears.
There was another "click" outside, and then there was no sound. Pu Zhihe said, "Did your grandma and the others go back to the house?" Then she stood up and looked around at Xiaomai's ears. "Okay, if you really want to touch your ears next time, just wipe them with alcohol. I'm leaving now."
She had just been planning to read the novel that Xiaomai had given her. When she returned to the house, Pu Zhihe took out the book again. When she opened it, a piece of paper fell to the ground. She picked it up and unfolded it.
"If you had just read this letter, you wouldn't have helped Xiaomai."
After reading it, Pu Zhihe's first reaction was this. Xiaomai had told her everything in the letter, either explicitly or implicitly, but words spoken from the mouth were always unadorned. On paper, the more he wrote, the more detailed and straightforward he became. From then on, his feelings had written evidence, and whoever gave it to him could take it to him and redeem it.
She folded the letter, but she didn't know when a small red bloodstain had appeared where she'd signed it, making it look like a signature. She raised her right wrist and saw that it had been stained with Xiaomai's blood. Since that was the case, she couldn't return the letter to Xiaomai and could only pretend she had never read it.
For the next two days, Xiaomai and his son left early and returned late, while Pu Zhihe accompanied Hang Liumei and Qi Xiuchun as tourists in Dunhuang. Just when they were about to contact Zhao Xiaowei, he called and invited them to go open the kiln together.
Zhao Xiaowei, his eyes red from working so hard, declared that the temperature was absolutely perfect this time. Wearing his work clothes, he used pliers to break open the yellow mud kiln door and instructed the craftsmen to remove the remaining bricks and take out the kiln pots. Then, they could see their finished product.
Zhao Xiaowei was standing at the front, but his movements froze when he saw their Yuanrong Cup.
"Xiaowei, what's wrong?" Hang Liumei, standing behind him, had a bad feeling.
Qi Xiuchun was familiar with this kind of situation. It was either too good or too bad. The gold, silver, and gemstones she usually played with were much more valuable than this, so she was more stable. With the attitude of "at worst, I can just start over," she urged Zhao Xiaowei: "Xiaowei? How is it going?"
Zhao Xiaowei held the bottom of the cup with one hand and covered the rim with the other, turning around with a frown on his face. Qi Xiuchun approached and bent down to examine it. "Isn't this good?"
He lifted his hand from the cup's rim, revealing uneven black marks, as if a pen had scribbled a circle with ink. "I don't know how the iron-containing glaze got on the rim. I fired three cups in this batch, but the other two are fine, and this one is like this!" Zhao Xiaowei explained with a bitter face.
Qi Xiuchun said, "It's okay. We still have time. We can just avoid this problem next time. We can also do without this wood-fired kiln. Wouldn't a ventilation kiln be faster?"
"Wait a minute," Hang Liumei walked over, took the cup, and examined it. As she looked at it, she smiled. "It's really like 'an unexpected success!' I have to re-burn it, but next time, I have to make marks like this on the rims of all three cups, and they have to be even more obvious than now."
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