Chapter 14: A Man’s Knees Are Worth Their Weight in Gold

The spring water gushed steadily, and at the end of the bamboo tube, bubbles like pearls rose to the surface. The clear, cold water was so inviting that one could hardly resist cupping their hands to drink deeply.

It tasted sweet.

Ye Lian’s departure, apart from drawing some ridicule, caused little stir; everyone’s attention was fixed on the water that had been brought forth. Whether it was the white-haired elders, the sun-darkened men in their prime, or the children with their hair tied in tufts, nearly all repeated the same gesture of scooping up water and drinking.

Then, all eyes turned to Ye Chang, who stood atop the rock, their gazes filled with admiration. In their eyes, the young man standing there seemed to be haloed in light.

If it weren’t for the common tales of “encountering an immortal,” perhaps they would have believed that Ye Chang himself was a celestial being.

“Eleventh Young Master, you... you have saved us all—please accept our humble bows!”

The eldest among them, old Du, his beard and hair entirely white, clasped his hands together and bowed so low his waist nearly touched the ground. The others quickly followed suit. The younger children, of lower rank, were even instructed by their elders to kneel in respect.

They had little else with which to express their gratitude, so this was all they could do.

“Let’s make another one. Prepare to build a second line,” Ye Chang waved his hand, dispensing with formalities. “One tube is not enough; we need a second.”

With experience from the first, constructing the second bamboo siphon was a breeze. Soon, the new pipe was also gushing water, and the stream below the rock swelled considerably.

This flow would be enough for the slope and the flatlands beneath. If they were frugal, it could even irrigate twice as much land, especially if they used drip methods.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, Ye Chang breathed a sigh of relief. Seeing the smiles on all faces around him, he knew that here, in this era, in Wu Ze, he had finally secured his footing.

From now on, even if he acted a little out of the ordinary, no one would suspect him, and it would be much easier to ask for help.

“Eleventh Young Master.” A voice called out.

Ye Chang turned to see it was Clan Elder Ye Dan. Ye Dan stood with his hands behind his back, his gaze strange—a mix of appreciation, reluctance, and a tinge of jealousy.

“Greetings, Clan Elder,” Ye Chang bowed.

“Well done... Well done. When we return to the village, come to my house.”

With that, Ye Dan turned and walked away.

He appeared calm, but inside, a storm raged.

Ye Chang had actually done it!

With the help of only two or three dozen non-Ye households, a few hundred coins’ worth of bamboo, and just three or four days’ labor, he had truly managed to draw water from two miles away!

If not for divine aid, how could this be explained?

If it had been only the guidance of an immortal, Ye Dan would not have been so stirred; after all, such guidance could help for a time, but not for a lifetime. What truly made Ye Dan view his grandnephew in a new light was the organizational talent Ye Chang had shown throughout.

Villagers as scattered as sand had, under Ye Chang’s command, acted like a disciplined army.

With such ability, it was only a matter of time before he would rise to prominence. Ye Dan was not Ye Lian; he had no direct conflict of interest with Ye Chang. On the contrary, from the perspective of the clan as a whole, he sincerely hoped that talented juniors would emerge. In any case, no matter how brilliant the younger generation became, it would not threaten his own branch’s standing as the principal line.

“Eleventh Young Master is remarkable, I always said so!” Even before he had gone far, Ye Chang heard the excited cries of a young girl.

It was Fang Shi, leading Xiang’er, here to see the spectacle. In fact, nearly all of Wu Ze’s residents had come to witness what, to them, was a miraculous project. Xiang’er was naturally the happiest of all, jumping and shouting in the crowd, her words simple and repetitive, the best she could manage was “remarkable” and “so good.” Ye Chang felt a little embarrassed hearing it, thinking he really ought to teach this little girl a few more words—how dreadful it was to have so little learning, not even knowing how to give a proper compliment.

The people who had helped dig the irrigation channel all gathered around Ye Chang, surrounding him. Their faces shone with pride and happiness, delighted to have taken part in such a wondrous feat. Seeing that no one spoke, Ye Chang quickly realized—the water had been brought, but that was not the end of it; they were waiting for him to allocate the water.

“Bring me paper!” Ye Chang called.

No one responded.

“Uh, Xiang’er, Xiang’er?” Ye Chang turned, but the little girl who had been circling him just a moment ago had vanished.

Xiang’er had run off into the crowd to boast about Ye Chang. Only when the adults laughed kindly did she realize Ye Chang was calling her. Her large, bright eyes filled with confusion, she quickly ran back: “Eleventh Young Master, what do you need of your servant?”

The girl’s sweet, soft voice as she called herself “your servant” made Ye Chang’s heart melt. He held out his hand: “Bring the paper!”

“Oh... yes, it’s in my pouch!”

Xiang’er carefully took out a stack of paper from her shoulder bag. In these times, papermaking was still rudimentary, so paper was precious; even the famed calligrapher Monk Huaisu could not afford to practice on paper, instead planting banana trees to use their leaves. Thus, Xiang’er guarded this stack of paper with great care.

On the sheets were words written in charcoal by Ye Chang.

He had practiced calligraphy for a time—imitating the great masters—though his style was somewhat stiff, it was at least presentable. But brush writing was slow, so for recording the work of each team, he had used a homemade charcoal pencil.

He now read out each group’s completed tasks and bonus points; with no objections, he then assigned each household’s order for water distribution according to their scores.

The first household to be named cheered, running quickly to open the ridge around their field, watching as the mountain spring flowed in, soaking the cracked, parched earth—they were near tears with joy.

One household after another was called, then hurried to wait their turn. Those chosen first were naturally delighted, but even those last were not worried—the volume of water was greater than expected, so every family would get their share.

Each household could irrigate for the time it took a stick of incense to burn; then the next would take their turn. In this way, all nearly three hundred acres of sloping land could be watered in a day, with Ye Chang’s own dozen acres left for last. This arrangement left no room for complaint—even those who drew the last lot, if they dared grumble, were immediately scolded by the elders: “You didn’t work hard digging the channel, and even Ye Chang’s own land is last—what right have you to complain?”

Tenants who farmed Ye Chang’s land took charge of the irrigation there, while Ye Chang, seeing there was nothing more to do, ruffled Xiang’er’s hair—messing up her three little buns with a laugh—then set off for home. Xiang’er pouted and huffed, but soon cheered up again, skipping along beside him, sometimes picking wildflowers, sometimes chasing butterflies.

Though the day was warm, the air was fresh. Ye Chang loosened his collar, exposing his chest, feeling nothing but happiness.

Where there is joy, there is also discontent. Liu Gui, following behind Ye Chang, was among the least pleased.

He wore a gloomy, troubled expression. Even his master, Ye Lian, had returned home defeated; how much worse for him? Liu Gui knew well that life by Ye Chang’s side would never be easy, yet his deed of indenture was still in Ye Chang’s hands—how could he escape?

If things became unbearable, he could only run away...

But under the laws of the Tang, a runaway slave faced harsh punishment. Born in the Liu household, later given as a page to the Ye family, where could he possibly flee?

Thinking this, he glared at Ye Chang’s back, spitting at it in secret.

“Xiang’er, I’m heading to the Clan Elder’s. Prepare the meal,” Ye Chang instructed at the village entrance. “Liu Gui, split the firewood at home.”

Xiang’er responded cheerfully. Liu Gui’s reply was half-hearted. As Ye Chang turned toward the path to the Elder’s house, Liu Gui’s eyes darted; he followed Xiang’er for a while, then, when she was distracted, slipped away in another direction.

He was heading to the residence of the Third Branch Head.

The Third Branch was far grander than the others; its three-courtyard estate was, in all Wu Ze, second only to the Clan Elder’s. The third branch had eleven servants; Liu Gui had once been one, so he entered as if it were his own home.

No sooner had he entered the courtyard than he heard Madam Liu’s furious scolding: “You old plague, did you spend the gold I hid at the bottom of the chest on whores? Why else is there not a penny left? You claim you paid a high price for bamboo—always so shrewd, yet you paid thirty coins a stalk?”

Amid the tirade came the occasional sob, but mostly the whoosh of a broom swinging through the air. Liu Gui’s heart skipped—clearly, Madam Liu was laying down the law on Ye Lian.

“Wife, wife, I really did buy bamboo... We’ve been married so long, don’t you know me by now? That little brat connived with the bamboo seller to raise the price—thirty coins a stalk!”

“Married so long, I know you too well. Whenever my money passes through your hands, don’t you always scrape some off the top?” Madam Liu’s voice was sharp. “If only Liu Gui were still here to watch you, I’d be at ease. But now it was Ye He who went with you—he was born to your Liu family, always on your side, so of course you’d all scheme together to swindle me!”

She was not wrong; Ye Lian had actually settled the price at twenty coins per stalk, but reported thirty, keeping the difference—a gold piece worth three strings of cash. His guilt showed on his face as he forced a smile. “You’re joking, my dear. Why would I cheat you now? All I’m thinking of is how to deal with that brat...”

He was skilled at deflecting blame, and soon turned Madam Liu’s ire toward Ye Chang. Though Ye Chang’s house was small and right beside theirs, if the land and house were merged into the Third Branch’s holdings, they could expand even further—not to mention the nearly twenty acres of clan land under their name. So Madam Liu cursed, “None of you Ye clan people are any good... Who’s sneaking around out there? Get in here at once!”

Liu Gui, peering in at the doorway, scrambled in and fell to his knees before Madam Liu, wailing, “Mistress, I’ve suffered so—please take me back...”

In the Tang dynasty, servants addressed the mistress of the house as either “Madam” or “Mistress.” Liu Gui, born in the Liu household and given as a wedding page to the Ye family, preferred the latter. Madam Liu, hearing him, was mollified for a moment—after all, she had been the one to place Liu Gui with Ye Chang.

And these past days, Liu Gui had suffered plenty at Ye Chang’s hands!

“Why are you here? Weren’t you supposed to keep an eye on that brat?” Ye Lian, who had also been kneeling, blushed and stood to berate him.

“Shameless old man, kneel!” Madam Liu swung her broom, forcing him back to his knees.

“Mistress, it wasn’t for lack of trying, but... the Eleventh Young Master is just too cunning!” Liu Gui sobbed.

Ye Lian shrank back, for those words struck home. Having watched Ye Chang use bamboo siphons to draw water, he too suspected some immortal’s guidance, and now, cowed by his wife’s fury, was forced to oppose Ye Chang.

Deep down, he actually wished for reconciliation.

“Cunning... Liu Gui, you’ve disappointed me.” Madam Liu was unmoved.

She had not seen the completed water channel herself. In her mind, even if Ye Chang truly had encountered an immortal, there could not be much of a connection—otherwise, the immortal would have given him an elixir and made him immortal too. And when a woman becomes stubborn, she can be terrifying—especially one of Madam Liu’s age, whose wrath toward Ye Chang was now implacable: “Liu Gui, if you have no way to deal with that brat, you can spend your life as a beast of burden for him!”

Liu Gui was desperate not to remain with Ye Chang, so he racked his brain. After a while, he said in a low voice, “There may be a way. The Eleventh Young Master has few friends—he relies only on Young Master Shu of the Second Branch and his brother-in-law Liu. If we can cut off their support, with only him and that girl Xiang’er, what can he accomplish?”

This suggestion met with Madam Liu’s approval, and even Ye Lian thought it feasible.

“I’ll return to my maiden family—Liu Kun dared to help that brat against me, he’ll learn what I can do! And you,” she turned to Ye Lian, “go to the Clan Elder—no, now the Elder is partial to that brat. Go to Uncle Nine, have him speak to the Elder, send Ye Shu away for a while, and only let him return when this business is over!”