Chapter Four: I Have a Solution

The next morning, Wei Renshi rose early and called out to Xi’er. Together, they ran out of the house, keeping a steady, unhurried pace along the road. For Wei Renshi, running and exercising was a way to train his body, while Xi’er merely found it amusing and, at Wei Renshi’s request, followed along, imitating him as best she could. Yet Wei Renshi did not set high expectations; it was only the beginning, after all. Whether she was simply mimicking or playing around, what mattered most was forming a habit and sticking with it—eventually, the goal would be achieved.

There were neither carpenters nor blacksmiths in Changgu, so if one wanted to construct a curved-shaft plow, the trip to Fuchang was unavoidable.

After another bowl of millet porridge, Wei Renshi left home and made his way toward Fuchang. Though just a modest county, Fuchang was under the jurisdiction of Luozhou and lay on the road to Luoyang City, not too far off, so it was fairly bustling. Small though it was, it had everything one might need.

The curved-shaft plow required more than a dozen parts; in the county, Wei Renshi found five carpenters and three blacksmiths, assigning each a component or, in some cases, several parts that couldn’t be directly joined. Because each craftsman was working on a different element, the precision of the connecting joints was crucial for the parts to fit together smoothly later on.

Explaining the exact measurements and dimensions of each section to the various artisans consumed much of Wei Renshi’s time.

At home, his mother sat beneath the lamp, wiping her face, while Xi’er, yawning, held a wooden basin at her side.

“My son, you’ve been out all day. What have you been up to?” the matron inquired gently.

Wei Renshi knew his mother’s heart was set on him pursuing scholarship and, one day, attaining official rank and honor. So he replied with a white lie: “I’ve been reflecting these past days and have come to believe that studying cannot occur in isolation. I once heard a wandering Daoist say, ‘How can one see through the world’s dust without first entering it?’ Now I think the same holds true for reading. If I mean to enter officialdom and serve the people, I must first know them and understand them. If I never leave my study to interact with common folk, how could I hope to bring them benefit in the future? So I’ve decided that from now on, I will venture out more, observe and learn about the people, and only then can I truly embrace them in my heart.”

His mother looked at him, surprised, and after a moment’s pause, said, “Your words show real insight. Your father said much the same in his youth: ‘Read ten thousand books, travel ten thousand miles.’ You ought indeed to go out into the world more. But you must remember, above all, never to neglect your studies.”

“Yes, Mother. I will remember your teachings,” Wei Renshi replied, nodding earnestly.

At that time, there were few amusements, and even the use of lamps was kept to a minimum to save on household expenses. So once Wei Renshi returned, the family doused the light early. He, too, retired to his room, but found himself tossing and turning, unable to sleep. Somewhere between wakefulness and slumber, memories fluttered through his mind—some long forgotten, others barely recollected, even fleeting glimpses or overheard words—all resurfacing with startling clarity.

The night passed in this hazy reverie; come morning, it was back to the fields.

Farm work was no easy task. Though Wei Renshi had the will, his body lacked the strength, and in the end, he could accomplish little. After a short while, dizziness overwhelmed him, sweat pouring down his face, and he longed to collapse right there on the soil.

His mother, too, was drenched in sweat, gritting her teeth to persevere. Xi’er suffered just as much, yet still pushed herself, one pulling at the front, the other pushing from behind—a pitiful sight.

Wei Renshi sighed.

“Madam Wei! Young Master Wei!” came shouts from the edge of the field.

They turned to see the local headman descending toward them.

When he drew near, Madam Wei, ever composed, offered a polite greeting: “The Wei family pays respects to the headman.”

To their surprise, the headman was not an old man but a sturdy fellow of about forty. He stepped aside, replying, “No need for such formality.” Then he added, “It must be hard for your household, all women and children, to till the land. There’s no need to rush. Most families will finish plowing in the next few days; I’ll gather some strong lads to help tend your fields as well.”

“But after plowing, there’s still watering to be done. Changgu has no irrigation channels; it all relies on strong men carrying water to the fields. How could we delay others’ farm work for our own sake?” Madam Wei shook her head. “Thank you for your kind offer, but though we are slow, it’s only a matter of a few extra days.”

The headman glanced down, nudging the soil with his foot. “That won’t do, Madam. This is wasted effort—the plowing is too shallow, and the stones haven’t been cleared. There are other widows and orphans in the village; every year I gather the strong men to help them with their fields. It’s just a small matter; no need for you to stand on ceremony.”

Wei Renshi noticed the headman’s warmth, felt curious, and observed the man’s slightly nervous manner, as well as his mother’s deliberate reserve. In a flash, he seemed to understand the undercurrents at play and could not suppress a smile.

His amusement aside, a question occurred to him, and so he asked, “Headman Zheng, if there are water wheels by the river, why do we still need strong men to carry water for irrigation?”

“Young Master Wei, you’re not familiar with our situation,” replied the headman. “Nearby there’s Daoyuan Stream, and farther off, the Luo and Yi Rivers. Water is not lacking, but most of Changgu’s land sits atop hills. Even with water wheels, we can’t bring the water up here. Fortunately, we have many able-bodied men. I organize them into teams, and we take turns watering the fields for each household.”

Wei Renshi frowned. He had thought that high-lift water wheels should already exist by this time. But uncertain, he asked, “I know of a kind of water wheel with great power, able to lift river water to the hilltops. Don’t we have those here?”

The headman laughed. “I’ve seen such wheels, but they’re not suitable for our area. The Luo and Yi Rivers are too far, and Daoyuan Stream flows too gently—it lacks the force needed. The kind of water wheel you speak of requires a swift current to function properly.”

Fuchang was, by and large, on flat plains, so the water flowed gently. High-lift wheels depended on fast-moving streams to elevate buckets of water and pour them into wooden troughs.

Changgu sat slightly higher than the surrounding land, but not by much. High-lift wheels were out of the question, but there was another type of water wheel that worked best in slow-moving water.

This water wheel could be set in sluggish streams and still deliver a steady supply of water up the riverbank.

Behind Changgu, there was a low hill, nothing more than a gentle rise, yet higher than the fields below.

If these two features could be combined, perhaps something useful could be devised.

Wei Renshi glanced at his family’s few acres, then at his relatives, worn out by their toil, and thought for a moment. Finally, he said to the headman, “Uncle Zheng, I have a method that could spare all the able-bodied men in the village from ever having to haul water for irrigation again. In the future, Changgu’s fields might scarcely need manual watering at all. If I offer this method, would you have the young men of the village help plow my family’s fields in return?”