The faster the shuttle flew, carrying the weft thread horizontally across, the quicker the weaving could naturally go.
Pei Shaohuai watched his wife sit before the loom, cradling the narrow, hollow wooden shuttle in both hands, examining it with a look of delight and keen concentration. A warmth rose in his own chest, matching hers.
The last time she had been this absorbed — when embroidering the pattern of the silver coin — she had worn just such an expression. If needlework were likened to brush and ink, then at the moment of embroidery, it was as though the very Canon of Odes bloomed in vivid color from her fingertips.
The wooden shuttle passed back and forth between Yang Shiyue’s hands as she drew out the weft thread through the opening and murmured to herself: “How can the shuttle pass freely through without being blocked by the warp threads?”
After a long while, Pei Shaohuai noticed her lost in thought and crouched halfway beside her. He gently took the shuttle from her hands and said: “Those who accomplish great things draw upon what they encounter in daily life, and find connections through analogy — yet this is never the work of a single day… Why not keep an eye on the things around you in your daily life, and let the ideas come gradually?”
Yang Shiyue had been too deeply absorbed and only then remembered her husband was still beside her. She rose and said: “You are right — there is no rush.”
The two were about to leave the side courtyard and return to the main yard when Pei Shaohuai noticed several drawings of waterwheel mechanisms hanging on the wall, and stopped in his tracks.
The artist’s brushwork was remarkably detailed, rendering every wheel and rivet: the waterwheel turned as it dipped into the river, leather belts linked one part to another, and the various machines inside the building moved along with it. By adjusting how deeply the waterwheel entered the water, the speed could be controlled — fast or slow as needed. Dozens of spindles for twisting yarn spun simultaneously, requiring very little manpower to twist dozens of fine threads at once.
He looked at the small standard script in the footnote: “Copied from Wang Zhen’s Book of Agriculture.” It was a structural diagram recorded by a great scholar of the previous dynasty. Pei Shaohuai felt a deep admiration stir within him.
“What is so remarkable about this drawing?” Yang Shiyue came over to look as well.
Since the original machine could no longer be found — only these drawings — Yang Shiyue had not paid them much attention before.
“This is a water-powered large spinning wheel.” Pei Shaohuai said, pointing to each gear and wheel in turn and explaining how the flowing water set the great spinning wheel in motion. He added: “A young ox provides the strength for farming; flowing water provides the strength for round-the-clock spinning.”
It was clear that on this land, people had long ago tried to harness mechanical power for the textile trade.
Yet such things were never straightforward — having a good idea did not mean it would take hold and endure.
Now that Yang Shiyue understood its advantages, she asked with puzzlement: “If it is such a fine machine, why did it not pass down to us?” Otherwise, she would not have found only drawings.
Pei Shaohuai’s expression turned to one of quiet helplessness. He spoke of something that had happened the previous summer: “Last year, the water mills along the riverbank outside the city’s east gate were all torn down. Why? A censor submitted a memorial claiming that ‘the waterwheels obstruct the river, blocking boat passage and leaving the irrigation of downstream farmland insufficient.’ The court issued special regulations forbidding the rebuilding of mills, lest the waterways become irregular and harm the farming seasons.”
In the Da Qing dynasty, people’s livelihoods depended on agriculture, and grain depended on water transport — both farming and river transport were intimately tied to the rivers. The court would never allow a mere spinning machine to interfere with such vital matters.
Pei Shaohuai did not spell out the reason directly, but Yang Shiyue had already understood.
Pei Shaohuai took the drawings down from the wall, carefully rolled them up, and tied them with a thin cord. As he did so, he said: “Diligence opens the path to wisdom, and thought is brought to life through action. The people of Da Qing are industrious and hardworking — ingenuity and innovation have never been lacking among the common folk.”
He looked toward his wife, and lowered his voice to speak the next words: “Learning that does not transform — that is not true learning. What needs to change is the court’s way of thinking.”
Seeing that Yang Shiyue was listening attentively, Pei Shaohuai gave a mischievous smile, leaned closer, and teased: “Such treasonous words — remember to keep them secret for me, my wife.”
Yang Shiyue gave him a reproachful nudge and said: “Stop teasing me.”
She took the opportunity, while he was close, to straighten his collar, then lowered her gaze and said sincerely: “You are a man who will do great things. I chose well in marrying you.” He was always composed and measured in his daily manner and conduct — only after sharing a pillow each night had she slowly come to see that he was not only learned and talented, but also possessed of an unfettered ambition.
Yang Shiyue took the drawings from Pei Shaohuai’s hands and said: “I will first have someone try to build one along the irrigation channel at the estate outside the city, to see whether it is feasible.”
“Yes, yes — that is a good approach, progressing one step at a time.” Pei Shaohuai agreed.
The two walked out of the side courtyard together and locked it behind them.
From the Cold Dew to the Start of Winter, the days passed at an unhurried pace.
During this time, two things happened. The first was that Pei Shaohuai’s father-in-law, Official Yang, had achieved notable merit at the Court of Judicial Review over the past few years. It so happened that the presiding judge of the court retired due to old age, and the Emperor issued a decree elevating Official Yang from Associate Judge to Presiding Judge of the Court of Judicial Review — the third rank, overseeing judicial authority over criminal review and pardons.
Official Yang, taking on such a senior post at over forty years of age, was upright in character, with both ability and distinguished background. His next advancement — to Minister of Justice, Minister of Works, or even Censor-in-Chief of the Censorate — was entirely possible.
The second matter was that the Emperor granted Yan Chengzhao a marriage arrangement — a match with the one and only non-imperial county princess in Da Qing, who was eighteen years of age. Once Yan Chengjin departed for Ganzhou in the northwest, the Emperor would formally confer upon Yan Chengzhao the title of Heir Apparent of Anping Commandery and proceed with the wedding preparations.
Perhaps because of the tangle of unsavory affairs surrounding the commandery prince’s residence, or perhaps because the Emperor had some secret task assigned to Yan Chengzhao, Yan Chengzhao had seemed particularly busy of late. Pei Shaohuai had not seen him at court for a long while, and had no idea where he was posted.
Pei Shaohuai mused to himself: this was the one advantage of serving under the Southern Embroidered Uniform Guard — wherever you were stationed, your service hours counted and your salary arrived all the same.
On this day, Pei Shaohuai and his wife brought gifts and returned to the Yang family home to celebrate. He had carefully selected for his brother-in-law Yang Xiang-quan a set of examination books and notes from his own past studies, and for his father-in-law he brought a square jade paperweight carved in the shape of a Xiezhi — the mythical beast of justice — solid and square, without unnecessary ornamentation.
In the study, the two men — father-in-law and son-in-law — sat alone together in conversation. Official Yang held Pei Shaohuai in high regard, and had something specific to share with him in private. He asked: “The matter concerning your grand-uncle — how much do you know of it?” Only now that Official Yang had risen to a senior position and read the complete case files did he feel it appropriate to speak of it with Pei Shaohuai.
Pei Shaohuai understood what his father-in-law meant and answered honestly: “I only know what offense my cousin committed, but not for whose sake he committed it, nor why.” He then asked: “In Father-in-law’s estimation, how does Your Majesty intend to handle it?”
“Pei Jue still has his uses at court, so the Emperor will not move against the Minister’s residence for the time being. But in a few more years, should he no longer be of use, it is hard to say.” Official Yang continued: “However, given His Majesty’s temperament, and considering that Pei Jue was deceived into it and was not the principal offender, he likely will not take the lives of the entire household.”
Pei Jue’s greatest use at present was as a counterweight against the River-West faction.
Not long ago, the Ministry of Personnel had been quite lively — Official Lou had come to the ministry daily at the Emperor’s command, presiding over reports on provincial officials, and had intended to use the occasion to put pressure on Pei Jue. But Pei Jue, now in a position where he had nothing left to lose, proved bold enough to take the risk and personally led investigators to scrutinize the capital officials aligned with the River-West faction, and whenever he turned up evidence, he made a point of reporting it to Senior Grand Secretary Lou himself.
Official Yang then said to Pei Shaohuai: “From what I know at present, the person behind all this is most likely the one in Yichang Prefecture — and he still has his eye on things. Whatever occurs at court over the next few years, you must think carefully and weigh every word and action. Be cautious in all you say and do.” He was warning his son-in-law to be vigilant, and never to be confused or deceived into any association with the Prince of Chu.
“I understand, Father-in-law.” Pei Shaohuai replied.
What his father-in-law suspected aligned precisely with what Pei Shaohuai himself had been thinking.
“I have something I would like to ask of Father-in-law’s assistance with.”
“Speak.”
Pei Shaohuai said: “The court’s pilot opening of the sea in Songjiang Prefecture and Taicang Prefecture has brought merchant ships coming and going in great numbers throughout summer and winter, with considerable gains. And yet the dozen-odd locations where the sea opening was to continue — Chaozhou, Quanzhou, Jiaozhou, and others — have seen no movement for a long time. Local officials drag their feet, managing things slowly for their own private benefit… This matter will surely be brought to court debate after the new year, and there is bound to be a contentious dispute.”
Pei Shaohuai rose to his feet and said with conviction: “The vast waters are also sovereign territory of our nation — how can we abandon them simply because the seas are deep and pirates numerous? Trade flows ceaselessly to the Western and Eastern Seas — what merchant ships bring in both enriches the national treasury and benefits the people. How can we allow vested interests to monopolize it all and hold back our progress?”
He intended to submit a memorial, and wished to ask his father-in-law to lend him his support.
The question of opening the sea was something the two had discussed more than once. Official Yang agreed with his son-in-law’s view, and nodded: “Do not worry. The Yang family will serve as your shield.”
“Thank you, Father-in-law.”
Elsewhere, Yang Shiyue and Lady Yang were chatting in the rear courtyard.
Lady Yang said with a smile: “When your husband has a free day, bring him back here more often to sit and visit. Your father is very fond of him.” She mentioned small daily matters: “When your father lectures the younger generation of the family, his opening line is always ‘you should learn from your brother-in-law — read steadily, and in time you will have something worthwhile to say.’ If you don’t believe me, just ask your brother.”
“I understand, Mother. Husband often says himself that he means to visit more frequently — it is I who have been feeling tired lately and sleeping rather more than usual.” Yang Shiyue offered an excuse and replied.
Lady Yang was perceptive. She glanced at Yang Shiyue’s belly and asked: “Could it be that you are with child?”
Yang Shiyue was startled and shook her head, her expression carrying a trace of disappointment — her monthly cycle had only just passed seven or eight days ago.
Lady Yang quickly comforted her daughter: “Yue’er, do not be anxious. The time simply has not yet come. Give it time.”
“Yes, yes.”
At year’s end there were no shortage of affairs — not just in the court, but in the Earl’s residence as well. Before the twelfth month, it was necessary to tally the year’s accounts and prepare the gifts and necessities for the household’s New Year observances.
Careful habits throughout the year meant fewer errors at year’s end, and though Yang Shiyue managed everything on her own, she kept it all in perfect order without the slightest carelessness.
She heard that merchants from the north had brought large quantities of frozen mutton to sell in the capital, so she called for Steward Zhang and his wife, asked them to count the number of people working in the household, and sent them to purchase ten jin per person to distribute among the staff.
In the twelfth month, an extra month’s wages were given out as customary.
There were many small tasks to attend to, but whenever Yang Shiyue had a free moment, she would turn her thoughts back to the matter of the loom’s shuttle. One afternoon, she sat in her room embroidering the cloud-pattern trim for Pei Shaohuai’s official robe and sash — her needle and thread moving as deftly as always.
The fine needle passed up and down through the taut fabric. Yang Shiyue’s mind drifted for a moment, and as she passed the needle downward, the hand beneath the fabric forgot to receive it. When she came back to herself, the needle had already slipped through the eye of the cloth and hung suspended, swinging gently from its thread.
It was a trifling thing in itself, but Yang Shiyue suddenly recalled her husband’s words about “drawing analogies from daily life,” and an idea took shape in her mind. She picked up the needle again, pierced the fabric, and let it slip through the cloth eye on its own.
She thought: a shuttle is also long and narrow. If it were smooth enough — like a fine needle — would it not also slide back and forth more easily?
The thought was like a ripple spreading across the surface of still water, widening in ring after ring.
A few days later, Pei Shaohuai returned from the palace as usual. At the evening meal, he noticed that the corners of his wife’s eyes held a subtle lift of delight, and her cheeks glowed soft as peach blossoms, lending her an extra touch of gentle charm.
“Is there some happy news for you today, my wife?” Pei Shaohuai asked, setting down his chopsticks.
Yang Shiyue played coy, shaking her head. “No, no, not at all.”
Not until the night, when they had washed up and settled in, and the young couple moved from the side room back into the main chamber, did Pei Shaohuai discover that the tea table in the room had been moved away — and in its place stood a newly constructed loom.
Along the upper and lower edges between the two rows of warp threads ran a pair of iron-polished rails, bright and smooth.
The wooden shuttle had several small iron wheels added to its upper and lower sides — clearly designed to fit the rails.
Pei Shaohuai was somewhat astonished. He had not expected his wife to have designed this so quickly. Yang Shiyue had already sat down beside it, and by the light of the candles she began to demonstrate.
When she pressed the loom’s foot pedal, the warp threads interlaced, upper and lower. The shuttle rested against the rails; then the rails tilted along their axis, and with a light push of the hand, the shuttle glided smoothly along the track to the other side.
Another press of the pedal, the warp threads interlaced again, and the rails tilted to the opposite side — and the shuttle glided back.
Back and forth it went, more than three times faster than the old method of passing the shuttle by hand.
It was clearly already the prototype of a flying shuttle, and what delighted Pei Shaohuai even more was that his wife had also made use of the tilting rails and the weight of the shuttle itself to add both speed and smoothness.
Indeed — the principle was the same, but the method could take a thousand different forms.
“What do you think, husband?”
“Wonderful — truly wonderful!” Pei Shaohuai could not keep the excitement from his voice.
He looked at the cloth the loom had woven — only two chi wide — and offered a suggestion: “My wife, if the rails were made a little wider, would the cloth produced not also be wider?”
Wide cloth was more practical than narrow cloth, and would sell for a better price.
Yang Shiyue understood at once. Previously, the cloth had been woven narrow because the shuttle had to be passed by hand, and the weaver’s arm span limited how wide the fabric could be.
With this new design, that limitation no longer existed — the width could be as great as one wished.
She had already been overjoyed, and with her husband’s suggestion, a new idea added itself to the joy, filling her like spring wind for ten li all around.
“How clever you are, husband.”
“And how clever you are, my wife.”
Yang Shiyue raised both hands to wrap around her husband’s neck, rising on her toes. Though she had drunk no wine, she was already intoxicated, gazing up at Pei Shaohuai with soft, dreaming eyes. Her lips parted gently: “You are as the warp threads, I as the weft…”
Warp threads interlace up and down; weft threads wind left and right.
The candlelight swayed and shifted, adding to the spell of the moment.
They had been married for more than a year, and Pei Shaohuai was no longer bashful. He scooped Yang Shiyue up in one practiced, steady motion.
Too caught in the moment to blow out the swaying candle, he answered her poem with one of his own: “Upper and lower interlaced, winding and entwined.”
On the bed, Pei Shaohuai reached up with one hand and slipped loose the curtain hook. The bed hangings slid down.
By the candlelight, the loom stood still and unmoving — yet sounds carried from beside it, the rhythm of the shuttle, coming and going, the mood deepening with every pass.