At the Tian residence.
Tian Benchang gently knocked on the study door.
“Come in,” said Tian Huai’an as he put down the account book inside.
Tian Benchang pushed open the door. Tian Huai’an glanced at him and asked, “How did it go? Did the Li family agree to the marriage?”
“No,” Tian Benchang shook his head. It was within expectations.
“I told you to give up earlier. You know Old Shopkeeper Li’s temperament. After what happened between our families back then, there’s no possibility of reconciliation,” said Tian Huai’an. After all, the Tian family’s actions had essentially ruined Li Zhenniang’s reputation.
“I know, I just feel somewhat unwilling to let go,” Tian Benchang clicked his tongue, lamenting the waste of Zhenniang’s ink-making skills.
“It’s good that you understand. That Li young lady’s ink-making skills might not be as good as claimed. After all, she had Li Jinshui behind her. Those previous achievements might have been Li Jinshui creating hype for her. We can’t fully trust it,” said Tian Huai’an.
“I understand, Father,” Tian Benchang nodded.
The topic was considered finished.
Tian Huai’an rubbed his temples at this moment.
“Father, what’s wrong? Is something troubling you?” Tian Benchang asked.
“Everything comes with a price. Daoist Yunsong helped our Tian family greatly in the tribute ink selection, and now he needs a batch of medicinal ink that requires hundred-year-old pine soot. Originally, with us acquiring the Luo family’s pine forest, this wouldn’t have been an issue. But unexpectedly, a pine plague has now destroyed all the pine forests in Huizhou. These hundred-year-old pines are hard to find now,” Tian Huai’an frowned as he spoke.
“Father, now that we have the tribute ink rights, if we don’t have the pine wood ourselves, we can certainly requisition from other families. I refuse to believe that among dozens of ink workshops in Huizhou, we can’t find hundred-year-old pine wood,” Tian Benchang said while pursing his lips.
“Mm, eldest son, I’ll leave this matter to you to handle,” said Tian Huai’an.
“Yes, Father,” Tian Benchang responded before leaving the study.
Early morning, Zhenniang hadn’t been selling ink these past two days, instead specifically wandering around Sibao Street.
“Shopkeeper Quan, does your Wenrang Studio have any waste ink? I’m collecting waste ink,” Zhenniang called out while passing by a calligraphy supplies shop.
“Zhenniang, what do you want waste ink for?” Shopkeeper Quan stroked his beard and asked curiously.
“I’ve been working on reprocessing ink recently and made some breakthroughs. I want to try my hand at it, so I’m collecting waste ink. Shopkeeper Quan, I can either buy the waste ink or exchange it for reprocessed ink,” Zhenniang smiled at Shopkeeper Quan.
“Reprocessed ink? That requires very high technical skill,” Shopkeeper Quan said with surprise. To produce high-quality reprocessed ink, one must first understand the raw materials of waste ink and have a thorough grasp of various combinations.
For instance, green vitriol and indigo easily cause decay and odor, while musk and egg white tend to attract moisture, and so on—there were too many factors involved.
It was like how painting on blank paper was much easier than modifying an existing painting.
One could say that reprocessing ink has always been a technical challenge in the ink industry.
“I’m just giving it a try,” Zhenniang had been studying the reprocessed ink left by Old Master Cheng and combining it with her previous life’s grandfather’s research, so she had some confidence in reprocessing ink.
“Good, trying is good. I’ll get some for you. If you succeed, just give me two blocks of reprocessed ink in return. If not, consider it practice material,” Shopkeeper Quan said generously.
“That works, thank you, Shopkeeper Quan,” Zhenniang bowed. Then she went to ask at other calligraphy supply shops.
To produce a batch of reprocessed ink required quite a lot of waste ink. So she needed to collect more.
“Zhenniang, you’re still here collecting ink? The Li family and Tian family are fighting at the Li family’s ink workshop,” said the owner of a calligraphy shop who had just returned from outside.
“Uncle Fang, what happened?” Zhenniang was startled upon hearing about the fight between the Li and Tian families.
“I heard the Tian family went to the Li family’s workshop demanding to requisition the batch of pine wood your Ninth Uncle brought back. Your Uncle Jingdong refused, and both sides started fighting,” said the shop owner surnamed Fang.
Hearing this, Zhenniang gritted her teeth. This was no joke—her Ninth Uncle had drowned at Shendu while transporting this batch of pine wood. This pine wood could be said to have been exchanged for her Ninth Uncle’s life. For the Tian family to demand requisition now was like demanding the Li family’s lives.
With these thoughts, Zhenniang didn’t bother continuing to collect ink. She picked up her basket and ran toward the Li family workshop.
By the time she arrived at the Li family workshop’s entrance, the scene was chaos. On both the Tian family’s and Li family’s sides, workers were lying on the ground crying out in pain, clearly having already fought.
“You Tians, I’ll fight you to the death!” At this moment, Li Jingdong sat in his wheelchair, his eyes blazing red as he glared at the brothers Tian Benchang and Tian Rongchang.
“Uncle Jingdong, times have changed. Now that our Tian family holds the tribute ink rights, you must accept reality. The pine wood—we’ll be taking it. As for you, considering your age and disability, you’d be better off staying at home. What’s the point of fighting like this?” Second Young Master Tian Rongchang said mockingly.
Before his words could even finish, a bucket of water was thrown over his head.
“Pfft, pfft! Who dares? Do you want to die?” Drenched like a drowned rat, Tian Rongchang jumped in anger, shivering from the cold spring water.
“Filthy mouth needs washing,” Li Zhenniang glared at Tian Rongchang. She had just arrived to hear him spouting vile words. Adding to the old grudge from when the Tian family broke off the engagement, a bucket of water was already being lenient.
“Well done!” The workers around the Li family workshop cheered.
“You little hussy, you’ve gone too far. Watch how I deal with you!” Tian Rongchang threatened while wringing water from his clothes.
While he made threats, Zhenniang treated them as mere dog barks. She returned the wooden bucket to a sister-in-law washing clothes by the well, then stood behind Li Jingdong.
The matter between the Tian family and Li family workshop would be handled by those in charge. She had no right to speak, but since she was here, she had to stand with the Li family. This also represented the stance of the Li family’s eighth branch—the Li descendants must always stand united as one fist.
Tian Rongchang was further enraged by Zhenniang’s dismissive attitude.
“Enough, Second Brother. Go home first and change your clothes before you catch a cold,” Tian Benchang said to Tian Rongchang. This second brother was a hopeless case, always doing more harm than good. Better to send him home early.
Speaking thus, Tian Benchang bowed to Li Jingdong: “Uncle Jingdong, there’s no choice. Our Tian family has taken on the tribute ink duty and must be fully committed to fulfilling it. Now we lack a hundred-year pine wood and must requisition this batch from the Li family workshop. Please forgive any offense.”
“Impossible. If your Tian family wants this pine wood, you’ll have to step over my dead body first,” Li Jingdong said coldly.
“Uncle Jingdong, there’s no point saying such things. In any case, our Tian family is determined to get this batch of pine wood. We’ll give you three days to consider. Think carefully—if the Li family truly fails to recognize the situation, we’ll have no choice but to involve the Ink Affairs Bureau officials. At that point, it would become an obstruction of imperial business, possibly leading to workshop closure and imprisonment. Is that necessary?” Tian Benchang maintained his cultured demeanor while speaking.
Yet his words chilled to the bone.
“Are you threatening our Li family?” Li Jingdong coldly snorted.
“Not a threat, just reality. Uncle Jingdong should accept reality,” Tian Benchang said, then bowed and added “I’ll return in three days” before leaving with his people.
Li Jingdong’s face turned ashen, trembling with anger.
“Uncle Jingdong…” Zhenniang looked at him with concern. Uncle Jingdong’s temperament was somewhat dark and extreme; she worried he might not be able to bear it.
“It’s fine,” Li Jingdong finally calmed down after a while, waving his hand. Then he waved to the watching workers: “Alright, everyone returns to work in the workshop. I’ll discuss this matter with the Old Madam and Manager Shao.”
“Yes,” the surrounding workers responded and returned to their tasks, though each face showed worry. Things weren’t looking good for the Li family.
“Zhenniang, you go home too,” Li Jingdong then said flatly to Zhenniang.
“Mm,” Zhenniang nodded without saying more. Uncle Jingdong was very guarded against the eighth branch; saying more would only displease him.
She then turned and left, continuing to collect her waste ink.
By evening, returning home, Old Shopkeeper Li had already heard about today’s events at the Li family workshop and called Zhenniang to ask for details.
“Grandfather, how can the workshop resolve this? That pine wood was exchanged for Ninth Uncle’s life. We can’t let the Tian family take advantage for nothing,” Zhenniang said angrily.
“There’s no way around it. Workshops with tribute ink rights have the authority to requisition materials. All the Li family can do now is try to negotiate for more compensation,” Old Shopkeeper Li said.
Although emotionally speaking, that batch of pine wood was bought with Old Ninth’s life and absolutely couldn’t be requisitioned, from a material perspective, workshops with tribute ink rights could requisition materials to ensure the smooth completion of imperial ink duties.
If they resisted, the result would be as Tian Benchang said—workshop closure and imprisonment.
“The Tian family, aren’t they afraid of public outrage?” Zhenniang said hatefully. They should know that if they could treat the Li family this way today, tomorrow they could do the same to the Cheng family, the Pan family, and others.
“Normally, the Tian family wouldn’t dare act this way. But now with the pine plague, all workshops are struggling to survive and might have to rely on the Tian family for livelihood in the future, so naturally the Tian family isn’t afraid,” Old Shopkeeper Li snorted coldly.
“But I see Uncle Jingdong won’t compromise,” Zhenniang said. Today Uncle Jingdong had made his stance clear—the Tian family would have to step over his dead body to requisition the pine wood.
“I think your Seventh Grandmother will make a choice,” Old Shopkeeper Li said after some thought.
Better than having the workshop closed down. Today’s suffering must be endured. As long as the workshop remained, there would be a chance for revival. Then would come the time to settle accounts with the Tian family.
“Grandfather, what compensation did you mention earlier?” Zhenniang suddenly asked.
“Requisition isn’t free usage but must be fairly exchanged—that’s the rule. Otherwise, workshops without tribute ink rights would have no way to survive,” Old Shopkeeper Li said.
“Oh,” Zhenniang nodded, understanding. Put that way, compromise wasn’t entirely impossible.
“Grandfather, did the Luo family’s pine forest fall to the Tian family?” Zhenniang asked.
“It should have,” Old Shopkeeper Li said.
“Could I have Seventh Grandmother negotiate to exchange for ten years of logging rights to the Tian family’s pine forest?” Zhenniang said.
“Exchange ten years of logging rights for the pine forest? In normal times, wouldn’t the Tian family lose terribly? But now with the pine plague, who knows how many usable pines remain? If all the pines in the forest are infected with pine plague, it would be a useless forest—what good would exchanging for it do?” Old Shopkeeper Li said.
“Grandfather, when you used to cut pines, how did you handle the pine roots buried in the ground?” Zhenniang suddenly asked.
“What’s there to handle? Just let them rot in the ground as fertilizer. Never paid them any mind,” Old Shopkeeper Li said.
“Well Grandfather, do you know that these pine roots form pine resin oil as they decompose in the soil? The smoke material from this pine resin oil produces even better quality than the original pine trees,” Zhenniang said.
“Is that so?” Old Shopkeeper Li’s eyes widened. No joke—how many such pine roots were there in all the major pine forests? If so, wouldn’t the raw material problem be completely solved?
“Granddaughter has tried it before,” Zhenniang said. She was grateful now that Old Shopkeeper Li had moved out early and didn’t understand the original owner’s affairs, otherwise, it would have been hard to explain.
“Good, tomorrow I’ll go up the mountain with you to dig some up and see. If it’s truly as you say, then how about exchanging this batch of pine wood for ten years of logging rights to the Tian family’s forest? I think Old Ninth wouldn’t mind from the afterlife,” Old Shopkeeper Li said rather cheerfully.