After completing her tour of the workshop supported by Ma Sao, Miss Zhen removed the blindfold and blinked several times to adjust to the light. She then discussed some matters regarding flame control during smoke production with Workshop Head Wu before departing.
After her departure, the workers in the shed began discussing among themselves: “Miss Zhen is truly remarkable…”
“It’s over, it’s over. With Miss Zhen being so knowledgeable, it’ll be even harder to slack off now.” Needless to say, this came from Ergou.
“Enough, everyone focus on your work. Maintain proper heat control, keep to medium flame, and make sure the oil levels are full. I don’t want our workshop producing inferior quality soot—that would shame us all,” Wu Mingquan addressed everyone.
Stimulated by Miss Zhen’s earlier demonstration and Wu Mingquan’s words, the smoke production workers were newly motivated. They concentrated intensely on their work, eyes fixed on the flames, adjusting at the slightest fluctuation. They remained especially alert, carefully sniffing the smoke to determine the perfect timing for soot collection.
As a result, by noon, the workshop’s soot quality was notably higher than usual, much to Wu Mingquan’s delight.
At this time, the cook arrived with their meals.
“Miss Zhen has ordered that everyone gets an extra spoonful of meat today for their hard work,” the plump cook announced with a grin.
Upon hearing they would get meat, the smoke workers didn’t even bother to wash their faces and hands, grabbing their bowls with blackened hands and face to get their food, earning mockery from the cook.
The tough workers paid no mind to such teasing. The more impudent ones even responded with some playful banter, until the annoyed cook threatened to withhold their meat, which quickly brought them back to politeness.
“Uncle Quan, I’m going to check on Ugly Woman,” Ergou said casually, bowl in hand as he squeezed next to Wu Mingquan.
Wu Mingquan glanced at him sideways, noting the untouched meat in his bowl. He knew the boy intended to give the meat to Ugly Woman. Though Ergou was quite annoying, he did show some filial piety. Wu Mingquan nodded, “Go ahead but come back quickly. If you’re late, I’ll dock your month’s wages.”
“I guarantee I won’t be late,” Ergou swore, raising his hand. His monthly wages were his lifeline—how could he risk having them docked?
With that, he dashed off toward the Li residence’s back gate, bowl in hand.
The Li household’s back courtyard had a gate connecting to the ink workshop, originally made for Old Madam’s convenience. Ugly Woman was the gatekeeper there.
Ugly Woman’s face was covered in burn scars, making her appearance frightening. She had been taken in by Old Master Li years ago and now guarded the back gate. Her temperament was peculiar, and she didn’t get along with anyone except shameless characters like Ergou. Usually, she remained as silent as a ghost.
“Granny, have some meat. It’s extra from Miss Zhen,” Ergou scraped the meat from his bowl into Ugly Woman’s.
“Miss Zhen? I heard you all tried to show her who’s boss today but ended up being shown up instead,” Ugly Woman put a piece of fatty meat in her mouth while returning the lean meat to Ergou’s bowl—her teeth weren’t good enough for tough meat anymore.
“Aiyo, so this news has reached your ears too? Ah, we’ve completely lost face,” Ergou sighed dramatically.
“This is good. It lets you rascals see that there are always better people out there. Stop being so arrogant just because you’ve learned a bit about smoke production,” Ugly Woman said coldly.
“Yes, yes, your teaching is right,” Ergou grinned, completely unbothered. He quickly shoveled the rice into his mouth and mumbled to Ugly Woman, “Enjoy your meal, I’m off. Uncle Quan is getting harder to deal with these days.”
With that, he put down his bowl and chopsticks and ran back—if he was late, Uncle Quan really would dock his wages.
“Ergou, I heard your smoke workshop tried to show Miss Zhen who’s boss today but ended up being shown up instead. You lot are making something of yourselves, aren’t you?”
As Ergou was running, he heard these words and looked up to see Zheng Fuli speaking. He spat in disgust.
Zheng Fuli was Manager Shao’s grandson and Manager Zheng’s son, nineteen years old this year.
Relying on the influence of Manager Shao and Manager Zheng in the workshop, Zheng Fuli had quite a comfortable position. Especially since becoming Master Qin’s apprentice two years ago and taking over ink mixing duties, he had become even more arrogant, looking down on the smoke production laborers.
Naturally, the smoke production workers despised him in return, and the two sides often clashed, each finding the other disagreeable.
Now that this incident had occurred in the smoke production shed, Zheng Fuli and his group naturally took the opportunity to mock them.
“Of course, we’re making something of ourselves. Thanks to Miss Zhen’s guidance today, our smoke workshop’s soot quality has improved again. Now it’s up to your ink mixing workshop—if you still can’t produce good oil-smoke ink like before, you’ll have to answer to Miss Zhen yourself. Don’t use our soot as an excuse anymore,” Ergou whistled, looking at Zheng Fuli with disdain.
The Li family was famous for pine-soot ink, which emphasized light glue, while oil-smoke ink required heavy glue. Different glues meant vastly different mixing formulas. The Li family had only recently begun developing oil-smoke ink, so their quality wasn’t ideal. In such situations, each side would blame the other—Zheng Fuli’s group would criticize the soot quality, while the smoke workshop would claim the mixing technique was poor. These disputes generated endless private grievances.
Now, Ergou’s words were mocking the ink-mixing workshop’s technical ability.
“Who’s making excuses? You’re all hopeless—I bet Miss Zhen’s guidance will be wasted on you,” Zheng Fuli and his group sneered back.
“Save your breath. We’ll see who’s right when this batch of soot is graded,” Ergou said with a wait-and-see attitude. Master Wu had already said this morning’s soot would be first-grade. Now it would be their turn to laugh at Zheng Fuli’s group.
With that, he waved dismissively and hurried back to the workshop, ignoring Zheng Fuli’s group.
“Hmph.” Zheng Fuli watched Ergou’s retreating figure and snorted coldly.
“Master Zheng, this morning Manager Shao sent someone to tell us to prepare for ink mixing, saying Miss Zhen wants to make recycled ink. You don’t think she’s going to pull the same kind of show in our workshop, do you?” An apprentice whispered in Zheng Fuli’s ear.
“Just prepare as instructed and we’ll see what happens,” Zheng Fuli said with a dark expression. Having been groomed as a master craftsman from childhood, he had his pride. He wanted to see what kind of recycled ink Miss Zhen could produce.
With that thought, he led his group back to the ink mixing workshop—they still needed to make preparations.
At noon, Miss Zhen had lunch at the Li residence, discussing workshop matters with Madam Chen and others. She also visited Seventh Grandmother, who remained in her usual state—a sight that pained the heart.
Thinking about the afternoon’s recycled ink mixing task, Miss Zhen didn’t stay long. After bidding farewell to Madam Chen and the others, she entered the workshop through the back courtyard. Passing by the well platform, she saw an elderly woman bent over, struggling to lift a bucket of water.
“Granny, let me help,” Miss Zhen hurried forward.
The old woman raised her face, and Miss Zhen involuntarily gasped—the face was covered in reddish-brown scars, and the mouth was twisted by the scars, looking like something from a horror film.
“Ah, it’s Ugly Woman,” Miss Zhen took a deep breath before greeting her, recognizing her as the back gatekeeper.
She occasionally used this back gate, but Ugly Woman’s peculiar nature meant she usually hid in her room. This was Miss Zhen’s first time seeing her.
“What? Scared?” Ugly Woman let out a strange laugh, her voice extremely hoarse and unpleasant.
“Yes, I was startled at first sight,” Miss Zhen admitted honestly. With such a face, claiming not to be frightened at first sight would be a lie.
She then stepped forward to lift the water bucket, following Ugly Woman.
“Put it down. No need for your fake pity,” Ugly Woman said in her hoarse voice, her tone emotionless.
Miss Zhen turned to smile at her: “Granny, this isn’t about pity. It’s just a small gesture, and do you think you need pity? Not, right? I’m helping you carry water simply as a junior showing some care, and besides, this water is too heavy for you. What’s wrong with Miss Zhen lending a hand?”
“Hmph.” Ugly Woman snorted.
Miss Zhen paid no mind, just looking at Ugly Woman and wondering privately what had caused her condition.
“There was no conspiracy, no intentional harm, just an accident,” Ugly Woman seemed to know what Miss Zhen was thinking and snorted coldly again.
“Mm.” Miss Zhen nodded calmly. Perhaps from reading too many novels, she tended to imagine all sorts of dramatic backstories in such situations. But thinking about it, how many truly dramatic stories were there in the world? Most things were just accidents.
Knowing Ugly Woman didn’t like to talk or interact with people, Miss Zhen said no more. They walked in silence until she helped Ugly Woman deliver the water, then returned to the workshop where Ma Sao was waiting. Together, they went to the ink mixing workshop.
Master Qin was both the workshop’s grand master and the ink-mixing master. The ink mixing workshop was the most important section, handling both ink mixing and glue brewing.
The waste ink had been processed, and the first step was naturally to steam out the old glue, and then mix in new glue to create recycled ink. Of course, the most crucial part was matching the glue properly. Each master had their unique technique for glue matching—none could be said to be better than others, just different in their characteristics.
“Who will handle the glue matching?” Manager Shao asked.
Master Qin stroked his beard, about to take charge, when Zheng Fuli suddenly said, “I think recycled ink is different from new ink, so the glue matching method must also differ. None of us knows where to start—why don’t we let Miss Zhen try first?”
“Miss Zhen, what do you think?” Master Qin understood Zheng Fuli’s intention, and he wanted to see what expertise Miss Zhen had in ink mixing and glue application.
“Alright, I’ll do it,” Miss Zhen replied. Since she had proposed making recycled ink, it made sense for her to handle the glue matching. She hadn’t spoken up earlier only because she was waiting for Master Qin’s arrangements, as he was the workshop’s grand master and an authority in this field.
So Miss Zhen took the tools and began following the procedures step by step.
At first, Master Qin and Zheng Fuli paid little attention, but their expressions grew increasingly serious as they watched.
Some people matched glue in one step, others in multiple steps.
Miss Zhen used the multiple-step method, similar to Master Qin, but he noticed her sequence of materials differed from his.
“Miss Zhen, why do you match green vitriol, indigo, and musk in the first step?” Zheng Fuli asked. Having learned Master Qin’s methods, he shared his master’s curiosity.
“Green vitriol and indigo are easy to work with, but musk easily absorbs moisture. Matching their glue first stabilizes their properties, preventing them from changing and absorbing moisture. This way, the final ink won’t develop off-odors or soften from moisture,” Miss Zhen explained while continuing her work.
Glue stabilization required oxidation, and adding it first allowed for more complete oxidation.
For the second glue matching, Miss Zhen added Chinese goldthread and soapberry. For the third, she added gardenia seeds.
Finally, the ink mixing was successful.
“Chinese goldthread enhances ink luster, so adding it in the middle helps the luster penetrate the ink body, and gardenia seeds prevent glue discoloration and insects, so adding it last makes sense. But why add soapberry in the middle?” This time it was Master Qin asking. He usually added soapberry last.
“Soapberry removes moisture, but if added in the final step, its exposed properties would cause the ink to dry out, leading to cracking. Therefore, it’s better to add it in the middle, preserving its properties while preventing over-exposure—this is the middle way,” Miss Zhen explained.
These were things her grandfather had researched in her previous life. While not everything might be correct, there were certainly some unique insights.
Hearing this, everyone present exchanged glances. The Li family’s oil-smoke ink had exactly this cracking problem—the ink was fine in the south, but in the north, it would crack after a short time. Could the problem lie here?