Chapter 5: Clever Craftsman Song

Song Daya, her heart brimming with gossip, threw on her clothes, deftly slid down the edge of the bed, and shuffled off in her shoes to find her parents.

Only to find that they had already cut down enough moso bamboo to fill the courtyard and brought it back.

Oh, so her parents had gone off to do proper work…

Old Mother Wu helped Song Daya wash up squeaky clean and get tidied, set breakfast on a chair for her, brought over a small stool for her to sit on, and then went to help her son and daughter-in-law with whatever chores she could manage.

As she slurped her porridge, Song Daya thought to herself that her grandmother really never wasted a single word.

She could have at least asked how many pickled radish strips she wanted!

Having already made a lunchbox for his daughter, Song Dalang was experienced now, and the work went quickly.

However, though moso bamboo poles were thick, no two were identical, so he couldn’t make them exactly the same size.

Mei-shi offered Song Dalang suggestions on which pieces to use for lunchboxes and which for water canteens.

Mei-shi had originally wanted to call them water tubes^[1], but Song Daya had refused, insisting on water canteens.

“Since a teapot can be called a teapot, why can’t this be called a water canteen?” Song Daya argued, sounding quite reasonable. “Other folks have teapots, and we have water canteens!”

“Pfft!”

Old Mother Wu couldn’t help but chuckle.

Song Daya was quite pleased with herself.

Just look at her bright ideas, bursting out one after another!

The Jenny Song of her past life would have curled her lip: You call that a spark of genius? You’re just basking in borrowed light!

*

Song Dalang was truly skilled at woodworking.

He first sawed the bamboo into sections, carved out spouts, and then sanded them down with care. Watching him work was immensely satisfying.

A man focused on his work was truly handsome!

“Dad, sand down the inside of that opening a bit!” Song Daya directed her father, cupping her little head in her hands.

“Sand it how?” Song Dalang asked, puzzled.

“Like this, and like this…” Song Daya gestured wildly.

In truth, she just didn’t want the rim to be so sharp, lest it scrape against someone’s lips.

Song Dalang gave it a try and found that the finished piece not only looked nicer, but also felt much better to use.

Seeing that her father was cut out for this, Song Daya came up with another idea and began coaxing him.

“Dad, your work is so pretty. It would definitely be popular if you sold it, wouldn’t it?”

“It’s all right, I suppose,” Song Dalang replied in a low, muffled voice.

He was young, lacked experience, and his skills still had room to grow. People wouldn’t dare entrust him to craft expensive, large pieces of furniture like beds or couches on his own.

He mostly made stools, shelves, low tables, chests, and cabinets, only occasionally crafting clever little trinkets on the side.

In Song Daya’s view, that was already enough.

“Dad, have you ever thought about making a name for yourself?” Song Daya asked casually as she squatted on the ground, fiddling with the finished pieces.

This, Song Dalang had actually considered.

After all, in a trade like this, whether one had a reputation made a world of difference.

Just look at those famous master craftsmen: whenever they were invited to someone’s house to work, the host family would usher them in with the utmost respect, offer them the seat of honor, and serve them fine wine, good tea, and hearty meals.

As for anyone else, getting a bowl of coarse rice with a sliver of meat was already considered generous on the host’s part.

Song Dalang was only benefiting from his father’s reputation; otherwise, relying on himself to walk this path would have been completely out of the question.

Even if he apprenticed under another master, he couldn’t have hoped to finish his training without toiling for ten years without pay!

“Making a name for oneself isn’t easy,” Song Dalang sighed.

“Dad, look. In the neighboring village, someone named Zhang opened a smithy, and everyone calls him Blacksmith Zhang,” Song Daya offered. “Why don’t we call you Carpenter Song?”

Taken aback by her words, Song Dalang stared blankly.

Song Daya, however, felt she was being quite restrained.

Just look at the famous names from later generations, like Zhang Xiaoquan^[2], Wang Mazi, or Shibazi Zuo. Which of them hadn’t turned their own name into a brand?

“Dalang, that name actually sounds pretty good to me!” Mei-shi rather liked it.

Mei-shi had noticed that Song Daya had a natural fascination and persistence when it came to naming things.

She often changed the names of things on her own, aiming for something vivid, simple, and direct.

At first, the couple hadn’t been used to it, but once they grew accustomed, they realized her names were remarkably easy to remember.

“I only make small things like this. How could I go around calling myself Carpenter Song…” Song Dalang said, feeling embarrassed.

Song Daya grinned at her father’s bashful reluctance.

Her dad was taking the bait!

“You’re a carpenter who does woodwork, and your surname is Song. What’s wrong with calling yourself Carpenter Song?” Mei-shi chimed in, backing her daughter.

“No, it just feels like too grand a title…” Song Dalang still shook his head.

Even veteran masters wouldn’t dare take a name like that.

“Then instead of ‘carpenter’, how about ‘clever craftsman’?” Mei-shi suggested eagerly. “Look at what you’ve made. Without some clever ingenuity, you really couldn’t have made them!”

Song Dalang freed a hand to pat his daughter’s head, saying fondly, “It was all Da’ya’s idea. Without her, I couldn’t have made them either.”

“Dad, I think Clever Craftsman Song sounds great too,” Song Daya declared, settling the matter. “I’ve decided! Our family’s name will be Clever Craftsman Song!”

Song Daya didn’t even realize it herself, but an air of authority had slipped into her tone as she spoke, giving both Song Dalang and Mei-shi quite a start.

“Why does she seem a bit like the village head?” Song Dalang muttered to himself.

“Always full of ideas, aren’t you!” Mei-shi laughed, then asked, “And where did you hear about Blacksmith Zhang?”

“From Ergouzi!”

Just like that, without him even knowing it, Ergouzi earned the title of “Songjiatai’s Number One Partner” in Song Daya’s heart.

“Oh, right, Dad! Since we’ve picked a name, carve it onto the lunchboxes!”

That way, selling one would be just like running an advertisement.

“Well…” Song Dalang hesitated.

It wasn’t that he disliked the idea; the famous shops in the county town actually did just that.

It was just that the three characters for “Clever Craftsman Song” were a bit much. These bamboo lunchboxes and water canteens weren’t precious items to begin with, and it wouldn’t do if carving the name took more time and effort than making the piece itself.

Slowing down their pace like that would defeat the whole purpose.

“Then how about just carving the character ‘Song’?” Mei-shi suggested.

“And draw a circle around the ‘Song’!” Song Daya added.

Her original thought was something like the registered trademark symbols of later generations, but realizing her father probably wouldn’t understand, she simply changed tack.

“No circles. Draw a plum blossom^[3] instead to represent Ma! That way, both Dad’s and Ma’s names will be on it!”

Mei-shi froze for a moment. Once she grasped what her daughter meant, her eyes grew slightly warm.

Song Daya’s eyes darted over, catching sight of Old Mother Wu working quietly without a word. “A plum blossom has five petals^[4], so that includes Grandma’s name too!” she added.

Old Mother Wu felt a prickle in her eyes. She stood up in silence and went into the house.

Song Dalang was both touched and proud.

Touched that his daughter kept the whole family in her heart, and proud that this clever girl was his daughter!

“All of us are in it, so what about you?” Song Dalang teased his daughter.

Song Daya figured that was simple enough.

“Just carve the ‘Song’ bigger, and that’ll be me!”

Mei-shi chuckled helplessly.

Turns out they were all just there to make her stand out.