Chapter 83: The Liu Family Plow Workshop

Late at night, Liu Yitiao lay in bed, unable to fall asleep for a long time. It wasn’t that his mind was preoccupied, but rather that the pain in his chest was unbearable. During the day, he’d hardly noticed it, but as soon as he lay down and his body stilled, an irritating pain throbbed from the left side of his chest. It struck in waves, like the tide, making Liu Yitiao grimace with each surge.

“Damn that old eunuch! Curse you a thousand times!” Liu Yitiao couldn’t help but curse inwardly. At the same time, a chill of fear washed over him. If a dying blow from the old eunuch could leave him in this state, what would have happened if he’d faced him at the peak of his strength? He’d have ended up in the same sorry condition as Gongsun Helan.

He exhaled, letting his body go limp against the mattress, relaxing every limb. Slowly, he began to steady his breathing, keeping each inhale and exhale within a measured rhythm, minimizing the rise and fall of his chest to ease the pain. After half an hour of this, the pressure in his chest finally eased, and he drifted into sleep.

The next day, Liu Yitiao woke only when the sun was high in the sky—his first time rising this late since arriving in the Tang Dynasty. No doubt it was due to his internal injuries. He got up and rubbed his left chest; fortunately, the pain was much less than the night before.

After dressing, Liu Yitiao stepped outside. The sun hung brightly overhead, promising another clear day and mild temperature. At this rate, he reckoned, in seven days at most they’d be able to start clearing and cultivating the land.

Remembering the matter of the Quyuan Plow workshop, he felt a pang of concern. He ate a quick breakfast left for him by Liu Hesh’s wife, then led his little donkey out the door, heading toward the Yuan residence in Xiar Village.

Yesterday, Li Zhide had mentioned he would come down to inspect the Liu Plow. He wondered whether Li had actually come, what the outcome had been, and whether the county’s permit had arrived.

When Liu Yitiao reached the Yuans’ house, Yuan Fang and his son were in the sitting room deep in discussion. Seeing Liu arrive, both stood up and warmly invited him in.

Once everyone was seated, Yuan Fang instructed Yuan Pei to serve tea, then turned to Liu Yitiao, a broad smile on his face.

“Seeing Uncle Yuan so delighted, something wonderful must have happened. Why not share it and let me take part in your good fortune?” Liu Yitiao said softly, accepting the cup Yuan Pei handed him.

“It’s not just good news—it’s tremendous!” Yuan Fang replied with a laugh. “Do you know who visited my house yesterday afternoon?” Without waiting for an answer, he continued, “It was Magistrate Li himself! Never in our family’s history have we received such an important official. This is all thanks to you, Mr. Liu. I must express my gratitude.”

Liu Yitiao set his teacup down, watching Yuan Fang’s excitement. Yuan Fang was clearly a different breed from Honest Liu, who would be filled with dread at the mere mention of an official and would avoid them if possible. Yuan Fang, on the other hand, was so thrilled he looked as if he’d like to embrace the magistrate. Clearly, Yuan Fang was a man of ambition; such people often achieve great things—otherwise, he would never have thought to open a workshop.

Liu Yitiao, however, was far less moved. For one, he already knew; for another, he’d seen much more in his time. He’d even met with the highest leaders before—what was a mere county magistrate to him? So with a calm expression, he asked, “You’re too kind, Uncle Yuan. Did Magistrate Li express satisfaction with our Liu Plow? Did he say anything?”

At the mention of the Liu Plow, Yuan Fang’s confidence swelled. “No need to worry, Mr. Liu. Anyone with a bit of sense can see the merits of the Liu Plow. Yesterday, after Magistrate Li watched me plow a field myself, he was full of praise. He immediately issued an official permit. See for yourself—this was delivered from the county office just this morning.”

With that, Yuan Fang took a small folded document from his breast pocket and handed it to Liu Yitiao. “The workshop and apprentices have all been arranged since yesterday. With this permit, we can officially begin work this afternoon.”

Liu Yitiao examined the permit, which resembled a business license from the twenty-first century: “Workshop Name: Liu Plow Workshop. Owner: Yuan Fang. Address: Sanyuan County, Xiar Village. Personally inspected by Magistrate Li Zhide of Sanyuan County.” Above these words was a large red official seal.

So the permit had been personally approved by Li Zhide. Clearly, Li saw great value in this workshop. Closing the document, Liu Yitiao smiled with renewed confidence. No matter how upright an official, few could resist the lure of personal gain or fame. It was the same with Wang Zhihong before, and now with Li Zhide. As long as Li, the county magistrate, supported them, what could possibly fail in Sanyuan County?

Returning the permit to Yuan Fang, Liu Yitiao said with a smile, “In that case, I’ll leave it to you and Uncle Yuan to set up the workshop as quickly as possible. Let’s produce as many Liu Plows as we can before the spring sowing, make the workshop’s name known, and then plan for greater things.”

“Rest assured, Mr. Liu, we’re on top of it,” Yuan Fang replied, detailing his arrangements: “The workshop is in a vacant house at the east end of the village. All the tools and wood have been acquired. Once the apprentices arrive, we can start right away. For the first batch, we’re taking on ten apprentices, each responsible for making just one part of the plow. Each one should be able to make at least ten pieces a day.”

“Of course, the most crucial components will be made by my son and me personally. So in the short term, you needn’t worry about anyone copying the Liu Plow,” Yuan Fang added.

“Thank you for your thoroughness, Uncle Yuan,” Liu Yitiao nodded in approval. Yuan Fang had thought of everything, even how to prevent counterfeiting before production had begun—a sign of real foresight.

Yuan Fang then invited him, “Why don’t I accompany you to the east side of the village to look over the workshop? After all, you are the true owner of the Liu Plow Workshop. You should see it for yourself.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Liu Yitiao waved him off. “I have complete confidence in you, Uncle Yuan. I won’t interfere; you have full authority over everything.”

From the start, Liu Yitiao had been clear-minded: business may be profitable, but it was not the proper path. Merchants in this society had no real status and were looked down upon. He did not want to be deeply involved. He would invest money but not labor, and would keep his connection to the workshop hidden—even the official owner was Yuan Fang, not himself. In the future, if anyone tried to investigate, they would find nothing.

“Since you trust me so much, Mr. Liu, I will not let you down!” Yuan Fang replied solemnly, bowing with cupped hands. For the sake of his forty percent share of the profits, he would not slack off.

——

Friendly recommendation: “Dragon’s Desire in the City,” Book ID: 1011166