Transmigrating to the Qi Family - Chapter 105

The kiln site is about two li away from the farm. A small hill blocks the view, and standing in front of it, one would never imagine that there is something hidden behind.

When Jiang Miao and his group arrive, the workers are in the midst of a bustling scene—quite literally a fiery one!

It is the height of summer, and even before getting close, one can feel the heatwave surging towards them. The air seems distorted by the high temperature, and for a moment, Jiang Miao feels as if she is back on a scorching 40-degree asphalt road in modern times.

“Young madam, you should stand farther back. It’s too hot here,” Old Lin advises. The men inside are all wearing just thin undershirts, but even so, they are drenched in sweat. Jiang Miao, wrapped in multiple layers of elegant clothing, feels the heat even more intensely.

“How long does it take to fire a kiln like this?” Jiang Miao asks, eyeing the tall earth kilns in front of her, where fierce flames are burning. Several strong men are stationed by the kiln openings, continuously feeding logs as thick as thighs to maintain the temperature inside.

“Typically, it takes seven to eight days, but if the items are large, it might take longer. After the bisque is formed, it has to be glazed. Once the glaze is dry, the items are placed in a color kiln for a second firing to finish the process…” Old Lin becomes quite talkative when discussing kilns, clearly knowledgeable about the subject.

Jiang Miao is impressed. In this kind of weather, he finds it unbearable just cooking in the kitchen, yet these men have to endure such extreme heat for extended periods.

“Where do they gather the materials for the kiln?” Jiang Miao asks after watching for a while.

“Just ahead, there’s a small river nearby, which makes the work more convenient,” Old Lin says, leading them forward. After a short walk, the sound of rushing water becomes audible. A group of people has set up a production line along the riverbank. Some are selecting and preparing materials, while others are mixing clay and making molds, all working in a coordinated and orderly manner.

Jiang Miao walks to the front to inspect the materials they are using. There are piles of different-colored ores, along with other items that he can’t quite identify.

Amid the ore piles, an old man with graying hair sits on a small stool, sorting through the stones on the ground and organizing them. His hands are dark and rough, covered in many scars.

“That’s Old Li. He was once an expert at shaping and firing kilns, but now that he’s older, he can only do the stone-sorting work,” Manager Hu says softly, with a hint of regret in his tone. In the past, the glass ornaments that Old Li supervised sold for a much higher price.

“Who taught him the art of glassmaking?” Jiang Miao asks, curious.

Manager Hu is momentarily at a loss for words; he hasn’t looked into that.

“Uncle, is this stone no good?” Jiang Miao asks, noticing that Old Li has picked up a brown stone and tossed it aside. To him, this stone doesn’t seem any different from the others.

Old Li glances at him and, after a moment, replies, “It has cracks. The pieces made from it will break easily.”

Jiang Miao rummages through the pile of discarded stones and holds up a yellowish one. “What about this one? It doesn’t seem to have any cracks.”

“This one’s too hard and has impurities,” Old Li says.

Jiang Miao nods and continues picking out several stones to ask about. Though Old Li is a man of few words, when it comes to stones, he answers all of Jiang Miao’s questions.

Jiang Miao can’t help but admire him. The man clearly has true expertise—being able to assess the quality of glass just by looking at stones requires not only practical experience but also a certain level of talent.

“Uncle, do you think these stones could be used to make large, colorless, transparent glass?” Jiang Miao points to the pile of good-quality stones Old Li has sorted out.

Old Li gives him a look as if he were foolish. These stones all have color; how could they possibly be used to make colorless, transparent glass?

“They can’t? Then, if I want to make something like that, what kind of stone should I use?” Jiang Miao asks, unbothered by being looked down upon by a professional. It is no big deal.

“Something like this,” Old Li replies, rummaging through the pile of stones and pulling one out to place in front of Jiang Miao.

Jiang Miao picks up the stone and examines it thoroughly but can’t discern any differences. “Are stones like this common?”

“Hard to find, not many,” Old Li says. After thinking for a moment, he adds, “Colorless glass ornaments don’t sell well.” Most people at the time prefer colored glass, much like they do with jade.

Jiang Miao sighs, realizing his hopes are dashed. Who knows when glass will actually be produced? But even if they have glass, it won’t matter. Greenhouse vegetables are too difficult to cultivate in ancient times. Even if a greenhouse is built, the final yield won’t come close to covering the high costs. Jiang Miao isn’t interested in doing a loss-making business.

Jiang Miao comes with enthusiasm and doesn’t leave disappointed. After visiting the glass factory hidden behind the small hill, he follows the farm steward, Old Lin, to inspect the estate. He finds the land to be fertile, with rich water and grass, and the yearly output can probably rival the earnings of a shop in Liangjing.

At noon, he enjoys a farmhouse meal. The aunt in charge of the cooking is very skilled. Whether it is the stewed chicken or the fresh vegetables from the fields, everything tastes delicious. Jiang Miao also has some homemade rice wine, which is sweet and smooth, with no strong aftereffects. He ends up drinking several bowls.

Seeing that he likes it, Old Lin cheerfully says, “If the young madam enjoys it, I’ll send a jar of rice wine with you when you leave. My daughter-in-law can’t finish it all by herself anyway.”

“You brewed it for your daughter-in-law to drink?”

“Of course, otherwise who would brew wine in this hot weather? It spoils easily. She just gave birth, so we make rice wine to stew food for her to help nourish her body,” Old Lin explains, his face full of joy.

“In that case, I can’t take it. Leave the wine for your daughter-in-law to recover.” Jiang Miao quickly declines, thinking it wouldn’t be right to take food meant for a new mother.

“Don’t be so polite with us. We’ve made a lot of it. What’s one jar?” Old Lin insists and has his son load a jar of wine onto Jiang Miao’s carriage. Naturally, Manager Hu isn’t left out either.

Both Jiang Miao and Manager Hu feel a bit embarrassed, so they pull out small trinkets they carry with them, using the excuse of giving a gift for the baby to hand over the items. Before Old Lin can react, the two quickly board the carriage and head back to Liangjing City.

Jiang Miao has originally planned to return to the Jiang residence that evening, but after checking the time, he decides against it. After parting ways with Manager Hu, he returns to the Duke’s mansion.

Aside from his wedding day when he enters through the main gate, the front gate has never been opened for him since. On most days, they use the side gate to enter and exit. It is said that the servants have other entrances, but Jiang Miao has never used them and doesn’t know where they are.

The servants in the mansion are still somewhat unfamiliar with him. As Jiang Miao walks through, he often feels like someone is watching him. But whenever he turns to look, he finds everyone with their heads lowered. It makes him uncomfortable, and this is one of the reasons he wants to move out.

Back in the courtyard, Jiang Miao lets out a sigh of relief. He feels that in this large household, the only normal people are those in Pei Che’s courtyard.

“Master Jiang, you’re finally back!” As soon as he enters the courtyard, a young servant boy comes forward. His name is Chang’an—not the ancient capital, but it still makes Jiang Miao think of that city, which is how he first remembered his name.

“What happened? Did something go wrong?” Jiang Miao asks curiously.

“It’s just that the young master has been waiting for you for a long time. He even ate much less at lunch today,” Chang’an replies.

It is around three in the afternoon, just the right time for some snacks. Jiang Miao asks Chang’an to go to the main kitchen and fetch a few ingredients. He plans to make a little snack to appease Xiao Mu.

Chang’an returns from the kitchen, beaming. In addition to what Jiang Miao has asked for, he also brings back a roasted chicken leg wrapped in oil paper.

Jiang Miao laughs. No wonder he’s so eager to run errands—there is a bonus involved. Seeing Jiang Miao’s knowing look, Chang’an becomes a bit embarrassed and quickly offers the chicken leg to him.

“I don’t want it. You can eat it yourself,” Jiang Miao says. Chang’an, who looks about thirteen or fourteen, is still growing, so it doesn’t matter if he is a bit greedy.

With Jiang Miao’s permission, Chang’an immediately takes out the chicken leg and devours it. While he eats, Jiang Miao takes out some glutinous rice flour, pours it into a bowl, and adds some warm water to knead it into a dough. He rolls the dough into thin strips, then cuts them into small pieces and shapes them into little balls.

After Chang’an finishes the chicken leg, he helps Jiang Miao boil water. As soon as the water starts bubbling, he quickly shouts, “Master Jiang, the water’s boiling!”

Jiang Miao, unhurried, adds a piece of rock sugar to the pot. Once the sugar has completely dissolved, he tosses the freshly made dough balls into the water. He stirs the pot a few times with a spatula to prevent them from sticking.

At first, the dough balls sink to the bottom, but before long, they float to the surface, slightly larger in size. Jiang Miao pours in half a jar of fermented rice wine and sprinkles some goji berries on top, making the dish not only visually appealing but also good for improving eyesight and replenishing blood.

Once the sweet rice wine dumplings are cooked, Jiang Miao ladles two bowls and places them on a tray, carrying them to the study.

As soon as the door opens, Pei Mu rushes out, shouting, “Brother Miao!”

Jiang Miao quickly raises the tray to keep the bowls from spilling as the child nearly collides with him.

“Master Jiang,” Chan Yi and Wen Jing greet in unison. Both young women are very tactful and have treated Jiang Miao with respect over the past few days.

“Thank you for your hard work. I made some sweet rice wine dumplings in the kitchen. There is still plenty left in the pot, so go have some yourselves,” Jiang Miao says.

Chan Yi and Wen Jing quickly thank him before heading off to the kitchen. Although the young master is well-behaved, taking care of him sometimes leaves them both mentally exhausted.

“Alright, alright, it’s my fault for coming back late. Look, I made something for you! If you don’t eat it soon, it’ll get cold!” Jiang Miao says quickly, trying to make up for it as the accusation in Pei Mu’s eyes is all too clear. He hurriedly brings out the sweet dumplings to apologize. The sweet aroma from the bowl catches Pei Mu’s attention, and as Jiang Miao places the dumplings on the desk, Pei Mu follows. “Go ahead, eat,” Jiang Miao says.

The two of them sit across from each other, each taking a spoonful of dumplings. The combination of the lightly sweet fermented rice and the soft, chewy dumplings makes them feel incredibly content. Pei Mu clearly feels the same—he loves sweets, and this bowl of dumplings hits the spot. After finishing one bowl, he simply says, “More.”

“No more. If you eat more, you won’t have room for dinner later,” Jiang Miao says firmly, never indulging the children too much when it comes to food.

Pei Mu obediently responds with an “Oh” and doesn’t protest further, though he gives the empty bowl a longing glance, his eyes full of desire.

After a while, he looks away and slowly asks, “Brother Miao, going back?”

“One more night of rest. We’ll head back tomorrow morning,” Jiang Miao replies.

“Oh,” Pei Mu murmurs, lowering his eyes, his expression a bit downcast. He has been staying here for a long time—why can’t he go back yet? He already misses Xiao Bai.

Jiang Miao feels a bit helpless. This child really doesn’t consider this place home at all. But he understands; if one has lived in such an environment for a long time, constantly getting bullied, who would develop any fondness for this place?