Chapter Twenty-Seven: Opportunities Everywhere

Yan Qing naturally paid no mind to Xiong Dahai’s rudeness; in fact, he felt a surge of intense curiosity toward him.

This fellow had a remarkably robust physique—if he grew up, he might not be any less imposing than his uncle. Judging by the appearance of the elder boy, he was quite astonishing. He seemed unconcerned by the gaze of others, quietly finishing a large bowl of rice before heading out to the courtyard to busy himself. The elder boy’s main task was to operate the bellows and stoke the furnace.

The thick handle of the bellows was difficult to push, but the elder boy seemed accustomed to it, moving it with ease.

“Yan Qing, go outside for a walk. I have something to discuss with your Grandpa Da Hammer.”

Yan Qing agreed and left the main hall. He wandered about the courtyard, looking here and there with keen interest in everything.

The Xiong family’s ironworking skills were highly advanced and renowned throughout Luoyang. If they were forging weapons, Xiong’s products would undoubtedly be of the highest quality. Yet, they mostly made farming tools—a case of using a broadsword to kill a chicken, overkill for the task. Because of their superior forging techniques, Xiong’s farming tools cost thirty to forty percent more than ordinary ones. This was after Grandpa Da Hammer had already compromised his methods; if they forged as if making weapons, the cost would at least double.

But farming tools were not weapons for war and slaughter—they didn’t require such high standards.

Thus, Xiong’s ironworks became famous for their quality, infamous for their price, and notorious for their lackluster business. Yet Grandpa Da Hammer refused to lower his standards.

In his words: “The craft passed down from my ancestors is now in its seventh generation. The reputation of Xiong’s Ironworks was built by my grandfather—it cannot be ruined in my hands. I’d rather see business falter than lower our standards. This is the foundation of Xiong’s.”

Such stubbornness had led to ever-worsening business. The entire household, dozens in all, survived on the ironworks… barely scraping by.

“Blackie!”

Hearing someone call him, Xiong Dahai looked up and saw Yan Qing. He replied in a hearty voice, “What is it?”

“Is this a plow?”

“Yes.” Xiong Dahai pumped the bellows as he explained, “Our plows are the best in all Luoyang. Look at the plowhead—so sharp. With our plow, you can till the land quickly and well. No other family can compare.”

Yan Qing uttered a brief “oh” and squatted nearby.

Beside Xiong Dahai was a newly assembled plow, but Yan Qing felt its design differed from the plows he’d seen before. It looked rather heavy, with a long straight beam—not very convenient for tilling.

Still, he had to admit, the quality of Xiong’s plows was exceptional.

Yan Qing examined the plow closely, lost in thought.

It was no wonder; the plows he had seen in his previous life were mostly of the curved beam type. The famed Jiangdong plow, a curved beam plow, appeared in the late Tang dynasty. Compared to the long straight beam plow, the curved design was more flexible and scientific. After its invention, the basic structure remained unchanged through Song, Yuan, and Ming—a major innovation of the late Tang.

Suddenly, Yan Qing had a wild idea: what if he introduced the curved beam plow ahead of its time? Could that rescue Tianjin Bridge’s market?

Yes, that was a promising direction.

But he couldn’t let the Zheng family get involved, or else, even if Tianjin Bridge was saved, the benefits wouldn’t come to him. This needed to be discussed with Zheng Shian. If he couldn’t benefit directly, at least Zheng Shian should. After all, the two of them, grandfather and grandson, were now a united front—whoever benefited, it was all the same.

With this in mind, Yan Qing chatted idly with Xiong Dahai while studying the structure of the long straight beam plow.

The curved beam plow consisted of eleven parts, and Yan Qing remembered seeing diagrams in his previous life. Recalling them all at once was difficult, but since the curved beam plow evolved from the straight beam version, careful observation would help jog his memory.

“Yan Qing, it’s time for us to head back.”

Zheng Shian, having finished his talk with Grandpa Da Hammer and calmed him, was ready to return to the manor.

He saw Yan Qing squatting beside a plow, conversing with Xiong Dahai. Zheng Shian was puzzled and called out.

“Child, what are you talking about with Blackie?”

Grandpa Da Hammer, being Zheng Shian’s old comrade, was also very affectionate toward Yan Qing.

“Grandpa Xiong, I was discussing this plow with Blackie.”

“Ha, the child has a good eye. This plow was crafted by my own hands. If you like it, you may have it.”

Zheng Shian frowned and quickly protested, “How could that be?”

He meant: My Yan Qing doesn’t farm, what use is a plow for him?

But Grandpa Da Hammer glared, “Big Nose, I’m giving it to the child, not to you—why are you interfering? It’s settled then. Since you like it, tonight Blackie will deliver it to the manor.”

“Thank you, Grandpa Xiong.”

“Hehehe, such a smart and sensible child. Big Nose, you’re truly lucky to have such a grandson. Compared to him, my Blackies can hardly make a mark. Child, if you ever make it big and become a grand steward like your grandfather, you must help look after my Blackies.”

Though Grandpa Da Hammer appeared rough and burly, he was no fool.

The plow was not a gift without strings attached—there were conditions… Yan Qing smiled and nodded, accepting.

Grandpa Da Hammer was even more pleased, thumping Zheng Shian’s shoulder, “Big Nose, your grandson is far more straightforward than you.”

Zheng Shian grinned and exchanged a few more pleasantries before leaving Xiong’s Ironworks with Yan Qing.

——————————————————————

“Grandpa, I have an idea that might help Grandpa Xiong and his family improve their situation.”

On the way back, Yan Qing spoke up.

Zheng Shian’s eyes lit up. “What idea? Tell me quickly.”

He still felt a deep bond with his old brothers from Tianjin Bridge. Of course he wanted to help them, but his abilities were limited. He knew his grandson was clever and full of schemes. If there really was a way to help his old friends live better, he would be delighted.

“But I have a condition.”

“What condition?”

“You mustn’t tell the Master, nor let the young lords know.”

Zheng Shian was startled. “Why?”

“No reason—I just don’t want them to know.”

Zheng Shian understood. Yan Qing was dissatisfied with the Zheng family… that discontent likely arose after Cui Daolin arrived, and seeing Tianjin Bridge’s market today had deepened it.

But they were Zheng’s people, generations serving the family. To keep secrets from Zheng’s household?

Zheng Shian realized Yan Qing wanted him to take the lead, to win the hearts of Tianjin Bridge. If Yan Qing’s method succeeded and the Zheng family took credit, the good reputation would belong to them, and their own efforts would go unrewarded. If he acted privately, the benefits would come to him.

But wasn’t this unfair to the Master… Zheng Shian was dissatisfied with Zheng Renji, but it never affected his loyalty to Zheng Dashen.

“Yan Qing, about this…”

“Grandpa, listen to me. If you give the good reputation to the young lord, he won’t necessarily appreciate it. Besides, stopping Tianjin Bridge’s monthly stipend was Madam’s idea—she probably meant to teach the old soldiers a lesson. If you present a solution, wouldn’t that go against Madam’s wishes? The young lord doesn’t manage the household; Madam rules Luoyang. If you tell him, Madam will be displeased and treat us even worse.”

Zheng Shian took a deep breath, lost in thought.

Yan Qing’s reasoning made sense.

Yet, a lifetime of loyalty to Zheng’s household made it hard for him to suddenly consider keeping benefits for himself. He thought for a moment and asked softly, “Yan Qing, do you really have a way to help the old brothers improve their lives?”

“I do!”

“What way?”

Yan Qing stopped, seeing no one around.

He went to the donkey, pulled a pair of scissors from the bundle on its back. “Grandpa, the answer lies in these Dragon Shears.”

In ancient times, scissors were called ‘Dragon Shears’ and had a long history.

However, during the Sui and Tang dynasties, scissors differed from later versions. They had no pivot or axis, just a single iron strip with both ends forged into blades and sharpened. The strip was bent so the two blades faced each other. When not in use, the scissors naturally opened; when pressed on the blades, they could cut. In principle, they were like modern tweezers.

Later generations also made scissors in this form, but their use was limited and their numbers few.

Yan Qing had noticed this problem long ago in Xingyang.

When Aunt Xu tailored clothes for him with such scissors, they always seemed inconvenient. He hadn’t found the right opportunity until today at Xiong’s Ironworks. But the prerequisite was Zheng Shian agreeing to his terms.

“This thing… costs maybe forty or fifty coins. Can it really improve their situation?”

“Hehe, as long as you agree to my condition, I have a way to help everyone live better. Don’t underestimate this. Who doesn’t mend and sew? How many households are there in Luoyang? One pair of Dragon Shears per home—that’s thousands. And cutting isn’t their only use—there are plenty more. If we take this business, I dare say, before long, sixty percent of households will own one.”

“Hiss…”

Zheng Shian kept drawing sharp breaths.

This child’s boast was enormous.

The world wasn’t just Tianjin Bridge’s ironworks—how could sixty percent buy their scissors? Madness.

“All right, if you really can come up with a way, I’ll agree.”

Yan Qing immediately said, “Good, a promise is a promise. Grandpa, you can’t go back on your word. Dragon Shears are only the first step—I have better ideas. If you renege, I’ll never help Tianjin Bridge again.”

“Fine, fine, fine!” Zheng Shian nodded with a smile.

But inside, he still doubted Yan Qing could really come up with a good solution.

Back at the manor, Yan Qing shut himself in his room, fetched some paper, and drew the design for the scissors of later times. The construction wasn’t complicated—just whether he could recall it. The key was the pivot and axis; Yan Qing soon sketched the diagram.

After drawing the scissors, he pondered a moment and then designed a trademark.

Though the Sui and Tang didn’t have brands as we know them, people had a rudimentary sense of them. For example, in Luoyang, if one mentioned steamed buns, everyone thought first of Bo Luo’s shop—an early form of branding.

Scissors weren’t hard to make, but once Tianjin Bridge’s scissors came out, there would soon be imitations.

The key was to build a brand, like the famous Wang Mazi and Zhang Xiaoqian of later times. When people thought of scissors, they thought of these brands. Yan Qing didn’t know Zhang Xiaoqian’s era, but he had an idea: call it Xiong’s Scissors.

The head of Xiong’s was Grandpa Da Hammer—draw a big hammer, and write “Xiong” on the hammerhead. That would be enough for people to distinguish them. The more Yan Qing thought, the happier he felt. Looking at the blueprint, he couldn’t help but smile with satisfaction.

By evening, Xiong Dahai really delivered the plow.

Zheng Shian didn’t know why Yan Qing was so interested in it, so he had Xiong Dahai leave it in the courtyard.

“Grandpa, go to Tianjin Bridge and have Grandpa Da Hammer forge a hundred pairs according to the blueprint. Make sure to mark them with this logo… Grandpa, you promised me you wouldn’t tell the Master. This is just the first step—if you renege, don’t expect me to help Tianjin Bridge ever again.”

Looking at the strange scissors on the paper, Zheng Shian felt uncertain. Could Yan Qing’s design really be useful?

Well, it wouldn’t hurt to try. If it failed, he could cover the cost himself. A hundred pairs wouldn’t be much.

So, with doubts in his heart, Zheng Shian went to discuss matters with Grandpa Da Hammer.

Yan Qing put his mind at ease and went to the study to read.

As for the curved beam plow, there was no rush. He would first observe people’s receptivity—Xiong’s Scissors were only the beginning…