When Ye Tao got up, Chen Chuan was already gone; even the gangplank had been stowed away. He must have left at some point. 

He sat on the bed for a while, then went out to wash up. After cooking breakfast, he filled the water jar to the brim—with Chen Chuan gone, this was now his job. Lin Niangzi cut a piece of new thin silk cloth with the outline of an orchid sketched on it and asked Ye Tao, “Have you finished embroidering that piece from last time? Let me take a look.”

Ye Tao hesitated. Thinking he hadn’t finished it, Lin Niangzi said, “It’s all right, let me take a look first.”

“No, Chen Chuan took it. He said his handkerchief was dirty and the stain wouldn’t come out.”

Lin Niangzi was puzzled. “If a handkerchief gets dirty, you can just cut a new piece of cloth. What does a man like him need an embroidered thin silk handkerchief for?” Ye Tao stammered for a moment before saying, “I sold it to him for ten wen.”

Lin Niangzi was taken aback for a moment, then laughed, “You two are something else.”

Her expression took on a nostalgic air: “When I was living at my parents’ house, I used to sell the handkerchiefs I’d ruined with my embroidery to my older brother, too.” For some reason, Ye Tao felt a twinge of guilt. 

Lin Niangzi didn’t just give Ye Tao an assignment; she gave Zhenniang one too. Hers was even more complicated than Ye Tao’s. Lin Niangzi simply gave him a pattern she’d embroidered long ago and told him to copy it.

Ye Tao took a look and realized that Chen Chuan had actually overestimated himself when he said he’d learned from Zhenniang. When Lin Niangzi was teaching him, she’d been very consultative, as if she were afraid of not pacing the lessons correctly—but that was because she’d never had an apprentice before. Zhenniang, the only one who’d ever learned from her, didn’t need to be taught at all.

Even in such a small corner, one could see the liveliness of Zhenniang’s stitching. Deciding against skipping ahead, Ye Tao dutifully embroidered his own orchid leaves.

Zhenniang, after all, was still young and couldn’t sit still; as soon as she finished a strand of thread, she said she was going to play with Xiao’e. Lin Niangzi didn’t stop her, but she did forbid her from playing with water or wandering too far away.

Zhenniang obediently agreed.

Ye Tao hadn’t gone out yet; he was making a schoolbag today, and since there was no cutting table outside, he had to cut the fabric at home.

The structure of a crossbody bag is very simple; there was no need to draw a detailed pattern. Ye Tao made a few marks with a charcoal stick and began cutting right away.

Granny Qiao had brought all scraps left over from making clothes. It was more than enough for a single layer, but for a double layer, he’d have to piece it together—requiring very precise calculations with almost no leeway. Still, Ye Tao decided to make it double-layered; the corners of a single-layered bag were prone to fraying and lacked any real texture.

Since he was making it, he had to do his very best; repeat customers were earned by giving it his all every single time. Ye Tao tucked the fabric pieces into his basket and headed under the banyan tree to find Old Man Hong.

“Uncle Hong, I’d like to ask you to make something for me.” 

Last time, Ye Tao had asked him to make an embroidery hoop, so Old Man Hong assumed this was another tool. But then he saw Ye Tao pick up a twig and draw a “口” and asked, “A button roughly this shape—do you think you can make it?”

Old Man Hong first said he could do it, then asked, “How thick do you want it?”

Ye Tao pinched his thumb and index finger together to form a small gap: “This thick.”

“At this thickness, we can make it from either bamboo slats or bamboo strips. Do you want the slat version or the strip version?”

Ye Tao hadn’t realized he had a choice, so he asked, “Which one is better?”

Old Man Hong replied, “It depends on what you’re using it for. Bamboo strips look nicer and are easier to weave—I could make one for you right now. But if you want something sturdier, you’ll need bamboo slats. I’d have to find some old bamboo and shave it into strips, but I can’t do that right away.”

Ye Tao had originally leaned toward bamboo strips—as Old Man Hong said, the natural grain of the woven bamboo looked nicer—but durability was more important. After all, he couldn’t have someone make a backpack only to have to replace parts every few days.

“How long would it take to make one with bamboo strips? And how much would it cost?”

Old Man Hong thought for a moment, then asked, “How many do you want?”

Ye Tao was caught off guard by the question. Right now, he only needed one, of course, but judging by Old Man Hong’s tone, it seemed he could haggle for a better price if he ordered more. Since they’d become quite familiar with each other, Ye Tao asked him directly, “Can you give me a discount if I order more? I’d also like some 日-shaped ones—two per pair.” Old Man Hong said, “If you want twenty pairs, I’ll give you three wen per pair.”

Three wen per pair wasn’t expensive, but twenty pairs was really a bit much. These “日” character buckles were used to adjust the length of bag straps, and when used in combination with “口” character buckles, one bag only needed one pair—even a backpack would only require two pairs at most.

He currently had only one schoolbag order on hand, which would bring in a total of just twenty wen in labor fees. If he actually bought twenty pairs and couldn’t sell them all, he’d be stuck with the entire stock.

But then again, why should he just sit around waiting for customers to come in with custom orders?

Although there were quite a few people gathered under the banyan tree, most of them were struggling financially. Only a few, like Granny Qiao and Cook Qiao, could afford thin silk cloth. They were very price-sensitive, so even if he were skilled at mending, it would be difficult to raise his prices.

If he really wanted to make money, he couldn’t rely solely on mending; he had to find another way. Starting with bags would be a good idea.

Ye Tao had observed that most people’s bags either had fixed-length shoulder straps or relied on knots for adjustment—neither of which was very convenient. With this “日” buckle, he could easily buy fabric to make bags and sell them at the big market.

This type of shoulder bag has a wide range of uses, so it shouldn’t be hard to sell. At worst, he’d make a little less profit, but he certainly wouldn’t lose money.

Ye Tao had made up his mind. He said to Old Man Hong, “Let’s go with twenty pairs, then. But Uncle Hong, could you make one pair for me to check out first before making the rest?” 

“Don’t worry about that,” replied Old Man Hong.

When Granny Qiao arrived, Ye Tao was mending a pair of arm guards that Wang Xing had brought. The black arm guards looked quite nice, but unfortunately, there was a large tear on the surface. Seeing Granny Qiao, Ye Tao said, “The bag isn’t finished yet.”

Granny Qiao waved her hand. “I’m not here to rush you.”

She held the jar in her arms out a little further: “Look what I brought you.” Ye Tao saw she was holding a jar of pickled vegetables and assumed, “Pickled vegetables?”

Granny Qiao smiled. “You want pickles? You’ll have to wait until next time for those. This is a sourdough starter. I was originally going to trade it for some wheat flour, but when my niece heard it was for you, she said there was no need and told me to just bring it over.”

Ye Tao had originally just wanted to ask Granny Qiao to pass along a message—if Cook Qiao agreed, he would bring the flour over to exchange for it—but he hadn’t expected her to bring it over herself.

Granny Qiao said, “Scholar Zeng Dai is celebrating his birthday these next few days, and she’s busy preparing the banquet, so she really couldn’t spare the time. She asked me to bring this over directly. There’s also this dress—she bought it with a decorative collar strip and asked you to have it trimmed for her.”

This had been arranged earlier. Ye Tao glanced at the decorative collar strip and nodded.

Only after Ye Tao had finished mending the arm guards and Wang Xing had left did Granny Qiao ask him about the price. Ye Tao replied, “It’s no trouble at all; consider it a favor to repay her past kindness.”

Granny Qiao disagreed: “You should still charge what’s due. If you’re thanking her, just make it a little cheaper than for others.”

Ye Tao always listened to his elders; after thinking for a moment, he said, “Four wen, then.”

Granny Qiao handed him the money and explained, “It’s not that I’m paying—I’ll ask her for it when I get back. We have to keep proper accounts.”

Making the schoolbag wasn’t difficult. He worked on it in between other odd jobs, and by the next morning it was almost finished—only one shoulder strap remained to be attached.

Old Man Hong had carried several sections of thick bamboo over to the banyan tree and was now whittling bamboo strips; two finished pieces were already lying nearby. Spotting Ye Tao, he asked, “How big should I make that button for you?”

Ye Tao gestured: “Three finger-widths wide from side to side, two finger-lengths long from top to bottom—one with a crossbar in the middle, and one without.”

He was holding the bamboo strip vertically, and Old Man Hong shook his head as he looked at it: “Bamboo grows vertically, so the crossbar in the middle has to follow its natural grain; otherwise, it’ll snap easily.” Ye Tao didn’t know anything about this, so he gave an embarrassed smile: “That’s why you’re here, Uncle Hong—you take a look and show me.”

Old Man Hong followed Ye Tao’s measurements, first cutting a strip of bamboo, then hollowing out the center to leave a horizontal bar. Once Old Man Hong had sanded down the rough edges on the bamboo clasp, Ye Tao took it and threaded the shoulder straps through to test it. There was some resistance as they slid, but they didn’t get stuck. 

He nodded. “That’ll do. Make ten pairs of this style, and another ten pairs slightly narrower.” 

They could be used for backpacks later.

Ye Tao first secured the “口”-shaped buckle to one side of the shoulder bag. One end of the shoulder strap was already attached to the bag; the other end was threaded through the crossbar of the “日”-shaped buckle, then looped back through the “口”-shaped buckle from the outside and secured to the crossbar of the “日”-shaped buckle.

When Granny Qiao arrived, Ye Tao showed her the bag and demonstrated how to use the shoulder strap.

Just by watching him pull and tug, the strap would get longer and shorter. Granny Qiao couldn’t take her eyes off it for a long time; she even tried it herself and couldn’t stop praising him: “I knew you were skilled and smart. How did you come up with this?”

Ye Tao thought to himself with a twinge of guilt. It wasn’t his idea. He began to describe the bag to Granny Qiao.

The crossbody bag was about one chi wide and less than one chi tall.

“I cut the fabric separately for the sides, so it won’t wrinkle easily even if you put a few more books in it. It’s all double-layered fabric, and the shoulder strap here is four layers thick, so it shouldn’t tear easily.”

Following his instructions, Granny Qiao opened the flap, squeezed it in her hand, and gently tugged at the stitching to check the seams. It was indeed as he’d said—very sturdy. The more she looked at it, the more satisfied she became, and she exclaimed “Good!” three times in a row.

“You mend clothes so well, and you make bags so well—and at such a low price—I really feel a bit guilty.”

A bag like this would cost at least 140 or 150 wen if bought directly—and perhaps even more. Although she had provided the fabric herself, Granny Qiao knew she was getting a good deal and began to think about how she could repay him.

Ye Tao smiled and said, “Didn’t you say yourself that you’d sell it cheap at first, then raise the price once more people know about it? Take this bag, for example—if I were to take it to the big market, would anyone buy it?”

“There’ll definitely be buyers—just go ahead,” Granny Qiao assured him. “If you can’t sell them, bring them to me—I’ll take them for 140 wen each.”

Hearing her say that, Ye Tao felt even more confident.

Today was the 20th, and with four days left until the next big market, Ye Tao planned to make a few bags first and set up a stall at the market to test the waters.