Chapter 9: Four Layers of Thatched Roof
On the night of the earthquake, Han Min sat on the railing and eventually fell asleep holding onto a post.
When he woke, it was already dawn.
A thick coat was draped over him, and he could hear neighbors outside the courtyard exchanging stories about the frightening events of the previous night.
The family had already cleaned the main hall, and breakfast was being set.
With dried tears on his face, feeling a little uncomfortable, Han Min rubbed his eyes and sat up.
Han Shi said, “Awake?”
Han Min rubbed his eyes. “Mm.”
“Do your eyes still hurt? Go wash your face and get ready for breakfast.”
“Okay.”
Today, the family gathered together again for breakfast, feeling a sense of relief and gratitude for having survived.
After breakfast, Han Min returned to his room.
Tiles had fallen from the roof, and dust covered the desk. He organized the manuscripts and scripts he had copied and recopied any parts that had gotten dirty.
Han Min planned to first deliver the manuscripts. After earning money, he would buy gray tiles and repair the roof at home.
Weighing the manuscripts, he worried they might not be enough, so he took out his small savings box and added a silver ingot.
With his bundle on his back, he remembered the promise he had made to Han Pei a few days ago: once the manuscripts were sold, he would take him to buy candy. So he called Han Pei along.
At the Han family gate, Han Min helped Han Pei onto a horse. “Sit tight.”
Leading the horse, he chatted with him casually: “Were you scared last night?”
Han Pei complained, “Big Brother scared me! I was sleeping peacefully when suddenly someone carried me out. I thought a bad person was kidnapping me!”
“You little ingrate, I saved your life.”
Han Min paused and said slowly, “Besides, you’re always eating and drinking. If someone went looking on the street to sell kids, they’d know you’re troublesome to raise and wouldn’t bother taking you.”
Han Pei snorted through his nose.
Han Min pulled on the reins, and the horse stopped.
“What’s that snort for? Big Brother buys you food and drink every day, and you still dare to snort?”
He stepped on the stirrup, swung onto the horse, and wrapped his arms around Han Pei from behind, pinching his cheeks.
“What are you snorting at? Tell Big Brother.”
Han Min loosened the reins, and the horse started moving forward.
Han Pei grabbed his coat, “Big Brother, slow down.”
“Why fear? I could ride horses and carry people at eleven or twelve. All my friends in Yong’an City—I’ve taken them all for rides.”
The horse galloped forward. Han Pei screamed, diving into Han Min’s arms, causing onlookers to laugh.
By the city gate, Han Min dismounted.
Riding inside the city was forbidden.
Han Pei, still shaken, tugged on his sleeve: “Big Brother, I want to get off too.”
Han Min set him on the ground, holding his hand with one hand and the horse’s reins with the other.
It was cold, and both wore slightly worn rabbit fur hats with fur collars.
As they entered the main road of the city, Han Pei looked up at him. “Big Brother.”
Han Min looked down. “What is it?”
Han Pei glanced at the malt sugar stall ahead.
“We have to first deliver the manuscripts to the Yuanwailang family. Brother…” [1]
Han Min didn’t want to mention money in front of a child, so he said, “If you haven’t finished eating when we get there, it would be rude. We’ll buy it on the way back.”
Han Pei reluctantly glanced at the malt sugar, then tugged Han Min forward and said to the elderly candy seller, “Grandpa, Big Brother will bring me back later. You must wait here for me and my brother, okay?”
Han Min smiled and bowed to the old man, who repeatedly promised, “Sure, sure.”
Passing the Baishi Bookstore, Han Pei saw Han Min stop in front and quickly tugged him back.
“Big Brother, don’t buy books!”
Baishi Bookstore printed books for the imperial exams and was the largest bookstore in Yong’an City.
Han Min often bought Han Pei early learning books here, so Han Pei was a little afraid of the place.
Han Min smiled, “Not buying books today. I just need to hand over some things to the clerks here.”
He had been writing scripts for Baishi Bookstore; in previous years, he mostly wrote continuations of stories. Only in the past few days had the bookstore commissioned him to write scripts independently.
Standing at the entrance, he called over a clerk.
The young clerk came forward. “Master Han?”
Han Min handed him the manuscript for The Emperor and the Censor: A Few Episodes: “Morning.”
“Ah, I’ll take it back for our shopkeeper to review. Any changes will follow the usual procedure: Master Han can return in a few days. Once corrected, we’ll settle payment.”
Han Min nodded, said goodbye, and left with Han Pei.
“Don’t tell Grandpa we came here.”
Han Pei half-understood. “Okay.”
The manuscript Han Min was copying now was for a wealthy gentleman in Tongzhou.
This gentleman had a large collection of books and was reluctant to handle rare volumes personally, so he hired someone to copy them.
He had seen Han Min’s beautiful handwriting when Han Min wrote letters for others, so he asked him to copy the books.
At the secluded side entrance, Han Min knocked.
After a moment, someone opened the door.
A young servant took the manuscripts and asked them to wait briefly in the side hall.
Han Min sat, sipped tea, and offered Han Pei a chestnut cake.
“Want some?”
Han Pei shook his head, focused only on malt sugar.
Han Min smiled and ate the cake himself.
After a long wait, the young servant returned.
“Apologies. Our young master was frightened last night, crying for candy. The master rushed him to see the candy seller outside, so it took some time.”
The servant counted the money and handed Han Min two pieces of broken silver and some copper coins.
“Please, Master Han. Our master said he knew the Han family might have a rough night yesterday, so he added a little extra.”
Han Min glanced at it, then asked, “May I ask…”
The servant replied, “Master said there are no more books to copy. Master Han copied for two years—everything is done.”
Han Min paused, then responded, “Good. If the gentleman adds more rare books in the future, he can come to me.”
“Very well, I’ll see Master Han out.”
Han Min left the extra money on the table and took Han Pei out.
The servant saw them to the side gate.
Han Min felt the source of income had just ended.
He pressed his lips together and temporarily set aside his worries. Holding Han Pei’s hand, he said, “Let’s go. Second Brother will buy you candy.”
Han Pei held his hand, walking happily, as if ready to fly.
Unfortunately, the candy seller had already left.
The neighboring tangerine seller said the gentleman’s servant had called him away.
It was unlucky, yet somehow fortunate.
Seeing Han Pei sulky, Han Min sat with him on the steps.
Han Min hugged his shoulders: “It’s all Second Brother’s fault. Should’ve bought candy for you first.”
Han Pei shook his head: “Big Brother didn’t know. It’s so hard for you to earn money.” He gestured with his small hand, “Such a thick thing is only worth this little money.”
He rested his head, lost in thought.
Han Min didn’t want him to understand these things so early. “Big Brother has money. You know that. How about I buy you rice candy?”
Han Pei stayed silent.
“How about going to Fuyuanju to buy pastries instead?”
Still no response.
Finally, Han Min said, “Well… maybe in a while, Grandpa will be back?”
This perked Han Pei up slightly. He asked softly: “Big Brother, why can’t we call Grandpa home? I told him to wait for me first.”
Han Min opened his mouth but didn’t know how to explain.
After thinking for a moment, he picked up Han Pei and whispered in his ear: “The candy seller grandpa is actually a divine doctor. You heard just now: the young master of the Yuanwailang family was frightened. His parents urgently called the doctor.”
Han Pei hugged his neck: “I’m also not feeling well.”
“What’s wrong?”
“My head is dizzy, eyes are blurry, and I get sleepy when I see the writing in books.”
Finally, Han Pei said, “But I was still more scared last night.”
Han Min laughed lightly, touching his forehead with his own.
Still not having waited for the candy seller to return, Han Min had to leave with Han Pei.
Last night, the earthquake in Liuzhou affected Tongzhou. Most buildings in Tongzhou were wooden and tiled. The mortise-and-tenon structures were stable, but many tiles on rooftops fell and were damaged.
Outside the city were brick and tile workers and private tile kilns.
When they arrived, the kiln owner said they were unlucky; someone had just bought most of the remaining gray tiles.
After searching, Han Min could only gather half a basket of gray tiles, spending most of the manuscript money, leaving just a small remainder.
He strapped the gray tiles to the horse, with Han Pei riding alongside, and led the horse to a brickworker.
The kiln owner shouted after him: “Young sir! Master Zhou isn’t home!”
Han Min turned.
“The rooftops damaged by the quake… he went out early and won’t return until evening. Don’t bother going.”
Han Min cupped his hands. “Thank you.”
He led the horse back home.
Along the way, he saw a pile of thatch in a field and used the remaining copper coins to buy some.
Walking, he touched his chin: “System, help me find references on repairing roofs.”
The system hesitated: “I’m afraid you’ll fall off the roof.”
“Our roof isn’t high. Grandpa and the ladies can’t sleep out in the wind…”
The system provided a general technical manual.
Flipping to the roofing pages, Han Min read through and thought it should be fine.
The Han house was a small courtyard with an inner residence.
Han Min unloaded the gray tiles and thatch from the horse, brought a wooden ladder, tied his clothes tight, rolled up his sleeves, and prepared to repair Grandpa’s roof.
Grandpa sat under the corridor, looking up as Han Min climbed the ladder. “Careful, careful.”
Han Min was a bit afraid of heights too but didn’t show it, only smiling at his grandfather.
Squinting, he climbed up quickly. Han Min sat on the roof and suddenly realized he forgot something—
Looking down, he saw half a basket of gray tiles still on the ground.
“Uh… Grandpa! Never mind, I’ll climb down again.”
Han Min didn’t dare look down, climbing down the ladder carefully.
Grandpa said, “Just do it roughly.”
Han Min carried the bamboo basket, held the ladder, and nodded. “I know, Grandpa… mainly because I’m not skilled at precise work.”
That day, Han Min spent a long time on the roof, braving the cold wind, sneezing while repairing.
The system provided diagrams for reference.
Han Min tilted his head: “What’s this? Did you give me the wrong page?”
The system sighed: “No, fix it as shown.”
Han Min tilted his head the other way, still doubtful.
Working patch by patch, Han Min spent the whole day on the house roof—
Not exactly repairing it, just covering it enough to be functional.
At dusk, Han Min stood in the courtyard, on tiptoe, looking up at the roof he patched.
Grandpa, leaning on his cane, squinted, observing for a while, then said thoughtfully: “Min’er, your room’s roof…”
Han Min had put off his own room till the end, quickly patching it as darkness approached.
He looked at the thatch covering the leaks. “Grandpa, it’s very stable. I laid four layers.”
“Oh? Is there a trick?”
Han Min crossed his arms: “Old Du said: ‘In August, autumn winds blow fiercely, rolling three layers of my roof’s thatch away.’ I used four layers—one more than Old Du. And it’s not even August now.”
As he spoke, the north wind howled, sending a few straws flying.
Author’s note:
Min Min has the typical scholar’s mindset. Urging the prince to be emperor the next day! Build Min Min a golden house! Hurry!
Footnotes:
[1] The Yuanwailang (???) was an ancient Chinese official position, often translated as Assistant Director or a low-level official within one of the six ministries (Liu Bu) that formed the core of the imperial administration.
