wavenovel Chapter 57 Inheritance
Chapter 57 Inheritance
Before dawn, the seawater in the stone trough was half-tide, lapping against the hull of the ship with muffled sounds that carried from the shed all the way to the workshop entrance.
Old Fang squatted at the workshop entrance striking a match, the wind blowing in from the seawall.
The first one didn't light, but the second one did. I quickly cupped my hand around the flame and lit it.
The crack on his finger, which had been soaked in diesel fuel for most of his life, stopped bleeding this morning and formed a thin scab.
The three wooden signs had already been wiped clean, and the old cotton yarn used for wiping them was still draped over the railing, dripping water.
He took a deep drag on his cigarette, casually tossed the matchstick into the stone trough, and stood up to dust off his trousers.
The light was on in the kitchen, and Lin Xiu'e was already kneading dough.
Sleeves rolled up to elbows, a few specks of dry flour clinging to forearms. Palms pushed out, knuckles pulled back, dough rolled back and forth on the board until smooth. Divided into small, evenly sized pieces, they were arranged on a bamboo mat.
The water in the pot was bubbling and steaming, and the steam covered the kitchen window with a layer of white mist.
She wiped the glass and peeked out through the crack, just in time to see Qiu Changhai slowly walking over from the asbestos tile shed.
Qiu Changhai walked slowly, step by step, his back slightly hunched, twirling the two walnuts that had been polished until they were shiny and smooth.
He walked to the stone trough, but instead of rushing to get the chisel, he sat down on the stone stool.
He placed the walnuts on his lap and took something out of his tool bag.
It was a neatly folded red-headed document, with the corners wrapped in plastic. The plastic was something Ah Guang had found in the old parts warehouse; it was the same document that had originally been used to hold a provincial competition award certificate.
He opened the plastic cover, pulled out the document, spread it on his lap, and looked down at it for a long time.
The document was delivered by Wang Cunzhi yesterday afternoon.
The province officially approved the recognition of the inheritor, and his name was written below the line of bold text: Qiu Changhai, Binhai County Moon Island Ship Service Station, with forty years of sewing experience and a senior technician level.
When he took the documents yesterday, he didn't say anything. He just held them in his hand for a long time, then folded them and put them in his tool bag.
This morning he took it out again to look at it, as if to confirm whether the line of text was still there.
Jiang Haiping walked out of the workshop carrying a jar of freshly poured boiling water. He squatted down at the workshop entrance and placed the jar at his feet.
He watched Qiu Changhai's retreating figure but did not walk over.
He was present when the document was delivered yesterday. Wang Cunzhi handed the document to Qiu Changhai and said, "The province has approved it. Senior Technician."
Qiu Changhai took the document, but didn't open it. He just held it in his hand, sat on the stone stool for a while, then folded the document and put it in his pocket. He then picked up the chisel and continued to carve the groove.
The chisel struck the hemp fibers, again and again.
Lin Xiu'e placed the steamer on the pot, put the lid on, wiped her hands with her apron, walked out of the kitchen, and stood next to Jiang Haiping.
She glanced at the stone trough, then looked away, turned back into the kitchen, scooped the red beans that had been soaked the day before out of the basin, and began to wrap red bean buns.
Qiu Changhai was not talkative, but she knew he had bad teeth and the red bean paste was soft.
Ah-Guang poked his head out of the old parts warehouse, holding a register in his hand.
When he arrived in the morning, he saw that Hong Xiaobing and Ashun had already pushed Old Sun's old sampan onto the raft. The barnacles on the bottom of the boat had been cleaned, revealing the dark brown old planks underneath.
He opened the register and wrote under today's date: "Old Sun's sampan, two pieces of rotten wood for the hull, waiting for Master Qiu to trim the hull."
After finishing writing, he closed the register, went to the shed, took out the chisels that Qiu Changhai often used, wiped them with cotton yarn, and placed them in a convenient spot next to the stone trough.
Hong Xiaobing squatted down by the stone trough and inspected Old Sun's sampan again.
Two planks at the bottom of the boat are rotten, but the grooves are still there. The grooves need to be cleaned again before the new planks are installed.
He glanced back in Qiu Changhai's direction, then returned to continue inspecting the ship's planks.
Hong Ashun was squatting next to him, holding a vernier caliper and recording the dimensions of the ship's bottom plate in the register.
On the other side of the dock, Old Sun walked slowly along the seawall, his hands behind his back.
He walked to the entrance of the old parts warehouse and sat down on the stone stool that Hong Xiaobing had left for him, which was covered with an old ship plank.
Hong Xiaobing poked his head out of the shed, a towel draped around his neck.
Still clutching the enamel basin she had just washed her face in, she quickly put the basin back and brought out a mug of hot tea.
Old Sun took the teacup, warmed his hands with it, leaned forward, and looked over the door frame of the old parts warehouse, his eyes landing on the boat raft.
He knew that Qiu Changhai was going to trim the trough of this sampan today. This boat had been with him for decades, and Qiu Changhai remembered which plank was replaced in which year.
Jiang Haiping finished the last sip of water in the jar, placed the jar on the windowsill at the workshop entrance, and walked to the entrance of the old parts warehouse.
Ah-Guang is flipping through the register and writing a repair record under today's date.
Jiang Haiping glanced at it, then called Hong Xiaobing over and asked him and Ashun to go to the old parts warehouse today to organize the display area of the refurbished water pumps and write the signs.
Hong Xiaobing agreed, handed the registration book to A Guang, glanced back at the sampan by the stone trough, and then led Ashun toward the old parts warehouse.
Qiu Changhai refolded the successor's document, put it in a plastic bag, placed it in the innermost layer of his tool bag, and zipped it up.
He picked up the walnuts from the stone block and put them in his pocket.
The walnut gently bumped against my pocket.
Then he stood up, walked to the edge of the boat, squatted down, and ran his fingers along the crack.
The crack ran from the bow to near the stern, curving almost a foot along the keel, with two bends close to the old ribs.
After he finished touching it, he took out a chisel from his tool bag.
The chisel blade gleamed with a dull, faint light in the morning glow.
Old Sun sat on the stone stool, his back straight.
After delivering the tea, Hong Xiaobing didn't leave. He squatted down next to Old Sun, his hands resting on his knees.
Ah Guang placed the registration book on the stone block next to him and squatted down by the boat raft.
Ding Haisheng pushed open the door of the new workshop, still holding welding rods in his hand, and leaned against the workshop door frame.
Lin Xiu'e stood at the door of the kitchen, not coming over, but just watching.
Jiang Haiping squatted at the workshop entrance and picked up the jar of boiling water again.
The water in the jar had stopped steaming; he held it in his hands but didn't drink it.
Qiu Changhai wedged the chisel blade at the beginning of the crack.
His palms were pressed against the chisel handle, his thumbs gripping the top of the chisel, and his index fingers pressing on the back of the chisel.
The hammer was raised and brought down.
With a thud, the rotten wood split open, and a piece of dark brown rotten wood peeled off along the grain and landed on the gravel below the boat raft.
He picked up the chisel, repositioned it on the crack, and struck it again.
The rotten wood fell piece by piece, and the groove extended inch by inch. No one spoke.
The waves lapped against the stone trough. The chisel struck the hemp fibers again and again.
Old Sun held the jar of tea in his hand, which had gone from scalding hot to lukewarm, but he hadn't drunk a single drop.
When the sun was as high as the mast, Qiu Changhai finished chipping away the last piece of rotten wood.
He placed the chisel on his knees, wiped the blade with cotton yarn, slowly straightened up while supporting his back, and took a step back to look at his work.
The groove is of uniform depth from beginning to end, with smooth transitions at bends, and the board is completely undamaged.
He put the chisel into his tool bag and took out the two walnuts from his pocket.
The walnut touched my palm lightly.
Old Sun stood up, walked to the side of the sampan, squatted down, and touched the groove that Qiu Changhai had just carved with his finger.
After fiddling around for a while, he lit the unlit cigarette in his mouth and took a deep drag.
"Old Qiu, your craftsmanship has remained so consistent for decades."
Qiu Changhai put the chisel back into his tool bag. "Before the new board is installed, measure it with calipers, and trace the curve at the corners with a stone pencil before chiseling. Xiu'e will come to suture the joints this afternoon, so I can rest my back."
Lin Xiu'e responded at the door of the kitchen, then turned around and went inside to continue steaming her red bean buns.
Jiang Haiping stood up, poured the cooled water from the jar onto the base of the loquat tree, and turned to walk into the workshop.
He took the register out of the drawer and turned to a new page.
For every technician at the service station, there is an apprentice learning their skills.
One day, the apprentice will become the master.
Back then, the walnuts on the stone pier would be passed on to the next person.
He put the register back in the drawer and began to organize the maintenance schedule for the official vessels this morning.
Qiu Changhai continued to sit on the stone stool, twirling the two walnuts in his hand.
The walnuts were polished until they were shiny and glossy, gleaming slightly in the morning light.
The waves lapped gently against the stone trough, one after another, without haste or slowness.
In the courtyard of the service station, a new day has just begun.