Evicted for Debt

The room was in shambles, with nowhere to hide.

A knock came at the door, followed by an impatient voice: "Miss?"

The beagle on the floor was still squirming, letting out low growls. After soothing it, Zhou Yao took a deep breath and flung the door open.

She looked up—the male voice she'd heard earlier belonged to none other than Chen Yuwen, apprentice of the Chen family of Nine Kilns.

The very man she'd been dying to learn from.

Zhou Yao racked her brain, but couldn't figure out why he'd suddenly come looking for her.

"Found her—your job's done." He waved a hand and tossed a string of copper coins to the innkeeper.

Chen Yuwen's attitude was as aloof as ever, but Zhou Yao couldn't shake a creeping unease.

"You live this far out and still trek to Nine Kilns every day?" His tone wasn't friendly; he leaned lazily against the doorframe, arms crossed, eyes lowered.

Zhou Yao's instincts screamed that something was off.

She'd never told Chen Yuwen about her beagle—so how did he know?

Before she could ask, Chen Yuwen spoke again: "Someone asked me to find you. This afternoon, did you rescue a woman near that alleyway? That place is deserted year-round—run-down and desolate."

Zhou Yao opened her mouth to respond, but Chen Yuwen cut her off, his gaze dropping as he said a single word: "Thank you."

She snapped back to her senses and replied, "Don't thank me. If it had been anyone else, I'd have stepped in just the same."

"I apologize for how I treated you before," he said. "I never intended to return to the craft. My younger sister came to Chang'an looking for me, and I should have gone back. Along the way, you must have heard plenty of rumors—Master Chen lost much to this craft back then, and in the end, he died a miserable death..."

As he turned to leave, Chen Yuwen gave her a long, searching look.

After hesitating for a long moment, he finally asked, "These days, people avoid this craft like the plague. Why would you go out of your way to learn it?"

"For money."

Zhou Yao pondered for a moment before uttering those two words.

Chen Yuwen laughed, amused by how serious she looked.

"Alright, let's say it's for money. Come at nine tomorrow morning."

After he left, Zhou Yao let out a sigh.

You never know how expensive rice and oil are until you're the one paying for them. That single set of fine robes on Chen Yuwen's back cost more than she spent on food in half a year.

Life was hard, and raising a beagle was harder.

It howled every single night—it was a small mercy she hadn't been kicked out by the innkeeper yet.

She turned to look at the beagle still rolling around on the floor, wrestling with the mess, and sighed again.

Ever since she found it, her days had only gotten tougher.

She regretted picking up that beagle every single day.

She'd thought about throwing it out.

But she couldn't bear to leave such a small puppy to fend for itself on the streets of a foreign land.

She'd also thought about jumping into a well with the dog in her arms.

But every time she saw the beagle knock over her emergency rations and scatter them across the floor, she found a strange sense of peace.

Zhou Yao figured the little beagle couldn't survive without her.

Just like India couldn't survive without Buddhism.

So.

She regretted it again.

Being soft on the beagle was nothing but cruelty to herself.

Whenever someone complimented the beagle on how cute it was, she'd kindly offer to find the little howler a good owner—and ask the person, "Do you want it?"

—

————

The next morning, the market stalls opened with their usual hawking cries.

When Zhou Yao came downstairs, she noticed the innkeeper waiting by the door.

She racked her brain, trying to figure out how to convince him to let her stay a few more days.

To her surprise, the innkeeper called her over first: "Miss, I can see you're struggling on your own in this city. That young master from yesterday was quite generous, and if you—"

"Thank you for your kindness, innkeeper, but business is business. I'll pay back what I owe you as soon as I can." Zhou Yao awkwardly cut off whatever he was about to say, terrified that if she delayed even a second longer, the man would try to play matchmaker between her and Chen Yuwen.

With that, she darted off, disappearing before he could even get a word in edgewise.

When Zhou Yao reached Nine Kilns, she found the courtyard—which had been a complete mess before—now swept spotlessly clean. She rubbed her eyes, then spotted Chen Yuwen in the corner of the yard.

He was a changed man from the one she'd seen before. His hair was neatly tied back, secured in a way that wouldn't come loose, and his wide sleeves were fastened with arm bands. He barely resembled the lazy figure she'd met the previous day.

The man seemed to sense her arrival. Without lifting his head, he said in a practiced tone, "Look around for a bit. I'll teach you the first step in a moment."

Zhou Yao acknowledged him and headed toward the back courtyard.

The backyard housed countless pieces of porcelain—everything from exquisite masterpieces to ordinary wares could be found there. Zhou Yao couldn't help but wonder: if the Chen family hadn't met with disaster back then, would the collection here be twice as large?

She'd never involved herself in court affairs, and having spent years holed up in a small courtyard barely able to feed herself, she'd never had the chance to use fine porcelain or compare the works of the two kilns.

It wasn't until she spotted, among a pile of discarded scrap in the distance, several shattered ceramic cups and bowls lying on the ground.

They weren't particularly unusual in appearance, but the patterns on them were exclusively reserved for the palace.

Seeing them here stirred a complicated feeling in her chest.

"What are you looking at?"

He approached from behind, warning her, "Those belong to the royal family. Even if they're lying in a heap, don't touch them. One careless move and you could lose your head."

"I'll be teaching you the craft of the Nine Kilns, so that makes me your master. Follow me."

Chen Yuwen's almond-shaped eyes held a distant, indifferent gaze. Combined with his usual lazy disposition, he gave off the eerie impression that he might live today but would just as soon put an end to himself tomorrow.

He led her down a small path in the back courtyard, and Zhou Yao followed closely behind. Noticing this, Chen Yuwen remarked, "The Nine Kilns are called what they are not just because there are nine kilns on the premises, but because the craft has sustained nine generations of our family."

"Porcelain is a gift from heaven and earth. Even when it's shaped by human hands, you still have to rely on whether the gods choose to smile upon you."

Zhou Yao turned to look at Chen Yuwen and saw the gravity in his expression. They walked a little farther until a building came into view—unlike the others, this one didn't seem worn down from years of neglect.

It was only when they stepped inside that Zhou Yao realized this was the ancestral hall of the Nine Kilns. Rows upon rows of memorial tablets were arranged on the altar.

She'd always prided herself on having seen all kinds of sights, but she'd never seen anything like this.

Chen Yuwen took three sticks of incense from a small table nearby, lit them, and inserted them into the burner. After bowing, he knelt on the ground, murmuring words under his breath. Zhou Yao, taking the hint, knelt behind him and stole glances around.

Listening closely, she heard him say: "Your disciple Chen Yuwen pays respects to Master. Today I come uninvited to present your disciple's student before you..."

Before he could finish, a beam of light from outside the hall fell precisely on Zhou Yao.

She understood what it meant.

"Thank you, Master." Chen Yuwen rose, lit three more sticks of incense, and handed them to Zhou Yao.

She understood.

"Do you know the gist of what happened?" He asked abruptly, with no context.

But she knew he was referring to the death of the Chen family patriarch.

She shook her head, and Chen Yuwen continued: "Back then, the palace held a banquet to entertain distinguished guests. Master was summoned by a eunuch to present his newest porcelain before the emperor. But a maidservant working for the favored consort had sticky fingers, and she pinned the blame on Master. When that tyrant learned of it, he flew into a rage and, without hearing the full story, ordered the entire Chen household exterminated."

A long silence followed.

"I was the only one who survived—he'd taken me in but never registered me in the family records, so I slipped through the cracks."

He spoke with a heavy heart, and Zhou Yao knew better than to interrupt or interject.

Suddenly, she understood why he'd been so cold to her the first time they met—and why he'd asked about her surname.

An unresolved grudge stood between them. Even though she harbored many grievances against her own father, he was still her blood. Zhou Yao didn't dare reveal her true identity to Chen Yuwen at this moment.

She wrestled with herself for a long while, until all her thoughts condensed into a single sentence.

"I'm so sorry... I—"

"I know. But you're not him." Chen Yuwen walked toward the woods and gestured for her to follow.

Zhou Yao stood rooted to the spot.

He knew... and he was still willing to teach her?

"The Nine Kilns may be small, but what has never changed throughout the ages is its exquisite craftsmanship. It's no coincidence that it became the official kiln for successive dynasties."

"Folk wisdom says porcelain must be made with kaolin clay, but that's not exactly true. Still, there's truth to the saying that a place's water and soil nurture its people. People from different regions differ in what they eat, use, see, and even their culture—all shaped by the local land and water. The clay used for porcelain is no different."

As time passed, Chen Yuwen led Zhou Yao deeper into the woods, where they gathered a substantial amount of porcelain clay. Once they had enough, they headed back.

"Crafting a truly excellent piece of porcelain is extremely difficult. It tests not only the maker's skill but also their luck. Making a batch of porcelain can take anywhere from months to years, depending on the technique. Of the pieces used in the palace, only one in ten thousand succeeds—you can't force it."

"Let's start with the basics: measuring the ratios, washing, crushing, and settling." Chen Yuwen waved his hand, handing the collected clay to Zhou Yao while he went off to find the stones they'd need next.

Zhou Yao gathered the rocks, placed them in a sifting basket, and washed them at the stream to filter out impurities. With Chen Yuwen's guidance, she picked out the quality stones, dried them, and fired them in high-temperature charcoal.

Then she used a mortar and pestle to crush the fired rocks into powder.

She ground and sifted them again, added water, and let the mixture settle.

By the time she finished all these steps, the sun had long since set.

After a full day of work, Zhou Yao was sore all over.

"This is nothing. Are you still in for tomorrow, Ninth Princess?"

Zhou Yao caught the mockery in Chen Yuwen's tone and shot back with a strained smile: "Master, you've been lying around all day and must be exhausted. Go get some rest in your room. I'll take my leave."

After a hard day's labor, Master Zhou planned to reward herself back at the inn.

But when she returned, she found her luggage and her beagle neatly packed up and set on the front counter.

"What's this...?" Zhou Yao stared blankly at the beagle, seemingly passed out on the floor, and at her several bundles of various sizes.

"Oh, look who it is. Isn't this the one who owes money and won't pay?"

The kindly innkeeper behind the counter had been replaced by a woman in expensive clothes with a face full of hard, fleshy features.

She sneered, "This inn is under my management from now on. I checked the books first thing this morning, and guess who owes the most? If I hadn't been kind, I would've thrown your things out long ago. And that dog of yours—it never stops barking day and night! How am I supposed to run a business with that racket?!"

She gave Zhou Yao a once-over, saw nothing valuable on her, and waved her hand dismissively.

"Can't afford to stay here? Then get the hell out—don't squat and refuse to shit."