“It’s alright, I’ll pull, you two assist me.” Ethan Clark bent down and threw the lump of clay onto the center of the potter’s wheel, instructing Old Morgan and another craftsman to work together and start turning the wheel.

The wheel spun rapidly—pulling, stretching, tugging, smoothing, wiping… At first, Ethan Clark’s movements were a bit stiff, but soon he became more and more skilled and adept, leaving the craftsmen nearby dumbfounded. Good heavens, is this really the young master of the Lin family?

After more than an hour, two thick clay bodies were finished. Ethan Clark straightened up and stretched, rested for a while, then had Old Morgan and the other man spin the wheel again. He himself picked up a carving knife and carefully trimmed the surface of the clay bodies, refining the edges and corners.

Volume One: A Universe in a Pot

Chapter 3: The Painted Vase (2)

Trimming the clay body is a highly technical step in handmade porcelain making, especially with such primitive equipment as in ancient times. Not only does it require exceptional craftsmanship, but also extraordinary endurance and meticulousness. To make the body uniformly thick, smooth inside and out, full and rounded, and to achieve a natural, flowing beauty, a very high level of skill is needed.

Ethan Clark seemed to have returned to his previous life. Sometimes he bent over, holding the knife to shave lightly; sometimes he stood up, lost in thought, completely immersed in the artistic creation. Unknowingly, the sun had already slanted westward. The trimming and shaping took Ethan Clark a full two hours.

Bathed in the afterglow of the setting sun, looking at the two finished three-foot-tall vase clay bodies before him, Ethan Clark let out a long breath—finally done. Glancing at the sky, he stretched lazily. “Old Morgan, it’s getting late. Let’s move the clay bodies into the empty room to dry. Tomorrow morning, we’ll continue with the next step.”

Old Morgan gazed at Ethan Clark in a daze, his eyes filled with deep respect and confusion. He was a porcelain craftsman who had inherited his family’s techniques, and had been the kiln master at the Lin family’s kiln for nearly ten years. He considered his skills second to none in Yanshen Town, but compared to the young master before him, he was far behind. He simply couldn’t understand how this pampered young lord, who had never touched porcelain making before, could possess such exquisite skills.

Ethan Clark knew what Old Morgan was thinking. He couldn’t explain, nor could he try, so he just played dumb. He smiled faintly. “Old Morgan, I’ll be off now. Tomorrow morning I’ll come to the kiln again and work with you on the next steps.”

……

Early the next morning, after washing up with the help of Henry Clark, Ethan Clark was just about to head to the kiln when an unexpected visitor arrived.

“Old man, get out of the way and let Ethan Clark come see me! When is he going to pay back the fifty taels of silver he owes me?” A fat man in a light red long robe, holding a folding fan, with a greasy, powdered face, pushed aside Old Clark, who had opened the door, and barged in aggressively, followed by two servants in black robes.

“Ethan Clark, get over here! Today, either pay back the silver, or hand over your family’s kiln as collateral!” The fat man snapped his fan shut, standing there overbearingly, full of arrogance.

The two servants glared at Henry Clark, who was peeking out from the side room, and cursed, “You little mutt, what are you looking at? Watch out or our young master will skin you alive!”

“Kevin Foster Master Foster, my young master only owed you ten taels of silver. How did it become fifty taels in just a few days?” Old Clark bowed and smiled apologetically.

“Nonsense! Do you think your Master Foster’s money is so easy to borrow? That’s the interest! Got it? Ask your young master—he signed a promissory note for me!” Kevin Foster stuck out his belly and snorted coldly.

“Old steward, come here a moment.” Ethan Clark came out of the house, glanced at the arrogant Kevin Foster, and waved to Old Clark.

Old Clark hurried over in a panic, leaned close to Ethan Clark’s ear, and whispered, “Young master, this is Kevin Foster, the son of the wealthy Wu family in town. Last month you gambled with him and lost ten taels of silver…”

“Usury? Can our family come up with fifty taels of silver?” Ethan Clark understood that fifty taels was no small sum in the Ming Dynasty.

“Young master, these years our kiln’s business has been terrible, and we’ve been living off our savings. Plus… plus you like drinking and gambling, and the old master’s fortune is almost gone… These fifty taels really…” Old Clark stammered in a low voice.

Ethan Clark gasped. He hadn’t expected that the person he’d possessed was such a shameless, dissolute wastrel!

After a moment’s thought, he walked over and forced a smile. “You must be Master Foster? I… well, I’ve come down with amnesia and don’t remember you, haha, about the silver…”

Before Ethan Clark could finish, Kevin Foster burst out laughing. “Amnesia? Look at that! After just one night, the most notorious playboy and wastrel in Yanshen Town, Ethan Clark, has lost his memory. Don’t you remember those delicate girls at the Red Delight Brothel? You just spent the night with Little Peach Blossom yesterday! Hahaha, well, never mind the amnesia—as long as you pay back the silver, it’s all good.”

Ethan Clark fell silent, his face turning grim. What now? This wretched Lin fellow—he’d only just been reborn a few days, and already someone was here to collect debts.