Daming Yinghua

"Grandma, is this a picture of a flower book with a large cloth pattern?"

As Zheng Haizhu asked, he had already held the yellowed drawing in the bookcase in his hand, and carefully studied the geometric figures with incomparable color matching on it.

Grandma Tang glanced at her and nodded.

Chongming Island in this world, like Songjiang, is where the cotton spinning industry in the south of the Yangtze River developed.

People in Chongming call the undyed rough cloth "small cloth", because this kind of rough cloth is often collected by the imperial court and sold to fan merchants, so it is also called "selling cloth".

The "big cloth" mentioned by Zheng Haizhu is a colored cloth woven from dyed cotton thread, and people in Chongming also call it "Jianbu".

Granny Tang took the drawing, tenderness appeared in her eyes: "Miss Azhu, this is the flower book that my grandmother wrote down. When she came to Chongming with my grandfather, she brought the weaving techniques of Guangxi to the women here."

Zheng Haizhu praised: "Grandma, Mrs. Tang's designs are exquisite, even if compared with the Lu Jin I saw in Yanzhou Palace, it will not be inferior."

"Lu brocade? Hey, we are cotton cloth, how can it compare with brocade?"

"Grandmother, Lu brocade is not made of silk," Zheng Haizhu explained, "Lu brocade is also woven with various cotton threads, and the patterns are very similar to the grids painted by Mrs. Tang. Lu brocade is colorful, and the cotton is soft and warm. The nobles in the Prince Lu’s Mansion don’t only like to use silk, they are also rare in fine jacquard cotton.”

"Oh, that's it," Tang Granny said with a smile, "this name is not a lie, it is as bright as clouds, and the satin that is one tael of silver and one foot on the prince's body can be called brocade. Can't be called Jin?"

At this time, Zheng Haizhu had already left the stone table, and was squatting beside the open bookcase basking in the sun, like a gold digger, carefully arranging the stack of blueprints that were obviously flower patterns.

Not to mention the cloth workshop in Chongming County, even a silk cloth shop of the size of the Han family in Songjiang Prefecture, she has never seen such a pattern.

The color is indeed like Lu brocade. The plant pattern, human figure pattern, bird and animal pattern in the rhombic grid square inch clearly have an alternative fantasy and romance, which is obviously different from the regular and reserved style produced by Confucian ethics. carnival.

That's right, Zheng Haizhu remembered that the deceased Tang Yicen Tang Gong was originally from Guilin, Guangxi. No matter whether Mrs. Tang was a Han nationality or a minority, her description of textile patterns must bring the aesthetic glory of the southwest frontier.

There is no difference between high and low cultural treasures of different regions and nationalities.Only narrow-minded Han chauvinists, only frogs with shallow eye sockets, can be arrogant and conceited, and they can't see their compatriots looking outward to learn, just like they can't see their compatriots doing business in the sea.

Zheng Haizhu couldn't help being excited.

She wants to invite Han Ximeng to look at these patterns.

Regardless of weaving or embroidery, Master Han Er and Han Ximeng are not in the habit of standing still, they will like these patterns.

Tang Po, who was on the side, was also moved when she saw Zheng Haizhu's face with "I dug the treasure" written all over her face.

"Miss Azhu, my mother is a native of Chongming, but I haven't seen my mother use my grandmother's flower book. Maybe she doesn't like it, or maybe it's too difficult. When it comes to me, cough, I can't continue it. I'm not good at girls. Hong, when I get on the loom, when I pick up the shuttle, I get headaches and dizziness..."

Zheng Haizhu picked up the pile of precious materials, sat back at the stone table, and said in a tone that no longer felt alienated: "Everyone has different temperaments and preferences. Who stipulates that women must be able to weave? Mother-in-law read the contract paper , No matter how many words you can be happy with, it is also a skill that I can't learn."

Tang Po stared at the colorful patterns that became more and more beautiful in the bright sunshine, and she couldn't help feeling: "My grandmother is really amazing. I haven't counted the complicated flowers, birds, fish and insects. I'm afraid there are hundreds of them. some."

Zheng Haizhu's eyes lit up.

Hanging heald is a device that strings warp threads on the textile machine.

When weaving patterned cloth, the warp threads of various colors are lifted up in a certain order, the weft threads in the shuttle pass through the gaps between the warp threads, and the warp and weft threads are compacted from time to time, and complex patterns appear on the finished cloth.

Therefore, the hanging heddle is actually like a set of program algorithms, corresponding to different patterns.If you can see the master's ready-made hanging heddle, you will save the step of programming.

Zheng Haizhu then said to Mrs. Tang: "Madam Tang's hanging rope, is it still passed down?"

Tang Po patted her leg: "Yes! In my ancestral house in the county town, those hanging harnesses on the loom are still there, but they are just placed in the woodshed to accumulate dust. My old lady, I am sorry for my ancestors."

Zheng Haizhu laughed and said, "Grandma, take me to have a look. I will kowtow to Mrs. Tang's memorial tablet and be her apprentice."

"Yes, yes!" Tang Po agreed heartily.

At this moment, the old and young women did not know that what Mrs. Tang left to the world back then was definitely not as simple as a set of hanging ropes.

……

Ten days later, at Dangsha Port Wharf in the southeast of Chongming Island, a ferry boat coming from Wusongkou slowly landed.

Dong Erya, a miserable person who used to nurse her children to stretch the muscles in the canal of Zhenjiang, is now Han Ximeng's most important housemaid.

Dong Erya held her four-year-old daughter in her left hand, and hugged the young master Gu Zuoyou in her right hand, striding across the trestle bridge, behind them were Han Ximeng and Fan Polu, and two servants carrying luggage.

Zheng Haizhu, who had been waiting at the pier, went up to meet Gu Zuoyou, and smiled at Han Ximeng: "In spring, the baby really grows fast, and it's only been a month since I held it, and it's a lot heavier."

At the moment of joking, when she and Han Ximeng looked at each other, she sensitively noticed that the eyelids of this former employer and current best friend were a little swollen.

Han Ximeng's eyes flickered slightly, and soon there was a sense of humor, pointing to Fan Polu beside him, and said to Zheng Haizhu: "You should save some energy, you are going to be an aunt, go back and hug your nephew .”

Fan Polu immediately blushed, frowned and pursed his lips, embarrassment mixed with a bit of sweetness.

In half a year, around the Double Ninth Festival, she will marry Shou Kuan.

Zheng Haizhu also showed off her face, and said to Fan Polu: "When I come back to the island, I have a very new and beautiful jacquard pattern to show you. You can choose a few, and my aunt will weave them into quilts. It will be used in September. Cotton is used to make cores and sent to your new house in Zhenjiang."

All the girls were talking and laughing, Hua Er, a girl from Liao people beside the mule cart, looked at them intently.

Hua Er realizes that women are not attractive because they look like the Bodhisattvas in the temple.

They are good-looking because of the light in their eyes, and their voices are not like mosquitoes.

Hua Er couldn't help but think of those Han women outside the pass. Although they looked different, their expressions were all the same.After being enslaved by the Jurchens for many years, they lost even deep and shallow fear and timidity, only lifeless numbness remained, like the pebbles on the river beach in front of them that were always trampled under their feet.

With a lot of emotion in mind, a girl from the Liao people jumped onto the frame and sent a car full of glorious women to the house of Grandma Tang in Chongming County.

The newly restored three looms are quietly placed in the small courtyard.

Dense hanging healds are hung on each loom, and the colorful warp threads threaded on the healds, like countless rainbow lights, fall between the weft threads laid out below.

Rao Han Ximeng, an embroidery master who is accustomed to using silk threads of nearly a hundred colors in one piece of embroidery, was also surprised from ear to ear when he saw the scene before him.

After all, this is not silk thread, but cotton thread.

Even though the Han family's weaving workshop is not small, it still follows the usual elegant and calm pattern aesthetics in the Susong area. Zheng Haizhu used coral-colored velvet and blue cotton to blend it, which is already a different kind of color.

Unexpectedly, today in this corner of Chongming Island in Yingzhou, East China Sea, I can see such a visually stunning hanging weaving flower book.

Fan Polu, like Han Ximeng, had his eyeballs glued to those hanging harnesses.The girl who was going to Zhenjiang to be in charge of the branch of Han Ximeng's clothing workshop immediately planned in her mind that the narrow cloth strips formed by the interweaving of warp and weft could be sewn on the skirt of a horse face. When the owner of the skirt walked around, it was like walking on a spring day. in the flowers.

Only Dong Erya, who was in charge of taking care of the baby, didn't come over to see it immediately.

The naughty young master Gu Zuoyou took her by the hand and came to a corner of the courtyard, eager to study the novel big toy.

Dong Erya's daughter was already standing in front of another wooden machine there, playing with the knots on it.

"What is this?" Gu Zuoyou asked childishly.

Dong Erya's daughter said: "It's a solid shuttle."

Dong Erya smiled and said: "Silly girl, how can the shuttle be solid, and how can the solid shuttle be filled with cotton thread for weaving."

Hearing their conversation, Han Ximeng and Fan Polu also came over.

Han Ximeng looked at this strange machine, with bits and pieces of cotton hanging on it, frowned, looked at Zheng Haizhu, and asked, "Is this one that spins cotton thread?"

As soon as she finished speaking, Granny Tang came in from the door.

"But Mrs. Gu has come to visit? Old lady, I will go to the town to buy Chongming mincemeat cake for you."

Han Ximeng already knew about Grandma Tang's legend from Zheng Haizhu's letter to Songjiang. When he saw this senior today, he was indeed energetic and imposing, so he hurriedly bowed down as a junior.

Granny Tang's eyes were full of kindness, and she called Dong Erya to distribute Chongming cakes to the children, and asked Zheng Haizhu with a smile: "The two female red experts from Songjiang, have you guessed what this machine is for?"

Fan Polu also slapped his forehead at this moment, and suddenly realized: "The row of lumps is not a shuttle, but a spindle. This is not a loom, but a spinning machine. Mother, could it be that this machine can spin several lumps of cotton at a time?"

Zheng Haizhu nodded, affirming the answer of the prospective niece and daughter-in-law.

Zheng Haizhu was no longer as excited as when he found this spinning machine in Grandma Tang's house, but he was still pleased with Han Ximeng and Fan Polu's ability to recognize it.

The ancient Chinese who were proficient in textile machinery really saw the clues of the vertically arranged spindles at a glance.

Although, in the history of another time and space, the machine in front of us first appeared in England more than 100 years later, and was called the "Spinning Jenny".