Splitting the bamboo strips is not enough, one must also use a scraper to lightly scrape the rough bamboo strips, then compare it with the ones made earlier to check if the thickness is even. Only then can the bamboo mats be beautifully and durably woven.
In the courtyard, such division of labor among the elderly is not limited to just one group, but rather in pairs or small clusters, each elder busily working on bamboo mats, straw mats, or flax mats, focusing intensely on their craft without noticing soone had walked in through the door.
"Hey, Xiao Xian, what are you doing here?" Upon hearing a voice shout out, Xiao Xian looked up toward the balcony where Mao Dazhu was holding a clothes rack, smacking the cotton that had been sunning all day, apparently planning to take in the bedding.
"Uncle Mao, I ca to deliver money," Xiao Xian waved the supermarket shopping bag in her hand.
No sooner had she spoken when a crowd hustled over, the busy elderly gathering around, bombarding her with questions: "Are you the new staff from the mat shop? Have the mats sold? How much money? Did the bamboo mats I wove sell the best?"
"Get aside, with your presbyopia, how could the mats you weave be suitable for sleeping? Aren’t you ashad," the elderly didn’t let each other off lightly, until Mao Dazhu ca clattering down from upstairs, soothing the old ones.
It then dawned on Xiao Xian that the source of the Five Gentlen’s mats was from this group of elders; wasn’t Mao Dazhu exploiting them a bit too much?
"Put away those thoughts in your head, do I, your master, resemble Boss Zhou?" Xiao Xian’s expression gave away her thoughts, Mao Dazhu was barely stopping himself from hitting her with the clothes rack.
Using the nursing ho as a mat processing factory was an idea conceived over a decade ago after Mao Dazhu suffered a mild stroke, paralyzing his left leg. Not wanting to be a burden on his son and daughter-in-law, he stubbornly asked soone to find him the Fang Street Elderly Ho. He chose it for its distance from the urban area, its quiet environnt, and its local Beijing dical staff, which is why he moved in.
"Not long after moving in, to rehabilitate my left leg, I started walking around the courtyard. During one of my walks, I t an old man who wove bamboo mats. He boasted that his ancestors made the imperial mats for Empress Dowager Cixi. You know I co from a bamboo-growing background and was already interested in bamboo products, so I started learning to weave from him. I don’t know if weaving is beneficial to physical and ntal health, but my mind and legs felt more spirited as I did it. Seeing that it worked for , many elderly in the ho started learning too, and eventually, it turned into what you see today," Mao Dazhu said with an air of a leading fashion guru.
"Was that Purple Vine Mat woven by the old man who taught you to weave?" Xiao Xian just wanted to tell that group of enthusiastic elderly, especially those weaving straw and bamboo mats, that nowadays these are not in vogue. People find straw mats aesthetically unpleasing on beds, while bamboo mats are often critiqued for pulling at hair during sleep. Of the 4,000 plus in sales, half was contributed by Purple Vine Mats, then followed by flax mats, and finally bamboo and straw mats.
"That old man was twenty years older than ; if he were still alive, he’d be news by now, he died ten years ago." Mao Dazhu quickly brushed off the subject, unclear whether he truly didn’t want to ntion it or was averse to evoking sentintal mories of the deceased, "The old man who weaves Purple Vine Mats is upstairs, that fellow was a state official, very fussy, saying the courtyard is too sunny and even complained about slling bird droppings, staying alone upstairs."
Most in the Lai Fang Street Nursing Ho were retirees; except for a few truly solitary ones, most had families and children. They chose the nursing ho for companionship, so that when their ti ca, at least soone would know.
Nowadays, there are plenty of well-equipped nursing hos in the city, hence many retired officials with better financial ans have transferred there, leaving only the few ntioned by Mao Dazhu in the Fang Street Ho.
Xiao Xian had a very good impression of the Purple Vine Mat, so she eagerly followed Mao Dazhu to visit that privileged elder weaver.
The nursing ho consisted of two buildings: one was a dining and activity hall, and the other was the dormitory for the elderly. Beyond age seventy or eighty, the elderly prefer living on the first or second floors. Healthy elderly shared rooms in pairs, each with a separate bed, convenient for calling for dical staff if sothing arose at night.
Yet, the elder who weaved Purple Vines resided on the quietest northern side of the fourth floor, alone in his room, a condition he requested when he moved into Fang Street Nursing Ho due to not wanting to hear the sound of others tossing and turning in bed.
"Old Yu, I’ve brought soone to see your mat," interactions among the elderly in the nursing ho were straightforward, often just addressing each other by their last nas due to their declining mory.
There was no response from the room, causing an awkward Mao Dazhu to call out again, still no answer.
After a mont, Mao Dazhu worried sothing might have happened inside and hurriedly turned the doorknob and entered.
Xiao Xian followed him in and as she faced the door, she saw the na "Yu Shan Yang", likely the na of the old resident of the room.
It sounded vaguely familiar, and as Xiao Xian was about to take another look, the door was already closed. In the room, barely lit by the western sun, a completely woven Purple Vine Mat covered the entire floor, and sitting at the top right corner was a person.
**Thanks to "Happy Without Guilt 288" for the fan tickets** (To be continued. If you like this work, you are welco to vote for recomndation tickets and monthly tickets on Qidian（qidian）. Your support is my greatest motivation.)
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