I Wrote the Gaokao Essay Again

Essay prompt: “There was a merchant with a diamond worth a fortune, but the diamond had a flaw, and splitting it along that flaw would yield two flawless gems. Many experienced craftsmen didn’t dare try. A young craftsman stepped forward, split the diamond in two, and cut out the two gems perfectly. The young craftsman’s master said: ‘Sometimes you need not only enough experience, but also the courage to cast aside your worries.’ Write an essay on this material, choose your own angle, make up your own title."

Title: Cut

The lamplight was dim, cups were being raised and drained, and seated there were an old sculptor and his old friend.

“Never thought you’d do it.” The sculptor’s friend took a sip. “You actually let that little apprentice of yours go cut that gem. You know that if he gets it wrong, it’s over.”

“Heh.” The sculptor smiled, looking cheerful. “Actually, I was prepared all along. You’re still green, my friend…”

“Oh? So all of this was within your expectations?”

“Naturally.”

“So you knew your little apprentice could handle it?”

“Naturally.”

“He’s only been in the trade two years—his skill isn’t even as good as…”

The sculptor made a gesture and cut his friend off.

“Do you know the saying ‘a newborn calf fears no tiger’?”

“Of course I know it, but that’s not about fear or no fear. Cutting diamond is something only an experienced old hand can handle. He’s a snot-nosed kid, obviously lacking experience.”

“Let me put it this way… in our trade, the manual skill? Half a year and you can learn it completely.”

“Learn it in half a year?” The friend was a little surprised.

“If they’re naturally sharp, not even half a year.”

“Then why does everyone say this trade takes eight or ten years?”

“You said it yourself—experience. The craft can be grasped in half a year, but how to apply what you’ve learned freely, how to face all sorts of possible problems, how to use the skills you have to create new ones—that’s what experience means.” The sculptor smiled.

“Then… I don’t get it at all.” The friend scratched his head. “So why did you still let that snot-nosed kid take the job?”

“Let me put it this way. Suppose you’re an old hand in our trade, and someone asks you to cut that stone. You cut—” the sculptor made a knife gesture, “—or not?”

“I… I definitely wouldn’t cut. I hear there’s only a fifty-fifty chance with that thing. If it goes well, fine, but if it goes wrong… the owner could demand I pay for it!”

“But the owner said that if it’s not a matter of skill, the cutter doesn’t bear responsibility,” the sculptor said with a smile.

“Even… even then I wouldn’t cut. He didn’t put it in writing…”

“He wrote a waiver. Just sign it.” The sculptor’s smile grew brighter.

“What good is a piece of paper? The stone breaks in your hands—can’t they just come after you? You think you can explain it away with a document?” The friend seemed to recall something. “Take doctors nowadays—don’t they sign some waiver before every surgery? And in the end, if the patient doesn’t make it, they still have to pay up, don’t they?”

“Then… let me ask another way.” The sculptor kept smiling. “If you absolutely had to cut this stone, and you botched it, what would happen?”

“Then… I guess I’d become a laughingstock…” The friend thought as he spoke. “The owner would probably want compensation, my wife and kid would say I have itchy hands, my peers would laugh at me for being a fool—all in all, pretty miserable.”

“And your reputation’s ruined too. Owners won’t remember how many stones you cut well—they’ll only remember whose stone you ruined.” The sculptor added with a smile, “Same as shopping on eBay—first thing you check is the negative reviews. Once that reputation’s on your back, can you still do business?”

“So this really is a job you can’t take…” The friend sighed. “So you had the snot-nosed kid do it?”

“I didn’t tell him to cut it.” The friend looked slightly surprised. “I just told him there was a job, and that the owner said no compensation needed if it wasn’t a skill issue. He decided to cut it himself.”

“Definitely a snot-nosed kid,” the friend clicked his tongue.

“Logically speaking, he has the skill to do it right. When it comes to cutting the stone, he can do it well.” The sculptor’s expression turned serious. “But we thought about a lot of other things—things that are closely tied to us, but have nothing to do with cutting the stone.”

“Young people really don’t think ahead.”

“Can’t say that either. Young people are full of hot blood, they dare to do and dare to take responsibility. They’re not like us—dragging a family along, depending on this for a living. If we botch one, our whole life could be affected. Young people have plenty of chances, no need to be so afraid. A lot of things, after all the thinking, are still not as good as just doing it decisively. Always overthinking, all talk and no action—that won’t do. Sometimes you need not only enough experience, but also the courage to cast aside your worries.”

“So…”

“So when he decided to take the job, I gave him a few pointers, and that’s how it worked out. When people praise him, he’s quite grateful to me, his master—tells everyone it was my teaching.”

“Brilliant!” The friend clapped in praise. “Truly an old hand!”

“Actually, I still want to ask…” The friend lowered his voice. “If your little apprentice had botched it… what would you have done?”

The sculptor made the cutting gesture again, then slid his hand-knife to the side like slicing meat.

The friend understood… and laughed.

The sculptor understood too… and laughed.

Another clink of cups.