Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

Jin Niang, having overeaten, stepped out to answer nature’s call when she unexpectedly came across Aunt Deng, who was trussed up like a hog. Jin Niang had seen Aunt Deng before—a sharp and highly favored woman with perfectly groomed brows and eyes—yet here she was in such a state.

The leader of the group, Old Sun Ma, declared, “The master and madam treated her so well, yet she turned to thievery! Who would dare keep such a thief?”

Thievery? Jin Niang found it hard to believe. Though Aunt Deng wasn’t the main wife, the second household was known for its wealth, and she was well-favored. Whatever she wanted was practically within reach—why resort to something as self-defeating as this?

But household drama was always messy. As Lanxiang whispered, “I heard she had a hand in killing the second madam’s son and tried to pull the same stunt again. The eldest young master’s concubine caught her in the act and reported her.”

“So that’s why? But I clearly heard it was theft,” Jin Niang wondered.

Lanxiang chuckled, “In a great household like ours, how could word of internal strife spread? Better to sweep big problems under the rug. Otherwise, what would outsiders say? Our second young master is still arranging a marriage, and the young ladies aren’t wed yet. We can’t shatter a jade vase just to catch a rat.”

Jin Niang nodded in realization. “That makes sense.”

“So where was she sent? Back home or somewhere else?”

Lanxiang replied, “She got twenty lashes under house discipline and was sent away with nothing but the clothes on her back. Aunt Deng used to be a wine-seller, and her former husband was a real piece of work too. The whole family relied on her. When she had money, they only thought of taking from her. Now that she’s broke, who would care?”

Jin Niang thought that while fighting for the master’s attention was one thing, harming a child crossed a line. If this had been exposed and taken to the authorities, her fate would have been far worse.

Yet the fourth young lady was deeply dissatisfied. Aunt Deng had treated Concubine Miao terribly, yet she was merely expelled. She complained to Concubine Miao, “Isn’t this too weak? Aunt Deng has no powerful family backing—what is there to fear?”

Concubine Miao understood better. “Stirring the pot will only make things worse.”

“But the *Song Criminal Code* punishes the ‘Ten Abominations’ and ‘Four Killings.’ What Aunt Deng did was one of the Four Killings.” The fourth young lady had looked this up in her past life just to argue. The “Four Killings” referred to premeditated murder, killing in a brawl, killing during robbery, and intentional killing. Those guilty of such crimes were sentenced to death—whether by slow slicing, flogging to death, or being chopped in half.

Aunt Deng deserved death, yet Wu Shi let her off too lightly. After all, Aunt Deng had killed her own son.

Concubine Miao had already avenged herself and was now focusing on her pregnancy. Hearing her daughter speak so recklessly, she had planned to have her join the master for dinner later, but now she pretended not to hear. Instead, she said gently, “Such words are not for a young lady. Go do your needlework. The grand madam’s birthday is approaching. Because you refused to bind your feet, I was scolded by her. Best to behave.”

The fourth young lady was baffled. She admired Concubine Miao, Miao Qiuhong, precisely because she was different from the submissive heroines in those feudal-era novels—she was ambitious, daring, and never saw herself as inferior due to status.

Though she sensed that ancient parent-child relationships differed from modern ones, she still wished to share everything with Concubine Miao. But Concubine Miao did not reciprocate.

...

After three days in the second household, Jin Niang earned two taels and three mace (~1.5 oz silver, ~3 days’ wages). She even picked up a side hustle—copying sutras for others. Wu Shi’s maid weighed out one tael of silver for her: “This is payment for five volumes.”

One volume was worth two strings of cash—200 copper coins per volume—so five volumes totaled one tael.

Wu Shi likely didn’t know how well she wrote, so she had her test with five volumes first.

Back in her room, Jin Niang cut the paper with bamboo strips and began grinding ink for copying.

She often practiced Liu Gongquan’s regular script. His calligraphy was balanced, lean, and firm, drawing from the decisive force of Northern Wei steles—sharp strokes, vigorous structure, and tight composition. Compared to Yan Zhenqing’s style, it was slightly more uniform and lean, hence the saying “Yan’s tendons, Liu’s bones.”

The *Diamond Sutra* had over 5,000 characters, and she had to copy five volumes—these were meant to be burned before Zhou Duzhi’s ancestral tablet, though surely more would be needed.

Since her main tasks were done, earning extra money was fine.

Fang Qiaolian, seeing Jin Niang’s efforts, felt a twinge of envy. “You’re really raking it in these days…”

“Just earning a hard-won pittance. I love eating, so a few extra dishes and it’s gone. If I had your skill in embroidering dragon-and-phoenix quilts, I wouldn’t need these side hustles.” Jin Niang wrinkled her nose, playing poor without a hint of shame.

Yesterday, Madam Chen had pushed Concubine Miao’s baby clothes and swaddling onto her, hinting she’d get a bonus.

At these words, Fang Qiaolian held her tongue and turned back to her work. She still had unfinished clothing for the servants and additional tasks from Concubine Miao, keeping her thoroughly occupied.

Qin Shuanger felt resentment festering as she saw Madam Chen favor Jin Niang and Fang Qiaolian. Seeking an opportunity to curry favor with the Second Young Master’s household, she took some hoarded treats—saved from her own rations—and went in search of Cui Xian’s younger sister, who happened to be working in the garden.

Meanwhile, Shanjie could never seem to sleep enough. She had resolved to live one day at a time now, resigned to whatever came next.

Finally, Jin Niang finished copying a scroll and stretched. Fang Qiaolian gave her shoulder a tap. “I’m going to Concubine Miao’s first. Keep an eye on things here for me.”

“All right,” Jin Niang nodded firmly.

Fang Qiaolian quickly made her way to Concubine Miao’s quarters, where she found the concubine instructing someone to have the kitchen prepare wine and dishes. Seeing the seamstress arrive, Concubine Miao noticed the silver-gilded double butterfly hairpin in Fang Qiaolian’s hair and her well-groomed appearance. She knew all too well how ambitious servants could be, especially those who dressed so carefully to attract attention.

So Concubine Miao dismissed her: “Go back for now. It’s not convenient. Come again later.”

No one knew when “later” might be, and Fang Qiaolian dared not ask further. She couldn’t help but feel the difference between concubines and principal wives—the First, Second, and Third Madams were always courteous, while concubines only seemed intent on making life difficult for their subordinates.

Concubine Miao paid no mind. When Master Zhou arrived, despite being with child, she still poured him a cup of wine. Master Zhou didn’t particularly favor her, but while Lv Xiaoniang was charming yet overly proper, Yan Hong was young and timid, and Jiang Shi, older, maintained only polite respect. Only Concubine Miao was accommodating in every manner.

“These days, the First Madam has to manage Cun’er’s marriage arrangements, assist with the Second Household’s affairs, and attend to the Old Madam. I don’t know how she manages it all alone. If you have any matters, don’t trouble her unnecessarily,” Master Zhou said to Concubine Miao.

Though it sounded like concern, Concubine Miao inwardly sneered at his hypocrisy. Just like Zhou Duzhi of the Second Household, whose death was brought about by excessive indulgence in sensual pleasures. That had been her doing—she had secretly sent someone to him, and the woman had taken aphrodisiacs to please him, eventually draining him to his death.

It couldn’t be helped. After all, Wu Shi had failed to save her years ago, and Zhou Duzhi had remained devoted to his stepmother. So she had planted someone to drive a wedge between them, intending only to create discord between mother and son. She hadn’t expected that woman to keep increasing the dosage in desperation to conceive, until he finally collapsed from exhaustion.

With such leverage, the woman lived in fear, allowing Concubine Miao to manipulate her into framing Aunt Deng with curses. After all, Aunt Deng wasn’t innocent—she had been watching her closely. A quick investigation confirmed her suspicions. It served her right.

Yet, facing Master Zhou, Concubine Miao smiled sweetly. “This concubine feels the same. During my pregnancy, I’ve stayed indoors so as not to trouble the First Madam, who even sent someone to make clothes for my unborn child.”

Master Zhou was pleased to see harmony among his wives and concubines.

While Concubine Miao enjoyed her success, Fang Qiaolian returned in a huff and lay down in frustration. Jin Niang, yawning as she wrote, lighted an oil lamp—even though it wasn’t yet dark, the room had grown dim.

In the stillness, hurried footsteps approached.

“Shanjie, why are you still here? The Aunt is summoning you!”

Shanjie bolted upright in bed, recognizing the maid assigned to the Aunt by the Old Madam. “Sister Chunyan, but the sewing room’s workload is mounting—”

Hearing the commotion, Jin Niang stepped out. “Yes, with the Dragon Boat Festival coming up, we’ll be swamped.”

Shanjie felt deeply moved by Jin Niang’s support. She knew Qin Shuanger spoke sweetly but vanished when trouble arose, while Jin Niang, though usually keeping to herself, would stand up when needed.

“Oh dear, my sister, I understand your situation, but who dares defy the Aunt’s orders? When the masters command, do we have any choice?” Chunyan replied helplessly.

Shanjie looked toward Jin Niang, who could only shake her head helplessly—there was nothing they could do. Even if they weren’t low-born slaves, their service could be reassigned at will.

Ashen-faced, Shanjie followed Chunyan away.

Jin Niang sighed softly and turned to go back inside, only to see Qin Shuanger return. “Shanjie’s going to get scolded even worse now—she’ll definitely be targeted. If only she’d stayed away, saving you all your pointless kindness.”

“You’re always creating problems—can you solve any? If not, why say such things? If you ever face trouble, we’ll stay silent too, offering no help,” Jin Niang shot back. They weren’t close friends—colleagues rarely were—but each did what she could. It wasn’t the Aunt’s strictness to blame, but those who criticized others for showing kindness.

Qin Shuanger was left speechless. She hadn’t expected this round-faced girl who looked so docile to have such cutting words.