Chapter 42

Chapter 42

Feng Sheng assumed the groom's status surpassed the bride's, so he only let the groom inspect the bride without informing her beforehand. He planned to discuss the matter with Wei Xiong and Luo Yue after the banquet.

In his view, Wei Xiong was a timid man with no opinions of his own, while Luo Yue, though somewhat temperamental, was actually narrow-minded and usually quite obedient to him. As for Jin Niang, he didn’t even consider her opinion. He wasn’t doing this for a matchmaker’s fee but out of genuine concern.

Neither Jin Niang nor her mother knew about this. The women were all dining in the backyard, where the food was indeed lavish. Her third aunt kept shoveling food nonstop, while her mother ate more delicately, as their household no longer lacked rich food.

Among the dishes was a plate of fried meatballs—crispy on the outside, tender on the inside, and not greasy at all. Jin Niang remarked, “These fried meatballs are excellent. Thankfully, they aren’t drowned in thick gravy like the last batch I had.”

Rong Niang smiled. “I’m glad you like them. Here, try this sweet eight-treasure rice too.” She made a move to serve Jin Niang, who quickly said, “I can serve myself.”

Rong Niang then praised Jin Niang at the table. “Second Aunt, I see Jin Niang’s complexion has become much fairer, and the dark circles under her eyes have faded.”

“Of course,” Luo Yue replied. Though she wished her daughter would slim down a bit, what mother wouldn’t be pleased to hear her child complimented?

The meal was enjoyable for everyone. However, when Feng Sheng and his wife called Wei Xiong and Luo Yue aside after the banquet, Jin Niang sensed something amiss.

Once her parents returned, Luo Yue immediately told Jin Niang about the matter in the carriage.

Jin Niang was furious. “How dare they meddle in my marriage affairs? A widower dares to propose to me? Did you ask him to arrange this? Let me make this clear—if anyone tries to force me, we’ll part ways. If I suffer, they won’t escape unscathed either. Does he think I can’t retaliate?”

She was not one to be trifled with. Though she usually kept to herself, now they dared to dictate her life.

Luo Yue watched as her daughter’s temper flared like an unsheathed sword, sharp and unyielding. “I also think it’s inappropriate. Your brother-in-law mentioned that the man has four or five servants at home, so you wouldn’t have to work hard—”

“That’s not the point! The man is over a decade older than me, mediocre-looking, and has a child. I may not be some prize catch, but I’d rather die than marry a widower or become a concubine—not in this life or the next.” Jin Niang scoffed.

Luo Yue tried to console her. “We never asked your brother-in-law to find a match for you. He sprang this on us, and I was caught off guard too.”

Jin Niang retorted, “I'm done setting foot in their house. He can do as he pleases in his own home, but he has no right to interfere in my affairs. What makes that man so special? Or him, for that matter? Just wait—I'll outshine any man someday.”

Jin Niang’s anger was palpable. Luo Yue later told Rong Niang, “Jin Niang is furious. She asked why she should marry such a man when she’s done nothing to offend her brother-in-law. She also felt insulted that they arranged for her to be observed without consulting us first.”

Rong Niang was at a loss for words. “Second Aunt, we truly meant well. That man earns hundreds of strings of cash a year—we weren’t looking down on her…”

“From now on, don’t trouble yourselves with my daughter’s marriage,” Luo Yue said coldly before leaving in a huff.

Rong Niang sat down, holding her belly, and said to Feng Sheng, “Our good intentions bred nothing but resentment. Does Second Aunt think her daughter is a goddess descended from heaven?”

In her eyes, Jin Niang was plain as rice porridge, couldn’t cook, and had a prickly disposition. Her sole redeeming quality was her youth at sixteen, yet they refused to seize this opportunity.

Feng Sheng raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Let’s see what kind of perfect husband she ends up with.”

With Jin Niang’s marriage prospects soured and their business struggling, Luo Yue considered finding another shop. However, as June arrived, the skies opened over Bianjing. At first, it was just light showers, but soon it poured relentlessly, forcing the Embroidery Academy to dismiss everyone.

The city suffered severe flooding. Though Jin Niang’s family had enough rice and grain—they had kept the rations she received instead of selling them—her Brocade Pavilion gig went down the drain.

She had planned to earn a hundred strings of cash this year, but the heavens had other ideas. Truly, storms brew in an instant, and fortune shifts in a day.

Well, since things had turned out this way, she might as well take stock of her embroidery weaknesses. The Embroidery Academy had real virtuosos—some excelled in double-sided embroidery with contrasting colors, while others, like Embroidery Master Gu, even mastered triple-sided embroidery. Master Gu had trained under renowned embroiderers since childhood; her family ran restaurants and tailoring businesses, especially owning twelve major shops in Pingjiang Prefecture and Lin’an Prefecture, with her father holding a thirty percent stake.

Those selected for the academy weren’t taught much. Jin Niang had once treated the woman skilled in double-sided embroidery to a meal, hoping for guidance, but the woman only paid lip service to teaching without truly imparting anything.

As for Master Gu and others like her, they had been learning the most intricate techniques since childhood.

Jin Niang had come to realize that if she wanted to learn others' skills, they wouldn’t teach her. In her lifetime, she would likely remain only a mid-tier embroiderer.

But...

She stood up and smiled. After all, top-tier embroidery wasn't for everyone. Most people were ordinary, and her clothes were mainly sold to mid-ranking officials and well-off families. She might not become a top embroiderer, but she could aim for better-than-average.

Just like the five grades of imperial examination candidates—only ten made the first rank, but the emperor governed the people with more than just those ten.

One must find their own place. She had already mastered gold-leaf stamping and gold-line tracing techniques, but truthfully, these required purchasing gold foil, which was expensive, and buyers might not be plentiful.

She’d been overthinking it.

The most urgent task now wasn’t crafting such luxuries but creating her own signature designs—moving from imitation to original work. That was what she should focus on.

Moreover, she was already skilled in floral and bird embroidery, so she should specialize in that instead of chasing whatever’s trendy.

Classics never go out of style.

A few days later, the heavy rains ceased, the sun emerged, and the mess and gloom dissipated.

A few tiles on Jin Niang’s roof had blown off, so her father hired a roofer to fix them. Prices in the capital had shot up. Her third uncle’s family had been renting the shabbiest two rooms, but now the tree in front collapsed, crushing half their house.

Her third aunt wanted to send her children to Jin Niang’s home, but her mother shut that down fast, saying their own roof was leaking and the family of four was already cramped—they couldn’t take in others.

Seeing this, Ying Niang couldn’t help but think that her desperate effort to buy a house had been the right choice. At least she wasn’t at the mercy of others for shelter. She had always felt suffocated by the debt, but now she saw the necessity.

By July, the weather grew sweltering, and the Embroidery Academy reduced work to half-days. Jin Niang and the others would clock in in the morning and return home by noon for meals. She propped open the window and began sketching in her room.

Previously, she had imitated others’ works, but now she started creating her own. In summer, women typically wore sleeveless vests and single-layered robes with fitted trousers. Jin Niang adored pink, so most of her clothes were in pretty-in-pink shades. Her vest was a soft lotus-root purple, layered with another of the same color in crepe.

She embroidered small clusters of wisteria on the robes, finding them elegant and refined. Yet that month, she only pulled in a bit over three strings of cash.

Still, she didn’t lose heart. She had assumed simplicity and grace would appeal, but it turned out too niche—no one bought them. Even the shopkeeper was hinting it wasn’t selling.

So before the Mid-Autumn Festival, Jin Niang rushed out another set of clothes. This time, she got it right—embroidering pomegranates, tangerines, and grapes along the collar, in bright but tasteful colors. The design carried a fortunate meaning: "Luck and Many Sons."

Thanks to this symbolism, the set earned her nineteen strings of cash.

Jin Niang didn’t know whether to laugh or sigh.

During the Mid-Autumn Festival, her parents found another shop near an elementary school, paying only three months’ rent upfront. Meanwhile, Jin Niang bought steamed buns from a popular shop near the State Bridge to bring home.

"I’ve always thought that if we’re in the food business, we should taste what the top bun shops are doing right. That’s how we can improve our own flavors," Jin Niang said, respecting the hustle of outsiders who came from afar to make a living in Bianjing. Every corner of the capital had food vendors, and even roadside peddlers carried baskets of snacks—it wasn’t easy to establish oneself.

Luo Yue agreed wholeheartedly. "Jin Niang is right. Let me break one open and see."

Truthfully, the meat filling in this famous shop’s buns wasn’t as generous as theirs, but the broth was rich, plentiful, and not overly greasy. Their buns even gleamed with juice.

Once her parents finished their morning business, Jin Niang took everyone to Monastery Roast Pork at Xiangguo Temple for grilled meat.

Grilled meat wasn’t unusual in modern times, with countless barbecue shops teasing taste buds, but the Monastery Roast Pork of the Song Dynasty was no less impressive.

"You’re saying the pork is roasted by a monk?" Luo Yue asked, incredulous.

Jin Niang nodded with a smile. "Yes, a monk called Huiming." Then, seeing the crowd surging, she quickly added, "Once we get in, we’ll need to grab seats fast."

Once seated, they found everything around them fascinating. Hawkers peddled nuts, wine, and side dishes nearby. Jin Niang ordered pickled plums, preserved plums, a plate of fruits, a small jug of wine, and three cups of spiced drinks.

The roasted pork finally arrived. She had specifically asked for five-layered pork belly, and it turned out exactly like crispy-skinned five-layered pork belly—wrapped in perilla leaves, absolutely satisfying.

Even the pickiest eater, Yang Geer, gobbled it up, juices running down his chin, as if he wanted to use all four limbs to devour it faster.

As they were eating, they overheard two men talking behind them. One said, "This time I’ve come to the capital for the imperial exams. If I fail again, I truly won’t have the face to see my parents, wife, and children."

"Brother Shen, you hail from the Wu Xing Shen family. For you, passing the imperial exams is as easy as reaching into a bag," another man laughed.

The man surnamed Shen replied, "Brother Lin, we get along so well. Do you have any children? If I pass this time, why don’t we become in-laws?"

Jin Niang, sitting ahead, couldn’t help but smile. That’s how things worked in the Song Dynasty—one could go from being a farmer in the morning to standing before the emperor by nightfall.

Then the man surnamed Lin said, "I’m not yet married. My mother insists I hold off on marrying until I pass the imperial exams."

Clearly impressed, the other man responded, "Your mother has high hopes for you."

...

After drinking a few more cups of wine, the two men left. Seeing her parents’ puzzled expressions, Jin Niang explained with a smile, "These days, many men put off marriage until later in life, waiting to pass the imperial exams so they can rise overnight. Then they can marry daughters of officials and receive lavish dowries, securing a prosperous future. If they come from poor families and marry women of similar status, they’ll lack support in official circles later on."

"So when one is still insignificant, they must bide their time. Only when they’re capable enough should they seek a suitable match, so both sides are happy. If they marry hastily, disparities may arise later, leading to resentment."

After all, everyone is ordinary. What’s the point of ‘lifting up the poor’? Even Father once said that if he had married the daughter of a military officer back then, he wouldn’t be in this sorry state now. Even someone as honest as him harbored such regrets—fortunately, Mother gets mad fast but cools down just as quick, never holding grudges.

Luo Yue handed a handkerchief to Yang Geer to wipe his mouth and admitted frankly, "Yes, Mother always worries you’ll miss your chance to marry well. Marrying off a daughter too early could lead to a lifetime of regret if things don’t turn out."

"Look at our family. You and Father run a small business, just scraping by. But with our daughter’s support, we have three meals of white rice a day, occasionally some meat, and even eat out once in a while. This kind of life may not be considered good by many, but at least it’s comfortable and free."

In truth, her parents are set in their ways. Having interacted with few people, they only know one way of life. But after seeing different kinds of people, perspectives might change.

Take Jin Niang, for example. Though she was still just a worker at the Embroidery Academy, she had been building her strength for a long time. Who knows what the future might hold?

After leaving the roast pork shop, Jin Niang strolled around the Great Xiangguo Temple as usual. It was already afternoon, less bustling than in the morning but still lively as ever.

Luo Yue spotted a stall selling illustrated books ahead and quickly asked her daughter, "Jin Niang, do you want to buy some?"

"No," Jin Niang replied. She had already learned from her clothing business—certain styles and patterns sold well, so there was no need to constantly strive for uniqueness. It was better to stick to a few similar designs, just like in her past life when she wrote scripts—stick to what you're good at instead of switching tracks.

"If you don’t want books, let’s buy some sugar-roasted chestnuts to take home," Luo Yue said, smacking her lips.

Jin Niang laughed. "Here we go again. Haven’t you had enough sugar-roasted chestnuts? Fine, fine, I’ll go with you."

Truthfully, Luo Yue couldn’t bear the thought of her daughter marrying away. The reason she thought Shao Shengping was a good match was that she hoped he would move in with them, so the family could live together. That was also why she decided to use all her savings to secure a house.

In September, Rong Niang gave birth. Luo Yue and Wei Xiong both claimed they were too busy with work to visit, saying they’d send gifts later when they hosted a celebration. This was their way of showing solidarity.

A family must stand together. Otherwise, if the daughter resented them while the parents acted as if nothing was wrong, wouldn’t that make her look pitiable in others’ eyes?

Rong Niang had another son this time—twice the celebration. However, her second uncle’s family didn’t show up. She and Feng Sheng suspected it was because of Jin Niang.

But none of this affected Jin Niang anymore, because they had now begun learning three new embroidery techniques. Before, they had only known the basics, but now they were delving deeper. It wasn’t that the artisans were willing to teach them—it was because they were about to embroider robes for officials.

For example, the "rolling stitch" was used for water ripples, clouds, and willow branches; the "scattered set stitch" had uneven needlework but natural color transitions, ideal for flowers, birds, and animals; and the "dotting stitch" was for freehand floral designs.

Previously, they had worked blindly as mere embroiderers. Now, for the sake of business, they were finally being taught something useful.

Jin Niang wasn’t the quickest learner, so she meticulously recorded each technique in her notes and even practiced them herself.

With normal intelligence, diligence, and a bit of talent, she was getting closer to becoming a top-tier embroiderer. After teaching the stitches, Embroidery Master Gu added, "The Imperial Consort has commissioned a jacket. A hundred butterflies are to be embroidered on gauzy silk. Chief Embroiderer has already drawn the design. The five of you will work on it as a team."

The task was assigned to the group, and the five of them divided the work among themselves. Jin Niang said, "Then I'll start by sketching the twenty butterflies I'm responsible for and move straight on to embroidering them."

No one objected, as it was well known that although Jin Niang might not be the most skilled embroiderer anymore, she was certainly the fastest and made the fewest mistakes.

The butterflies this time were drawn with exceptional delicacy. Jin Niang had initially considered creating her own designs but decided against it, opting instead to carefully copy an extra set to take home. Unlike modern times with abundant information, ancient society was strictly hierarchical, and finding such professional patterns in the future might prove difficult.

The skirt took nearly a month to embroider because each butterfly was unique, and the embroiderers had to coordinate their efforts.

However, it was later heard that the skirt, which had taken so much painstaking work, was discarded by the consort after she stained it with pomegranate juice while eating. Embroidery Master Gu remained philosophical about it and even comforted Jin Niang and the others: "Although the emperor is frugal, the consorts' privileges are set. Discarding a skirt is nothing unusual. As long as we do our own work well, that's what truly matters."

"Yes, Master," Jin Niang and the others answered dutifully.

The colleagues at the Embroidery Academy were different from those in the Zhou household. During work hours, each stayed at her own embroidery frame, and after work, everyone went home, so only a few became close.

At the moment, it was a leisurely time, and everyone was having tea and snacks. The pastries had been brought by Xu Sanjie, who said, "These were gifted to my family. I thought they were quite good, so I brought some for you to try."

Her husband was a minor official and often received tributes. Jin Niang took a bite and remarked, "Not bad at all—similar to the snacks I had at the Zhouqiao night market last time."

Since everyone here earned fixed wages, there was no sense of competition. Jin Niang also took out some hawthorn cakes to share. "Here, these will whet your appetite. I bought them yesterday from Granny Huang’s stall—there was quite a queue, but I managed to get some."

Just then, several eunuchs burst in and dragged away one of the embroiderers. Jin Niang and the others froze in silence. Only after they left did Embroidery Master Gu explain, "That embroiderer violated regulations by working on a garment above her station. Naturally, she must be dealt with according to palace rules."

It turned out the embroiderer had secretly accepted gifts from a consort. In the imperial harem, only the empress and empress dowager could wear garments embroidered with twenty-four flowers, while consorts were limited to eighteen.

Jin Niang had initially thought this was a relaxed environment, but now she realized it could be a matter of life and death.

However, she was surprised when Embroidery Master Gu took her aside for a private word. Currently, the Embroidery Academy had three hundred members, with over seventy in the flowers-and-birds section. Among them, ten were phantom workers—they bore the title of female official but did not actually work, yet still collected salaries. Jin Niang and the others filled these vacancies. They had no official standing, were not registered as artisans, and only had three-year contracts. After three years, they might stay or be let go.

So why had Embroidery Master Gu summoned her now?

She entered cautiously and greeted, "Master Gu."

"Sit down. I heard you can read?" Master Gu smiled.

Jin Niang nodded. "I only recognize a few characters, nothing extensive."

"Don't be nervous. I wanted to ask if you're aware of our dynasty's system for female officials," Master Gu suddenly inquired.

Jin Niang shook her head. "I'm just a country girl who's always focused on hard labor. I know nothing about female officials."

Master Gu smiled warmly. "There are two paths to becoming a female official in our dynasty. The first is through imperial examinations, selecting talented women—mostly from prominent families. The second is through internal selection among palace maids. The former are few, the latter many. I've noticed your excellent needlework, diligence, and literacy, so I'd like to recommend you for the female official selection, bypassing the palace maid route entirely."

Jin Niang had never considered becoming a female official and was puzzled. "What do female officials do? And why recommend me? There are many in the Embroidery Academy more skilled than I am."

"Not necessarily. Female officials are ranked in eight grades, from highest to lowest: Imperial Lecturer—responsible for instructing the emperor; Imperial Preacher—delivering sermons; Imperial Scholar—advising on literature; Imperial Policy Advisor—discussing state affairs; Commissioner of the Xuanhui Court—managing imperial documents; Commissioner of the Inner Censorate—offering counsel; Inner Selected Talents and Inner Presented Scholars—the lowest ranks, serving only at banquets for the empress and empress dowager. Higher ranks like the Commissioners manage the emperor's documents and correspondence and may even offer advice. Female officials typically serve eight years in the palace, but if you earn the trust of the emperor, empress, or empress dowager, you may stay longer."

Having a rank and participating in governance sounded wonderful, but Jin Niang asked, "But why recommend me instead of someone from your own family?"

After all, Master Gu herself had risen from the female official system.

Master Gu was candid. "I hail from the Gu clan of Jiangnan. My family had high hopes for me, but obstacles prevented my advancement. The emperor favors those of humble origins—just as most top scholars come from modest backgrounds. You appear to have no powerful connections, making it easier for you to rise. Of course, I don't expect you to do anything unethical—just put in a good word for me when possible. If I gain a chance to advance, I'll reward you generously in the future."

"No need to decide now. Think it over and give me your answer in three days."