Chapter 43

Chapter 43

Jin Niang had always thought herself ordinary—why had Embroidery Master Gu taken an interest in her? Even offering such tempting rewards?

Fortune favors the bold, true enough. If she had no parents or family, becoming a palace official would be a rare opportunity—one she might struggle to attain otherwise. But now, there was no need to take such risks. Once you entered the palace, it was like vanishing into the sea. The court might not execute scholar-officials, but servants and palace women lived under constant threat.

Back when she stayed with the Zhou family, she had barely survived from one day to the next. Now Master Gu was dangling dreams in front of her, asking for loyalty in return. With her beauty, Master Gu could easily have become an imperial consort, yet she’d been sent to the Embroidery Academy as a lowly supervisor. They wanted Jin Niang because of her plain looks—she wouldn’t outshine anyone—and because she came from a poor family, making her easy to control.

Typical merchants—selling dreams while expecting others to risk their lives for them, all while pretending it’s for her benefit.

Jin Niang smiled and said, “Master Gu, I’m grateful for your offer, but I’ve got a wild heart and stubborn streak. I also have parents to care for, so this golden opportunity will only disappoint you.”

To her surprise, Master Gu found her even more trustworthy. A village girl turned embroiderer who worked with precision—she had been watching her closely. Once, she had deliberately left a silver ingot worth twenty-five taels beside her, but Jin Niang hadn’t even looked at it. When Master Gu returned, Jin Niang pointed it out.

From what Master Gu had seen, Wei Jinniang was poor, but honest—never taking what wasn’t hers.

So she still urged, “If I ever rise in rank, I’ll make you my right hand.”

In other words, if Master Gu became a consort, Jin Niang could become a senior lady-in-waiting. But Jin Niang knew better. First, wait until you actually reach that position. Second, you don’t bargain with a tiger—it never ends well. If Master Gu couldn’t even handle the palace consorts now, who’s to say she wouldn’t throw Jin Niang to the wolves when trouble came?

Like the previous embroiderer favored by the emperor’s beloved consort—ordered to sew extravagant robes beyond her station, then sacrificed when ministers raised accusations. Jin Niang politely declined.

“I’m grateful for your offer,” she said, “but my family has already arranged a marriage for me…”

“I see.” This time, Master Gu couldn’t press further.

Jin Niang exhaled quietly. It was just an excuse—she had met several matchmakers before, none of whom impressed her. She needed to raise her own status so that no one would dare come knocking without merit.

Why beg for scraps when I can grow into a towering tree on my own?

As the year ended, Jin Niang sold two floral-patterned jackets at Brocade Pavilion. Along with the shoes and pouches she had made earlier, they brought in thirty guan. She didn’t tell her family—no matter who asked, she claimed thirteen guan monthly: three from the Embroidery Academy and ten from side work. That amount was enough to respect, not enough to covet.

Her family rarely questioned her earnings anyway. Her parents’ business was doing far better now—their faces bright with smiles.

For now, it was best not to exchange money for paper notes—the currency was practically worthless. As for hiding places, Jin Niang had three. The silver ingots and jewelry she had acquired from the Zhou household were all stored in a small box, secured with a copper lock and hidden beneath layers of clothing at the bottom of her wardrobe. These weren’t for daily use.

The other two spots? Not even her parents knew about them.

“Jin Niang, come out and have some soup!”

Hearing her mother call, Jin Niang hurried outside. Luo Yumei had stewed pigeon soup—rich and nourishing. After finishing a bowl, Jin Niang grabbed a steamed bun.

Day-old buns from the shop were always brought home by her parents.

When her parents secured their new shop, Third Uncle had fronted them twenty-five guan, which surprised Jin Niang. Later, she realized why he had so many friends—he lent money freely. He lived simply, in a dark, cramped house, yet craved influence, buying it through loans.

Sure enough, after lunch, Third Uncle arrived with his ledger and said to her father, “I need to collect some debts. Can I take the donkey cart?”

Wei Xiong laughed. “It’s yours. You should buy one yourself—you’d travel easier.”

Third Uncle sighed. “You know I can’t.”

Jin Niang and Luo Yumei both understood it was Auntie who refused. She had once threatened to raise hell if he bought a cart. Still, Wei Xiong handed over the cart, and Third Uncle added, “We’ve got lamb stew on. I’ll have Ying Niang bring some over later.”

Once he left, Luo Yumei mended her husband’s clothes and asked Jin Niang, “Which shop did you say had good cotton batting? I want to make him a padded jacket—he hasn’t worn a proper one in years.”

Jin Niang barely had time to sew for her own family anymore. Most of her free hours were spent working for Brocade Pavilion. So she replied, “There’s a tailor named Zhao. Bring him the fabric and he’ll have batting. Three hundred coins for a padded jacket—if he asks more, go elsewhere.”

“Alright, I’ll go soon.” Luo Yumei hated seeing her husband go without.

Their family's relationship had eased considerably because Third Uncle lent them money, but they had almost ceased contact with Rong Niang’s family. Truthfully, it all came down to Rong Niang. Feng Sheng was an outsider who held no affection for their family, so even though Jin Niang found his actions maddening, she didn’t dwell on them too much. But Rong Niang was their relative—that made it different.

Just as Third Aunt could be difficult, Third Uncle made efforts to mend the relationship.

This year’s New Year preparations were more relaxed than last year’s. The small courtyard was lined with racks of cured meats and ribs. In the kitchen, seven or eight crocks of pickled vegetables stood ready, two huge rice jars were filled to the brim, and a large basket of eggs sat nearby.

Jin Niang stretched lazily before going inside to count her savings. Last year, when she left the Zhou household, she had brought over a hundred guan. After spending thirty guan on household expenses, she still had a hundred left. This year alone, she earned another one hundred and thirty guan—more than what she had earned in three years at the Zhou family.

That totaled over two hundred guan, a sum she wouldn’t have dared dream of before. Yet it was still eight hundred short of a thousand, far from reaching the status of a middle-class household.

Ballling her fists, Jin Niang wondered if it was the pigeon soup that helped her sleep so soundly.

By evening, her parents had prepared dinner, and her younger brother was reading under the lamplight. When Jin Niang emerged, the family gathered together in warmth and harmony. Luo Yüeh glanced at her daughter and asked, “You didn’t listen to your embroidery master—won’t she give you trouble?”

“Trouble? No. Embroidery Master Gu is quite beautiful, which already makes her envied by others. If she were to act spitefully now, she’d only give others more reason to block her from entering the palace,” Jin Niang replied.

Besides, after working with her for nearly a year, Jin Niang could tell that Gu wasn’t that kind of person. The woman had lofty ambitions—for her family and herself—but she was already in her twenties. If she were truly exceptional, she wouldn’t have waited this long. Even if she did enter the palace, her favor likely wouldn’t last more than a few years.

Luo Yüeh was still worried. “Once you enter the palace, it’s like stepping into the deep sea.”

“You’ve learned to say such things now?” Jin Niang laughed.

The next day at the Embroidery Academy, in the final days they rushed to complete a robe for the Empress. Jin Niang secretly thought the layout was ugly, but imperial attire wasn’t something they could critique. At the Academy, they were called embroiderers precisely because every garment had to follow strict ceremonial guidelines without deviation. Everyone adhered to protocol—no matter how creative their ideas, they had to stay within bounds.

It was tedious, repeating the same patterns over and over.

Thankfully, it would soon be over. The New Year break was just days away. After pushing through those last days, Jin Niang rested at home for three days before resuming her sewing. She hadn’t truly rested during any New Year in recent years, but with a goal in mind, the tiredness didn’t weigh her down.

On New Year’s Eve morning, Wei Xiong went out to empty the chamber pot and spotted several ragged men loitering at the alley entrance. Startled, he hurried back inside and told Luo Yüeh.

Jin Niang knew why. She often bought street newspapers—yes, even in the Northern Song there were cheap, widely circulated papers filled with all sorts of news, purely for entertainment.

“I’ve heard there’s been drought in several regions, driving refugees into Kaifeng. We should keep our doors locked tight. Mother, let’s hold off on cooking meat today and minimize the firewood use. The court will surely provide relief soon,” Jin Niang suggested.

Commoners like her read the papers not for grand ambitions but to avoid trouble.

Wei Xiong had bought a fish the day before, intending to braise it for the feast. Hearing his daughter’s words, he sighed. “Fine, we’ll stay inside and avoid going out.”

“Refugees daring to enter the capital itself?” Luo Yüeh remained skeptical.

Jin Niang nodded. “It’s true. Wen Shuhui from the Embroidery Academy had her family’s meat, rice, and money stolen. She’s been complaining bitterly ever since.”

Most residents in Foul Water Alley were renters; few actually owned homes. Once, when troublemakers came knocking, they backed off upon learning Jin Niang’s family owned the house.

Jin Niang was cautious, but others weren’t so careful. Their neighbor, Old Lady Cai, loved to show off. She often boasted about getting gold teeth, and once even flashed her gold necklace and bracelets right in front of Luo Yüeh.

Now, Old Lady Cai and her daughter-in-law were preparing honey-smoked chicken, a specialty reserved for New Year’s. The process was meticulous: soak the chicken in water for an hour, steam briefly, coat with secret sauce, then slow-roast over a little red clay stove, carefully turning it to ensure even heat without burning.

The aroma was irresistible—even Jin Niang’s mouth watered.

“Sister, it smells so good,” Yang Ge said.

Jin Niang patted his shoulder. “Hold on. I’ve got almond cookies and sugar-coated haws for you later.”

The family ate a quick lunch, still hungry, then napped, planning to cook properly in the afternoon if things seemed safe. After all, it was New Year’s Eve.

Jin Niang’s prediction proved right. They were awakened from their nap by Old Lady Cai’s shrieking. Rushing over, they found her ear bleeding. “Those damned thieves! They yanked my gold earrings clean off!” she sobbed.

Her daughter-in-law cried too, saying the honey-smoked chicken, dried meat, and mantou buns they’d prepared had all been stolen. They’d called for the constables, but the culprits were long gone.

Seeing their pitiful state, Jin Niang’s family gave them some rice cakes and rice. As for eggs and meat, Luo Yu’e, unusually free of her do-gooder tendencies, simply said, “No need to let others know what we have at home, or they’ll cling to us and we won’t be able to shake them off.”

Back in Jiangling, Jin Niang had been busy studying and learning crafts, so she hadn’t known her family well. Now that she looked more closely at her parents, she felt differently about them. Her father appeared righteous and obedient on the surface, but he was only going through the motions of morality—deep down, he cared only for himself. Her mother seemed hot-tempered, but she was actually a soft touch who would give everything away to anyone who acted even slightly kind.

So over the past year, Jin Niang had often guided her parents, teaching them at least how to look out for themselves.

“Mother is right,” Jin Niang said with a smile. “Father, why don’t you go check outside? If there are no unfamiliar refugees nearby, we can start cooking the New Year’s Eve dinner.”

Since those people had already taken what they could, they naturally wouldn’t dare come back. Luo Yu’e and Wei Xiong began preparing the dishes, and even Jin Niang helped peel quail eggs. For a while, the house filled with chatter and warmth.

The Zhou family was just as busy. A year had passed, and the eldest daughter had married and was now pregnant—the family’s pride and joy. Even better, the second son, Zhou Cunzhi, had aced the provincial exams and was about to take the palace examination.

Zhang Shi was serving Lady Jiang a bowl of almond soup when Lady Jiang smiled and said, “Cun’ge is about to take the palace exam. Now that you’re managing the household, remember not to look down on his peers. Keep up appearances in your dealings.”

In officialdom, every word and action would be scrutinized.

Zhang Shi might already have understood these things, but she still responded with polite obedience.

After finishing with her mother-in-law, she returned to eat but met the fourth young lady in the corridor. The girl greeted her with a smile, and Zhang Shi couldn’t help showing a flicker of warmth.

The fourth young lady had lost her birth mother and faced hardship, yet she remained sharp-eyed and principled—nothing like her mother.

“Where are you headed, Fourth Young Lady?” Zhang Shi asked.

The girl smiled. “I’m going to see Grand Dame. Cousin Mei said she needed some embroidery patterns from me.”

They parted ways, and as the fourth young lady walked alone, she suddenly felt sorrow rise within her. She hadn’t expected Concubine Miao to die in childbirth this time around. Just before labor, she had been laughing and talking about what would happen if she had another son—only to vanish in an instant. Worse still, all her mother’s attendants had been dismissed, and a mere ten taels of silver had bought her coffin.

But she wasn’t foolish. Concubine Miao must have been taken out prematurely by Wu Luan, though for some reason her death had come years earlier than it should have.

In *The Strategy of Becoming a Second Wife*, Concubine Miao had convinced Qin Ge’s wet nurse to harm him, nearly killing Wu Luan during childbirth. But in this life, perhaps due to her own transmigration, the story had changed completely.

Wu Luan had removed those around Qin Ge early and given birth safely—while her own concubine had died instead.

Now, with her three older sisters already betrothed, she had no one to rely on and had to watch her step carefully, even playing up to others. The Grand Dame was her best hope—even though she was old and frail, the book had shown her living until the very end.

The Grand Dame’s quarters were lively, with Mei Pan’er and the third young lady present. The third young lady carried herself with unshakable poise—now engaged to a renowned scholar whose future was set. Recalling their past conflicts, she now treated the fourth young lady kindly after the loss of her birth mother.

As the fourth young lady entered, she noticed a shadow of worry on Mei Pan’er’s face and understood that her cousin’s situation was worse. Though she had lost Concubine Miao, she still had a full-blooded younger brother and was a legitimate daughter of the house. She and Mei Pan’er got along well—after Concubine Miao’s death, Mei Pan’er had introduced her to the Grand Dame.

She owed her one, and meant to repay it.

When the Grand Dame grew tired, she whispered to Mei Pan’er, “Cousin, I must congratulate you—your luck’s about to turn.”

“You rascal,” Mei Pan’er replied with a half-smile. “You talk too much. Until my future is settled, I can’t rest easy.”

The fourth young lady had overheard bits of conversation yesterday while paying respects to Lady Jiang. Although Zhang Shi now managed the household, Lady Jiang hadn’t fully let go of control.

“Cousin Han has aced the provincial exams,” she added. “I hear he’s a real prodigy.”

Mei Pan’er only smiled bitterly at that.

The fourth young lady knew from the book that Han Xiao, also known as Han Qilang, would eventually become a duke and chancellor. In the Song Dynasty, a jinshi degree was priceless. With her father recently promoted in the Ministry of Revenue, and Mei Pan’er being the Grand Dame Han’s granddaughter, she was a perfect match for Cousin Han.

But Mei Pan’er sighed, “You naïve thing, that’s probably meant for you.”

Her? The fourth young lady shook her head. The book never mentioned her marrying a scholar—it had her married off as her eldest sister’s successor instead.

On New Year’s Day, Jin Niang accompanied her parents to Fengqiu Gate in the northern part of the district. Festive pavilions lined the streets, and vendors hawked hats, combs, jewelry, jade hairpins, garments, collars, and other adornments.

Luo Yue wanted to buy flowers for Jin Niang to wear, but Jin Niang refused: "The ones you bought for me before haven’t been used yet. I’ll dress up once I lose some weight."

"You always say you’ll lose weight, but with how busy you are, not only have you not slimmed down, you’ve even gotten even rounder," Luo Yue said.

She then added, "Who says full-figured women can’t dress up? The fuller you are, the more you should dress beautifully."

Once the new year passed, her daughter would be seventeen—already on the older side by conventional standards. Most girls her age were either preparing for marriage or already married, yet her daughter still hadn’t found a match. How could she, as a parent, not worry?

But her daughter was extremely strong-willed, and neither she nor her husband could persuade her otherwise.

Jin Niang was like this—she always took the initiative in everything to avoid being passive. What she wanted to do, she would achieve. With that, she browsed through the embroidery at each stall. Having long worked at the Embroidery Academy, she was accustomed to rigid embroidery protocols—how to meticulously follow others’ patterns without overstepping. Though she also visited the Silk Art Gallery, she had never truly witnessed the skills of independent embroiderers.

Only by learning from all could she improve herself.

Truthfully, if a woman could set aside marriage and childbirth, free from the so-called obligations of age, she could truly specialize in her craft and even live with great ease.

"Mother, look—this person actually embroidered daffodils with strands of hair!" Jin Niang pulled her mother over to see.

Luo Yue gasped in admiration, then pointed to another handkerchief embroidered with daffodils. "I still think this one looks better."

Jin Niang laughed. As insiders, they judged embroidery by technique, but most buyers weren’t experts—they simply wanted something beautiful.

Hmm, daffodils paired with nasturtiums looked truly stunning. The vibrant crimson of the nasturtium contrasted beautifully with the green of the daffodil, creating a bright yet refined palette that seemed bursting with vitality.

This outing was indeed worthwhile—one couldn’t work in isolation.

Originally, the family planned to visit the Great Xiangguo Temple the next day, but Jin Niang refused to go out, focusing solely on sketching floral patterns and designing new styles.

Feng Sheng was equally busy. He had been accompanying his wife and daughter on their outing when he was abruptly called back to treat a patient. Without strong connections, though his medical skills were decent, he lacked the backing others had. One mistake could cost him dearly.

But precisely because of his diligence, he now earned over fifty guan a month. Though exhausting, it meant he could eventually afford a large house in the capital and hire renowned tutors for his sons. That alone would make his life’s toil worthwhile.

Thus, whenever summoned, he immediately had the carriage take him there, while sending a servant to escort Rong Niang and their child home.

However, the Feng household had few servants, and Rong Niang and her child were quickly separated in the crowd, nearly accosted by a stranger. Fortunately, the servant found them in time, or the consequences would have been dire.

...

For others, the New Year was about festivity or matters of survival, but for Jin Niang, it meant successfully crafting a new garment—one that even sold on the Lantern Festival day. If her guess was right, she could pocket at least fifteen guan from it.

However, the Embroidery Academy also grew busier. The newly minted scholars were about to have their names announced at Donghua Gate, and the court needed new robes made for the jinshi. This task fell to Jin Niang and her colleagues.

They would first stitch standard-sized robes, then adjust them after seeing the scholars in person.

As a result, Jin Niang had little time left for side projects.

The announcement at Donghua Gate was a triumph for scholars. Zhou Cunzhi, still young, placed sixth among the top candidates. Just as he should have been basking in pride, he noticed Han Xiao—only nineteen, yet ranked above him.

He wasn’t the type to envy talent, but he had always believed himself far superior to Han Xiao. Now, the latter had overtaken him.

Just as the announcements concluded, a group of women officials approached, interrupting Zhou Cunzhi’s thoughts. The person taking his measurements looked oddly familiar.

Jin Niang recognized Zhou Cunzhi too—she actually knew someone here! She quickly stepped forward with a smile and congratulated him: "Second Young Master, congratulations on your success at Donghua Gate."

"It’s you—the pl—Jin Niang." Zhou Cunzhi never forgot a face or a name.

Jin Niang grinned. "Yes, it’s me. It’s an honor to make robes for you again, Second Young Master."

Zhou Cunzhi had thought his eyes were playing tricks on him, but running into an acquaintance did lift his spirits. However, he was notoriously awkward—acerbic and haughty, impatient with fools. He merely said, "Now that you’re a female official, tend to your presentation. No matter how clever you are inside, if you look foolish on the outside, the emperor won’t notice you."

Jin Niang, initially delighted, realized he’d mistaken her for a female official but couldn’t explain. Still, was it appropriate to comment on a girl’s looks and figure like that?

"Hmph!" Seeing that nothing good came from his mouth, Jin Niang huffed and turned away, then went to take other jinshi’s measurements.

Leaving Zhou Cunzhi standing there dumbfounded.