Chapter 51

**Chapter 51**

The sky was just beginning to lighten when the courtyard had already been swept clean. Ju Xiang tossed the broom aside and went inside to check on the dough, which had risen nicely. She began pulling it from the basin, pinching off portions, rolling them with a rolling pin, and quickly wrapping them into shepherd’s purse dumplings, which she placed in the steamer.

Today marked the opening of the embroidery shop, and the mistress had specifically instructed that hearty food be prepared so no one would go hungry.

While waiting for the steamer to build steam, Ju Xiang fetched another bucket of water. The Weis’ setup was handy—right outside the kitchen stood a well, its water sweet and refreshing.

As the dumplings neared readiness, she banked the coals beneath the stove and spread fine charcoal on top. Reluctantly, she filled a copper bed warmer with hot water. The coals were, of course, for the young lady, but the bed warmer was for A Ying. The mistress was excellent in every way, though perhaps too lenient with the servants. But then again, she herself was a servant, so this thought brought her some comfort.

Thanks to six months of successful dieting, Jin Niang’s appetite had shrunk considerably. Even with such delicious dumplings, she only ate five or six.

Chen Xiaolang, however, was at an age where he was growing rapidly and devoured sixteen in one go—truly, a growing boy eats like a horse.

Upon entering the front hall, Jin Niang exchanged glances with A Ying and Chen Xiaolang before each went about their duties. A Ying first brought a charcoal brazier to Jin Niang, then carried over a small red-clay stove. She arranged sweets and snacks like lion-shaped candies, Sichuan milk sweets, apple spirals, peach rings, date jujubes, and pear slices in a tea cabinet.

Chen Xiaolang opened the door and stood outside to greet potential customers. At his age, he was still shy and couldn’t bring himself to call out. Jin Niang didn’t press him, simply instructing him to occasionally step out and ask passersby if they needed any needlework done.

“Xiaolang, go set off that string of firecrackers outside the door,” Jin Niang said.

The firecrackers popped like scattered sparks, but not a single customer came through the door even after an hour. Chen Xiaolang and A Ying grew restless, but Jin Niang just smiled. “You two restless ones, I’m working on a collar panel here. Don’t fret—this is how it always starts.”

Sweetwater Lane lay behind Embroidery Lane, surrounded by bead shops, silk stores, and tea houses. The people here were even wealthier than those frequenting the front lanes—otherwise, Jin Niang wouldn’t have spent a thousand guan on this plot of land.

With that, she called Chen Xiaolang back inside to warm up. “Don’t catch a cold. Go get a bed warmer from your sister A Ying.”

No sooner had she spoken than a maid dressed in teal satin entered. A Ying and Chen Xiaolang perked up, only to hear the maid say, “Second Young Miss, my mistress said she woke up dizzy today and couldn’t come in person. She sent me to deliver a gift instead.”

This maid belonged to Rong Niang, and Jin Niang knew full well that Rong Niang wouldn’t come. These women appeared calm and composed on the surface, enjoying others’ celebrations but disliking it when others might outshine them.

Rong Niang’s gift was a bolt of silk worth about five qian. Jin Niang instructed A Ying to put it away and tipped the maid a half-qian silver piece.

Next, Ying Niang’s husband, An Ping, arrived. “Second Sister,” he said, “Ying Niang asked me to deliver this. I have to deliver medicine to the eastern part of town now, so I’m afraid I won’t be able to stay and support your opening today.”

Ying Niang always followed Rong Niang’s lead—if Rong Niang didn’t come, she wouldn’t either, even if she wanted to. Her gift was two jars of tea.

“It’s fine. Our business here is built gradually. Go ahead with your work,” Jin Niang replied, speaking through the door.

After both visitors left, Jin Niang returned to embroidering the collar panel.

A Ying edged closer, wanting to speak, but remembering Jin Niang’s instructions, she sat quietly, peering eagerly. Even the flutter of a bird’s wings at the door made her stand up.

The sun rose higher, and the streets grew livelier.

Chen Xiaolang finally ushered in a lady, followed by two maids holding conical hats. She must have been a noblewoman, out specifically for a day of shopping.

Jin Niang rose gracefully. The lady took a step back upon seeing her—Jin Niang wore a cream-colored underrobe paired with a lilac pleated skirt, peony-embroidered at the hem, a pink velvet-trimmed satin coat, her hair in loop braids adorned with a gold comb and long flowing ribbons. For a moment, the lady felt as if she had stepped into a celestial palace.

Only when she saw Jin Niang’s shadow did she smile. “I just wanted to take a look.”

“What would you like to see?” Jin Niang asked.

Charmed by Jin Niang’s beauty and gentle tone, the lady warmed to her further. When A Ying served tea, she took a sip and noticed the brocade-covered daybed she sat on.

Jin Niang brought over a few embroidered pieces but didn’t hard-sell, simply letting the lady browse.

Too much enthusiasm could overwhelm a guest—this was just right.

The lady pointed to the throw pillows on the daybed. “I’d like to buy these. Would that be possible?”

"It took Jin Niang a great deal of effort to make these throw pillows, so they're naturally not for sale," Jin Niang replied, equal parts amused and exasperated. "But if you'd like one made, I can certainly craft it for you."

The woman felt a bit embarrassed but then stood up and noticed an embroidered tube top, her face lighting up with delight. The embroidery was truly exquisite—Hosta flowers stitched onto gardenia-yellow satin, a breath of fresh air.

"How much is this piece?"

"We clearly mark all our prices. This one is two hundred fifty coppers," Jin Niang said with a smile.

The woman immediately found it a bargain. Usually, in the embroidery district, something like this would cost at least three hundred coins, and the designs were often gaudy, sometimes even lacking floral patterns. So she paid without hesitation.

A Ying was stunned. No wonder her mistress wasn’t anxious—this was truly a case of feast or famine.

However, that was the only sale of the day. Both A Ying and Chen Xiaolang grew restless, but Jin Niang reassured them instead. Since it was the shop’s opening day, Jin Niang had specially asked Ju Xiang to prepare four courses of dishes and had Chen Xiaolang fetch a jug of wine. They cooked a pot of noodles, and everyone ate their fill.

After dinner, Jin Niang returned to her room to continue embroidering the collar panel, letting A Ying rest first. Starting a business required persistence above all—every successful shop was built through steady effort.

Thus, even when the second and third days brought in less than a hundred coins combined, Jin Niang remained focused on sketching patterns and sewing without pause. A Ying and Chen Xiaolang fretted in secret, wishing for better business. If their mistress couldn’t earn enough, the two of them might not be able to stay much longer.

Fortunately, on the fourth day, someone suddenly bought four pouches embroidered with plum, orchid, bamboo, and chrysanthemum, along with a pleated skirt and a tube top, totaling exactly one guan (a string of cash).

The two finally breathed a sigh of relief.

Just as they saw off this customer, another arrived with fabric to commission two sets of brocade garments. Jin Niang’s commission fee alone came to one string and eight hundred coins.

"Here’s your deposit receipt. You’ll need this to collect the order later—we go by the slip, not the face," Jin Niang said, sealing it with her stamp.

The slip listed the pickup date and items, and Jin Niang recorded it in her ledger for safekeeping.

Once the customer left, she immediately began cutting the fabric. Only someone with experience like hers could handle such precise work. The leftover scraps were set aside for edging trim later.

As she worked, a young woman entered the shop, her dimpled cheeks giving her a sweet smile. Jin Niang quickly greeted her warmly, "Fengying, you’re here!"

Qu Fengying was the heiress of a nearby silk shop, a shrewd businesswoman. Jin Niang sourced her fabrics from her shop, paying on credit every quarter based on usage.

She was also quite considerate—in fact, Jin Niang hadn’t even told her about the opening, yet Fengying had noticed and sent over a congratulatory flower basket on her own initiative.

For some reason, Jin Niang recalled the saying: *People rise to higher circles, like water seeking lower ground.* Though it sounded somewhat cynical, it held truth. Now that she owned a shop and a home, the people she interacted with were of a higher standing. Regardless of their true thoughts, at least they maintained appearances.

In short, everyone here was polished.

Fengying, however, harbored no such pretenses. Seeing Jin Niang’s kind face and knowing she had built her shop and home without family support, she felt a sense of camaraderie. Her own family had originally been from Jiangxi, having made their fortune in porcelain and amassed tens of thousands in wealth. But after her parents’ sudden deaths, she was raised by her grandparents, enduring relatives’ backstabbing and infighting to preserve a thousand acres of fertile land and this shop with ten thousand taels in capital.

"What are you working on now?" Fengying asked as she sat down, noticing Jin Niang already deep in her task.

Jin Niang smiled. "A brocade gown with wide sleeves—the collar will be embroidered with gold thread. See, they even brought the gold thread themselves."

Fengying asked, "How long will it take?"

"A day if I rush, two or three at a steady pace. My prices are the fairest around," Jin Niang shook her head.

But she always told customers ten days to account for unexpected delays. Running a business meant preparing for the unknown.

"A Ying, bring some tea."

If she had a more refined maid, Jin Niang wouldn’t have to personally show garments to customers, which wasted time. But hiring a skilled and moderately attractive female servant would cost at least twenty taels of silver.

A Ying soon brought the tea. Fengying took a few sips, and Jin Niang, sensing she had something to say, asked knowingly, "What’s the matter? You seem like you want to talk."

"It’s nothing much," Fengying dropped her gaze. "My family arranged a marriage for me. We met once, and I—" She hesitated, lowering her voice further.

Seeing Qu Fengying like this, Jin Niang said, “Not what you hoped for? That’s perfectly normal.”

“But I’m already twenty-one this year,” Qu Fengying sighed, resting her forehead in her hand.

Such private matters were hard to discuss with her grandparents, but she could confide in Jin Niang since they were around the same age and both unmarried.

True to form, Jin Niang replied, “Marriage is for life. If you’re not into them from the get-go, it’ll be tough to spend your whole life together.”

Given Qu Fengying’s status and wealth, it was only natural she’d want someone who truly suited her.

That resonated with Qu Fengying, who asked curiously, “Doesn’t it bother you?”

After all, Jin Niang was nearly twenty herself.

Jin Niang just shrugged. “My parents and brothers are very close to me, and I took to embroidery effortlessly. Honestly, I don’t have many regrets in life. You know what they say—when the cup’s full, it spills, and when the moon is full, it wanes. If my marriage doesn’t work out, it might actually be a blessing in disguise. Life’s full of letdowns—if everything were perfect, disaster might strike instead.”

She counted herself lucky just to have successfully lost weight this year and finished renovating her house.

Now that was an interesting way to look at it—too much perfection in life might not necessarily be a good thing.

Qu Fengying remarked, “Somehow, every time I talk to you, I feel much better afterward.”

“Drop by anytime,” Jin Niang teased.

Before the words had fully left her mouth, someone entered asking for an official robe. Jin Niang quickly said, “Official robes can only be resized—no custom orders. Civilians aren’t allowed to make them privately.”

No matter the trade, one had to understand the rules clearly. Cutting corners will get you in hot water.

Seeing Jin Niang’s caution, Qu Fengying suggested, “One of our regular customers at the silk shop recently mentioned wanting clothes made for the women in his household. Why not swing by my shop? If you can connect with him, you won’t lack for business.”

“Thank you for the kind thought, but I’m slammed at the moment,” Jin Niang replied. She wasn’t about to chain herself to one customer yet.

She was just starting out and needed to build her own repeat clients. If she worked exclusively for one household, she’d have to rush orders day and night just to meet deadlines, and the pay wouldn’t be much better than what she earned now.

Though Qu Fengying found her inflexible, she also felt a quiet relief. Mutual gain kept ties strong, but once trust was established, she knew Jin Niang would lend a hand if she ever fell on hard times.

You need all sorts of friends in life.

Jin Niang’s words only deepened Qu Fengying’s trust in her—there were no tangled interests between them.

Qu Fengying then brought up her family’s loan business: “There’s a lady who borrowed five hundred taels from us. She repaid previous loans, but this one’s still outstanding.”

“Have you sent someone to collect?” Jin Niang asked bluntly, her head bent over her embroidery.

Qu Fengying shook her head. “She’s connected to Grand Chancellor Zhaowen. We’ll have to let it go.”

In the capital, big shops all had official backing—otherwise, their businesses wouldn’t have grown so large. That was also why Jin Niang preferred steady progress over rapid expansion. Her aim was to pull in at least twenty-six strings of cash a month—six to repay loans, with the rest mostly saved. In a year, she could accumulate two to three hundred strings without even leaving home.

Since ancient times, commoners knew better than to challenge officials. After Qu Fengying left, Jin Niang glanced at the collar panel. This time, she planned to use raised embroidery, a technique she’d learned at the Embroidery Academy, using thread to build up a raised, 3D look.

Unlike Jin Niang’s cautious approach, Feng Sheng was in over his head. Dr. Zhao’s patient paid well and offered excellent conditions, but the illness was grueling—often keeping him out late into the night, even in the bitter cold of winter, with no time for basic needs.

Despite this, Feng Sheng managed to slip back home while Lin Geer was hiring a tutor. Unfortunately, Dr. Zhao reprimanded him for it, leaving him too wound up to even eat properly or relieve himself, to the point of physical discomfort.

Rong Niang tried to console him: “Why not let another physician take over? It’s almost New Year’s—you could use a break.”

Already irritated, Feng Sheng flared up at her words: “How can I rest? Every doctor at our clinic is the same! Fine, forget outsiders—just look at your own sisters. Your second sister runs her own shop, opening at dawn and stitching late into the night at the Embroidery Shop, afraid someone might need mending. Your third sister sold medicine even while heavily pregnant, scraping calluses and delivering tonics to please noblewomen. If you were more capable, would I have to suffer like this?”

Fighting brought out the ugly. Tears welled in Rong Niang’s eyes as she pointed at him. “I never knew you saw me this way! I warned you not to get such a huge place, but you insisted. Now we’re repaying over thirty strings a month, barely able to afford anything else—and it’s all my fault?”

"Oh, why stay silent when you were benefiting too?" Feng Sheng felt utterly exhausted.

Rong Niang flounced out in a huff. She had initially planned to go to Ying Niang's place, as they were quite close, but remembering that Ying Niang lived with her in-laws and other outsiders, she decided to visit Jin Niang instead. After all, Jin Niang operated her shop solo, and her uncle and aunt weren’t strangers.

When she arrived, Jin Niang had just finished a set of brocade garments and taken another order—a robe with peony medallion patterns, requiring embroidery on the chest and shoulders. The payment was set at *3 guan*, to be completed in ten days.

After handing the order to someone else, Jin Niang noticed Rong Niang’s arrival, her hair slightly disheveled, and asked, "Big Sister, what brings you here? A Ying, serve some tea."

Rong Niang didn’t dare to tell the truth and made up an excuse: "I just came to see how your business is doing."

"Barely getting by. Come in and sit, Sister. It’s warmer inside with the charcoal brazier," Jin Niang invited her in.

Rong Niang had expected Jin Niang to press her with questions, but Jin Niang didn’t even look up, busy with her own work. She had a maid and a young assistant here, both lazier than the boss himself.

"Why not hire a skilled maidservant? It would ease your burden."

Jin Niang covered her mouth and laughed. "Sister, do you think I don’t know that? A halfway decent maidservant costs over 20 guan, and one with exceptional needlework skills is even pricier."

It’s not like I chose to skip Tsinghua.

What she needed was someone to handle the grunt work, freeing her to focus on embroidery without worries.

Rong Niang got the point but bristled at her tone, feeling mocked for her ignorance of the market. She thought of the ladies she usually socialized with—women like her, relying on their husbands to command servants, traveling by sedan chairs or carriages, living the high life but powerless over their men.

Some even confided in her: "See how my husband’s been dressing up lately? He’s definitely got his eye on some floozy. Honestly, I just hope his affairs keep him in a good mood—then he feels guilty and treats me better."

In such moments, Rong Niang even felt a sense of superiority, because Feng Sheng kept to himself, was ambitious, and never looked down on her family.

But she never expected to be seen as useless.

Just as she was about to speak, Chen Xiaolang entered and announced, "Madam, the owner of the pearl shop, Master Cheng, has sent a jar of *Yuxu* wine from *Huixian Tower*, two roast ducks, two chickens, a basket of fresh fish, a trotter, and ten boxes of osmanthus cakes."

Jin Niang replied, "Record them in the gift ledger, then prepare a jar of *Biguang* wine from *Shilou*, two boxes of delicate pastries, and send over lotus roots, lotus seeds, water chestnuts, taro, fox nuts, water caltrops, arrowheads, and lilies—one of each."

Chen Xiaolang scribbled furiously with a chicken-feather brush before rushing out to make the purchases.

Watching Jin Niang recite the list off the top of her head, Rong Niang couldn’t help but ask, "Why is Master Cheng sending you gifts?"

"Oh, I had a customer looking for pearls, and since Master Cheng is decent and his pearls are of good quality, I referred them to him. Sometimes when customers want pearls sewn onto their collar panels, I direct them there. He’s quite generous," Jin Niang explained with a smile.

Rong Niang nodded and cautiously probed further about Jin Niang’s business: "Do you earn around 200 guan a year like this?"

Jin Niang laughed. "Roughly. But business ebbs and flows."

Rong Niang’s mind went blank. Feng Sheng now earned about 50 guan a month, but with over 30 guan going to repay loans, and expenses for the children, servants, and himself, scraps were left. Meanwhile, Jin Niang’s monthly income was only half of Feng Sheng’s, but her debts were minimal, her staff few, and her workload lighter—running her own shop was clearly better.

"Don’t you find it exhausting?" Rong Niang asked, watching Jin Niang’s hands never stop moving.

Jin Niang pondered. "Tiring? Sure. But worth every stitch. Embroidery gave me everything I have now. Besides, my hard work pays off."

Yes, others worked hard because they earned their own keep. But no matter how much she toiled, she gained nothing. Her husband resented her incompetence, and even the children, though she sacrificed the most for them, revered their father.

What’s the damn point?

She bolted up and marched out. Jin Niang was splitting threads and only noticed Rong Niang’s absence when she looked up. Asking A Ying, she learned Rong Niang had gone home. Jin Niang let it go.

Whether Rong Niang had domestic troubles or not, it was best not to meddle in others’ family affairs—no need to play the busybody.

After a light meal and tea, Jin Niang prepared for a short nap. Unexpectedly, a customer walked in. Taking in the visitor’s sharp cheekbones, triangular eyes, and furrowed brow—clearly trouble walking in—Jin Niang hurried out to greet them.

"Is this all the embroidery you have here?" The woman curled her lip and flipped through the items with a sneer.

Jin Niang smiled. "This is an embroidery shop, not a clothing store. What kind of embroidery did you have in mind?"

Some customers were genuine, while others just came to stir up trouble—those weren't real buyers, and it was best not to waste words on them.

"I'm just looking," the woman said, catching the steel beneath Jin Niang’s polite tone, and grew slightly timid.

Jin Niang replied, "Very well, let me know if you need anything." With that, she stayed put, settling behind the counter.

The woman glanced left and right, nitpicking everything—complaining about ugly color combinations, outdated designs, even poor fabric quality. At one point, she even lifted a tube top with two fingers and sneered, "How indecent—embroidering something like this! I should tell everyone what kind of trash you sell here!"

At this point, there was no need to even show her the pattern book. Jin Niang’s pattern book was her trump card—the last noblewoman who commissioned peony embroidery had placed her order on the spot after flipping through it.

The woman raised her voice, only to find Jin Niang lowering her head, while A Ying and Chen Xiaolang silently remembered Rule Three of the Embroidery Shop’s code: If no other customers were present and someone was causing trouble, they were to be ignored.

Seeing that no one paid her any attention, the woman spat out a few curses before stomping off in a huff.

The moment she left, A Ying couldn’t hold back. "I nearly lost it and cursed her out! Every shop sells tube tops—what’s the big deal?"

"People like that are rabid—no use engaging. In our shop, you’d be hard-pressed to find one troublemaker in ten," Jin Niang said calmly.

But no sooner had the madwoman left than the Guild Master from Embroidery Lane arrived, claiming someone had reported Jin Niang for selling obscene items. Jin Niang, knowing full well someone was sabotaging her, put on a show of outrage. "This is downright slander! I used to work at the Embroidery Academy—look, here’s my old badge. I was even an Embroidery Chief—how could I not know the rules?"

The Guild Master inspected her embroidery and, impressed by the exquisite craftsmanship, guessed, "It must have been a rival who reported you. Don’t worry, there’s no issue here."

Jin Niang sighed in relief. "With your judgment, I’m at ease. This house and shop are mine—I have all the deeds and contracts in order."

"Don’t take it to heart," the Guild Master said sympathetically. This trade always had people who, instead of improving their own work, resented others’ success.

Plenty of gifted young embroiderers had been run out of the trade like this.

Jin Niang then had A Ying fetch two boxes of osmanthus cakes—gifts from Manager Cheng—and presented them to the Guild Master. "I’ll count on your support going forward."

After the Guild Master left, Chen Xiaolang asked, "Will they keep causing trouble?"

"Whether they do or not, I won’t stop. I didn’t grow up to be pushed around," Jin Niang declared, unyielding.

A Ying admired her deeply. Most women, after being insulted and falsely accused, would feel miserable—some might even want to shut down the shop. But her mistress acted as if nothing had happened. Even after being reported to the Guild Master, she showed no fear. That kind of grit was hard to come by.