Chapter 80

Chapter 80

The streets of the capital, which had been boiling over with noise just days before, were now like a ghost town. Naturally, there was no need to open the shop, and Jin Niang took the opportunity to sleep late.

When the sun was well up, A Ying brought breakfast—a bowl of millet porridge, two pieces of layered pancake, and an egg. Sitting on the bed, Jin Niang placed her meal on the bedside table and finished eating before getting up.

A Ying smiled. "Would you like to rise now? I’ll help you get ready."

"Alright. It’s been a while since I’ve rested like this," Jin Niang replied, stretching lazily.

Soon after, A Ying brought over her clothes and helped Jin Niang dress, then assisted her with washing up. Since there was no need to go out to the shop, she skipped applying face powder and simply twisted her hair into a bun, wrapping it with a headscarf.

Min Zhi brought Yun Jieer in, and Luo Mama chuckled, "The little miss has been wanting to come for a while, but I thought you might appreciate the extra sleep, so I played with her first."

Originally, the wet nurse had been contracted for two years, but when panic was spreading, Jin Niang considered that only two months remained. It wouldn’t be right to keep her trapped here during the plague, separated from her own children. The wet nurse was reluctant to leave, but Luo Yu’e revealed that her husband wasn't actually dead—he had lied about his death to secure the job, and everyone had kept quiet out of pity. Upon hearing this, the wet nurse knelt down and kowtowed, admitting her deception.

Jin Niang didn’t blame her, giving her twenty catties of rice and flour, a packet of medicine, and letting her pack her belongings before leaving.

At first, the child cried for two days while weaning off breastmilk, but now she had settled back to normal.

Jin Niang held the child and taught her to read, but young children have little patience. After a short while, the girl wanted to go play. Jin Niang let Min Zhi take her away while she lay on the daybed reading, soon dozing off again.

Winter days grew dark quickly. Dinner was shared with her husband in the study. After eating, Jin Niang stood for a while before settling back on the daybed in Jiang Xian’s study with a book.

Jiang Xian couldn’t help but laugh. "Madam is truly foresighted, buying so many candles. Now I don’t have to worry."

"I wonder how the family at the old residence is doing," Jin Niang said.

Jiang Xian shook his head. "That’s beyond our control."

Since Zheng Shi married Sixth Uncle Jiang over a year ago, the couple had lived quite happily. Though Jiang Xian didn’t show it, he privately resented Zheng Shi for taking his mother’s place and dismissing servants like Fang Ma, who had served during his mother’s time. Thus, his opinion of her remained indifferent.

Now, Sixth Uncle Jiang and Zheng Shi spent money as if there were no tomorrow.

Xu Shi was full of complaints, guarding their finances even more tightly, and her relationship with Zheng Shi had become as hostile as fire and water.

"At least I didn’t buy any New Year's gifts this year, or they’d all be wasted at home now," Jin Niang remarked, feeling she had saved about twenty strings of cash.

With New Year supplies already stocked, starvation was unlikely. Jin Niang believed the plague wouldn’t last long.

In truth, life was hard for many. Zhuangyuan Jiang’s family fared better—Song Niangzi, well-informed, had moved them to an isolated estate early on, safe from infection.

The powerful always had their channels, receiving the latest news and fleeing far in advance.

But for those without savings or plans, like Peng Sanlang’s family, survival was a struggle. After a xun (traditional ten-day week), their food ran out. Even Sixth Uncle Jiang and Zheng Shi, usually extravagant, now practiced extreme frugality. Zheng Shi had some tricks up her sleeve—a chicken that once lasted a day now stretched over ten: the head for one day, wings for two, meat for three, feet for two, and fish for three days before turning to fish jelly (a gelatinous dish made from boiled fish).

The masters at least didn’t starve, but the servants fought over pickled vegetables.

After a month, even pickles became a luxury.

Today, Jin Niang’s household had fish balls, steamed egg custard, and stir-fried preserved pork with pickled cabbage. The servants, though not eating as well, each received a bowl of rice, a spoonful of pickled vegetables, and a piece of meat.

"Have Ju Xiang make white radish soup for everyone—it reduces internal heat and aids digestion."

Lately, Jin Niang had the kitchen prepare soups regularly—not just pear soup, radish soup, or mung bean soup—but even diluted honey water from her stored supply, as these were all cooling and detoxifying.

After eating, with no work to do, everyone rested in their rooms. Even Yang Geer, once thin as a rake, had filled out a bit.

Just then, A Ying entered. "Madam, our neighbor is at the gate asking to borrow some food."

Jiang Xian’s lips parted, but no words came out. Of course he didn’t want to lend—the plague had already been spreading for a month now, and if they gave to one household, others would follow, leaving their own family at risk of starvation.

But his wife had always been kind-hearted...

As he hesitated, Jin Niang quickly said, “Just tell them through the door that our food is running low too.”

She was naturally decisive. In times like these, family comes first. She saw nothing wrong with her approach.

Jiang Xian finally relaxed.

After resting for a month, Jin Niang noticed that her monthly cycle hadn’t come. Being no stranger to this, she had a good idea what was happening and let the family know. Jiang Xian felt both joy and concern. Jin Niang seized the chance to tease, “If you stay with me more, I’ll be just fine.”

“Of course I’ll stay with you,” Jiang Xian couldn’t help but kiss her forehead.

When Luo Yume heard that Jin Niang was pregnant, she couldn’t help thinking about how small her daughter’s home already was—her family of three took up two rooms. She planned to look for a new place once the epidemic ended.

But Jin Niang had other plans. “Mother, even if this child is born, it won’t be until around August or September. Upstairs we have three rooms, and we can partition off another from the main hall. By August, your son-in-law will take the Provincial Exam. If he advances to the imperial examinations, as the saying goes, ‘All ministers begin as local officials, and fierce generals emerge from the ranks’—he’ll surely be assigned elsewhere. You can stay here and keep an eye on things. If he doesn’t pass, the lease on our mortgaged house will expire by next year’s end. If the owner doesn’t redeem it, it becomes ours. You can spend twenty or thirty strings of cash to renovate it before moving in—it won’t be too late.”

“But this house was part of your dowry—it belongs to you,” Luo Yume refused.

Jin Niang smiled. “Don’t worry about me. I’ve already paid off the loan for the Sweetwater Lane house and still have some cash saved up. Or if you don’t want to live in Stinkwater Lane anymore, we can rent a nice place through the Property Office and keep Stinkwater Lane rented out for extra income. When Yang Ge is older and ready to marry, we can sell the Stinkwater Lane house and use that money, plus your savings, to buy a single-courtyard house. He can repay the loan himself and still live in a new home.”

Truthfully, she’d never wanted the dowry property—it had only been for her parents’ pride back then. Now that she had a plan, she laid it all out clearly.

She even considered lending her brother money if he needed help buying a house in the future, though she couldn’t mention that yet.

First, no one knew what her own situation might be by then. Second, she knew her parents too well—if they got any ideas, they’d grow complacent.

Her father never thought things through—he even accepted fake money without checking. Her mother was slightly better, but prone to rash decisions. That’s why she’d kept them under her wing, fearing they’d get into trouble.

But after marriage, she had her own family to care for—she could only do so much. Her parents and brother had their own lives to live; she couldn’t meddle endlessly.

These words were clearly well-considered, and Luo Yume found them reasonable.

Jin Niang pulled her aside. “Mother, you mustn’t let the servants catch wind that you’re planning to move.”

“Why not?” Luo Yume asked.

Jin Niang chuckled. “Out of sight, out of mind. If they know, they’ll slack off.”

Luo Yume said, “Surely not. They seem quite honest.”

Jin Niang shook her head. “They toe the line because I enforce it. Everyone has their own motives. Even if they don’t suck up to bosses and kick down, once they see you as temporary, they’ll lose motivation.”

This shocked Luo Yume into realizing that her daughter trusted no one completely. Without the master-servant distinction, one might think she acted chummy with the servants.

Jin Niang even advised her not to say too much to her father—just play it by ear.

“Jin Niang, our family would fall apart without you,” Luo Yume said, feeling her daughter was the glue holding them together.

Jin Niang smiled. “Mother, you’ve mellowed so much—you’re much calmer than before. As for my brother, I’ve discussed it with your son-in-law. If he passes the exam, he’ll get him into a top school.”

Luo Yume was overjoyed.

Jin Niang lowered her voice. “But don’t tell Yang Ge yet, or he’ll lose motivation. We still have to rely on ourselves.”

“You’re right. Yang Ge told me his brother-in-law teaches him better than his tutor.” Luo Yume, seeing her daughter settled and well-married, now focused her worries entirely on her son, who had not yet turned fifteen.

The mother and daughter whispered a few last things before parting.

The plague persisted for nearly two months before life returned to normal. Jiang Xian had spent those two months studying at home, oblivious to the outside world. Only after stepping out did he learn that a scholar who once studied with him at Chancellor Liu’s residence had passed away.

Another acquaintance, Xiao Hanlin, whom he had met through Jin Niang’s clothing business, had also succumbed to the illness. Others had died from different ailments, unable to seek medical care while confined at home.

Jin Niang was extremely cautious, putting off reopening her shop by a month. She feared that some customers might still carry the disease, and now that she was pregnant, she had to take every precaution.

Even Yun Jieer was forbidden from meeting outsiders. If her parents went out for business, they had to wash their hands and change clothes before being allowed to see their granddaughter.

Coincidentally, the first customer after reopening was Madam White, who had returned to the capital with her brother and sister-in-law for official duties. She had noticeably gained weight since their last meeting. Through conversation, Jin Niang learned that Madam White had given birth to two sons and was now expecting another. Jin Niang promptly recommended, “We have a fine selection of children’s clothing here. Would Madam White like to take a look?”

“How much do they cost?” Madam White asked with a smile.

Jin Niang quickly introduced the options: “This red satin set with embroidered floral clusters is a bit pricier, around two guan (a unit of currency). The lake-blue set with spray-of-flowers embroidery costs about one guan and three qian.”

This time, Madam White was surprisingly generous, purchasing two sets of children’s clothing and a new outfit for herself, handing over five guan without batting an eye. After placing the money in the cashbox, Jin Niang suddenly craved strawberries and had Chen Xiaolang scramble to get a small basket for her. She dared not eat too many herself, setting aside only a small portion on a gilded porcelain plate and sending the rest to Jiang Xian, her parents, and Yun Jieer.

Being her own boss had its perks—she could do as she pleased and eat whatever she desired.

Chen Xiaolang complained, “Madam, you wouldn’t believe how fiercely I had to scramble for this basket of strawberries. Everyone was buying like mad, no matter the price.”

After being cooped up for so long, people were desperate to indulge,” Jin Niang mused, realizing this was an excellent opportunity for her clothing business.

Following the plague, customers might become more practical, shunning overly expensive garments. Instead, she decided to focus on good-value but fashionable outfits, using moderately priced fabrics but ensuring appealing designs.

With this shift in strategy, Jin Niang no longer needed to source fabrics near Donghua Gate or stock as much gold and silver leaf.

However, pregnancy made many tasks inconvenient and sapped her energy. Even the prestigious position of Head of the Guild, which she had worked so hard to attain, had to be relinquished after just a year.

At times, Jin Niang felt that women were no less capable than men—perhaps even more so—but men never had to endure the burdens of pregnancy.

Frustrated, she gently touched her belly. Since ancient times, one couldn’t have both fish and bear’s paw* (*footnote: equivalent to “you can’t have your cake and eat it too”). Managing her shop alone was exhausting enough, let alone overseeing a guild.

Luo Yue, however, was delighted. “You’re older than your husband. If he passes the imperial exams, even if he doesn’t suggest it himself, others will push concubines on him, citing your lack of a son. Besides, with such a family enterprise, do you really want outsiders benefiting? It’s better to have a son.”

“We could leave it to Yun Jieer,” Jin Niang replied, though she knew the child’s gender wasn’t up to her.

Luo Yue shook her head. “Your relationship with her uncle’s family is strained, and Xu Shi had you evicted from Nanxun Lane. You can’t rely on the clan. Even if you give Yun Jieer a younger brother, he’ll still be her support.”

“Let me tell you, inheritance-grabbing from heirless families isn’t just a rural practice. Wherever there’s wealth and no son, people won’t hesitate to exploit it. Yes, the law allows daughters to inherit, but lawsuits are uphill battles.”

She spoke from experience—why had her sister-in-law and mother-in-law seized their house and land back then? Because after giving birth to Jin Niang, she had no son, leaving them defenseless.

Understanding her mother’s concern, Jin Niang smiled. “I know. But if this child is another girl, don’t be upset.”

“Of course not!” Luo Yue assured her.

All of Yun Jieer’s swaddling blankets and infant garments had been carefully preserved. Jin Niang had the servants wash and prepare them for the new baby to avoid waste. Yun Jieer’s old clothes were still in excellent condition, though she had outgrown them quickly.

With no need to make new clothes for the baby, everyone focused on spring outfits. Min Zhi, now earning the same wages as Zhu Xiuniang, continued specializing in children’s wear.

The months of confinement had led to many pregnancies, boosting business for pharmacies and clinics. Even the neighboring tavern and general store had converted into medicine shops.

Ahead of the Cold Food Festival, Jin Niang’s team produced a batch of spring outfits: cherry-pink *moxiong* (traditional undergarment), pink *beizi* (long outer jacket) embroidered with spray-of-flowers, and crimson-trimmed sets. Others included butter-yellow tunics, willow-green moxiong, and cream-colored pleated skirts, along with her signature peach-blossom patterned sets.

Each set cost less than one guan, with discounted sets for just eight qian.

A sign out front advertised them as the “Top Pick for Spring Excursions.”

Before the Cold Food Festival, many people sent gifts of children’s clothes and light garments.

As a result, this month's income reached a hefty fifty-six guan. It was remarkable, considering that the clothes were sold at much lower prices than before.

Yun Jieer was now over two years old, so Jin Niang assigned Xi Qiu to take care of her. Luo Mama, after all, was getting older—her snoring at night had become severe, and she slept too soundly. Luo Mama’s son’s wife was then transferred to work in the kitchen, which worked out perfectly for everyone.

Every noon, Jin Niang would take an afternoon rest with Yun Jieer, then bring her daughter to Jiang Xian’s study. In one corner of the study, she had placed children’s picture books, and she would spend half an hour each day reading with her before heading to the Embroidery Shop.

Sometimes Jiang Xian would be studying, other times reclining on the daybed, watching the mother and daughter. Occasionally, he would reach out and ask Jin Niang to hold his hand.

“At night, don’t trouble yourself over me,” he said. “You’re not sleeping well as it is.” This pregnancy had left Jin Niang restless at night, and whenever she couldn’t sleep, she wanted to eat.

No matter what she wanted to eat, Jiang Xian would make it for her. Sometimes, by the time he brought it, she’d lost her appetite, but he never showed irritation—only concern.

“You’re going through so much,” Jiang Xian sighed softly.

Jin Niang rubbed her belly. “At least we’re halfway through. Enough of this talk—I was managing fine until you all started reminding me how hard it is.”

Jiang Xian chuckled. That was his wife’s temperament—always strong and never whining, tougher than any man.

These days, he had grown accustomed to studying at home. What he once found difficult to understand, he now read carefully again and again, gaining new insights. Of course, he still visited the Liu family—without someone to spread your name, you remained a small fish.

“My dear, I’ll be going to the Liu residence this afternoon,” Jiang Xian said.

Jin Niang nodded and asked if he needed to bring anything. Jiang Xian hesitated. “Chancellor Liu shares my passion for calligraphy, so I thought of presenting him with an inkstone.”

But it was rather expensive...

Jin Niang waved it off. “Here are the keys—fetch it from the chest.”

“But that Duan inkstone costs twenty guan,” Jiang Xian said.

Jin Niang replied calmly, “I’ve heard that Duan inkstones grind ink swiftly and spread it smoothly, retain moisture without drying, remain cool without freezing, and do not clog. Such fine ink deserves to be gifted to Chancellor Liu.”

Jiang Xian was at a loss for words. Even his mother would have called this extravagant, yet his wife, usually frugal, was uncharacteristically generous toward him.

Jin Niang, however, remembered the tale of Chen Zi’ang smashing a priceless lute to gain fame. Twenty guan to bolster her husband’s reputation was far better than wasting money on endless banquets and poetry gatherings.

After sending the inkstone, Chancellor Liu, who already admired Jiang Xian’s talent, grew even fonder of him. One of Liu’s disciples—a leading literary figure after Academician Huang and one of the *Four Gentlemen of Liu*—remarked on Jiang Xian’s extraordinary bearing, declaring him destined for high office. With such endorsement, Jiang Xian’s reputation soared overnight.

Soon, scholars sought him out at home to discuss classical texts.

This fame quickly reached Zhuangyuan Jiang. His wife, Lady Song, served him tea and remarked, “See? He found your patronage too slow and turned elsewhere.”

Women often held moral standards in high regard, sometimes to the point of fastidiousness.

But Zhuangyuan Jiang realized, “No—now that he’s gained fame, winning him over later will be difficult.”

After all, capable people were needed to get things done. Integrity alone meant little without competence. Jiang Xian had proven his worth during his brief stint at the Ministry of Revenue, wrapping up affairs in just days.

He could curry favor with superiors while managing subordinates effectively.

Hearing this, Lady Song suggested, “Many scholars submit their works at my father’s gate. Why not help boost his reputation? Then we’d be his patrons.”

“Let’s not think of it as calculating kindness. Men like him aren’t swayed by mere generosity,” Zhuangyuan Jiang saw clearly.

Truthfully, Jiang Xian felt the same. Chancellor Liu favored him for his literary talent, not out of charity. Hadn’t he been driven away without hesitation before?

Thus, even after his sudden fame, Jiang Xian remained at home, keeping to his studies, undisturbed.

After her midday meal, Jin Niang yawned. With the Dragon Boat Festival just around the corner, she had to rush to make a new batch of clothes. Though she couldn't sit too long, she couldn’t afford to be idle each day.

"Shiliulang, do you have time this afternoon to buy some grapes, oranges, and strawberries for me?" she asked.

Jiang Xian smiled and replied, "Of course, my dear. Should I grab some bananas too?"

Bananas could help relieve Jin Niang’s frequent leg cramps, so she nodded immediately.

But before he could leave, news arrived that Zhuangyuan Jiang had sent an invitation, inviting him to a gathering at the Song household. Jin Niang couldn’t help but feel happy for her husband. “How wonderful!”

Jiang Xian, however, remarked, "They used to think I wasn’t good enough. I always said Sun Shichen was useless, and now they suddenly remember me."

Jin Niang chuckled. "By putting in a word for you with the Songs, he’s helping your name get out there. Just bring your sharpest essays—it’s our gain either way."

"No rush. I’ll buy the fruits for you first," Jiang Xian said.

Jin Niang figured Jiang Xian thought like a modern freelancer—whoever offered better treatment, he’d go to them. Unlike some who, once helped, remained loyally grateful, he simply believed his own talent was the reason others sought him out.

He didn’t fall for empty promises either. Whoever paid more got his loyalty—pure self-interest.

Naturally, Jiang Xian was also very tactful, never mocking others and even showing considerable warmth.

True to form, Jiang Xian knocked it out of the park at the Songs’, much to Jin Niang’s delight.

Meanwhile, when Zhousi Guniang heard the news from Sun Shichen, she wondered why she hadn’t done more to promote her own husband’s reputation, given how close she was with Madam Song.

Jin Niang, on the other hand, thought to herself: *You’ve gotta stand on your own two feet.* Though some scoffed at this idea, those without real ability would face backlash even if forcefully elevated.

Her husband had finally listened—case in point, there he was, burning the midnight oil in his study.