Xie Shiyiniang stepped curiously into the embroidery room.
The early summer warmth filled the space, where clean windows and tidy tables were framed by rolled-up reed blinds of varying heights. Embroidery frames stood in neat rows, surrounded by busy seamstresses, piles of fabric, bundles of threads, scissors, needle cases, and baskets of scraps at their feet.
The soft rustle of needles filled the air as everyone worked diligently—except for the family’s senior seamstress, who had been summoned by Xie Qi. The two stood before a garment rack, seemingly deep in discussion.
The polished stone floor muffled Xie Shiyiniang’s steps as she approached, allowing her to overhear her elder brother lightly tracing the waistline of a gown, his ears faintly red as he murmured, "Perhaps it needs to be taken in another two inches..."
Clutching her plump silk doll, Shiyiniang belatedly realized: this gown was long and narrow, clearly not meant for her. Yet among the Xie family’s daughters, she was the tallest—despite being the eleventh in line, only eight girls across the three branches had grown to adulthood.
Apart from Shiniang, who was a few months older, her other sisters had long since married.
Shierniang from the second branch was a year younger, and Shisanniang from the third branch two years younger—even Shiniang was much shorter than her. So the gown couldn’t be for them either. Shiyiniang had no sister-in-law, and it was unthinkable for a nephew or younger uncle to suddenly commission clothes for an aunt or cousin’s wife. If Ninth Brother dared, their mother would surely thrash him forty-nine times over.
Hiding behind a pillar, Shiyiniang peeked out, narrowing her eyes in scrutiny.
A young seamstress nearby, threading a needle, glanced up in confusion, but Shiyiniang shushed her with a finger to her lips. The girl stifled a laugh and returned to her embroidery.
The seamstress thought to herself: among the many young ladies of the household, most were demure—only Shiyiniang was mischievous and gluttonous. While others might adjust their clothes once a year, Shiyiniang had already let out her waistline twice in recent months. Rumor had it she’d even conspired with a servant to sneak in roasted fish through the back gate, feasting under the pavilion at night and digging up the old madam’s years-old cherry wine to share with her father. They’d been caught red-handed, earning a scolding and a few whacks from the old madam’s cane.
Now, she was probably scheming to tease Ninth Brother again.
Unaware of the silent judgment, Shiyiniang studied the gown from her hiding spot before suddenly having an epiphany. She stroked her chin knowingly.
The fabric didn’t resemble cicada-wing gauze or sheer silk—it looked more like six-ounce gauze or lattice weave. Though not the most luxurious, it was dyed a refreshing shade of tender green, with delicate silver embroidery that shimmered like rippling water under sunlight, evoking the serene beauty of lotus blossoms adrift on a pond.
She understood now—this must be a gift for Cui Family Eldest Cousin! The Cui family would attend tomorrow’s banquet, and her aunt was bringing several cousins, likely already nearing the city outskirts.
Early that morning, her mother had sent Zheng Neizhi with carriages to await them outside the city.
Though her mother hadn’t said it outright, if Cui Family Sister came, perhaps she and Xie Qi could rekindle their past bond! Shiyiniang thought optimistically. If asked who she’d most want as a sister-in-law, she’d still choose Cui Family Sister.
She’d always liked her. As a child visiting Chenzhou, Cui Family Sister had taken her horseback riding and rabbit hunting in the mountain estates, even gifting her a short-legged pony with snow-white hooves. But after bringing it to the capital, the poor creature fell ill with "glanders" and died. She’d never had another pony since.
When news came that Cui Family Sister had fallen ill and had to break off her engagement with Xie Qi, Shiyiniang had been heartbroken. She’d written letters and begged her mother to gather medicines, sending them to Chenzhou with a servant. She never received a reply—perhaps her cousin had been too weak to write. But after all this time, she hoped Cui Family Sister had recovered. How wonderful it would be to see her tomorrow!
Shiyiniang didn’t know if Xie Qi still cherished Cui Family Sister. The calligraphy and paintings hung in Madam Shen’s shop had surprised her... but such gifts were trivial. If she were Xie Qi, she’d have been tempted to inscribe something for Madam Shen too, given her exquisite craftsmanship.
Before the broken engagement, Xie Qi had always prioritized Cui Family Sister—never visiting pleasure quarters for music or poetry, ignoring flirtatious maids, even brushing off Feng Qiniang.
Back then, the Xie-Cui marriage had seemed inevitable. Shiyiniang hadn’t known how to console Feng Qiniang, her own life already a muddle. But... come to think of it, Feng Qiniang hadn’t visited in ages. What could she be busy with?
If she came tomorrow, Shiyiniang would grill her properly!
"We’ll take in the waist further. Ninth Brother, wait a moment—it’ll be ready in fifteen minutes..." The senior seamstress’s voice snapped Shiyiniang from her thoughts. Startled, she retreated behind the pillar, tiptoed away with her doll, and slipped out unnoticed.
She’d return later to tailor the doll’s clothes. For now, satisfied with uncovering Ninth Brother’s secret, she began plotting how to extort her elder brother.
Meng San led his family’s stubborn donkey—which refused to carry riders or cargo—while his page boy shouldered two baskets of books. The pair traversed the long street to return the volumes to the Xie residence.
With centuries of heritage, the Xie family’s library was vast, rivaled perhaps only by the Fengs’. Meng San often borrowed books by the basketful, returning them after reading or copying.
But today’s visit wasn’t his idea—Xie Qi had summoned him with a note, demanding the books back.
Meng San found it odd. They’d just returned from the academy for break—why the sudden diligence? Couldn’t a man relax? As the perennial second-ranked scholar behind Xie Qi, some jesters even called him "Meng Second" instead of "Meng San."
Infuriating!
And this donkey! Nearly the death of him. His father had bought the beast, which adored cabbage cores but shirked all labor, bucking and braying if anyone dared mount it.
Now unsellable, they were stuck pampering the creature.
Entering the Xie estate, Meng San was enveloped by towering shade. While the Fengs favored bamboo, the Xies loved pines and cypresses, their courtyards lush with emerald canopies. Wiping sweat with his sleeve, Meng San exhaled in relief.
The donkey was tied at the side gate, where a Xie gatekeeper fed it beans. Meng San almost warned against overfeeding—the beast’s flatulence could fell a man!
But before he could speak, Yan Shu, sent by Xie Qi to fetch him, dragged him inside without ceremony.
He and his page shouldered the books and hurried straight to Xie Qi's courtyard. Yan Shu dashed ahead like he was riding a wind-and-fire wheel. As soon as he rushed in, he spotted a tall cherry tree standing lush and verdant in the corner of the courtyard. Beneath it was a stone table where Xie Qi had already prepared chilled drinks and was waiting. Meng San, his throat parched from the rush, plopped down onto the seat. The coolness of the stone table seeped into his skin, instantly dispelling the summer heat, and he let out a long, contented sigh.
"What's the rush? Did someone set your pants on fire? You've run me ragged!" Meng San fanned himself with his sleeve, slouching lazily against the stone table, his tone equally indolent. "The books are here. Do you want to check if any are missing? Why the urgency? Don’t tell me you’re studying even during your break..."
"Actually, calling you to return the books was secondary." Xie Qi motioned for Yan Shu to bring over a large, neatly folded brocade bundle. "There’s something I’d like to ask of you."
"What is it? And why all the secrecy?" Meng San yawned, not bothering with formalities as he reached for a bowl of hawthorn-flavored shaved ice and began slurping noisily.
"It’s nothing major. I just wanted to trouble you to make a trip to Willow East Lane later and deliver this bundle of clothes to Shen’s Noodle Shop." Xie Qi pushed the bundle toward him. "Just hand it to Madam Shen."
Meng San paused mid-slurp, squinting before his face slowly broke into a mischievous grin. He pointed his little silver spoon at Xie Qi. "You still claim you don’t like widows! Look at this—caught red-handed!"
After a moment, realization dawned on him, and he frowned thoughtfully. "Your family has hundreds of servants. Why send an outsider like me? Ah... I get it. You’re afraid she might refuse it if it came from your household, aren’t you?"
Xie Qi remained unruffled, letting Meng San tease him without a flicker of embarrassment. He prided himself on acting with integrity and never saw the need for concealment. The reason he asked Meng San to deliver it was to protect Madam Shen’s reputation.
If Xie Family servants were sent, the entire banquet tomorrow would be abuzz with gossip. He didn’t want Madam Shen subjected to unnecessary scrutiny. Preparing clothes for her was also out of consideration—Madam Shen wasn’t one to fuss over appearances. She was resilient, indifferent to material things, but Xie Qi knew the extravagant tastes of noble families all too well.
This banquet wasn’t being held at the Xie family’s main residence but at their private estate, "Spring Manor," nestled in the outskirts, far from the city’s bustle and famed for its lakes and mountains. He had invited Madam Shen in good faith, hoping she could enjoy herself without discomfort. If she felt out of place, it would be his fault.
So, he hadn’t just prepared clothes for Madam Shen—he had also arranged outfits for Sister Xiang, Ji Brother, and even Chen Chuan. This way, she could relax without drawing unwanted attention.
Meng San had been grinning slyly at Xie Qi, but when Xie Qi met his gaze—clear and unflinching—his teasing expression gradually faded. He turned away, slumping back onto the stone table, arms folded behind his head as he stared at the drifting clouds above and sighed. "Fine, I’ll run this errand for you. Who’d have thought you’d fall for a widow too? But... I really envy you."
To love someone so openly, without fear or hesitation, unafraid of family opposition.
Meng San’s family status was far beneath Xie Qi’s, and he didn’t dare confess his own feelings, terrified his parents might drop dead from shock. Suddenly, he sat up and whispered, "Does your mother know about this?"
Xie Qi shook his head. He wasn’t sure.
"And yet you still dare..." If Madam Shen wore these clothes, others might not understand, but Eldest Madam Xie was sharp. She’d see right through his intentions.
Xie Qi handed the untouched bowl of shaved ice to Yan Shu, who had been eyeing it eagerly, and replied, "Loving someone isn’t shameful. Why hide it? I’m not sending you to deceive my mother. If she asks, I’ll answer honestly. I just don’t want unnecessary rumors spreading, letting idle tongues judge her. Madam Shen is a good woman—it’s natural for someone to admire her. Even if it weren’t me, it would be someone else. I just don’t want to harm her because of me."
Especially since... Madam Shen knew nothing of his feelings.
If he wished to treat her well, it was worth every ounce of caution.
Meng San was momentarily speechless but still burning with curiosity. He straightened up and asked earnestly, "Xie Jiu, don’t take this the wrong way, but your elder brother is off in Qinzhou—who knows when he’ll return—so you’re your mother’s only son now. Does Eldest Madam Xie truly not mind your feelings? Or have you already prepared some argument to convince her?"
Come on, share your wisdom! Meng San was desperate to know.
"No," Xie Qi saw right through him. "I’m afraid I’ll disappoint you. It’s just that my mother doesn’t care. If not for the marriage agreement with the Cui Family before I was born, given my mother’s temperament, she might not have chosen Cui Family Sister as my wife. You know how things stand for my family in the capital—the powerful dare not ally with us, and neither do the other great clans. Look at Feng Dalang’s wife, just a county official’s daughter. We no longer seek political marriages, just a peaceful life. After the Xu Family’s downfall, my aunt’s suicide in the palace, and the deposed Empress Guo’s death in a Taoist temple, these past three years have left every family trembling, fearing they’re next."
Meng San shivered at the bleak picture. Worse still, the Emperor had deposed Empress Guo, a noblewoman, on grounds of bearing no heir, only to elevate a palace musician, Lady Zhang, as the new empress, entrusting her with the harem’s governance.
How could the great families not tremble in fear?
"Besides, my mother has always been different from other noblewomen."
"How so?" Meng San snapped back to attention, intrigued. He had only met Eldest Madam Xie a handful of times during New Year visits with his parents. She had struck him as witty, kind, and dignified—nothing particularly unusual.
"How to explain? She’s just different. For example... when my elder brother decided to leave for that perilous journey to Qinzhou, my father wept so hard he soaked his sleeves, then used mine to wipe his face for half an hour. But my mother didn’t shed a single tear. She just gave him her dowry spear and a line of poetry—nothing more. Guess what it was?"
"What? ‘The thread in the kind mother’s hand, the robes on the wanderer’s back’?"
"Wrong. It was, ‘Through golden armor pierced by desert sands, they’ll not turn back till they conquer the western lands!’ She was telling him to go forward without looking back." Xie Qi smiled faintly. "She’s said similar things to me. When I repeatedly failed the imperial exams, she told me I wasn’t studying for her or for the Xie Family. The Xie Clan has lasted centuries—we’ve seen every glory and luxury. There’s no need to study just to uphold the family name. ‘Advance or retreat depends on the times; action or inaction lies with oneself.’ She only hopes I’ll be like Su Shi—read to enlighten the mind, read to steady the heart, and live a life of unburdened joy."
Meng San listened with such yearning that he even grabbed Xie Qi’s hands in excitement, his voice trembling slightly. "Xie Jiu, does your mother still need another son? She must, right? With your third brother away these past few years, how about... taking in a sensible foster son like me to serve her?"
Xie Qi silently withdrew his hands and pushed Meng San’s face away, exasperated. "Enough with the nonsense. Hurry up and go—it’ll be dark soon." As Meng San was shoved to his feet, Xie Qi added sternly, "Make sure you deliver it for me!"
Hugging the bundle, Meng San took three steps forward but kept looking back. "Are you really not going to adopt me?"
What sins had he committed in his past life to be stuck with such a ridiculous friend? Xie Qi gritted his teeth. "...Go! My elder brother is just traveling—he’ll be back. Don’t you dare try to take advantage of me or my mother!"
Shen Miao had no idea that because of her, the Xie family had nearly gained another unreliable "third brother." Today marked the successful conclusion of her fish-themed lottery festival, with all the prizes now distributed.
At first, she had worried it might not take off. After all, the price she set—260 wen per draw—wasn’t cheap. If no one participated, she’d have to find another way to offload the prizes she’d spent nearly 2,000 wen preparing. To her surprise, the response on the very first day was enthusiastic, giving her a fresh glimpse into the prosperity of the Song people.
Now it seemed that nearly every household in the inner city had savings to spare. Their spending power was impressive!
With Aunt Gu’s help, Shen Miao carried the lottery table inside, after which Aunt Gu headed home to rest. In the backyard, Sister Xiang was playing a game of toss with Lei Ting, throwing a sandbag high to make the plump dog leap for it—a good thing, since Lei Ting had grown so chubby that his neck now sported folds of fat.
Meanwhile, Zhuifeng lay beside Chen Chuan’s wheelchair, gnawing on the wheels and leaving a ring of tooth marks. With Shen Miao too busy to supervise him these past few days, the mischievous dog had run wild, his fur filthy. At some point, he’d even stuck his face into a stove, leaving his snout covered in soot—so grubby that Shen Miao itched to give him a bath every time she saw him.
The three chickens had also grown plump. The two hens laid two eggs daily, while the little white rooster now sported a bright red comb and long tail feathers, looking quite majestic. Unfortunately, he hadn’t yet learned to crow, only mounting the hens whenever he got the chance—only to be pecked off indignantly.
Youyu, having just filled the water vat, stood by it contentedly, arms wrapped around the carrying pole.
Ji Brother, back from the academy, was inside catching up on homework. Despite it being just a one-day break, his teacher had assigned two chapters of Mencius to copy—hardly a restful holiday.
With the night market still hours away and the shop quiet after the event, Shen Miao decided to take the children out to buy lanterns.
The Lotus Festival was approaching, and the streets were already lined with vendors selling lotus-shaped lanterns. The day before, Liu Douhua had dragged home a rabbit-shaped lantern on a wheeled lotus pedestal with a pull-string, sending Sister Xiang into a frenzy of envy. She’d begged to borrow it, but Liu Douhua, treating it like treasure, had dashed back to the tofu shop without sharing.
The moment Shen Miao announced the outing, Sister Xiang sprang up like a coiled spring, cheering excitedly. Pushing Chen Chuan’s wheelchair and calling for Ji Brother, with Sister Xiang tugging Youyu along, they set off in high spirits.
Unexpectedly, a vaguely familiar young scholar slipped into the shop, glancing around furtively before thrusting a large bundle into Shen Miao’s arms. "From Xie Jiu," he whispered, then hurried off, leading a donkey that kept noisily passing gas.
Shen Miao tried to call after him, but the scholar, pinching his nose and grumbling about the donkey’s bean-heavy diet, vanished swiftly with his page in tow.
Back in the courtyard, she unwrapped the bundle to find four sets of clothing—one large and three small—tailored for everyone in her household. For her, there was a jade-green, silver-embroidered lotus-patterned jacket paired with a moon-white pleated skirt. Sister Xiang received a crabapple-red short jacket with a multicolored skirt, while the boys’ outfits were elegant blue robes adorned with bamboo or pine motifs.
The fabrics were clearly of fine quality.
Though no note accompanied the gifts, Shen Miao, ever perceptive, understood immediately.
This was Ninth Brother’s kindness again.
Sitting beneath the lamplight, she studied the clothes, lost in thought. She knew Ninth Brother well enough to gauge his character, and she wasn’t foolish. While his past gestures had been subtle enough to ignore, this bundle—overflowing with thoughtfulness—was impossible to overlook.
He hadn’t sent Yan Shu, Qiu Hao, or any Xie family servants like Zhou Da or Zheng Neizhi. Instead, he’d enlisted an unrelated outsider, taking pains to shield her from gossip.
Some expressed affection boldly, rushing from acquaintance to marriage in days. Others did so quietly, careful not to intrude.
She wasn’t made of stone; her heart stirred.
Especially since Ninth Brother was such a good man—handsome, well-off, and gentle. Had she been an ordinary woman of this era, his discreet attentions might have swept her off her feet. But as things stood, her feelings were tangled, her mind unsettled.
For now, she wasn’t ready to dwell on romance or marriage. There were still too many things she wanted to do.
Turning, she gazed at her little courtyard, bathed in warm lamplight. Ivy crept up the sunlit eastern wall, and the small pond, filled with rainwater, had recently welcomed uninvited frogs that croaked nightly—though their presence had nearly eradicated the lantern-swarmed mosquitoes.
This was the home she’d built with her own hands.
Sister Xiang bounded in, asking when they’d leave for lanterns. The night breeze tousled her hair, turning her neat twin buns into frizzy chestnut puffs. Shen Miao suddenly laughed, retying the bundle and taking her hand. "Right now."
Some worries didn’t need fretting over; some words could wait for a proper talk. Shen Miao quickly set aside her musings. As a widowed commoner, she had no qualms about speaking her mind.
And so, the family merrily headed out to explore the night.
The streets were indeed bustling with activity. Shen Miao took the opportunity to buy two boxes of hawthorn cakes from Manager Wei's pastry shop for everyone to snack on while strolling. When Manager Wei saw her, he was momentarily taken aback but quickly acted as if no unpleasantness had ever occurred between them. He even greeted her warmly, praising her thriving business and skilled craftsmanship. Truly a merchant—once the conflict of interest was gone, his attitude shifted instantly, without even needing a warm-up.
Shen Miao also sampled the hawthorn cakes. No wonder Manager Wei's shop had stood the test of time—the craftsmanship was impeccable. The texture was soft and chewy, the sourness not overpowering, the sweetness not cloying. The balance of flavors was just right, yielding a tender, moist bite reminiscent of modern sour jujube cakes.
Not bad at all. She’d have to come back often.
When they encountered a lantern vendor, she bought Sister Xiang not only a lotus-seat rabbit lantern, identical to Liu Douhua’s, but also an additional rotating lotus lantern. Sister Xiang was so delighted that she carried the lanterns with an unyielding smile.
Youyu chose a lotus pod lantern with a long handle, like a lollipop that could be held aloft—quite amusing. Ji Brother fancied an octagonal palace lantern adorned with poetic verses, elegant and refined.
Only Chen Chuan gazed at the fading lantern lights with a hint of melancholy.
Shen Miao noticed and bent down, gently asking if he’d like to pick one out. But he put on a grown-up act, shaking his head and declaring it uninteresting.
He had been abducted during the Lantern Festival—no wonder the scene stirred painful memories. Shen Miao didn’t press him, simply patting his head before selecting a small tasseled pomander lantern for herself. The group then hurried back home.
The next day, Shen Miao untied and retied the bundle’s cloth wrapping three times before finally taking out the new clothes inside and putting them on. She also dressed Ji Brother and Sister Xiang in fresh outfits, but Chen Chuan outright refused to go. Left with no choice, Shen Miao entrusted him to Aunt Gu’s care.
Once the siblings were ready, Shen Miao brought along her hand-drawn paper version of an investment pitch—crafted after a sleepless night—and boarded the carriage sent by the Xie Family. They rode through the morning mist toward the Xie estate in the outskirts.
Meanwhile, about sixty li from Bianjing, three dust-covered donkey carts came to a stop outside an old roadside inn.
A rather handsome young scholar was the first to leap down, eagerly lifting the carriage curtain to assist his bride in disembarking. Meanwhile, several accompanying servants had already stepped forward to secure two superior rooms and one communal sleeping quarters from the innkeeper before unloading the last cart laden with luggage.
From the middle cart—slightly narrower and more worn—descended a plump, elderly woman with sharp, upturned eyes that seemed to find fault in everything. She shot a glare at her son for doting on his new wife and even spat on the ground in secret, muttering:
"If not for needing the Zheng Family’s influence and silver to secure Dalan’s future, I’d have long made her wait on me like that Madam Shen!"
