The widow of the Wei Family, Madam Shen, was in her forties—far from the dull and gloomy image people often associated with widows. Her fair complexion and petite stature were complemented by a long sapphire-blue linen gown, her dark hair pinned up with a white jade hairpin, exuding an air of scholarly refinement.
Jin Niang, accompanied by Madam Wei, met with her and promptly said, "We are deeply grateful for your kindness. I entrust my daughter to your care."
Madam Shen quickly returned the courtesy. "You flatter me, madam."
"My daughter has only been haphazardly taught at home by me. Please be patient with her," Jin Niang added.
Madam Shen responded with a few polite words.
The conversation then turned to the tuition fees. Madam Wei smiled and said, "This is no great matter. Why trouble yourself with the expense?"
Jin Niang laughed. "If you refuse, we wouldn’t dare impose further."
Only then did Madam Wei disclose the amount—twenty-four strings of cash per year—and instructed Jin Niang to give it directly to Madam Shen. Jin Niang added a plain silk headscarf and two violet crepe handkerchiefs as extras.
Sister Jun piped up, "Mother, why must I study at the Wei Family when Brother Ning and I are already learning well under Tutor Du?"
"The Wei Family’s school has seven female students," Jin Niang explained. "Besides reading, you’ll learn incense-making, tea ceremonies, lawn bowling, and even polo. You’ll also make friends. Isn’t that wonderful?"
Hearing this, Sister Jun grew eager to go. She even picked out a pair of self-made sachets to bring along. Jin Niang nodded approvingly—such gifts were customary when meeting Madam Wei. Young girls typically presented embroidered threads, but thanks to her mother’s guidance, Sister Jun was already skilled at sewing sachets, socks, and weaving decorative knots.
Mother and daughter then selected their attire for the day. It was already October, just after the Winter Stove Festival, and the weather in Daming Prefecture was turning chilly. They busied themselves airing and perfuming the padded garments stored at the bottom of their trunks.
Only Brother Ning pouted. "Waaah! I want to study with Sister Jun!"
Jin Niang teased, "Keep that up, and I’ll tell Tutor Du."
At once, Brother Ning stopped his pretend crying and snuggled into her arms. Sister Jun pinched his plump little hand. "We can still do our homework together every day."
"Exactly," Jin Niang said, ruffling their hair. "Come to me after lessons, finish your work, have dinner, and then play in the back garden. How does that sound?"
The word "play" instantly brightened Brother Ning’s mood.
The next day, Jiao Xing styled Sister Jun’s hair in twin buns, adorned with begonia-red beaded tassels and gold-plated hairpins. She wore a padded jacket with camellia motifs, a matching sash, and pale blue silk trousers, with tea-colored flat shoes.
Jin Niang, dressed formally with a golden headpiece, escorted her daughter but refrained from intruding on the lesson. After surveying the surroundings and finding them satisfactory, she returned home.
Back from the Wei Family, Nanny Fang noticed Jin Niang lost in thought and chuckled. "Feeling a little empty, aren’t you? The late Sixth Madam often said children are noisy when they’re around but dearly missed when they’re gone."
Jin Niang nearly retorted that she was finally free—she had too much to do! Like laboring over poetry, spending an hour memorizing verses and two to three more forcing herself to compose some.
After a midday nap and a daze upon waking, she’d lose herself in her beloved embroidery.
So much to do!
To Nanny Fang’s remark, she only responded with a dry laugh.
With her daughter away, she pulled out Wang Wei’s poems to study. Half were familiar from her past life, but lines like "Over the vast watery fields fly white egrets; Amid the dense summer woods golden orioles sing." from "After Rain at Lantian" left her marveling.
"Why can’t I write like this? Well, if I could, I’d make a living teaching poetry," she muttered, shaking her head.
Ying brought her hot tea and asked, "Madam, why do you think Madam Shen never remarried? She has no children."
Jin Niang sipped her tea. "Not every woman wishes to marry. With over a hundred taels in tuition yearly, she could teach another decade or two, amassing thousands of strings of cash—more than enough for retirement."
She sighed. Between the children’s tuition (nearly sixty strings), their house (over five hundred), and furnishings, their posting in Daming Prefecture was costing far more than it earned.
"You’re right," Ying agreed.
Jin Niang sipped a cup of tea before turning her attention to Yu Shinan's poem "The Cicada": "With drooping whiskers, it drinks the clear dew; its song flows from the sparse paulownia. High above, its voice carries far—no need to borrow the autumn wind."
At noon, she instructed Juxiang to prepare her usual weight-loss meal: two portions of greens, one portion of protein, and one portion of carbs.
Normally, she dined with the children, worrying they might be picky eaters. But now, with the older and younger ones away at school—even Brother Ning taking meals at Linglong Hall—she could finally eat alone.
In the afternoon, she tentatively composed a poem and left it on the desk, awaiting Jiang Xian's critique.
Brother Ning returned from school early. As was their lifelong habit—finishing tasks before play to avoid procrastination—he headed straight to Jin Niang’s quarters for snacks before starting homework.
"Mother, why aren’t you eating these?" Brother Ning noticed she’d set aside the treats he’d given her.
Jin Niang shook her head. "I can’t have these. You enjoy them. We’ll dine when your sister and father return, alright?"
Brother Ning nodded eagerly. Soon, Sister Jun arrived, and Jin Niang asked, "How was your first day? Did you get along with the other girls?"
"Elder Sister Wei was very kind—she even took me to the privy herself. And Elder Sister Ji helped me with homework warmly. Third Sister Ji shares my desk; she’s two months younger than me," Sister Jun replied.
Relieved she was adjusting well, Jin Niang urged her to finish homework quickly so she could play in the garden.
She meticulously checked both children’s assignments—recitation for the younger, recitation and calligraphy for the elder. Sister Jun had to write two pages of regular script and one of running script. Having practiced tracing characters at home often, she completed it effortlessly.
Once done, the children played in the garden, kicking shuttlecocks and spinning tops.
When Jiang Xian returned, hearing all three were at play—especially Jin Niang, whose vivacity shone under the sunlight as she kicked the shuttlecock—he eagerly joined them.
Their laughter filled the garden, prompting Nanny Fang to chuckle and remark, "Such childlike spirits."
Yet Ruyan watched wistfully. After two years studying forensics and medicine under Jiang Liujie, she’d gained some skill but was far from mastery. In Daming Prefecture, where seasoned coroners abounded, she felt redundant.
Though Madam Wei treated her kindly, her ambiguous status—neither master nor servant—while receiving allowances felt unsustainable.
Where could she go?
At dinner, Jin Niang had the children wipe their sweat first. Today, no urging was needed—after exercise, even Sister Jun, usually a picky eater, cleaned her plate.
Once the children washed up and slept, Jin Niang presented her poem to Jiang Xian.
"Better than last time," he said, raising an eyebrow, though he noted flaws like forced artistry and misused allusions.
"Thank you. I’ll share again when I’ve improved," Jin Niang replied.
Jiang Xian laughed. "No need for formalities."
She preferred silent effort to sudden triumphs over excessive sharing.
Now, though, she nestled closer. "Tired today?"
Her translucent gauze overdress revealed a jade-hued underrobe, its hue nearly blending with her alabaster skin. The contrast with her pomegranate-red flat shoes and the allure in her eyes—a mix of innocence and enchantment—left him breathless, marveling at his fortune.
They tumbled together, the mandarin-duck curtains drawn as autumn winds rustled outside, warmth kindling within.
Overnight, Daming turned chilly. Yesterday, they’d shed layers to play; today demanded padded jackets. Jin Niang wore a pale purple gold-patterned jacket over lotus-root-hued pleated skirts, her steps clicking in crimson phoenix-head platform shoes. A silver filigree crown with cloud motifs and velvet flowers adorned her hair, framed by a beaded forehead veil.
Observing the Wei and Zhen families’ ladies, she noted their lavish style—unlike Wu County’s preference for intricate but muted embroidery and low crowns. Here, bright brocades, emerald satin skirts, and towering coiffures ruled.
She’d considered red jackets and green skirts but, finding them mismatched, stuck to her own taste.
Gifts and invitations in hand, she set out for her visit.
Never did I expect Madam Qian to be so warm and welcoming. Just as I entered the second gate, a petite yet energetic woman came forward, saying, "I should have invited you sooner. Sister, you are truly a vision of elegance."
Here, the term "sister" wasn't used to denote age but as a mark of respect. Jin Niang quickly replied, "You flatter me, sister. It should have been my duty to pay you a visit first. But with household affairs keeping me busy and unfamiliarity with your customs, I feared an abrupt visit might offend."
Seeing Jin Niang dressed modestly and speaking so humbly, Madam Qian grew even fonder of her. Linking arms, they walked inside, chatting about the latest happenings in Daming Prefecture. Jin Niang thought to herself, This is how a host should welcome guests.
Madam Qian then led her to a flower hall where several ladies were already seated. After exchanging greetings, Jin Niang observed them. There was Madam Ji, the wife of the vice prefect, a woman in her late thirties with plain features but adorned in an elaborate floral headdress and a green brocade jacket embroidered with precious motifs—a picture of wealth. Another was a young noblewoman, Madam Wu, the daughter-in-law of Prefect Wang, her hair pinned with chrysanthemum hairpins and white jade combs, her demeanor graceful and refined.
Wives of various officials also came forward to greet her.
Madam Qian, ever the social butterfly, suggested, "Since Madam Jiang, the wife of the judicial officer, is new here, why not enjoy a floating wine cup feast in my garden? I’ve called for two musicians to entertain us while we get acquainted."
Passing through the moon gate and an ornamental gate, then winding around a rockery, they arrived at a lush garden filled with fragrant blooms and a murmuring stream—a scene of pure delight. It was clear that Judge Dong’s family was well-off; even in Daming Prefecture, a mansion with such a garden and pond would cost around five thousand taels of silver.
Jin Niang’s own modest garden was carved out by sacrificing part of the third courtyard, barely a fifth the size of Madam Qian’s estate.
Once seated, Jin Niang took a place beside Madam Qian, facing Madam Wu and Madam Ji.
Madam Wu initiated the conversation, "May I ask how old you are, madam?"
"Twenty-eight," Jin Niang replied.
Madam Wu smiled. "We’re the same age! Why not address each other as sisters?"
Jin Niang demurred, "How could I presume to call you sister?"
Yet their exchange flowed naturally. Madam Wu’s husband served as vice prefect in Xiangzhou, and she had a son and a daughter—the son raised by her mother-in-law, the daughter by her side. Married at sixteen, her eleven-year-old daughter was already betrothed.
At this, Madam Qian chimed in, "She’s engaged to the sixth son of the prominent Wei Family."
"Ah, him." Jin Niang had visited the Wei Family twice and even met this sixth son, said to be born of a concubine from the main branch.
Madam Wu asked curiously, "Are you acquainted with the Weis?"
Jin Niang smiled. "My daughter attends their school. I heard about it when I last escorted her there."
"Oh, Madam Ji," Madam Qian interjected smoothly, "aren’t your three lovely daughters also at the Wei Family’s girls’ school?"
Jin Niang mused, No wonder everyone enjoys gatherings here. Though she and Madam Qian had just met, the latter effortlessly integrated her into the circle. Regardless of hidden motives, the kindness felt genuine.
Madam Ji then invited, "Madam Jiang, do bring your child to visit us sometime."
As they chatted, dishes were served, accompanied by soft music. Madam Qian remarked to Jin Niang, "Madam Wu always greets newcomers warmly—she’s generous and kind-hearted."
"I’m grateful to you, sister, for introducing me to everyone," Jin Niang whispered.
Madam Qian thought, This judicial officer’s wife is sharp—she holds her own in conversation and recognizes goodwill. Aloud, she said, "You must visit often from now on."
Jin Niang agreed with a smile.
After the meal, the ladies dispersed to games like pitch-pot, backgammon, or chess—no one pressured others to join. Initially mingling with the larger group, Jin Niang was soon pulled aside by Madam Qian to play cards with Madam Ji and Madam Wu.
Between rounds, Madam Ji asked Madam Wu, "Why didn’t your family’s matriarch come today?"
"She intended to, but the sudden cold left her unwell this morning, so she sent me instead," Madam Wu explained.
Madam Ji clicked her tongue. "One mustn’t take minor illnesses lightly—they can worsen quickly."
Madam Wu nodded earnestly as Madam Qian shared health tips, even reminding Jin Niang, "Winters here are harsh. Be sure to prepare thick clothing."
"I’ve brought winter wear, but my skin dried terribly. At first, I didn’t understand why my heels cracked—turns out it was from the dryness," Jin Niang admitted.
Madam Qian laughed. "That won’t do! You must apply ointment."
Of the three, Jin Niang spoke least with Madam Ji, finding Madam Qian and Madam Wu far friendlier.
Madam Qian reintroduced Madam Lan, whose husband was a newly appointed scholar who had passed the imperial examinations and was now serving as the Judicial Officer of Daming Prefecture. She had arrived a few days earlier than Jin Niang.
Madam Lan was three years younger than Jin Niang, tall and full of energy. Earlier, Jin Niang had noticed her winning repeatedly at the game of pitch-pot, and now she looked even more radiant as she asked, "Madam Jiang, what do you usually do at home?"
"Nothing much—just reading and needlework, the same as everyone else," Jin Niang replied.
"Perfect! I was thinking of organizing a poetry gathering once the plum blossoms bloom at Sister Qian’s place. What do you say?" Madam Lan said with a smile.
Jin Niang readily agreed. Though she was still learning, she saw no harm in participating. Pressure breeds motivation, she thought to herself.
Madam Qian laughed heartily. "I’m not skilled in poetry, but I’d be happy to help organize the gathering. We can invite more people to join the fun."
"Of course," Jin Niang said, eager to show her support. Madam Qian had introduced her to this circle today, and it was only right to return the favor. After all, friendships grew through frequent interactions.
The three of them chatted animatedly, but Jin Niang happened to notice Madam Ji looking displeased and couldn’t fathom why.
Madam Ji was, in fact, seething with anger. On her way back, she vented to her trusted maid, Chunxian, "That Madam Qian has pulled another one into her circle today, always trying to make herself look popular."
Originally, as the wife of a higher-ranking official, Madam Ji had held a superior status to Madam Qian. In terms of family background, there was no comparison—Madam Ji’s father, though retired, had been the late emperor’s tutor, a position of great prestige. Madam Qian’s father, on the other hand, was just an ordinary official, and she herself was a widow. They had both arrived in Daming Prefecture around the same time, yet Madam Qian had somehow won over far more people. Everyone flocked to her, responding eagerly to her every call.
Chunxian understood Madam Ji’s frustration—she felt neglected both at home and in society.
At home, her husband favored Concubine Ji over her. Hoping to expand her influence outside, she found herself constantly outshone by Madam Qian, a woman she considered beneath her.
"Actually, we do have an opportunity," Chunxian suggested. "Our young ladies are studying with the Wei Family. Through that connection, you could win over the wife of the Investigating Magistrate."
Someone had to rally behind her—she couldn’t remain a lone commander.
Madam Ji clapped her hands in delight. "That’s a brilliant idea."
Meanwhile, when Jin Niang returned home, Ruyan served her a cup of tea. Jin Niang took a sip and remarked, "Your tea art is better than Ying’s. But why trouble yourself with this when we have servants?"
"Madam, how could you say that? You’ve taken me in and treated me so kindly—I can’t just sit idle," Ruyan replied.
In fact, Jin Niang’s generosity only made her more uneasy. This kind of life wasn’t sustainable. When she had worked under Sister Jiang Liu, earning her keep through labor, she had felt at ease. Now, uncertain of her future, she couldn’t help but worry.
Sensing her concern, Jin Niang reassured her, "It’s nothing. My household can certainly support one more person. But I’m not sure how to arrange things for you yet."
She had only just arrived in Daming Prefecture and couldn’t immediately send Ruyan to study medicine or forensic examination. Besides, the city was teeming with experienced coroners—Ruyan wouldn’t stand out among them.
"Madam, I do have an idea," Ruyan said hesitantly. "I’m skilled at brewing tea and making snacks. If I were to open a teahouse… well, to be honest, I wouldn’t dare do it alone. But with your support, I’d like to try here."
Jin Niang was willing to agree, though she had reservations. "Back in Wu County, I would’ve said yes without hesitation. But since moving to Daming Prefecture, between buying a house, furnishing it, and the children’s education, I’m afraid I can’t afford to purchase a property for you."
She could contribute some funds, but investing in a business venture was too risky.
Ruyan blushed and admitted, "I’ve kept something from you, Madam. When I jumped into the water, the silver locket around my neck held a banknote."
That money had been her last resort, a secret she’d kept from everyone. But she trusted Jin Niang’s integrity—she wouldn’t covet her wealth. Besides, starting a business required backing, and she needed the Jiang family’s influence.
Nearby, Ying nearly gritted her teeth. This Ruyan was full of schemes! Jin Niang had saved her, yet she insisted on staying, freeloading all this time despite having hidden wealth.
Jin Niang, however, felt relieved. If Ruyan had her own funds and a plan, this arrangement could work well. She smiled and said, "Since you have a plan, go ahead with it. If you need help finding a shop or an agent, I’ll ask Young Master Chen to assist you."
Overjoyed, Ruyan thanked her profusely.
Standing behind Jin Niang, Nanny Fang thought it might be for the best if this woman left the household. After all, such a clever and capable young lady staying in the residence could pose a serious threat if she ever rose in status, becoming a formidable rival for her mistress.
So after Ruyan left the main quarters to return to her own room, Nanny Fang noticed Ying was upset that Ruyan hadn’t been truthful. She tried to console her, saying, "Look, even our mistress isn’t angry—why should you be? It’s better that she leaves. Did you really expect her to stay here forever?"
Their conversation in the side room reached Jin Niang’s ears, but she couldn’t blame Nanny Fang or Ying. Nanny Fang had been brought back by her, and their fates were tied together. If Jin Niang lost her standing, Nanny Fang would face the same fate as when the Sixth Madam passed away—being cast out of the household. So naturally, Nanny Fang would guard against anyone who might jeopardize Jin Niang’s position.
As for Ying, her concerns weren’t as far-reaching. She was simply loyal to Jin Niang, treating the Jiang family as her own and seeing Jin Niang as family. That’s why she felt betrayed by the deception.
Jin Niang could only pretend she hadn’t heard their words.
Meanwhile, while Ruyan busied herself with preparations, Jin Niang also had to arrange gifts for Old Madam Zhen’s birthday celebration. Over a dozen days later, she set out with her two children, Sister Jun and Brother Ning, to attend the birthday festivities at the Zhen family.
No sooner had they settled in their seats than word came from outside that Aunt He had arrived. Dou Yuan smiled and said, "Cousin-in-law, let me introduce you to a relative—my maternal aunt, Madam He, who is also your husband’s paternal aunt."
