Madam He had only brought along the Second Zhou Daughter-in-law today, not out of particular favoritism for this daughter-in-law, but because she was also Madam Jiang’s daughter and thus a cousin to Dou Yuan. Since they were all connected by kinship, bringing her along wouldn’t seem out of place.
Fortunately, Dou Yuan, her niece, showed great courtesy by personally coming out to greet them. Even though her own husband no longer held an official position and was merely an ordinary country gentleman, they still received such respectful treatment. Madam He warmly took Dou Yuan’s hand and chatted about family matters.
Dou Yuan smiled and said, “Please, Aunt, come sit in the west hall first. Coincidentally, we have other relatives here as well.”
“Oh? Who might that be?” Madam He inquired.
Dou Yuan then explained, “The sixteenth cousin from the sixth uncle’s family. He’s recently taken up the post of a judicial officer here in Daming Prefecture. It hasn’t been long since his appointment. Later, we can all gather as relatives and enjoy each other’s company.”
Madam He was delighted once again.
As they entered, Jin Niang hurried over to greet them. It had been over a decade since she last saw Madam He and the Second Zhou Daughter-in-law. Back then, Madam He had been the wife of a prefect, lofty and unapproachable, while Jin Niang, then known as Chen Niang, had hardly dared to breathe in her presence. Now, Madam He had aged considerably, her figure heavier, though her face still wore a smile. Behind her stood the Second Zhou Daughter-in-law, who had grown much taller and was dressed exquisitely, her expression a mix of forced cheer and barely concealed disdain.
Jin Niang didn’t know why, after that one time Jiang Xian and He Sanlang had shared a drink, the two had ceased all contact. Nor had Jiang Xian ever mentioned it again. Nanny Fang, aware that Jin Niang had once been a maid in the Zhou household, advised against maintaining ties.
Back then, when Jin Niang and Jiang Xian were to be married, Madam Jiang had interfered, and there had been past conflicts with the Second Zhou Daughter-in-law. With all these complications, Jin Niang naturally had no intention of rekindling relations.
Now, meeting again, Jin Niang treated it as a fresh acquaintance. Introduced by Dou Yuan, she addressed Madam He as “Aunt He” and the Second Zhou Daughter-in-law as “Cousin-in-law.”
Madam He observed Jin Niang’s elegantly coiled hair adorned with a jade-adorned headdress and a peacock-feather crown, her innate gentle demeanor radiating both grace and warmth. Delighted, she said, “We’re all family here. Let’s sit together and talk.”
With that, Madam He even slipped a bracelet from her own wrist and gifted it to Jin Niang, asking many questions. When she learned of the passing of the sixth madam, she nearly shed tears. Jin Niang couldn’t help but admire Madam He’s performance—likely, Madam He hadn’t seen the sixth madam since her own marriage, if at all, yet her display of grief was impeccable.
The Madam Qian she had met days before, and now Madam He—both were formidable figures not to be underestimated.
Jin Niang had wondered whether the Second Zhou Daughter-in-law would recognize her and make a scene. To her surprise, the woman looked at her as if she were a complete stranger, showing no reaction whatsoever. Jin Niang decided to put the matter out of her mind.
“Is Sixteenth Lang’s elder brother holding office in the capital?” Madam He asked.
Two scholars from one family—not counting Jiang Fang, who had been adopted out—was a rare achievement. Moreover, both brothers were still young. In official circles, it was well known that one should never underestimate the young. And since Jiang Xian was her own nephew by marriage, it was all the more reason to foster good relations.
When Madam He inquired about Jiang Yan, Jin Niang replied, “My elder brother-in-law currently serves in the Remonstrance Bureau.”
The Second Zhou Daughter-in-law, of course, knew of Jiang Xian. Back then, in a fit of ill temper, she had merely reprimanded a servant, only to be sent off to the Jiang household as punishment. During her time there, she had interacted frequently with the Jiang family, though she had always looked down on Jiang Xian’s father for his repeated failures in the imperial exams.
How times had changed. Now, seeing Jiang Xian’s wife, she found the woman’s face vaguely familiar, as if she had seen her somewhere before—though she was certain they had never met. The lavish peacock-feather crown, the finely woven brocade robes, and the implication of a scholarly family background all spoke of status.
At this moment, Jin Niang remarked, “My younger brother passed the preliminary exams last year but didn’t succeed in the provincial exams this year. Still, he’s now enrolled in the Imperial Academy.”
“Does your family reside in the Eastern Capital?” the Second Zhou Daughter-in-law asked, noting Jin Niang’s accent didn’t sound like a native of Dongjing.
This was the first time the Second Zhou Daughter-in-law had directly addressed her. Jin Niang kept her expression neutral and simply smiled. “We moved there over a decade ago. Our ancestral home is elsewhere.”
Madam He was annoyed at her daughter-in-law’s lack of tact. In social gatherings, one ought to stick to pleasantries. Quickly smoothing things over, she said, “You came from Wuxian County? I recall serving in Yangzhou back in the day. The Jiangnan region is truly lovely.”
“You’re quite right,” Jin Niang agreed. “Incidentally, I’ve brought some Suzhou silk with me. I’ll send a couple of bolts your way later—please don’t think it too humble a gift.”
As they exchanged pleasantries, Madam Lan, wife of the legal officer, approached and called out to Jin Niang, “Sister, why are you still here? Madam Wang has arrived, and Madam Qian sent me to fetch you.”
Jin Niang quickly excused herself to Madam He. “Aunt, please wait here for a moment. I must first pay my respects to the prefect’s wife, then return to continue our conversation.”
As the wife of a judicial officer, it was only proper for her to greet the superior’s wife. Back when Madam He’s husband had served as prefect of Yangzhou, all subordinate officials had curried favor with her. Thus, she waved Jin Niang off. “Go on, niece.”
Jin Niang hurried off with Madam Lan. Madam Qian had reserved a seat specifically for her, clearly setting her apart.
“Thank you, sister,” Jin Niang said with a smile.
She had to admit that Madam Qian was an excellent superior to have. In official circles, aligning with the right person was true fortune. These days, she had also met with Madam Ji, but the latter treated her as little more than a subordinate. Compared to Madam Qian, the choice was obvious.
Besides, Madam Ji hadn’t yet reached the stature of Madam Wang. Even in front of Madam Wang, Madam Ji might not have much say—so why should Jin Niang feel intimidated?
Originally, she had intended to remain neutral. But she soon realized her situation was like a lone tree without shade—isolated and unsupported. Though the Zhen family was related to hers, always relying on them for connections would only invite disdain. Better to find a capable superior to follow for now, building her own influence for the future.
One shouldn’t underestimate these officials’ wives. Matters that men couldn’t openly discuss or negotiate could often be quietly arranged through them.
Still, Jin Niang wasn’t as blindly devoted to Madam Qian as Madam Lan was. She merely reciprocated kindness with kindness.
The Zhen family invited Madam Wang to take the seat of honor as a mark of respect, but Madam Wang insisted that Madam Zhen, as the birthday celebrant, should have it. The two elderly ladies politely deferred to each other before finally sitting down together.
Madam Zhen must have been a great beauty in her youth. Even now, she hadn’t gained weight, her delicate features exuding elegance. In contrast, Madam Wang appeared much more approachable, like any ordinary grandmother.
Madam Wu had naturally accompanied Madam Wang and was now mingling with the guests.
The two matriarchs were discussing opera, and the others chimed in accordingly. Jin Niang, who wasn’t particularly knowledgeable about opera, found it rather dull—though not entirely incomprehensible.
Fortunately, as the wife of a low-ranking official, she went unnoticed.
Madam Ji sat across from Madam Qian. She had previously invited Jin Niang, never expecting that the latter would refuse her offer and still remain close to Madam Qian. The sight of it truly angered her.
As they spoke, word came that the Wei family had arrived. The Wei family held an exceptionally high status. Last time, Madam Ji had managed to enroll her daughter in their household’s tutoring sessions only after pulling strings through two layers of connections, even though Jiang Xian was a judge in the Daming Prefecture.
Madam Wei’s husband currently served as the Fiscal Commissioner of Huainan, a high-ranking third-tier official in the court. Thus, the moment she entered, the atmosphere in the room shifted once more.
Madam Wei, now thirty-seven, had a husband who had passed the imperial examinations at eighteen. Though he had served as an official for twenty years, he was still only in his thirties. Adorned with a pearl headdress, she hurried in with quick steps, smiling as she greeted, "Old Matriarch, I’ve arrived late."
Madam Zhen invited her to take a seat. With the presence of a younger noblewoman like Madam Wei, the mood in the room changed yet again.
"Living to seventy is a rare blessing, yet the Old Matriarch remains as spry as ever. We all pale in comparison," Madam Wei remarked with a smile.
The elderly Madam Zhen, shrewd with age, merely replied, "You young ones are nothing like me—old and missing teeth! As the saying goes, the fortunate need not rush, while the unfortunate exhaust themselves running. Your husband, the Fiscal Commissioner, has people deliver peonies from Luoyang just for your enjoyment. Living in such luxury, why should you toil? What do you say to that?"
This teasing caused Madam Wei to blush—a rare sight. Jin Niang was astonished. Why did the wealthy all seem obsessed with peonies, and in such extravagant ways? Madam Wei had people fetch peonies directly from Luoyang just for her viewing.
Still, this gave Jin Niang an idea. Perhaps she could visit the Wei household and design a peony-patterned gown or collar trim. She could gift it on someone’s birthday, ensuring they remembered her thoughtfulness.
Once all the guests had arrived, Madam Zhen, now advanced in years, had Madam Zhen arrange the seating. The first table seated Madam Wei, Old Madam Wang, the Fiscal Commissioner of Hebei Circuit, the Pacification Commissioner, the Judicial Commissioner, and the Superintendent of Granaries.
The second table included Madam Ji, Madam Qian, Jin Niang, Madam Lan, and the wife of the Registrar, among others.
The third table was reserved for relatives and close friends, such as Madam Zhen’s maternal family and Madam He.
The banquet was a lavish spread of delicacies from land and sea, a dazzling display of wealth. No wonder Madam Dou the Second had brought two boatloads of dowry. Yet after a cup of wine, Jin Niang regained her composure. It was human nature to covet more, but who didn’t build their fortune bit by bit, like small streams forming rivers?
If she and Jiang Xian worked hard, they too could one day amass wealth. There was no need to be blinded by opulence. Her gaze cleared with renewed resolve.
Meanwhile, the Second Madam Zhou sat at the third table with her mother-in-law, thanks to Dou Yuan’s favor. Madam He herself didn’t mind—though she had once been the wife of a prefect, she now knew what it meant to be a fallen phoenix, and she bore the bitterness silently. But Second Madam Zhou seethed inwardly. In her youth, her father had overseen official promotions, and her uncle had been wealthy. Back then, even high-ranking ministers had visited their home.
Now, no one paid them any heed. Even Jiang Xian’s wife, who had just been chatting with them, was seated at the second table. A mere seventh-rank judge’s wife was treated better than they were. The disparity was too great, and her displeasure showed on her face.
After the banquet, Dou Yuan helped see the guests off and said to Jin Niang, "In my household, my elder sister-in-law doesn’t manage affairs, and my younger sister-in-law is useless. I’d like to ask you to lend me a hand."
Jin Niang readily agreed. "With so many officials’ wives here, it’s impressive that your mother-in-law handled it all. You’re still young, yet so capable. I’ll assist you with minor tasks, but the major decisions must be yours."
"If you’re willing to help, I’m endlessly grateful," Dou Yuan replied warmly, linking arms with Jin Niang in a show of closeness.
The two had always been on good terms, living right across from each other, so it was natural for Dou Yuan to ask her. But Second Madam Zhou watched with resentment. On the way home, she complained to Madam He, "You’re her own aunt—she should have asked you first. How could she turn to someone else?"
Madam He sighed. "I’m too old for such exertions."
Seeing Madam He’s lack of spirit, Second Madam Zhou could only stew in her frustration.
Later, Jin Niang returned home and told Jiang Xian, "Today, the Zhen family hosted close relatives and officials’ wives. Tomorrow, they’ll invite distant kin and old friends. They asked me to help, and since they’re overwhelmed, and we live right across from them—not to mention all the favors we’ve received—I agreed."
Jiang Xian simply said, "As long as you don’t tire yourself out."
Jin Niang then mentioned meeting Madam He and her daughter-in-law. "Why is it that even though you’ve shared drinks with He Sanlang, his family acted as if they barely knew me today? Should we send them gifts during the holidays, so they don’t later accuse you of arrogance now that you’re an official? After all, we’re practically family."
"My dear, Second Madam Zhou is no good. She once insulted a maid so badly that she had to stay with our Jiang family. You used to work in their household. If she were sensible, she’d treat you like a sister, as Second Madam Zhou does. But she isn’t. Foolish people like her only bring trouble—better to avoid them. If anyone asks, just blame me. Say I was too busy and forgot to send gifts."
His words reassured Jin Niang, and she couldn’t help but laugh.
Jiang Xian was puzzled. "Why are you laughing?"
"When you mentioned her insulting a maid—that maid was me." She then recounted how Second Madam Zhou had once vented her anger on her, forcing her to kneel.
Enraged, Jiang Xian slammed the table. "That shrew! I’ll make her pay!"
"Don’t," Jin Niang said. "I already got my revenge." She told him how she had feigned dizziness. "It didn’t truly harm her, but among friends and family, that was the only way I could retaliate."
Jiang Xian was far from satisfied. He lifted Jin Niang’s skirt, his heart aching at the thought of her suffering.
But Jin Niang said, "I used to dream of humiliating her one day. But today, seeing her—my status is higher, my clothes finer, my husband more accomplished. Why should I stoop to her level? If I did, it would only reflect poorly on you."
To forgive is divine. Holding onto grudges only poisons the heart.
Jiang Xian refused to listen at first, but Jin Niang eventually persuaded him. "Be the bigger man. With all the cases in Daming Prefecture and frequent bandit troubles, why seek more enemies?"
"Fine, fine. If she lets it go, so will I. But if she dares to speak ill of you again, she’ll regret it." Seeing Jin Niang’s earnest plea, he reluctantly agreed.
Touched by Jiang Xian’s protectiveness, Jin Niang poured wine into her mouth and fed it to him with a kiss. The two then shared another intimate moment.
The next day, after breakfast, Jin Niang went to see Madam Zhen. Madam Zhen said, "Thank you for your help, sister-in-law."
"Please don’t say that," Jin Niang replied. "I’m just someone with too much free time. I only hope you don’t find me bothersome."
With that, Madam Zhen asked her to go to Dou Yuan’s room. On her way, Jin Niang encountered Dou Yuan’s husband, the Second Young Master Zhen, who promptly bowed in greeting. Jin Niang returned the courtesy before meeting with Dou Yuan.
That day, Jin Niang spent her time accompanying Dou Yuan in entertaining guests, making conversation, and helping with seating arrangements. By evening, she was thoroughly exhausted.
Yet she also learned how grand households hosted guests—not all at once, but in separate batches. Mixing guests of different statuses would likely offend those of higher standing, who might see it as a breach of etiquette.
After several busy days, Jin Niang rested at home, composing a poem each day—some imitations, some original—while poring over books for allusions.
In the afternoon, Sister Jun returned home looking upset. Jin Niang asked, "What’s wrong? If something’s bothering you, you can tell me."
"Mother, what does 'born of a concubine' mean?" Sister Jun asked.
Jin Niang frowned. "That’s an insult, not a kind thing to say. Where did you hear it?"
"From Miss Ji the Third. She said her eldest sister was 'born of a concubine' and still dared to dream high."
This was the kind of strife between half-sisters in noble families. If wives and concubines got along, things were peaceful—but if not, the household could become a battleground.
Jin Niang pressed further, "What caused the argument?"
Sister Jun giggled. "I know—it’s because of the 'male fox spirit,' Wei the Seventh Young Master."
"Wei the Seventh? The youngest son of Madam Wei?" Jin Niang had heard that Madam Wei stayed behind instead of accompanying her husband to his post because her youngest son was frail.
Hearing her daughter say "fox spirit," Jin Niang couldn’t help but tease, "You little girls know everything, don’t you?"
Children, though young, absorbed much from their social circles. To them, anyone exceptionally beautiful was a "fox spirit"—often just envy in disguise.
Sister Jun only laughed.
"Mother, let them all be bewitched by the 'male fox spirit.' That way, I can focus on studying and rank first in the exams."
She had fallen behind in her lessons before, forcing Jin Niang and Jiang Xian to take turns tutoring her at night. Fortunately, she was diligent and had managed to catch up.
Jin Niang had worried about her daughter developing early romantic notions, but hearing this, she chuckled. "Good girl, such ambition. Stay out of the Ji sisters’ squabbles."
"I know. Mother, Madam Wei’s birthday is coming up. Madam Shen said we should send some needlework as gifts."
Jin Niang nodded. "Yesterday, I heard she loves peonies. I sketched a peony design—I’ll trace it for you, and you can embroider it. We’ll make a pair of peony pouches. How does that sound?"
Sister Jun was delighted.
Since Jiang Xian was working overnight at the yamen, Jin Niang sent him food and soup. She and the children dined alone. That evening, she let Sister Jun sleep in her room. Seeing her mother had already designed the peony sachet, Sister Jun cut the fabric and began splitting threads for embroidery.
Jin Niang was strict about teaching her daughter needlework—not just as a skill, but as a means of independence.
Sister Jun also mentioned wanting to buy a guqin, as Madam Shen would teach them to play. She also needed to bring spices to school the next day for a incense-making lesson.
"I’ll talk to your father tomorrow about finding you a good qin. As for the spices, I’ll pack samples from my chest for you to take in the morning." Jin Niang remembered how trivial matters loomed large in childhood and didn’t want her daughter to feel unprepared.
The next day, Jiang Xian sent someone home for clothes—he’d been assigned official duties in another county. Jin Niang packed two sets of clothes, shoes, socks, and medicines for injuries and colds.
Now she couldn’t ask him about the qin, and she knew little about instruments herself. She asked Young Master Chen to inquire and summoned Ruyan.
Ruyan, who had openly exchanged silver and was dissatisfied with several shop locations, had just found a promising one. Hearing Jin Niang’s summons, she grew nervous—only to learn it was about the qin. Eager to repay Jin Niang’s kindness, she offered to help.
Within days, she found a fine qin from the Lei family of Shu, its tone clear and elegant, engraved with ancient seal script.
"How much was it? I’ll pay you," Jin Niang said.
But Ruyan insisted it was a gift for Sister Jun. Jin Niang refused. "This looks expensive. If you won’t take payment, I can’t accept it."
To her, a beginner’s qin needed only to be playable and reasonably priced. A famed instrument could wait until her daughter showed real talent—no need for lavish tools without skill.
Ruyan protested, "It only cost ten strings of cash. If you don’t believe me, I’ll show the receipt. You saved my life—this is just a small token. If you refuse, you must despise me."
Reluctantly, Jin Niang accepted. Knowing Ruyan was opening a teahouse, she gave her several pounds of fine tea and two tea sets as capital.
By the time the qin arrived, Sister Jun had nearly finished the sachet for Madam Wei, who adored it. Impressed that a girl of seven or eight could embroider so well, Madam Wei gifted her a bracelet.
Encouragement worked wonders—Sister Jun, thrilled, begged Jin Niang to teach her more embroidery.
Soon, winter arrived. Madam Lan sent an invitation to a poetry gathering, praising the Qian family’s blooming red plums. Madam Qian also sent fruits and vegetables, which Jin Niang acknowledged graciously.
Unexpectedly, Madam He sent produce too. Though Jin Niang would never have initiated contact, she couldn’t refuse a delivery at her door. She gave the messenger a tip and reciprocated with ginger, fermented beans, red threads, spices, pears, and clams.
Had Madam He not sent anything, Jin Niang wouldn’t have bothered.
Madam He was shrewd. She’d noticed Jiang Xian hadn’t visited since assuming office, and Jin Niang lacked Dou Yuan’s meticulous courtesy. Yet Jin Niang didn’t seem arrogant—just puzzling.
Unlike the meddlesome Madam Jiang, Madam He preferred letting mysteries lie. She didn’t pry; if something baffled her, she let it go.
Just as she had once sent someone to the Zhou family to investigate the temperaments of the Zhou daughters and uncover their true natures, even though she knew her third daughter-in-law was troublesome, for the sake of the marital alliance between the two families, she would never bring these matters to light.
On the other hand, Third Madam Zhou, upon learning from Master Jiang the Sixth that Jiang Xian held an official post in Daming Prefecture, recalled that her second elder sister had some past grievances with Jin Niang. Fearing that her reckless second sister might start making unfounded accusations again—stirring up old grudges and new conflicts—she quickly sent seasonal gifts along with a personal letter addressed specifically to Second Madam Zhou, hoping to prevent any further trouble.
