Jin Niang had been watching the opera at the Zhen household and even drank a cup of wine, her face betraying nothing. Yet the moment she returned home, she confided in Jiang Xian: "I never expected her to be so reckless—she actually dared to extort me."
"My lady, let us settle both old and new grudges together," Jiang Xian said bitterly.
Jin Niang finally nodded. "Then I’ll have someone keep an eye on her household. If there’s any unlawful behavior, we’ll make sure she suffers the consequences."
Even if it was a setup, it had to be justified.
Jiang Xian, however, gave a light chuckle. "My lady, I know you’ve always preferred to handle things yourself. But this woman is desperate for money and won’t give up so easily. As the saying goes, 'Men die for wealth, birds perish for food.' You’ve always been kind-hearted and haven’t encountered such people, but I deal with them daily in my cases. We must strike first."
Jin Niang sighed. "I know I often take a defensive stance, afraid of making a misstep. That’s why I’m asking for your help. But I also want to remain virtuous—doesn’t it make me a bad person to dirty your hands for my sake?"
For a woman, admitting her own desires was difficult—even she struggled with this flaw.
To her surprise, Jiang Xian placed his hands on her shoulders and said, "My foolish lady, I am your husband. If I don’t stand up for you when you’re wronged, what kind of man would I be? Besides, it’s precisely because it’s you that I’m willing to clear all obstacles in your path."
"But she’s an inner-house woman—your reach can’t extend that far, can it? Xian-lang, if you want to catch her, it must be with solid evidence." Jin Niang was both moved and delighted.
Jiang Xian replied, "Ever since I learned how she humiliated you, I knew this day would come. That’s why I’ve had people watching her. Given how ruthless she was even in her youth, and considering her family’s upbringing, she wouldn’t have improved with age. So I’ve made preparations."
Truthfully, he felt his wife was being too distant—such a small matter, yet she feared troubling him.
Why was this? Had he not made his devotion clear enough?
The thought filled Jiang Xian with a pang of sorrow, and he accidentally voiced his innermost thoughts: "In the end, my lady fears that relying on me will become a habit, and if one day I turn unfaithful, she’ll have no refuge. Isn’t that so?"
Jin Niang froze—he had indeed struck upon her deepest worry.
Seeing her silence, Jiang Xian looked even more pitiful as he added, "My lady, you’re far more captivating than I am. I’m constantly afraid someone might steal you away, worried my official rank won’t be enough to protect you. How could you ever doubt my loyalty?"
His words finally brought a smile to Jin Niang’s face. "What nonsense are you spouting?"
The couple exchanged a few more intimate words before Jiang Xian, later that evening, instructed the seemingly simple-minded Liu Dou'er: "Go and tell Old Liu of the Western Hills—it’s time."
Liu Dou'er nodded.
Meanwhile, Second Madam Zhou, having been mocked by Jin Niang, was seething with humiliation and rage. On the way back, she complained to Madam He, "Aunt, that wife of Jiang Xian’s is the same seamstress girl you once sent to our household in the capital."
She had expected Madam He to share her indignation, but instead, Madam He pondered for a long moment before saying, "No wonder she avoids associating with our family."
Second Madam Zhou seized the opportunity. "Exactly! She’s afraid we’ll expose her disgraceful past. A servant is a servant—why won’t she admit it? She’s cunning and deceitful, with a twisted nature, skilled in deception and well-versed in wickedness. She won’t acknowledge her roots, clinging instead to the Wei Family to elevate herself. We should—"
"Hui Hui, silence!" Madam He snapped.
Second Madam Zhou was bewildered. "Aunt…?"
Madam He frowned. "Even if she was once a servant, she isn’t one now. What grudge do you hold against her?"
Second Madam Zhou insisted, "When she worked in our household, she was lazy and ignorant, currying favor with the high and stepping on the low. My mother was furious, but our family has always been lenient, so we never punished her. Who knows what tricks she used to marry Jiang Xian? The Jiangs are, after all, our maternal relatives. That’s why I was so angry."
Madam He remained skeptical. "You’re lying again. When your elder sister married, your mother wrote to praise the girl I recommended."
"Everyone else worked hard—except her!" Second Madam Zhou quickly countered.
Madam He frowned deeply before finally saying, "I never imagined such enmity existed between us. In that case, we must avoid provoking her. Her husband is now a judge in this prefecture, and she’s affiliated with the powerful Wei Family. Why make an enemy of her? Keep this to yourself—don’t spread it further."
Second Madam Zhou had no choice but to agree.
Yet she couldn’t suppress her resentment. Why should that lowborn wretch live better than her? Today, so many had fawned over Jin Niang, while her own Zhou Family, with generations of officials, had been relegated to the lowest seats. The injustice gnawed at her.
Little did she know Jin Niang’s retaliation would come so swiftly!
The Song Penal Code strictly prohibited compound interest, decreeing, "Those who lend goods or money must not charge more than four percent monthly interest, and total interest must never exceed the principal, no matter the duration." Yet Second Madam Zhou, strapped for cash and lacking other income, had once invested in raw silk after seeing others profit—only to lose everything.
After that, she dared not risk her money again. Instead, she secretly lent it out at exorbitant rates—after all, many did, even her mother-in-law. Countless officials engaged in the practice.
But she never expected her loan-sharking would be exposed when a victim accused her of driving the Sun Family of the Western Hills to ruin through usury.
According to the Song Penal Code, she faced twenty lashes and a month in the cangue.
Fortunately, though exasperated, Madam He arranged for her son and daughter-in-law to flee overnight. With the authorities unable to apprehend them, Jiang Xian persuaded Judge Dong to issue a warrant for their arrest.
Crammed inside a stifling boat cabin, Second Madam Zhou sobbed wretchedly. Now she was a fugitive. Her daughter’s marriage prospects were ruined. They could never show their faces in public again—condemned to a life in shadows.
He Third Son muttered, "Who could have leaked this? Why didn’t Jiang Sixteenth help us?"
"Right…" At the mention of Jiang Sixteenth, Second Madam Zhou felt a twinge of guilt.
As they spoke, a wave rocked the boat, and He Third Son sighed gloomily. "From now on, we’ll never see daylight again." Second Madam Zhou wept bitterly. Why was she so unlucky? She hadn’t even had time to expose that servant’s true identity before disaster struck.
…
After the New Year festivities, the girls’ school resumed classes. Jin Niang, having received fine fabrics as seasonal gifts, summoned a tailor to make new clothes—especially for Sister Jun, who was growing fast and needed more outfits.
Tailors and embroiderers differ in their crafts—tailors specialize in making garments. Jin Niang commissioned one to make five outfits for Sister Jun, four for Brother Ning, and two each for herself and Jiang Xian, totaling thirteen pieces for a fee of three taels and five mace.
The tailor took the payment and enlisted several others to help with the sewing. Within just two or three days, all the clothes were finished.
Jin Niang hadn’t expected Jiang Xian to have been keeping an eye on Second Madam Zhou since learning of her schemes, nor had she imagined that a woman with a dowry worth tens of thousands would still be unsatisfied, resorting to usury. Still, it was a relief to see karma catch up to her, eliminating a lurking threat. After all, no one wants someone watching their every move, waiting for a chance to harm them.
Just as the clothes were being distributed to each household, Dou Yuan arrived.
Jin Niang greeted her with a smile. "What brings you here at this hour?"
Though young, Dou Yuan was often occupied, so despite living across from each other, they rarely met. Seeing her silent, Jin Niang pressed gently, "Is something wrong? Whatever it is, tell me. I’ll help if I can."
"It’s nothing much. My sister-in-law, the third wife, is pregnant. I entered this household before her, yet I’ve had no such fortune." Dou Yuan sighed, resting a hand on her belly.
Jin Niang understood this feeling well. Even with a son and daughter of her own, Mother Fang still urged her to have another, fearing the fragility of children in these times. Rumor had it that Lady Wu, though outwardly composed, had grown frail from grief.
So Jin Niang reassured her, "Your cycles are regular, and there’s nothing wrong with your health. Pregnancy will come in time."
"But Cousin, my husband is leaving soon for the Southern Academy. What am I to do then?" Dou Yuan was at a loss. Even the healthiest body couldn’t conceive without a man present.
Jin Niang chuckled. "Then you must make the most of his time before he goes. How else would a child come about?"
At this, Dou Yuan’s eyes welled up. "Cousin, the truth is... he’s in love with someone else. I only learned after marrying him."
A white moonlight?
Jin Niang was taken aback. "How did this happen? What of this girl? Is she married?"
"Not yet. She’s in mourning for her mother. My husband treats me with respect, and I shouldn’t complain—I ought to be more gracious. But seeing him with her, I realized he’s capable of so much more. He’s not the clueless man I know." Dou Yuan covered her face.
Her parents’ marriage had been unhappy, and now history repeated itself with her.
Jin Niang squeezed her shoulders. "Oh, you silly girl. Think about it—he married you and calls you his wife. Doesn’t that prove she means little to him? As the saying goes, happiness is what you make of it. Have faith in yourself. If anything, I pity that girl. Your husband may pine for her, but you hold his name and wealth."
This was why Jin Niang had admired Jiang Xian. Though born into a declining noble family, he’d accepted his circumstances without pretense.
Dou Yuan’s frown softened. "You’re right, Cousin. I do feel sorry for Miss Yang. She and my husband share a deep understanding, and she’s so refined. It’s tragic how fate kept them apart."
Ancient marriages were anything but free. Lovers torn apart—such tales never failed to stir the heart.
But Jin Niang’s voice turned firm. "That’s not your burden to bear. Don’t foolishly sympathize and let your guard down."
If this "white moonlight" ever entered the household, where would Dou Yuan stand? The Zhen family surely knew of Miss Yang but favored Dou Yuan for her higher status.
Dou Yuan brightened. "Don’t worry, Cousin. I won’t."
"Good girl. Stay strong. If anything troubles you, come to us. Remember, your status protects you. He’d still have to dutifully attend to you." Jin Niang knew that even in these times, men couldn’t take concubines lightly—many families followed the rule of "no concubines before forty without an heir."
With less than three years of marriage, the Zhen family wouldn’t dare act rashly.
Dou Yuan nodded, smiling. "You’re so kind to me, Cousin. Talking to you always lifts my spirits."
"I’d have many suggestions, but you’ve lived with the Zhens long enough to know their ways. Just remember: I’m your support. Whatever you need, if it’s mine to give, it’s yours." Jin Niang even considered gifting her a seductive robe but hesitated, knowing Dou Yuan’s reputation might suffer—what worked for her and Jiang Xian might not suit others.
After more small talk, Dou Yuan left. Back home, Madam Zhen summoned her.
"Your sister-in-law’s brother will study at the prefectural school and stay with us. Prepare a guest room," Madam Zhen instructed warmly.
The widowed sister-in-law was highly respected, receiving extra allowances, and her family was treated with equal care. Dou Yuan obliged cheerfully. "Of course. I’ll see to it at once."
As a household manager, her time was never her own. By evening, she finally retired to her quarters.
Seated for dinner—her favorites, as the servants knew well—Dou Yuan reflected on her husband. Her cousin was right: as the Zhen family’s future matriarch, with her hefty dowry and control over household finances, even if her husband disliked her, propriety bound him to her. The pitiable one wasn’t her.
Banishing self-pity, she told her maid, "Take a bowl of this soup to the study."
Let him love whom he wished—he’d still honor their vows.
Sure enough, Second Master Zhen soon appeared. As Dou Yuan removed her hairpins, she mentioned, "You’ll leave for the Southern Academy soon. The river’s still frozen, so you’ll have to travel by land. I asked Cousin—Jin Niang said the Wei Family is sending a convoy to Luoyang for peonies. Would you like to join them?"
Second Master Zhen brightened. "Traveling with the Wei Family would be ideal."
The roads were perilous; even officials’ sons risked robbery or worse. Still, he turned to Dou Yuan. "Thank you for managing things while I’m away."
Knowing that her efforts were recognized, Dou Yuan felt less aggrieved. She glanced at him and said, "If we're speaking of troubles, indeed all matters, big and small, fall on my shoulders. But since I manage the household, these are my responsibilities. Now that Third Sister-in-law is with child, and I have no experience in childbirth myself, I fear making mistakes or unknowingly violating taboos. So, I must still seek guidance from my cousin's wife."
How could the astute Second Master Zhen fail to grasp her implication? For a woman, descendants were ultimately the most important.
Leaving aside the amorous activities of the couple behind their embroidered bed curtains, over on the other side, Jin Niang was sharing a cup of wine with Jiang Xian. She had rarely indulged in alcohol before, but lately, she had taken to drinking a little before bed to improve her sleep. Thus, she often warmed some wine for herself.
"My lady, the Second Madam Zhou and her husband have long since faded into obscurity. You can rest easy now," Jiang Xian said with a smile.
Jin Niang nodded. "Indeed, she brought it upon herself. But the same applies to us—if we conduct ourselves with integrity, others will find it hard to fault us."
Jiang Xian agreed, then added, "It's possible Madam He might still write to the Zhou Family, asking them to intervene on her behalf."
That was likely. The Zhou matriarch had spent her whole life exhausting herself for her children, even arranging her granddaughter’s marriage early on. Unfortunately, Second Madam Zhou had squandered her advantages.
Fearing Jiang Xian might soften, Jin Niang brought up an old matter: "Back when we were about to be betrothed, I once visited the Jiang residence. Whether by design or accident, someone made sure I overheard near the rock garden that you favored male companions. Thankfully, I knew better—the first time we met, you couldn’t take your eyes off me, eager to approach yet restraining yourself. That’s how I knew the rumors were false."
"What? I thought the Zhou Family only slandered you to me!" Jiang Xian then revealed what he had heard—that Jin Niang’s slenderness was due to a miscarriage.
Originally planning to sleep peacefully, the two ended up cursing the Zhou Family half the night after uncovering the truth.
By the time Madam Zhou received Madam He’s letter, a month had passed. Lord Zhou was now advanced in years, nearly sixty. Upon reading the letter, Madam Zhou nearly fainted. "Isn’t Jiang Xian stationed in Daming Prefecture? How could he allow such a thing to happen?"
Now she regretted marrying her daughter into the He Family. Back then, she had thought it a perfect match—her nephew He Sanlang was handsome, and her sister was good-natured. But the He Family had proven useless, and He Sanlang was utterly incompetent, refusing to take the proper path. Now, her daughter’s affairs couldn’t even be kept under wraps—truly pathetic.
With that, she summoned Third Madam Zhou to discuss the matter. Once, she had complained about the crowded household, but now only this stepdaughter and a young stepson remained by her side. The boy was too young to rely on, leaving only Third Madam Zhou, for whom she had secured a good marriage.
After hearing the situation, Third Madam Zhou immediately consulted her husband, Jiang Fang, and the two wrote to Jiang Xian, asking him to mediate. Jiang Xian scoffed and shelved the letter without another thought.
Madam He was at her wits' end. When even Dou Yuan wasn’t invited to Madam Zhen’s birthday celebration in the third month, it was a clear bad omen.
Yet the He Family’s troubles eventually passed. Jin Niang dressed her daughter in new clothes, and together they attended Madam Zhen’s birthday banquet, returning only after the feast. Back home, Jin Niang resumed embroidering a peach blossom screen, ensuring her skills stayed sharp.
Her daughter, Sister Jun, now eight, practiced cutting fabric at a nearby table—a foundational skill she had to master. Jin Niang didn’t coddle her. "Follow the measurements exactly. Don’t cut haphazardly, understand?"
"Mother, I know. Did you know my needlework is the best in school? Even Madam Shen praised my solid basics. Now we’re learning incense-making and mounting—Madam Shen knows so much!" Sister Jun had initially struggled to adjust to the Wei Family’s school but now loved studying.
Still, she sighed. "Mother, the eldest Wei sister won’t be joining us in the study soon—she’s been betrothed."
Jin Niang frowned. "Betrothal doesn’t mean immediate marriage. Why can’t she attend the girls’ school?"
It wasn’t as if she’d be confined beyond the inner gates—there was no need for such restrictions.
Sister Jun shook her head. "I don’t know why either."
"Well, children wouldn’t understand such things. But you must focus on your studies. Mounting is a valuable skill—there are specialized shops for it now. Sometimes, I even ask your father to handle my embroidery mounting." Jin Niang wanted her daughter to learn as much as possible before marriage, lest she be consumed by domestic trivialities.
Couples like her and Jiang Xian, who maintained their independence, were rare.
After finishing their needlework, Jin Niang read while Sister Jun retired to her room with a book. Their household seldom hosted musicians or frequent guests, so peace reigned, allowing them to concentrate.
Children often rebelled in their teens, especially those lacking discipline. Jiang Xian himself admitted he’d been argumentative at twelve or thirteen.
In another matter, the bride of Madam Qian’s son had married from afar, so the groom’s side arranged for a "complete happiness woman" (a matron symbolizing marital bliss) on her behalf. Jin Niang played this role, and Madam Qian didn’t let her labor go unrewarded—she gifted her a crystal bracelet from Dali, pearl-and-gem earrings, two pomegranate-patterned skirts, brocade with paired magpies and peonies, two bolts of fine white silk from Zizhou, and a crate of tea cakes.
Naturally, Jin Niang dressed the part—gold headpiece, luxurious robes, a crystal necklace, and gemstone rings, adding luster to Madam Qian’s event.
Her familiarity with the rituals surpassed even the professional matchmakers, earning admiration.
Jin Niang silently thanked her mother-in-law for setting an example—otherwise, she might never have become a "complete happiness woman."
She stored the gifts carefully and even showed Jiang Xian. "Look, our treasury has new treasures. In a few years, when we buy a larger estate, these can serve as collateral if funds fall short."
"My lady is truly remarkable," Jiang Xian could only applaud.
Jin Niang smiled without reply. The next day, she sent Madam Wei a fully embroidered peony gown. "Though peonies aren’t in season yet, I thought you might wear this in advance."
Gilded treasures easily invite gossip, and Madam Wei has seen every luxury—what one considers precious might not catch her eye. Besides, Jin Niang didn’t truly need the Wei Family’s assistance, so gifting embroidered garments was the most fitting choice.
Madam Wei usually dismissed clothing offered by subordinates as too commonplace, but the set Jin Niang presented today was breathtaking: a jade-blue bodice adorned with hexagonal ruyi patterns, paired with a sapphire skirt embroidered with peonies in subtle relief, layered under an orange tunic and topped with an outer robe featuring a standing collar fully edged with an exquisite peony motif.
"Third Aunt’s craftsmanship is truly remarkable," even Madam Wei’s maidservant praised.
Jin Niang simply smiled. "As long as Sister-in-law likes it."
She genuinely sought nothing in return. The Wei Family’s alliance through marriage had become her refuge, and this gesture was her way of expressing gratitude.
Madam Wei half-expected Jin Niang to make some request—after all, most who brought gifts sought either wealth or influence. Yet Jin Niang left without a word. Puzzled, Madam Wei sent someone to investigate: "Has Jiang Xian encountered any difficulties lately?"
The report came back: "Not at all. Magistrate Jiang cracked a major case—he’s hailed as a rising star among young talents."
Could it be, Madam Wei wondered, that Jin Niang truly treats us as family?
Kinship, after all, is bound by blood but sustained by effort. Without nurturing, ties fray. Jin Niang’s approach was delicate—visiting sparingly, yet each interaction left just the right impression, neither burdensome nor forgettable.
Like tending to flowers: regular care is essential, yet drowning them does no good.
