After the Dragon Boat Festival, Dou Yuan came over, and Jin Niang promptly arranged for a physician to visit. After a thorough examination behind a curtain, it was confirmed that she was indeed three months pregnant.
The physician listed some dos and don’ts, which Jin Niang carefully noted down. After paying the consultation fee, she turned to Dou Yuan, who was already overjoyed to the point of speechlessness, and teased, "Look at you—so happy you’ve lost your wits, haven’t you?"
Dou Yuan had found a safe haven in Jin Niang’s home, where she could discreetly handle matters she didn’t want others to know about, and it was far more convenient. Her menstrual cycle had always been irregular, and when she missed two periods, her maidservant suggested she might be with child. But she hesitated to call a physician, fearing it might turn out to be a false alarm and invite ridicule.
Fortunately, her cousin-in-law Jin Niang immediately arranged for a doctor. Yet, after the confirmation, Dou Yuan felt a wave of uncertainty.
Jin Niang advised, "Now that you’re carrying a child, you must be mindful of your diet. Don’t overexert yourself. Also, don’t overindulge in tonics or eat too much—if the baby grows too large, it could lead to a difficult birth."
Such advice was only shared with those closest to her. Who else would speak so frankly?
Dou Yuan listened attentively, committing each point to memory, and gradually felt more at ease.
With the pregnancy confirmed, Dou Yuan returned home and had the news spread. Lady Zhen also summoned a physician to verify it, and naturally, she was overjoyed. Meanwhile, Jin Niang, already informed in advance, had Minzhi prepare a patchwork baby gown—something their embroidery shop had made before. Jin Niang herself crafted flat shoes for Dou Yuan, hand-pasting the uppers, and even sewed a pregnancy pillow. As for the tonics, there was no need to elaborate.
Even a birth mother might not have been so meticulous. Dou Yuan finally understood why her own mother had always held Jin Niang and her husband in such high regard. Truly, one generation plants the trees, and another enjoys the shade.
Even her mother-in-law, due to Jin Niang living right across the street, couldn’t easily pressure her.
Zhuang Shi watched with envy. Her own family had visited, but their care had been far less thoughtful—all they did was harp on the importance of bearing a son, adding to her stress. In the end, she spent twenty taels of silver asking a nun at the temple to pray for her.
Once Dou Yuan’s affairs were settled, Jin Niang focused on sewing a quilt cover. In the afternoon, she spent an hour memorizing poetry and studying literary allusions. Brother Ning and Sister Jun, after finishing their lessons, were free to do as they pleased.
Sister Jun, with the Qixi Festival approaching, busied herself with needlework, while Brother Ning went to the backyard garden to practice archery and jump rope.
"Sister Jun," Jin Niang said as she finished embroidering a flower, "Ying pierced your ears last winter when it snowed, and you’ve been wearing those studs ever since. Now that your ears have healed, I’ll give you a pair of earrings." She rummaged through her jewelry box and handed her a delicate pair of golden lotus earrings.
A young girl only needed to be neat and tidy on ordinary days, but dressing up for special occasions would give her more confidence.
Sister Jun happily handed them to Jiaoxing to put away, but before she could say anything, Ruyan was announced at the door. Jin Niang invited her in. Since Ruyan’s teahouse opened last year, her business had flourished—she had capital, skill, and powerful backing.
Jin Niang wondered what had brought her here in such a hurry.
As Ruyan entered and made to bow, Jin Niang waved her off with a smile. "No need for formalities. You’ve never come in such a rush before—has something happened?"
Ruyan’s voice trembled slightly as she spoke. "I always thought learning medicine and forensic skills would be useless, but today, I nearly got entangled in a murder case."
A regular customer at her teahouse had collapsed and died shortly after drinking tea at noon. His family stormed in, demanding answers. Ruyan examined the body and immediately recognized the time of death and even the type of poison involved. Refusing to be intimidated, she reported it to the authorities herself, resolving the matter.
Jin Niang handed her a cup of tea. "Calm yourself. Such incidents are rare in business. Now that you’ve proven you can handle yourself, no one will dare try to extort you so easily."
But Ruyan hadn’t come just for that. "One of my patrons used to run a lodging house in Daming Prefecture, but he lacked capital. We formed a partnership—he holds seven shares, and I hold three. I invested fifteen thousand taels in total."
"Never flaunt wealth," Jin Niang cautioned softly.
Ruyan smiled. "I’ve taken your advice to heart, madam. But I wanted to offer you one of my shares. Please don’t refuse—hear me out. I’ve been alone here, and it’s only because of your protection that I’ve thrived. You even sent me to study medicine and forensics—"
"Ruyan, we’ve been stationed here for nearly a year. In two more years, we’ll likely be transferred elsewhere, and I may not be able to shield you then." Jin Niang eyed the money, seeing only trouble.
But Ruyan insisted, "Even if you’re not here, the Wei family remains. Truthfully, it’s not just about connections. You’ve shown me such kindness, and I’ve never repaid you. It weighs on my conscience."
Jin Niang understood—debts of gratitude were hard to bear. She had rescued Ruyan, supported her for years, and continued to offer protection without asking for anything in return.
Such a tremendous favor, if settled with money, would mean she could never leverage it in the future.
Relenting, Jin Niang finally accepted.
The share amounted to five thousand taels, with no involvement in management—only annual dividends.
She discussed it with Jiang Xian, asking him to investigate first. After his thorough checks, he agreed. Jin Niang explained, "Ruyan isn’t like Lady Gu, who sought pure protection and to whom I owe a debt of gratitude—I couldn’t take her money. But if I refused Ruyan, she’d only grow more anxious. She likely knows about my ties to the Zhen and Wei families. Even after I leave, she can still rely on my connections."
With the Zhen and Wei families as guarantors, Ruyan could run her business in Daming Prefecture for thirty years without worry.
"She’s shrewd," Jiang Xian remarked. "If she truly wanted to repay you, why wait until now? Only after you’ve linked up with the Weis does she come running."
Jin Niang quickly defended her. "She’s not like that. Honestly, given her hardships, it’s natural for her to be cautious. Since I’ve accepted the share, I’ll introduce her to Cousin Dou and Lady Wei. That way, I won’t have failed her."
Jiang Xian knew his wife disliked owing others, so he left it to her. It struck him as odd—those who schemed to squeeze money from others rarely got much, yet Jin Niang, who shied away from accepting gifts, always found wealth flowing to her effortlessly.
During Dou Yuan’s pregnancy, Jin Niang arranged for Ruyan to check her pulse regularly and even sent peony-shaped pastries to the Wei family on her behalf.
Beyond that, Ruyan’s lodging business required fewer bribes after Jiang Xian personally smoothed things over with the right connections.
By the sixth month, Jiang Xian was away on official duty. Ever since Jin Niang told him about Judge Di Renjie, he had emulated the legendary official, rigorously investigating cases and overturning over twenty wrongful convictions. This time, he set out again to resolve another case.
"Who’s accompanying him?" Jin Niang asked.
Jiang Xian said, "Aside from Advisor Song and two attendants, there are also a few clerks from the judicial office."
Jin Niang replied, "How about sending each of them a jug of wine and a roast goose?"
"As you wish, my dear." Jiang Xian thought to himself that his wife had always been generous, never stinting on kindness to others, which was one reason he got along so well with his subordinates.
Jin Niang had Chen Xiaolang arrange the gifts for delivery, while she picked out two gauze robes and a cloak, then packed a small bundle for her husband. "Outer garments shouldn't be changed daily, but I've prepared ten pairs of undergarments—one for each day—and socks too."
Once they entered the inner chamber, Jiang Xian suddenly embraced his wife from behind. "Come with me..."
Family members, of course, couldn't tag along on official business—it wouldn't be professional. But Jin Niang knew her husband was just being affectionate. She smiled softly and teased, "Alright, then I'll shrink myself down and cling to your chest."
The two lingered in their sweet moment until Brother Ning returned from school and interrupted them.
Seeing the pile of luggage on the table, Brother Ning asked, "Mother, where are we going? Why so much baggage?"
"Your father is traveling for official duties," Jin Niang explained with a smile.
Brother Ning clenched his fists. "I'll eat well and grow strong so I can help Father fight bad guys in the future!"
"Of course! Brothers hunt tigers together, and fathers and sons stand side by side in battle." Both Jin Niang and Jiang Xian laughed.
Jiang Xian left that very night—he was a man who threw himself wholeheartedly into his work. Jin Niang, left alone, found herself unusually restless. She was much happier in Daming Prefecture than she had been in Wu County. Back then, living among so many officials' wives had felt stifling. Now, she was more familiar with social etiquette and had made a few friends, which lifted her spirits immensely.
The next morning, as she busied herself with household chores and needlework, a letter arrived from Wu County. It was from Gu Qingru, who wrote that she and He Yanei were deeply in love after their marriage and were already expecting a child. However, her former husband, Shang Qilang, had learned of her remarriage and began harassing her. To avoid further trouble, she and He Yanei had returned to his family's hometown in Chen County. She asked Jin Niang to send any future correspondence there.
Jin Niang was exasperated. "Shang Qilang divorced Sister Gu, and now that both have remarried, why does he act as if she wronged him? Does he think only he’s allowed to remarry while others can’t?"
Nanny Fang fanned herself and remarked, "At least He Yanei treats Lady Gu well—that’s what matters most. Shang Qilang is just greedy, thinking Lady Gu would wait for him in Pingjiang so he could have his cake and eat it too."
"Tsk, tsk. Good thing Sister Gu found happiness—let him stew in regret." The thought gave Jin Niang some satisfaction.
Across the street, Dou Yuan also received a letter from Zhen Erlang. When she had been pregnant earlier, Zhen Furen had sent him word. To her surprise, he replied, expressing joy at the news and urging her to take care of herself.
But Dou Yuan no longer felt the same flutter of emotions. In the past, such a letter would have thrilled her, but now it left her indifferent. She was young and had once yearned for romance—her husband had fallen for her at first sight. Yet reality had shown her that even if he became an official, she, as his wife, would be confined to this household for life.
When she noticed the poorly concealed envy in Miss Yang’s eyes, Dou Yuan felt no pride. What was so enviable about a marriage where husband and wife could barely be together? And yet, many still coveted her life.
A maid from Zhen Furen’s household entered and announced, "Madam, the judicial officer’s wife has sent two bolts of qingrong gauze. She says the fabric isn’t the finest, but the colors—one in pale green-yellow, the other in crabapple red—are exquisite for headscarves or skirts, so she thought to gift them."
"How thoughtful of her. Reward the messenger," Zhen Furen said, admiring the translucent hues.
Miss Yang mused that since Jiang Xian was Dou Yuan’s cousin, his wife’s frequent gifts ensured Zhen Furen treated her daughter-in-law well—if only to reciprocate the kindness.
Having family support truly made a difference.
Dou Yuan, hearing of Jin Niang’s gift, felt grateful. Her cousin-in-law always had her back, subtly strengthening her position.
The summer heat was relentless, and drought plagued the fields. Jin Niang distributed summer cloth to the servants, cutting lengths for each. Minzhi, skilled in needlework, found herself swamped—people offered goods or money in exchange for her tailoring. While she usually only sewed for the four masters, outsiders paid extra for her services.
Of course, some sought other seamstresses—Nanny Fang went to the widow next door, while Ying hired Tailor Huang.
But Minzhi’s earnings were substantial. Her husband, Chen Xiaolang, teased, "You’re outearning me now."
"Don’t exaggerate. You earn plenty running errands for Madam," Minzhi laughed.
United in their efforts, the couple worked hard for a better life. Minzhi thought of her aunt, who had served the Jiang family her whole life, only to be cast out when the household downsized. Having known no other life, she had no skills to survive and died in poverty.
Jin Niang also stocked up on mung beans, planning to have Juxiang make cooling soup once summer peaked.
In the evening, Sister Jun returned from school, radiant after her horseback riding lesson. "Elder Sister Ji isn’t learning polo—she thinks it’s too messy. But I feel it’d be a waste not to, after spending so much on lessons."
"That Miss Ji does seem refined. Her absence just means more attention for you. Freshen up first, then join me for needlework. The Qixiao Festival is in half a month—let’s aim for top three, if not first." Jin Niang gently stroked her daughter’s cheek.
Sister Jun nodded and retreated to her room, where Xi Qiu had maids prepare bathwater. Once refreshed, she returned to the main chamber for her mother’s sewing guidance.
"Mother, do you think I can win?" Sister Jun asked uncertainly.
"Just do your best. Even if you don’t succeed, your skills will have improved," Jin Niang reassured her.
"That’s true." Sister Jun understood.
As Jin Niang embroidered a peony-and-bird quilt cover, she wondered how Lady Ji’s festival preparations were coming along.
On the eve of Qixi, Jin Niang visited Madam Qian, a straightforward woman who had initially disapproved of her daughter-in-law’s background but later warmed to her, even gifting a chest of fine items for her room.
She was speaking to Jin Niang and Lady Lan: "I only hope she gives birth to a grandson—whether boy or girl, I’ll be thanking the Buddha."
"Why the hurry? They’ve only just married," Jin Niang said with a laugh.
Women in ancient times could never escape the topic of childbirth. Jin Niang quickly changed the subject, and Lady Lan chimed in, "Indeed, it’s still early. Your eldest son still has his studies, isn’t that a good thing?"
Lady Qian had two sons. The elder was tall and thin as a bamboo pole, though his literary talents were mediocre. The younger was plump and clever as a fox, but his cleverness wasn’t directed toward scholarly pursuits or officialdom—it was all about making money. The second son of the Dong family studied at the White Deer Grotto Academy. When he returned home, like Jin Niang, he had bought a quantity of gauze to resell. It was from him that Jin Niang had purchased twelve bolts of fine gossamer silk.
After some casual conversation, Lady Qian finally said, "Tomorrow is the Qixi Festival. I fear someone might use the occasion to elevate their own daughter’s reputation at the expense of others. Perhaps Sister Jun shouldn’t attend."
"It’s fine. She’s been preparing for this for a long time—how could I tell her not to go? Besides, whether her embroidery is good or not, everyone has eyes to judge for themselves," Jin Niang replied with a smile.
Sometimes, a little setback isn’t necessarily a bad thing for children. If they imagine the outside world as too perfect, the disappointment later might be even greater.
Lady Qian patted Jin Niang’s shoulder. "Your open-mindedness is admirable. After all, it’s just a gathering for the children—no need to take it too seriously."
"Mmm," Jin Niang agreed before taking her leave.
Unexpectedly, she happened to pass by the carriage of Lady Zhou the Fourth, who had rented a room at an inn. The journey from Guantao County to the prefectural city wasn’t short, so they had to arrive a day early.
Staying with Lady He would have been an option, but with the troubles in Lady He’s household, Lady Zhou the Fourth naturally didn’t want to impose. Fortunately, her two daughters were well-behaved, enduring the long carriage ride without complaint.
"Tomorrow will be better," Lady Zhou the Fourth reassured her daughters.
By the next evening, Jin Niang arrived at the Ji family with Sister Jun in tow. Nearly every family with daughters had dressed up for the occasion. Originally, the event was hosted by the prefect’s household, but now it was Lady Ji’s turn, with the elderly Madam Wang arriving early—clearly to lend her support.
Surprisingly, Lady Wu remained composed. When Jin Niang and the others arrived, she greeted them warmly.
"You’ve lost some weight," Lady Wu remarked to Jin Niang.
Jin Niang dabbed her forehead with a handkerchief. "I’ve been suffering from the summer heat. This year feels unusually scorching—I hardly dare step outside."
Fortunately, Lady Ji had spared no expense. Ice basins had been placed beneath the seats in the pavilion, and Jin Niang soon felt much cooler. She noticed that Lady Zhou the Fourth had also arrived. Though the journey from Guantao wasn’t terribly far, her presence here suggested she was now in Madam Wang’s good graces.
But today wasn’t about their rivalries—it was about the children.
Sister Jun, now eight years old, still had a touch of baby fat. Her hair was styled in three loops, adorned with two silk flowers, and her ears were decorated with lotus-shaped earrings. Her bright eyes and poised demeanor made her stand out.
Lady Ji had prepared an altar with offerings of fruits and dried goods. The girls gathered to pay respects to the Weaving Maiden. Afterward, musicians performed the "Song of Pleading for Skill," which the girls joined in singing. Only then did the real festivities begin.
The first competition was threading a seven-hole needle. The more holes one threaded, the more skill they were said to possess. The loser had to present a gift to the winner.
Each girl was given a table, with lanterns hung on either side. Jin Niang watched as Sister Jun, upon hearing the signal, swiftly began threading—her speed astonishing.
Environment shapes character. Jin Niang was never idle, and neither was Jiang Xian, so their daughter had little inclination to laze about. She was driven and diligent.
Before the time of a single incense stick had passed, a gong sounded. Some girls tried to sneak in an extra thread, while others looked crestfallen. Sister Jun, however, was confident. She had practiced countless times at home. Glancing at the second daughter of the Ji family—known for her needlework—she noted that even her best efforts today fell short.
If she won today, her mother would surely be proud.
But then Madam Wang announced, "The third daughter of the Ji family is the winner—she threaded the most." She held up the needle as proof.
Sister Jun stared in disbelief at the Ji family’s third daughter. Yet the evidence was undeniable. She swallowed her disappointment. Her mother had taught her to lose gracefully.
Perhaps the third daughter of the Ji family had practiced day and night. She must have worked harder.
Still, second place wasn’t so bad. With a smile, she presented her carefully prepared gift—a knotted cord she had made herself, adorned with a small jade bead bought with her own savings.
The Ji family’s third daughter was initially embarrassed—the winning needlework wasn’t even hers. But under Madam Wang’s praise and the shower of gifts, she couldn’t help but feel pleased.
Jin Niang observed everything with quiet satisfaction. Her daughter hadn’t lashed out or sulked in defeat. She beckoned Sister Jun over.
"You were amazing. I watched your little hands fly through the threads—I couldn’t have been prouder," Jin Niang said, stroking her daughter’s cheek.
Sister Jun rubbed the back of her head. "I thought I was the fastest. I should’ve been first."
"In my heart, you are," Jin Niang assured her.
Sister Jun’s eyes sparkled at her mother’s praise.
Holding her daughter close, Jin Niang cast a cool glance at Lady Ji. This move of hers was a mistake. Even in imperial examinations, if the top candidate was a commoner and the second a nobleman’s son, the title often went to the commoner—to avoid accusations of unfairness. Lady Ji thought she was being clever, but this would only breed resentment.
It was like an awards ceremony. When a truly skilled actor is passed over for someone undeserving, the public outcry is inevitable.
In the end, it would only harm everyone involved.
As for Madam Wang—if she remained aloof, people would respect her. But by meddling, she risked losing their regard.
She thought she was consolidating power. Last time, when Lady Ji mentioned needing a "blessed woman" for her niece’s wedding, Madam Wang had suggested, "Why not have Lady Sun do it? That way, they’ll grow closer."
Madame Ji had always been one to wear her emotions plainly. She glanced at Lady Zhou the Fourth and noticed that while the woman’s hair was adorned with gold and jade, her skirt was rather plain. In contrast, Jin Niang, seated beside her, wore a lavish gold-embroidered skirt and a golden headpiece, appearing far more elegant.
When Old Madame Wang spoke, Madame Ji quickly assented.
As for Lady Zhou the Fourth, she was well aware of how grudgingly Jiang Xian had handed out gifts to the bridal attendants in the past. Seeing this as a lucrative opportunity, she jokingly said to Old Madame Wang, "If such favorable occasions arise in the future, do remember to recommend me."
Old Madame Wang chuckled and playfully pointed at her. "Look at you, such a money-grubber."
Jin Niang thought to herself, How nice—first my daughter’s top honors are snatched away, and now even my side income is being eyed. Do I really seem so easy to bully? Since this is how you treat me, don’t blame me for what comes next.
