Returning from the eastern side chamber to the rear quarters, she couldn’t stop thinking about how to avoid being sent to the Aunt’s household. Feigning illness was out of the question—it would waste time, and wasted time meant docked wages. Besides, it wasn’t a real solution. Framing someone else was even worse; everyone in the embroidery workshop was just trying to make a living, and stirring up trouble would set a terrible precedent.
The only way, then, was to improve her needlework. Her skills were decent, but she was still far behind Madam Chen. To reach that level, she’d need to study floral patterns diligently, think deeply, and practice relentlessly.
For someone with true skill, even flowers could bloom from cracks in stone.
For people like her—without connections, influence, or beauty—the only thing to rely on was ability. If she truly excelled, even if she were sent to the Aunt’s household, Madam Jiang would recall her when the time came to embroider bridal pieces for her daughter.
With this thought, her heart felt lighter.
Jin Niang wondered if she should warn the others but quickly dismissed the idea. In her current position, she could barely protect herself. Speaking up would only expose Yan Hong’s scheme.
As soon as she stepped inside, she saw Qin Shuang’er surrounded by a crowd. Upon asking, Jin Niang learned that Second Madam had commissioned her to embroider a scene of "Three Mothers Teaching a Child." Jiang Shanjie added, "Second Madam is so generous—she paid five hundred coins upfront!"
Five hundred coins—that was half a month’s wages.
Jin Niang mused that there would always be people like this—ones who moved faster, thought quicker, and already had an escape route planned. Qin Shuang’er had secured her safety by aligning with Second Madam, who was now pregnant in middle age. The notoriously philandering Second Master was doting on her, and with Qin Shuang’er working for Second Madam, even Madam Jiang couldn’t easily reassign her.
But that was just how things were—some had the knack for it. Jin Niang stepped forward and congratulated her. "Perfect timing—I’ll offer these golden oranges as a gift. May all your wishes come true."
Qin Shuang’er smiled. "Thank you! I was just lucky. Your skills are excellent too—if Second Madam asks, I’ll be sure to mention you."
"Oh, I’d be grateful!" Jin Niang knew full well Qin Shuang’er wouldn’t actually praise her to Second Madam. In their trade, peers were rivals—just as Jin Niang would never recommend Qin Shuang’er to anyone else.
Qin Shuang’er quietly sighed in relief. Unlike Jin Niang, who rarely stepped out except to deliver measurements or finished garments, she burned through lamp oil the fastest—spending her days building connections and her nights catching up on work. This opportunity had come from one of those connections.
After hearing that Fang Qiaolian had secured a godmother, Qin Shuang’er had done the same. But unlike others, she had money—ten strings of cash from her mother when she left home, plus two taels and a string of coins saved during her first months at the Zhou Mansion. She’d spent one string to secure a godmother, who then devised the plan to approach Second Madam. Qin Shuang’er had even gifted her hidden fabric scraps as tribute.
But she’d never reveal these details to anyone.
Compared to Qin Shuang’er and Jin Niang, who had their own strategies, Fang Qiaolian fell ill the next day with a high fever, claiming it was a chill. Jin Niang saw through it but still tended to her, even fetching hot tea from the neighboring pantry.
"Last time, Lan Xue said ginger tea helps with chills—drink it, sweat it out, and you’ll recover. I spent a few coins to get this for you. Drink it when you can."
Everyone was desperate to avoid being sent to the Aunt’s household, but in ancient times, a chill was no joke—it could be deadly. Maids like them couldn’t easily summon physicians, and if they fell seriously ill, they might even be sent away to recover.
Fang Qiaolian sipped the tea, warmth spreading through her body. She wanted to say something, but her lips only trembled silently.
Only when Jin Niang turned to leave did she murmur, "Thank you."
While the other three had already devised plans, Jiang Shanjie only learned of the situation after the New Year, through a fellow villager working as a servant in the third household.
She knew the Aunt had a terrible reputation—harsh and miserly with servants. If sent there, who knew what would become of her?
Back in the embroidery room, Madam Chen shot her a reproachful look. "Shanjie, where have you been wandering? Look at Jin Niang—she saw I was overwhelmed and took the initiative to make two headbands for Madam Jiang. Second Master Cun’s betrothal is approaching, and I’m swamped with his clothes and shoes. Fang Qiaolian just recovered and is already helping, yet you—"
Qin Shuang’er, now busy with Second Madam’s commission, ignored the scolding entirely.
Jiang Shanjie glanced at the others. Jin Niang was skilled and diligent—the Aunt would surely pick her. She had nothing to worry about.
Madam Jiang thought the same. "Back when she was unmarried and spoiled by the old madam, that sister-in-law of mine even tried to take over household management. Now that her husband’s family has fallen on hard times, she returns to her maiden home and still tries to snatch what’s mine."
If the Aunt demanded someone, Madam Jiang would refuse—unless the old madam intervened.
Yan Hong, though friendly with Jin Niang, couldn’t openly advocate for her. "Delaying won’t solve anything. Last time you didn’t send anyone, hoping she’d take the hint, but now she’s brought it up again. Madam, you must decide soon."
Madam Jiang realized her sister-in-law had grown clever—instead of making a scene, she’d gone straight to the old madam to plead her case, making refusal impossible. In the past, a tantrum wouldn’t have fazed her, but now, with her son’s betrothal to the daughter of the Minister of Justice at stake, the slightest scandal could ruin everything.
Why else would sister-in-law Madam Wu volunteer to prepare the Aunt’s birthday celebration? To keep her happy and prevent her from sulking during this critical time. Yet the Aunt mistook their caution for fear.
"Which maid should we send?"
Yan Hong knew this was a test. She chose her words carefully. "In my opinion, each has her strengths. When our young lady marries, we’ll need all hands for the embroidery. The few we have now won’t be enough."
"Exactly my thought." These maids were Madam Jiang’s personal purchases—she wouldn’t give any away lightly.
Yan Hong continued, "Qin Shuang’er is already working for Second Madam—it wouldn’t be right to recall her."
Madam Jiang nodded. "Agreed."
"As for Jin Niang, her needlework is swift and flawless. She never slacks. We should keep her for our young lady."
"True. The velvet headband she made me was lovely. What about the other two?"
Yan Hong considered. "One just recovered from illness. That leaves Jiang Shanjie—she specializes in landscapes, perfect for men’s robes with pavilions and mountain scenes."
She laid out all the pros and cons plainly, and after a brief moment of consideration, Madam Jiang said, "Then let’s send Jiang Shanjie over. We can’t send someone who’s caught a cold—otherwise, the Aunt will think I’m deliberately slighting her, and who knows how much trouble that might stir up."
The news quickly reached the sewing room through Yan Hong, who said to Madam Chen, "The Aunt will be staying at our Zhou Mansion from now on. The old madam mentioned their clothes aren’t fully prepared, so she wants a seamstress sent over. The First Madam suggested Jiang Shanjie, saying she’s meticulous and good-tempered."
Though Madam Chen had just praised Jiang Shanjie earlier, she now felt a pang of worry for her. After all, the Aunt was known to be tight-fisted and harsh—no one wanted to serve such a mistress.
But servants must obey their masters. Madam Chen entered the sewing room, where everyone was busy at work. Though her heart ached, she steeled herself and called Jiang Shanjie out. Moments later, Jiang Shanjie returned looking utterly dejected, as if on the verge of tears.
Jin Niang glanced up, her heart heavy with sympathy. There was an unspoken sense of shared fate—when one suffered, others felt it too.
Two maids helped carry Jiang Shanjie’s bedding and belongings to the Aunt’s quarters. Jin Niang and the others each gave her a handkerchief as a parting gift, comforting her with the hope that she’d return soon.
"Please put in a good word for me with Madam Chen," Jiang Shanjie pleaded.
Jin Niang reassured her, "Don’t worry, we will."
Little did they know, when Jiang Shanjie went to pay her respects to the Aunt, she was unexpectedly rewarded with a plate of treats and treated with rare kindness. Mei Pan'er, standing nearby, finally relaxed. Her mother had clearly demanded the most skilled seamstress, yet when someone else arrived instead of Jin Niang, her mother hadn’t flown into a rage.
The Aunt, Madam Zhou, pulled her daughter aside and said earnestly, "In this Zhou Mansion, everyone has a pair of judgmental eyes. If I were weak and easily bullied, they’d never take my needs seriously. I knew your eldest aunt wouldn’t willingly give up a good maid. If I’d asked outright, she’d have found me bothersome. So I used your grandmother’s authority to pretend I wanted the best, knowing she’d palm off someone lesser on me—and then feel guilty about it. By holding back my displeasure, I even came off as gracious. You’re too soft-hearted, but in this world, unless you’re flawless forever, the moment you slip up, people will blame you."
"So let me teach you this: it’s better to be known as someone hard to please. That way, when you do something kind, people will actually appreciate it."
