During the mourning period for the eldest master of the Zhou Family, the Zhou and Zhang families quietly arranged a marriage agreement, with the bride set to arrive next spring. The Zhou Family’s top priority was renovating Zhou Cunzhi’s new residence, so he temporarily moved into the western annex near the old matriarch’s quarters.
As the Dragon Boat Festival approached, the Zhou grand master, serving as the Chief Commissioner of the Bureau of Military Affairs and overseeing official promotions, found his doorstep bustling with visitors. When Jin Niang delivered the Five-Poison sachets and five-colored silk threads to the main household, the young ladies of the family were busy selecting fans. These fans were crafted from the finest damask, silk, and gauze, with handles often made of jade and surfaces embroidered with exquisite floral patterns.
"Madam, the Five-Poison sachets, pouches, and silk threads have been delivered," Jin Niang reported. Her life hadn’t changed much—bonuses were rare, and she mostly relied on her monthly wages.
Lv Ying took the items and waved her off. Jin Niang quickly departed, first reporting to the sewing room before heading to Sister-in-law Hu’s place. Sister-in-law Hu was a lifelong servant of the household, brought over from Madam Jiang’s maiden family. After years of marriage, she finally had a daughter, whom she doted on. The girl, Zhen'er, was frail and couldn’t work in the kitchen, so Sister-in-law Hu hoped she could learn a skill.
Thus, she secretly approached Jin Niang. Embroidery was Jin Niang’s livelihood, hard-earned over the years, and she was reluctant to take on an apprentice. But seeing Sister-in-law Hu’s earnest plea, she agreed to guide Zhen'er.
Zhen'er brightened at the sight of Jin Niang. "Jin Niang, what do you think of this flower I embroidered?"
She wasn’t a complete novice—she could thread a needle and mend clothes. Jin Niang was teaching her flat embroidery, the most common yet classic technique. Taking the embroidery hoop, Jin Niang examined it. "Not bad. There’s a gap here—you’ll need to fill it, but the needle should go in from the front."
"Alright, I understand," Zhen'er nodded.
Sister-in-law Hu brought over a bowl of sesame paste drink, Jin Niang’s favorite. Her glossy black hair was attributed to her love for this drink, though it hadn’t been affordable before. Once Sister-in-law Hu learned of her preference, she made sure to prepare it whenever Jin Niang visited.
As Jin Niang sipped the drink, Sister-in-law Hu presented a red plum-colored lacquered box filled with finely minced perilla leaves, calamus, and papaya, mixed with fragrant herbs. She smiled and said, "The zongzi are still boiling in the pot."
"I always end up benefiting from your generosity when I visit," Jin Niang laughed.
Sister-in-law Hu waved her off. "It’s nothing, just ordinary treats. Zhen'er says you teach her well—I’m endlessly grateful."
"A parent’s love knows no bounds. Don’t worry, as long as I’m with the Zhou Family, I’ll teach her properly." Jin Niang looked at Zhen'er, reminded of her own parents, who had also cherished her deeply.
Of course, though Jin Niang lived in the capital, she rarely ventured outside, so she relied on others for news. Madam Chen was out of the question—she worked for the Shu Embroidery Pavilion and wouldn’t take kindly to Jin Niang inquiring about unrelated matters.
But she couldn’t be entirely truthful with Sister-in-law Hu either. Instead, she asked, "Before we came to the Zhou Family, where did the First Lady and others have their clothes made? Their outfits were quite elegant."
"Brocade Pavilion! There are several major embroidery workshops in the capital, but Brocade Pavilion specializes in women’s attire—though their prices aren’t cheap. I remember the set Madam Lü wore when she was formally recognized as a concubine—guess how much it cost? A hundred strings of cash!" Sister-in-law Hu had joined the kitchen staff that year.
Jin Niang feigned disbelief. "Surely not! A hundred strings is a fortune—you must’ve misheard."
Sister-in-law Hu insisted, "How could I be wrong? It was because they spent so much on clothes that the First Lady brought you all in to cut costs."
"I’d love to see what made it so precious. Sister-in-law, I’m short on funds, but could you spare two hundred coins to buy me an embroidered piece—a pouch or handkerchief, whatever’s most popular and delicate? That way, I can refine my work. If I stand out, I might gain the masters’ favor, making it easier to recommend Zhen'er later." She wanted to study the Shu Embroidery Pavilion’s craftsmanship firsthand.
Large pieces were beyond her means, but small items were manageable.
Delighted by Jin Niang’s promise to help Zhen'er, Sister-in-law Hu eagerly agreed.
Having achieved her goal without raising suspicion, Jin Niang relaxed. After guiding Zhen'er to finish the flower, she left—only to run into Sister Shan outside.
The last time they’d met, Sister Shan had left in distress. Jin Niang had often worried about her, but since the Aunt resided near the third branch’s quarters, and their duties kept them mostly in the main household, she couldn’t visit freely. She occasionally asked Lan Xue for updates, as the tea servants delivering snacks to the old matriarch sometimes crossed paths with Sister Shan, who now attended the Aunt and Cousin Mei.
But Sister Shan was unrecognizable now—her once-pimpled face had cleared, her complexion brightened, and she wore a vibrant red vest, looking lively.
"Sister Shan!" Jin Niang called out.
Sister Shan smiled. "I serve Cousin Mei now. She treats us well—she even gave me loquat lung-cleansing drink to clear my skin."
Jin Niang sighed in relief. "That’s wonderful."
"Yes. The Aunt has had a hard time too. The old matriarch summoned a physician for her—apparently, she suffered from blood deficiency, excessive liver fire, and weak spleen and kidneys. She’s better now, though her temper still flares occasionally." Sister Shan even defended them.
But Jin Niang sensed something amiss. Wasn’t this a classic good cop, bad cop routine? The Aunt was a married daughter—once Cousin Mei wed, she’d have to rely on her husband, not her natal family, especially with the old matriarch aging. First, she’d tormented the servants; now, her daughter played the benevolent mistress. If Cousin Mei married, her mother might not remain in the family, but loyal maids would stay by her side.
So Jin Niang cautioned, "Even if Cousin Mei is kind, take care of yourself first. A servant’s life depends on their master’s whims—it’s not always secure."
"No, no, Cousin Mei is truly good. Besides, Jin Niang, I’m content where I am. I doubt I’ll return to the sewing room anytime soon." Sister Shan knew the sewing room was overworked, whereas now she only tailored clothes for Cousin Mei.
Moreover, the old matriarch was generous with Cousin Mei—on top of the regular monthly allowance, she sent an extra twenty or thirty strings of cash. With lighter duties and better pay, Sister Shan had no desire to return.
Jin Niang bit back further words. "Alright, if you’re happy, visit the sewing room when you can."
"Of course!" Sister Shan replied, brimming with confidence.
They parted ways in the corridor. Jin Niang shook her head and strode ahead, the wind sharpening her clarity of mind.
She even reminded herself not to lose her freedom by succumbing to someone else's kindness.
