In the early winter of Jiangling, the days were clear and bright, but the mornings and evenings were bitterly cold. Jin Niang, dressed in a dark blue padded jacket with her hair tied in twin buns, followed her parents into the carriage. That morning, the whole family was seeing her off at the ferry.
Luo Yu'e, holding her still-sleeping son, couldn't help but pour out the advice she hadn’t finished the day before: "When speaking to others, reveal only three parts of your thoughts—never bare your whole heart. This time, you were clever to keep quiet about being chosen by Madam Chen until the last moment. Even those in your embroidery workshop might not have known. If you had acted like before, you’d have been cheated again."
"I’ll remember, Mother," Jin Niang replied with a faint smile. Only a mother would be so earnest in her reminders—though this stemmed from the fact that Jin Niang had indeed been tricked once before.
Last time, Madam Hu from the embroidery workshop had taken on a job, distributing floral patterns to each room through the room leader. Those who embroidered well would later be hired by a wealthy local family to make clothes—a lucrative opportunity. Unexpectedly, the room leader had kept the patterns to herself, secretly copying them without informing the others in the Flower-and-Bird Room.
Though the room leader wasn’t selected in the end, the incident had taught Jin Niang to be more cautious. After all, this woman was usually known for her honest and warm-hearted demeanor.
It just proved that nine-tenths of a person’s kindness might be for show, while the remaining tenth was for their own gain. A smiling face could hide cunning intentions—appearances were indeed deceiving.
But Jin Niang also had instructions for her mother: "I’ll write letters home, but if I send them through the Shu Embroidery House, I’m afraid they might be opened along the way."
"What’s there to fear? It’s not like you’ll write anything improper," Luo Yu'e said carelessly.
Jin Niang knew her mother was the type who believed in doing everything openly, unafraid of prying eyes—but that wouldn’t do. "Mother, what if I mention the money I’ve saved? Never mind. Just remember this: I won’t usually send money back through others, as it might be stolen along the way. But for clothes and such, I’ll pack them securely and mention them in my letters. If they claim the items were lost or refuse to deliver them, you can demand an explanation."
At the mention of quarrels and confrontations, Luo Yu'e’s eyes lit up.
Jin Niang couldn’t help but laugh.
By the time the family of four reached the ferry, the sky was still pitch-black, and even Madam Chen seemed to have just arrived in a hurry. Luo Yu'e scolded her husband and daughter, "You two are always rushing around like headless chickens. I said we could come later, but you insisted on arriving so early."
"Mother, if we come now, the roads are clear. If we wait any longer, this place will be packed," Jin Niang said, peering out at the Jiangjin Ferry before letting the carriage curtain fall as a gust of wind blew in.
Outside, Wei Xiong rubbed his hands together and chuckled, "Jin Niang, your father will keep watch out here. Don’t stick your head out."
Jin Niang smiled. "Once Madam Chen and I board the boat, you should all have breakfast at the ferry before heading back. My little brother’s been saying he wants a bowl of duck noodle soup."
Luo Yu'e immediately asked, "Do you want some too? I’ll have your father fetch you a bowl."
"No need. When I’m working at the embroidery workshop, I often eat out at noon. I’ve tried everything here—don’t worry about me."
As they spoke, Madam Chen finally arrived in a hurry. Jin Niang quickly jumped down from the carriage, joining the other embroiderers bound for Bianjing. She had hoped for a proper farewell, but as soon as the boat docked, luggage was loaded, and before she knew it, she was separated from her family. Her eyes reddened with unshed tears.
Madam Chen consoled her, "Hurry inside the cabin—the wind is strong out here. You girls should get to know each other well. You’ll be spending the next three years together."
With that, Jin Niang went inside. Her father, Wei Xiong, a former imperial guard, had already made her bed with swift efficiency. Others were still arranging their bedding, so Jin Niang sat on her bunk, unpacking her toothbrush, washcloth, and wooden basin.
The girl across from her asked, "Where are you from?"
Jin Niang looked over and saw a petite girl with slightly sallow skin and delicate features. She wore two stylish silk flowers in her hair. Smiling, Jin Niang replied, "My family is originally from Anlu Prefecture, but my parents bought a house here, so we’ve lived in Jiangling Prefecture ever since. What about you? Your accent sounds familiar."
The girl grinned. "I’m from Anlu too."
In these times, those who could read a few words and had a trade usually came from decent families. The truly poor had no time for embroidery—they were too busy farming or tending to younger siblings.
After this brief exchange, the other two girls joined in. They arranged themselves by age: the eldest, Qin Shuang, was thirteen. She wore a pink padded jacket made of silk, with two hairpins adorning her hair. Even her bedding, though slightly worn, looked finer than the others'.
The second eldest was Fang Qiaolian, the girl who had spoken to Jin Niang first. The third was Jiang Shanjie, dressed in a gray-brown robe, her face dotted with blemishes.
"So Madam Chen chose one from each room," Jin Niang remarked.
The embroidery workshop was divided into four specialties: figures, flowers-and-birds, insects-and-fish, and landscapes. Jin Niang was from the Flower-and-Bird Room, while the other three represented their respective sections.
Qin Shuang then handed out a handful of roasted broad beans. Fang Qiaolian accepted some and said, "Earlier, I saw someone seeing you off—was that your younger sister? She’s quite pretty."
Qin Shuang’s expression turned odd. "That wasn’t my real sister."
"A cousin, then?" Jin Niang asked, taking some beans and preparing to share her flatbread with the group.
But Qin Shuang shook her head. "No. When my father was alive, he was a minor official in the Gusu region. After he passed away when I was seven, my mother returned to her hometown in Jiangling and remarried. I’m her only child, but my stepfather has a son and daughter of his own."
"So you’re from an official’s family—no wonder your clothes are different," Jin Niang said, finally understanding.
Qin Shuang smiled modestly. "What official’s family? My father was just a petty bureaucrat. But after my mother remarried into this household, the expenses grew. These clothes were made from her dowry—if I didn’t wear them, they’d have been taken by others long ago."
Jin Niang sighed. "No wonder."
In a family, if the man of the house passed away and the woman couldn’t hold things together, even wealth would be drained away.
Qin Shuang, clearly well-versed in social niceties, soon turned the conversation to Jin Niang: "Your family seems well-off—owning a house and even a mule cart."
"Don’t mention it. Buying that house left us with no savings. My parents finally scraped together some money, but when my grandfather died, it all went to his funeral. My grandmother lives with my uncle, but my father still has to send her money every month—my mother is furious about it. We’re practically waiting for rice to cook, or else why would I go work as a maid?" Jin Niang half-jokingly played up their poverty.
One shouldn’t boast too much about their wealth, lest they invite envy, nor should they claim to be too poor, or else people will suspect them first when something goes missing—branding them a thief. This was a lesson she had learned firsthand.
Back when her father was still serving in the Imperial Guards, she attended a girls’ school mostly populated by daughters of wealthy merchants or scholars. Because she honestly admitted that her father had originally been a local soldier before joining the Imperial Guards, she was ostracized and looked down upon.
Jiang Shanjie chimed in, "I don’t have any mother-in-law troubles at home. My grandparents passed away long ago, and my father is eighteen years older than my mother."
"How old is your mother now?" Jin Niang asked.
"My mother is thirty this year," Jiang Shanjie replied with a smile.
Jin Niang nodded. "Your mother is around the same age as mine. But how did you learn embroidery? Sister Qin Shuang comes from a family tradition—her mother studied Suzhou embroidery. Did you pick it up later, like me?"
Shanjie quickly shook her head. "Not exactly. My mother knows how to weave cloth. My father farms, so I originally followed my mother in weaving. Our neighbor was a tutor surnamed Feng. When I had free time, I learned a few characters from him, and his wife taught me needlework. I’ve been holding a needle since I was three."
"I started at five, two years older than you," Fang Qiaolian said lightly. "My mother always said that having many skills never weighs you down, so she had me learn from others since childhood."
The others could more or less tell—Fang Qiaolian’s mother had mentioned before leaving with Madam Chen that she was a widow raising a child alone, working in the prefect’s small kitchen, and life wasn’t easy for her.
Each of them carried their own burdens, a reminder that every family had its own struggles.
By noon, Jin Niang brought out homemade flatbread to share, even giving each of them an egg. Seeing her generosity, Fang Qiaolian didn’t hold back either, distributing pastries from the prefect’s kitchen that her mother had given her.
Outside the cabin, Madam Chen overheard their chatter and the sharing of food, unable to suppress a smile before stepping away to chat with the He family’s servants. The He family had rented this boat to transport festival gifts to the capital. Madam Chen said to Nanny Dou, the He family’s attendant, "These girls are far from home—it’s not easy for them, not like us who are used to life on the road."
"You’re worrying too much," Nanny Dou replied. She was Madam He’s personal maid and prided herself on having a sharp eye for people. "Once they get to the Zhou Family, dazzled by wealth and luxury, who’d even remember their hometown? They probably won’t want to come back."
Madam Chen laughed. "I’m the one who brought them out, and we’ll be working together in the future. I just want to make sure everything goes smoothly and no one causes trouble. But I’d appreciate your guidance, Sister Dou—I don’t want to walk into the Zhou Family blind."
Seeing that Madam Chen wasn’t the scheming type and had treated her well, Nanny Dou decided to show off a little. "The Zhou Family’s roots are in Gusu—a scholarly household. But Elder Master Zhou lost his father young and was raised by his widowed mother. Later, his talent earned him a marriage into the Han family, whose patriarch was an academician of the Zizheng Hall. Madam Han bore two sons before passing away, and Elder Master Zhou then married her younger sister, Young Madam Han, who bore only a daughter."
"Now, with Elder Master Zhou having passed away in Quanzhou, the eldest son—the current head of the Zhou Family—is quite accomplished, a top-ranked imperial scholar. He married the daughter of his father’s colleague, our Madam Jiang, who comes from a prime minister’s family—a perfect match. The second son entered officialdom through hereditary privilege. He’s not bookish but sharp-witted, and remarried into a scholarly family. The youngest is from a concubine and only manages family affairs. As for the household you’ll be serving—the eldest branch—Madam Jiang has an eighteen-year-old son, Eldest Young Master Zhou, studying at the Imperial Academy, and two daughters: Shishi and Huihui. There are also two concubines—one bore Third Miss Lingling, the other Fourth Miss Susu. Lingling’s mother was originally Madam Jiang’s maid. As for their temperaments, I only see them once every few years, so I can’t say much."
Madam Chen took a moment to digest the information, then sighed. "The Zhou Family is certainly flourishing. A large family isn’t the issue—it’s whether there’s peace within."
Nanny Dou waved a hand dismissively. "What’s there to worry about? The embroidery workshop stays tucked away—you’ll work quietly. Besides, you’re hired by the eldest branch; no one else would dare cause trouble. But let me give you one warning."
Madam Chen tensed. "Go ahead. I’ve got a flask of lamb’s wool wine set aside for you."
"Eldest Young Master Zhou is currently discussing marriage prospects. Madam Jiang guards him fiercely—she’s even cold toward relatives’ daughters. I’ve noticed some of these girls you’re bringing along have questionable intentions. If any of them stir up trouble, you could end up losing everything—or worse, getting your face beaten beyond recognition with no one to plead your case." Nanny Dou’s words grew slower until, finally, she slumped drunkenly into her chair.
