The following spring, Jin Niang finally received a letter from home. Her mother wrote that their house had been damaged by flooding but had since been repaired, and the price of rice had stabilized, so she needn’t worry. She added that people in their hometown always found ways to survive—even if the rice was ruined, there were still lotus roots in the ponds and fish to catch. Her younger brother had also started attending elementary school.
This year, after a few more months of work, they would hand over the family shop to her uncle. With the earnings, they planned to sell their current house and buy a better one so Jin Niang would have her own room when she returned.
At this point, Jin Niang paused. If she went back, she could easily find work at any embroidery workshop in Jiangling—but that would be the limit of her prospects.
Was she content with that?
Of course not.
Even if she returned, it would only be after gaining prestige from the Imperial Embroidery Academy. Her parents had treated her well, but going back now would mean watching them struggle with finances again, and she’d remain stuck in the same rut.
With this in mind, she wrote back, saying she intended to prepare for the Imperial Embroidery Academy exams. If she succeeded, she would stay in the capital for three years and delay her return. Secretly, she hoped her parents might consider moving to the capital as well. After all, the city had many schools, and under the emperor’s rule, her brother wouldn’t have to travel far for the imperial exams.
Whether in Jiangling or the capital, they were all far from home. Why not earn enough money together before returning?
Of course, this was just her suggestion. If her parents disagreed, she could only focus on her own path.
No matter how kind her parents were, each person’s life had to be in their own hands. Otherwise, even if fortune came unexpectedly, without earning it yourself, you’d never truly hold onto it.
The chair covers, table drapes, and door curtains were nearly finished. This time, she had embroidered them in the latest fashionable style, and the results were clearly better.
Especially the spring blossom gown she had newly made for the eldest young lady—it appeared simple, but she had used hidden embroidery, matching the thread to the fabric while still showcasing her skill.
The skirt was adorned with delicate pear blossoms, elegant and understated.
The designs were so stylish that when the eldest young lady’s close friend visited, she couldn’t help but praise the new outfit.
"This style reminds me of what my aunt wore recently."
The eldest young lady smiled. "This was made by our embroiderer."
Yet Jin Niang felt no joy. The workload was overwhelming—it was like being worked to the bone. The younger ones could still endure, but Madam Chen’s back was bent from pain, and Qin Shuang'er had fallen ill.
She had come to despise late-night work. The endless sewing left her nauseous and with headaches, but those in charge would never sympathize.
Madam Chen walked in, clutching her waist. "Ah, I really can’t take it anymore. The moment I sit down, the pain starts. I don’t even know what’s wrong."
"You’ve been sitting too much," Jin Niang said knowingly. In her past life, she had written scripts hunched over a desk until her sciatica flared up.
Madam Chen sighed. "I just want to finish sooner and go home. We work from the moment we open our eyes until we can’t keep them open at night." She glanced at Qin Shuang'er. "I know you’ve just recovered, but there’s no choice—we’re all overloaded."
Even Jin Niang had developed sores on her backside from sitting too long.
Just then, Lv Ying arrived, summoning Jin Niang to the second young master’s quarters for tailoring.
"Really? Madam sent for me?" Jin Niang found it odd.
Lv Ying laughed. "Of course! Madam’s orders. Hurry up."
Jin Niang forced a smile. "Alright, I’ll go soon."
Once Lv Ying left, she turned to Madam Chen. "Didn’t Madam forbid unmarried women from casually visiting the second young master before?"
Qin Shuang'er had been about to stir trouble, implying that Madam favored Jin Niang over Madam Chen, but Jin Niang’s reaction surprised her.
Madam Chen, experienced in such matters, smiled faintly. "Back then, the second young master wasn’t married yet. They were worried he might cause trouble. Now that his wife is here, why would they still care?"
Jin Niang frowned. "That’s not the point. If it truly didn’t matter, why summon me specifically? If I go, no one will suspect anything."
Madam Chen looked slightly embarrassed.
After finishing the last few stitches, Jin Niang went to the outer courtyard, first paying respects to Lady Zhang, who was nearing childbirth. "This servant was ordered by Madam to tailor clothes for the second young master."
Lady Zhang studied Jin Niang—her plump figure, round face, and bright eyes gave her a fortunate appearance—and relaxed slightly. "Go ahead. The second young master is in his study."
"Yes." Jin Niang stood, backing away respectfully before leaving.
She hadn’t seen Cuixian in months. As the second young master’s concubine, she had either been reassigned or dismissed—no one knew.
Shivering slightly, Jin Niang entered the study to find Zhou Cunzhi reclining in a bow-shaped chair, dozing. She thought irritably, He has time to nap here but can’t be bothered to accompany his wife?
She cleared her throat. "Second Young Master, Madam sent me to tailor your clothes."
Zhou Cunzhi rose slowly, barely glancing at her as he extended his arms. After years of sewing women’s garments, Jin Niang felt somewhat rusty with men’s measurements.
The second young master was tall, his arms so long she had to tiptoe to measure properly.
Once done, Zhou Cunzhi sat back down with a book. Jin Niang, as usual, asked, "Would you prefer a straight-collared or diagonal-collared overcoat? Or perhaps a round-necked robe? What color would you like?"
Madam Chen had never asked such questions—she simply measured and sewed. Zhou Cunzhi finally looked at Jin Niang: a plump girl with a goldfish-shaped bag slung over her shoulder, scribbling his measurements with a quill, waiting expectantly.
He raised a brow. "What style do you think suits me?"
Jin Niang assessed him—tall, handsome, likely looking good in anything—and replied, "Any would suit you, Second Young Master. It depends on your preference. Do you want to appear scholarly, dignified, or refined?"
"If I say dignified, it’d sound like boasting," he grumbled.
Jin Niang stifled a laugh. "That wasn’t my intention. Let me rephrase—will this be for outings, home wear, banquets, or literary gatherings?"
Zhou Cunzhi considered. "For outings and gatherings."
"Alright, please wait a moment while I fill in the colors for you to see." Jin Niang had already sketched the design for men's clothing before arriving, so she only needed to add the colors now.
Noticing Zhou Cunzhi's ethereal demeanor, which resembled that of a recluse, she chose mostly slate blue hues, with a white collar embroidered with pine, bamboo, and plum blossoms in a circular pattern. The accessories could be either a crystal begonia-shaped tassel ring or a white jade hollowed-out floral and bird pattern piece. Removing the waist tassel would turn it into casual homewear, while wearing it outside would exude refined elegance without appearing ostentatious.
She also designed a plain silk jacket for colder weather. Accustomed to such work, she relied on her speed and soon presented the finished sketch to Zhou Cunzhi.
This was the first time Zhou Cunzhi had seen something like this. His thought process differed from most, and he pointed at Jin Niang, asking, "Can you really make it look exactly like this?"
Jin Niang had initially drawn a strikingly handsome man without coloring the clothes, so Zhou Cunzhi might have mistaken the figure for himself.
Jin Niang nodded. "I’ll do my best, though I’ll need to search the storeroom for matching fabrics. However, with the embroidery work for the eldest young lady still pending, your garments may take about ten days to complete."
"Fine."
Zhou Cunzhi took out a small silver ingot from his purse and tossed it to Jin Niang. "A reward for you."
As expected of the second young master—a direct reward of five taels of silver! Jin Niang, who had recently spent a lot on pigments, was delighted by the extra income and quickly tucked the silver into her own purse before excusing herself.
While women’s clothing came naturally to her, men’s attire required frequent consultations with Madam Chen. Qin Shuang'er, however, grew wary of Jin Niang. True, Jin Niang wasn’t strikingly beautiful, but she was capable. What if the second young master took a liking to her and kept her by his side?
Qin Shuang'er now felt like a headless fly, making no progress and drowning in endless needlework. She couldn’t bear the thought of being trapped in this tedious craft forever—it was unbearable, with no end in sight.
Though Jin Niang had her own worries, she handled pressure well. Moreover, she had already set her future goals, which gave her clarity.
Later that evening, Zhou Cunzhi returned from his study to dine with Lady Zhang in their chambers. As a young couple, they should have been deeply affectionate, but after the honeymoon phase, their relationship soured.
Zhou Cunzhi was a man of exacting standards—brilliant yet unruly, witty yet resistant to control. Lady Zhang, raised in privilege, had initially enjoyed his deference during their courteous early days, but things gradually changed.
The final straw was when Cuixian was dismissed. Though Cuixian had requested to leave, Zhou Cunzhi suspected Lady Zhang’s interference. He resented her high-handedness—Cuixian had served him dutifully for years, yet Lady Zhang couldn’t tolerate her presence.
Then there were the trivial but grating adjustments, like dinner. Zhou Cunzhi typically abstained from meals after noon, eating only fruits and vegetables in the evening. Yet Lady Zhang insisted on serving him rich, meat-heavy dishes, believing it better for his health.
Such minor disagreements could have been resolved, but Lady Zhang’s love had turned possessive. Now pregnant, she grew resentful when Zhou Cunzhi didn’t dote on her, her tone turning sharp.
"It’s clear you’re upset that your beloved left. You’ve been sulking at me every day, but she chose to go—and you agreed!"
Zhou Cunzhi stared at her before standing abruptly. "Unreasonable. I don’t eat at night anyway. I’m returning to the study."
Lady Zhang, left seething, clutched her stomach in pain—fortunately, nothing serious came of it.
News of the spat reached Madam Jiang, who scoffed. "I don’t understand her haste. The child isn’t even born yet, and she’s already driven out the maidservant. Cuixian was such a docile girl."
As the mother-in-law, however, she couldn’t interfere in her son’s household affairs without inviting gossip.
Lv Ying, Madam Jiang’s confidante, tactfully added, "The second young mistress is nearing her due date. Nothing should disrupt that."
"Indeed. Otherwise, I wouldn’t tolerate her," Madam Jiang replied.
Oddly, while Madam Jiang despised concubines, she still judged her daughter-in-law harshly for dismissing a mere maid.
At first, Jin Niang found these household intrigues fascinating, but they soon grew repetitive—just endless power struggles.
Her real frustration lay in men’s clothing. Women’s garments sparked endless creativity, but men’s designs left her uninspired.
It wasn’t that she lacked skill—she simply lacked interest. Jin Niang believed passion drove excellence, and without it, work felt hollow.
From then on, she avoided tailoring men’s clothes whenever possible, focusing instead on embroidery.
Yet when Zhou Cunzhi wore the finished piece, he adored it—Jin Niang spotted him in it twice. However, when he next requested a pouch, she pleaded a heavy workload and passed the task to Qin Shuang'er.
Unaware of Jin Niang’s process, Qin Shuang'er approached the assignment as she would any other—directly, without even paying respects to Lady Zhang first. She went straight to Zhou Cunzhi’s study.
When Zhou Cunzhi saw a different seamstress—one who only asked about shapes and colors without presenting sketches—he frowned. "Where’s the girl from last time?"
Qin Shuang'er, prickling with jealousy, replied, "She’s embroidering the eldest young lady’s dowry and can’t pause midway."
"Fine. Just make something simple," Zhou Cunzhi said dismissively.
His indifference baffled Qin Shuang'er. All her usual tactics with men failed here. Zhou Cunzhi, though handsome, seemed impervious to charm—aloof and uninterested.
Returning to the servants’ quarters, Qin Shuang'er wilted like frostbitten foliage. At lunch, she muttered bitterly, "The second young master certainly treats you differently."
Jin Niang didn’t even glance up. "It’s precisely because I’m like this that everyone trusts me with these tasks. How is that special? Want to trade places? You can have my extra weight."
Sometimes, she mused, being plump had its advantages—it shielded her from certain troubles. Beauty brought privileges, but for those in humble positions, it could also be a curse.
Hearing such words, Qin Shuang'er could no longer bring up Jin Niang. She thought that if Jin Niang had refused to make a pouch for the Second Young Master, she must have already been scolded—it was just that Jin Niang, being prideful, wouldn’t admit it.
These minor interruptions did not hinder Jin Niang and the others from cutting and sewing clothes. Now, Jin Niang had begun making headscarves and handkerchiefs. Handkerchiefs were usually made of gauze, requiring embroidery with matching twisted threads.
Madam Chen shared her experience: "For gauze, you must use gauze threads. Using velvet threads or gold-wrapped embroidery would look vulgar. It’s best to choose colors similar to the gauze. If embroidering leaves, keep the stitches smooth. For flowers, avoid large blossoms—smaller ones look more elegant."
Peonies and roses were too difficult to embroider, as their flowers were generally too large. But magnolias, pear blossoms, and plum blossoms were manageable.
So far, apart from peonies, Jin Niang still couldn’t sketch other flowers freehand. If only she had dedicated time to practice, she might have improved.
But now, the needlework had become so exhausting that merely finishing the tasks felt like an achievement. Even Jin Niang, who worked relatively quickly, was struggling.
Fang Qiaolian said, "I plan to embroider the corners of these handkerchiefs—one with a cat, one with a dog, one with an insect, and one with a fish. Honestly, I’ll just stitch whatever comes to mind."
At first, the First Madam would give them bonuses for their embroidery. But this year, apart from their monthly wages, they received nothing. And according to Madam Chen, the amount of bridal embroidery work in her household was three to five times that of others.
When Madam Chen came in with a medicinal plaster on her back, she groaned, "You young ones are lucky. My back is truly done for—it hurts so much. Last night, I even fell when getting up, but there’s no way to stop working."
Jin Niang stood up to help her sit down. "Madam Chen, we’re embroidering just as much, yet we earn so little. Yesterday, I heard that even chicken butchers outside earn three hundred coins a day."
When she was younger, Jin Niang had thought one tael of silver was a fortune. But after spending years in Bianjing, she had gradually learned about the wages in the capital. Her cousin, for example, worked as a "wine-pourer" in the grandest Panlou tavern. On the surface, she seemed like a mere server, refilling wine and soup for guests, but she also earned commissions from promoting drinks and dishes.
During the New Year, Jin Niang had met her uncle’s family at Rongniang’s place. Though they might have exaggerated a bit, it was likely true that a moderately successful wine-pourer could earn over twenty strings of cash a month. Even if the job wasn’t sustainable in old age, the money earned in youth could last a lifetime.
Meanwhile, Jin Niang was still making just one tael a month, working from dawn till dusk.
She used to think one tael was plenty, but now she felt increasingly inadequate.
Unlike Jin Niang, who reflected on her shortcomings when seeing others prosper, Qin Shuang'er had taken a darker path. She had less than half a year left—she was already sixteen.
The atmosphere in the embroidery room had even unsettled Si'er. Before, Jin Niang would teach her, but now she had no time. Si'er had to sketch flower patterns herself, then spend hours sorting threads and matching colors.
Even when the Third Young Master of the household got engaged, they weren’t allowed to rest.
This Third Young Master was the only son of the third branch, seventeen years old and known for his upright character. Lady Xi kept a tight rein on him—so strict that she hadn’t even allowed maids in his chambers.
Lan Xue sometimes gossiped, "The Third Madam is terribly strict with her son, but what else can she do? With the Third Master being the way he is, her only hope is her son. No wonder she’s harsh. At least the Third Young Master is scholarly."
"I heard his betrothed is the daughter of an official family who values his studies. The third branch is even pawning things to gather betrothal gifts," Jin Niang added, having her own sources of information.
Sister-in-law Hu and Yun Lan, who served Madam Wu of the second branch, were also well-informed.
As they chatted, they didn’t notice Qin Shuang'er listening intently. She was now at the peak of her beauty—radiant and delicate. And her connections were even broader than Jin Niang’s.
If the Second Young Master was a dead end, she would try the Third Young Master. This time, she was determined.
Every day, when the Third Young Master grew weary from studying, he would rest in a bamboo grove behind the second branch’s garden. Over the years, Qin Shuang'er had saved nearly fifty strings of cash. Now, she steeled herself to spend ten strings to make her move.
One day, as the heat grew unbearable, Jin Niang complained, "In previous years, they’d occasionally send us ice. Now, we get nothing."
Fang Qiaolian sighed. "They just don’t want to spend money on us. But the real reason is the household’s finances—with the eldest daughter married and the second preparing her dowry, two weddings have left them far from wealthy."
Just then, Qin Shuang'er stood up, stretching her neck. "I drank too much water—I need to step out for air. I’m breaking out in heat rashes."
Jin Niang and Fang Qiaolian didn’t suspect a thing, too absorbed in their own exhaustion to pay her any mind.
As Qin Shuang'er left, Jin Niang said, "Let’s order some ‘milk sugar ice.’ If I don’t have something cold soon, I’ll collapse."
"Alright, I’ll ask Brother Kuang San to get it for us—it’ll be cheaper." Fang Qiaolian was Nanny Kuang’s goddaughter, so she got discounts.
The so-called "milk sugar ice" was made of rock sugar, milk, and cheese, frozen into something resembling modern ice cream. Jin Niang quickly counted out eight coins for her.
Meanwhile, in the bamboo grove, a young nobleman encountered a beautiful maid.
She "accidentally" spilled tea on herself, looking pitiful and fragile. She even lamented her poverty, saying that if she were dismissed, she’d be ruined.
The repressed young master and the ambitious maid—when golden wind met jade dew, their encounter eclipsed all worldly joys.
At the last moment, the girl revealed herself—it was Qin Shuang'er, tears glistening at the corners of her eyes. She had succeeded.
The dense bamboo grove seemed deaf to it all. Only the young servant standing guard outside, carrying a bundle with ten strings of cash, knew the truth.
In another part of the grove, Yan Hong’s parents handed her a deed of release. "Child, go. We’ve obtained your contract from Madam Jiang. Don’t come back."
Claiming her madness required southern treatment, they had secured her freedom. They had even arranged a decent match for her—a humble but honest merchant who fancied Yan Hong and felt he was the lucky one.
"Father, Mother, your daughter has brought you trouble." Yan Hong knelt down and kowtowed, her husband following suit.
Her parents smiled and said, "We had long intended to ask the First Madam to release your indenture once you came of age, so you could live a good life. What happened afterward was beyond our control. Now, go forth and build a happy life together."
Yan Hong nodded firmly and let her husband lead her away. As they made their way through the bamboo grove, she recalled the agony of losing her child—yet now, it felt as though she had been reborn.
As the saying goes: Some resign from office to return home, while others rush through the night to sit for imperial exams. The young know nothing of life’s sorrows; only in old age does one understand the hardships of the journey.
