"Yesterday when I returned home, my throat was parched. I went to fetch water from the vat, only to find it completely emptied. Do you know who did it? That’s right—my brother-in-law again." Wen Shuhui had started complaining about her mother-in-law and brother-in-law once more.
Jin Niang found it somewhat tiresome to listen to. Perhaps because she was unmarried, she wasn’t particularly interested in these daily domestic grievances. Yet Wen Shuhui and Third Sister Xu, both married for years, would sit together and grumble endlessly about their in-laws.
Since they weren’t close, Jin Niang didn’t feel comfortable saying much.
Fortunately, Head Embroiderer Gu arrived just then, smiling as she announced, "In two days, it’ll be Minor New Year. Tomorrow, the embroidery workshop will distribute some supplies for the festivities."
Jin Niang had expected nothing more than a few trivial items, but to her surprise, the workshop handed out quite a bounty: a five-catty jar of premium sesame oil, two pecks of top-grade rice, a large three-foot cloth, six handkerchiefs, two balls of chrysanthemum-scented soap, a packet of dried lychees, and another of candied walnuts.
The group buzzed with excitement. Meng Liniang, a girl around Jin Niang’s age, exclaimed, "How am I supposed to carry all this home?"
True to her name, which included the character for "beauty," Meng Liniang was exceptionally pretty. She lived with her elder sister and brother-in-law, which made many things inconvenient. She turned to the others and asked, "How will you all manage?"
"My father is coming to fetch me, so he can help carry it," Jin Niang replied cheerfully.
Wen Shuhui’s husband, a carriage driver, had no trouble either: "My Ping’er’s father will pick me up."
As for Third Sister Xu, she said, "My husband will come for me too." Her family, like Jin Niang’s, owned a donkey cart.
Noticing the water clock marking the hour of You (5–7 PM), Jin Niang urged, "Time to leave, time to leave!"
Meng Liniang, Zou Yue'e, and Jin Niang were all unmarried young women who got along well. Jin Niang added apologetically, "Normally, if we had no plans today, I could have asked my father to drop you off. But we’re dining at my sister and brother-in-law’s place, so it’s just bad timing."
In truth, Jin Niang had prepared this excuse in advance—otherwise, they would surely have asked for her help. With the weather growing colder by the day, she couldn’t bear to trouble her father.
"It’s fine," Zou Yue'e said. "I’ll just take a little each day until everything’s moved."
In Bianjing, it was rare for a woman to remain unmarried at twenty-two. Jin Niang knew Zou Yue'e’s family still rented their home—five people crammed into two tiny rooms. Marriage was Zou Yue'e’s greatest worry, yet she carried herself with calm composure, free of bitterness.
After bidding her colleagues farewell, Jin Niang had her father help carry the rice and oil. Wei Xiong beamed. "Jin Niang, you’ve only been here a few days, and they’ve already given you so much!"
"Yes, I never expected it either..."
Back home, Luo Yu'e was equally delighted. Their family had always been content with little. Her mother, ever the matriarch, declared, "We’ll save the dried lychees for New Year’s. The candied walnuts we can eat now—they’re good for darkening hair. But using chrysanthemum soap for laundry seems wasteful, doesn’t it?"
Jin Niang laughed. "Mother, if it’s good, you should use it."
"Living in the capital now, we’re practically nobility!" Luo Yu'e planted her hands on her hips, radiating pride.
After dinner, Jin Niang took out the shoe soles she had stitched during idle hours at the workshop and began attaching the uppers. Anxiety gnawed at her—how would her embroidery sell at Brocade Pavilion?
While she fretted over her work, Luo Yu'e was preoccupied with her daughter’s marriage prospects. Jin Niang would turn sixteen after the New Year—prime age for matchmaking.
But Luo Yu'e knew hardly anyone in the city and dared not make hasty arrangements. Besides, most of their savings had gone into renting this house, leaving little for a dowry. Well, they could worry about that next year, once their business took off.
Younger Brother Yang’s school had closed for the holidays. Jin Niang and the others had spent half a month learning etiquette from the palace matrons. Now, instructors from the Imperial Painting Academy came mornings with booklets, even encouraging them to practice drawing.
"Only by mastering painting can your embroidery reach new heights. Take these home and study them in your free time."
Jin Niang wholeheartedly agreed. She still struggled to sketch without reference. Since her embroidered garments had already been delivered to Brocade Pavilion, she resolved to practice diligently during the seven-day New Year break.
Returning home one evening, she found her mother fuming. "What’s wrong?" Jin Niang asked with a smile.
"Your father took some cured meat to your grandmother today, only to hear your third aunt boasting about how her daughters and Sister Rong are already married, while you’re still unattached. How could I not be furious?" Luo Yu'e seethed.
Jin Niang patted her mother’s shoulder. "Why let her bother you? She’s always been like this. But why did you send gifts in the first place?"
"She’s still your grandmother." Luo Yu'e feared that if suitors investigated their family, rumors of neglecting elders might harm Jin Niang’s prospects.
Before the New Year, Jin Niang visited Brocade Pavilion to check on her embroidery’s sales. The manager flipped through his ledger. "Madam Wei, only one of your skirts has sold so far. Your share comes to about three strings and three hundred coins."
"How much?" Jin Niang pressed.
Thinking she was disappointed, the manager hurried to explain, "You’ve only just started. Our regular customers don’t know your work yet—this is quite good."
"No, that’s not it." Jin Niang was astonished. Back at the Zhou household, she’d earned just one string of coins for an entire outfit—and only occasionally. Now, a single skirt brought over three strings!
If Brocade Pavilion and the embroidery workshop each paid three strings monthly, she’d earn six strings a month—seventy-two strings a year! At the Zhou residence, even with bonuses, she’d never made more than thirty strings annually, and that was after backbreaking labor.
One never knew what lay beyond the next step until they took it.
At home, her parents were busy making New Year’s rice cakes. Her mother praised the quality of the rice Jin Niang had brought back and borrowed a mill to grind the flour.
Jin Niang retreated to her room to study the painters’ booklets, attempting to sketch from memory. Frustrated by the stiffness of her strokes and misshapen petals, she crumpled the paper and tossed it into the wastebasket before stepping outside for air.
Just then, Luo Yu'e called out, "Jin Niang, take some cakes to your elder sister’s family. They sent us congee for Laba Festival, after all."
"Alright, I’ll go out for a walk too," Jin Niang said, feeling rather stifled herself.
Basket in hand, she wrapped a scarf around her head and rode the family’s donkey to her destination. As luck would have it, both Rongniang and Feng Sheng were home today. When they saw Jin Niang arrive, they insisted she stay for a meal.
Jin Niang waved them off. "My mother was already rinsing rice and lighting the fire when I left. She told me to hurry back."
Rongniang pulled her inside. "At least have a cup of hot tea before you go."
Reluctantly, Jin Niang sat down. Feng Sheng then asked, "I heard Second Sister has joined the Embroidery Bureau?"
Jin Niang smiled. "Yes, it’s much more relaxed there. Now I have more time to refine my skills."
"I see. How much is your monthly wage?" Feng Sheng pressed.
Jin Niang answered truthfully, only for Feng Sheng to smirk. "That’s far too little. Someone like Ying Niang doesn’t even have to start work early, yet she earns at least eight strings of cash a month, often even more than ten—effortlessly."
"Well, that’s her good fortune. Oh dear, it’s getting late. I should head back." Jin Niang stood to leave, clearly unwilling to hear criticism.
Rongniang tried to delay her by showing off little Lin'er, but Jin Niang refused again. "If I’m late, my mother will scold me."
Once outside, Jin Niang felt an urgent need to return to her painting. No matter what, she had to carve out her own path. Even at the Embroidery Bureau, her contract only lasted three years. What would she do once it ended?
Back home, she hastily ate a few bites of food before pulling out fresh drafting paper. She had always copied others’ work before, but now she sketched from observation—first outlining with a fine brush, then adding color. She set aside the reference and recreated the image from memory, comparing and refining until late into the night. Finally, she no longer needed the guiding lines.
Yet something still felt off. The next morning, she skipped washing her face and dove straight back into painting.
Birds took countless forms, flowers endless shapes. Jin Niang was no master painter. She had no garden to study, no mentor to guide her—just her own intuition and perseverance.
Her dedication to art kept her from visiting relatives. Even when Luo Yu'e and Wei Xiong invited her to stroll the streets, she declined. Naturally, her parents grumbled, and relatives whispered about her odd temperament. But Jin Niang paid them no mind.
Xu Chongsi’s paintings suited her better than those of Huang Quan or Xu Xi—ideal for mastering the "boneless" technique.
Still, going without guiding lines remained a challenge. She mixed gamboge and indigo into green, deliberately leaving the blend uneven for painting leaves.
Stretching, she realized she was starving. Jin Niang nibbled on crispy walnuts and steamed buns, washing them down with a bowl of rice flour paste.
She chuckled wryly—her weight-loss plans were ruined. The intense, sedentary work demanded too much energy; she couldn’t afford to eat less.
The exhaustion didn’t bother her. She felt only the solitary thrill of pursuing her craft.
Of course, this made Rongniang and Feng Sheng see her as hopelessly aloof.
"As a woman," Feng Sheng remarked, "looks matter less than temperament. Just listen to Second Uncle—he won’t admit a single fault in that sister of yours."
Rongniang laughed. "Must you sound so harsh even when showing concern? She’s always been fiercely competitive—not just with us, but even comparing herself to men."
When Jin Niang finished the draft for her "Loquat and Long-tailed Bird" collar ornament, Luo Yu'e gasped in awe. "This is incredible!"
"I’ll make three collars. Tomorrow I’ll buy some silk gauze, and we’ll all visit the Great Xiangguo Temple together," Jin Niang said, making time for her parents.
Luo Yu'e eagerly agreed, secretly hoping the outing might lead to a chance encounter with a suitable husband.
Past visits to the temple had been rushed, but now they lingered, savoring the sights. For Luo Yu'e, it was a first—the dazzling stalls left her spellbound.
Amused, Jin Niang tugged her mother away whenever vendors called. "We can come often now. I’d like to visit the embroidery lane nearby."
"Let me just buy some roasted chestnuts first," Luo Yu'e insisted.
Jin Niang shook her head—her mother’s purse strings loosened only for snacks.
The embroidery lane was a true haven. Every stall overflowed with exquisite needlework. Jin Niang felt like a mouse in a rice barn, while Luo Yu'e soon grew dizzy. "I’m getting a headache from all these colors," she admitted, retreating.
Alone, Jin Niang marveled at specialized collar shops displaying intricate patterns in every hue. There were shoe stores with embroidered uppers, and of course, racks of fine garments.
She purchased several yards of silk and gauze to craft her "Loquat and Long-tailed Bird" collars—symbols of high rank and longevity. With provincial exams approaching in the capital, followed by imperial examinations, these designs would be in demand.
Seven days slipped by before Jin Niang returned to the Embroidery Bureau.
New recruits like her observed senior embroiderers first. Jin Niang sat quietly, absorbing every detail as one veteran explained, "Soon you’ll help outfit the new scholars. That’s how we all started."
"I see," Jin Niang replied, watching the woman’s needle fly across a jacket. "Who is this for?"
"Concubine Huang. She was Imperial Concubine Chen’s foster daughter before her promotion. Remember—at royal banquets, consorts wear red jackets entirely embroidered with pearls."
Jin Niang scribbled notes with her brush. "Foster daughters can become concubines?"
Bored by her task, the embroiderer indulged her. "With no imperial heir, these girls are either presented by officials or adopted by consorts."
Ordinary folk like them knew little of court affairs. Had she not worked for the Zhou family, she wouldn’t even recognize local officials.
"How unusual," Jin Niang mused, unaware this knowledge would later embroil her in palace intrigues.
She noted how pearls were stitched onto trim rather than collars, filing the technique away.
Back at home, Jin Niang's parents had limited funds. After much difficulty, they finally secured a shopfront. Eager to start earning quickly, her mother paid six months' rent upfront, along with expenses for steamers, tables, iron pots, and other necessities—spending nearly all of their twenty strings of cash.
Jin Niang became their first customer. Her parents sold soup-filled buns, vegetable pancakes, congee, tofu pudding, and soy milk. After tasting two buns, she remarked, "Not bad, though the buns are a bit yellowish."
"It's your father's fault," Luo Yu'e sighed. "He didn’t realize Kaifeng’s climate and flour are different from Jiangling’s." She pointed at the lamb soup shop across the street. "Who knew even a noodle shop there would sell buns too? We rushed into this."
"It’s not that you rushed—it’s just that our capital is tight. This place is perfect for you and Father to refine your skills. Kaifeng’s tastes differ from Jiangling’s. As long as you don’t lose money, you can always relocate after six months."
Jin Niang knew how expensive Kaifeng’s rents were. Even this remote spot had cost them two strings of cash per month after much haggling. A slightly better location would’ve cost four strings—and that for just a single shopfront.
Though Luo Yu'e was usually impatient, Jin Niang’s reassurance eased her mind. "Don’t worry, your father and I will hold out till the very last day."
Meanwhile, Jin Niang and the others completed their month-long pre-employment training and officially began work. Perhaps due to her rigorous self-training during the New Year, she no longer needed to trace new designs from the painting academy onto translucent Korean paper. Now, she could sketch them directly and outline the embroidery areas with thread.
Spring was approaching, and the imperial consorts needed new robes and skirts.
Head Embroiderer Gu inspected the newcomers as she walked. Jin Niang, despite the hassle, would rise to ask questions—her attitude commendable.
Though the novices had listened to instructions for a month, mistakes were inevitable when they finally took to the embroidery frames. Head Embroiderer Gu assigned experienced embroiderers to guide them in turns.
The five newcomers worked as a team on a single garment—unlike the Zhou household, where one person handled an entire outfit. Here, each worked on a separate piece.
Jin Niang was tasked with a pleated skirt. "Embroider peonies on the upper right and lower left," Head Embroiderer Gu instructed. "Follow this pattern—use cotton thread first, then silk, splitting it finely."
"Understood." Jin Niang realized the Imperial Embroidery Workshop valued skill over creativity. This suited her—no need to overthink, and she could bring the latest palace designs home, which were highly sought-after.
Originally planning three oriole-and-loquat collars, she replaced the last with peonies. She’d intended to earn three strings of cash, but to her surprise, they sold for six. Combined with her monthly wages, she’d nearly earned ten strings.
That evening, she jingled her coin pouch at home. "Tomorrow’s my day off—let’s eat fish at the stew shop!"
Her father hesitated, but her mother agreed eagerly. "Good! We’ll close early."
Since buying the donkey cart, Jin Niang had stopped giving her parents money. Once, she’d saved for her dowry, but now she prioritized financial independence—enough to avoid poverty’s constraints and others’ disdain.
Why did Feng Sheng dare criticize everyone? Because she earned well.
Ten strings a month—once unimaginable. Back then, even one string seemed generous. Hearing Feng Sheng’s husband earned thirty had felt like a fantasy. Now, it felt within reach.
"The fish stew shop on North Horse Street is unique," Jin Niang explained. "Others boil or steam fish, but this one roasts it first. It’s packed daily."
"Really?" Her family marveled.
She nodded. "And it’s affordable—a hundred coins with free drinks. Father, didn’t you say you’d run out of wine?"
Balance was key. Though business was slow, the outing lifted their spirits. Younger Brother Yang, usually quiet, buzzed with excitement—his first family outing.
Jin Niang held his hand, buying him a mask and pinwheel. "Can I take these to school tomorrow, Sister?"
"Of course! Make more friends." She smiled.
Yang adored yet feared her—she spoiled him but scolded him if he neglected studies. Thankfully, he’d risen from the bottom of his class to tenth.
After a half-hour wait at the bustling shop, they finally got a table. Jin Niang ordered fish and crispy pork. While waiting, she glimpsed Madam Wu’s maid—though only two months had passed, it felt like ages.
Meanwhile, after marrying off their eldest daughter, the Zhou household dismissed all seamstresses. Unaware, Zhou Cunzhi—who’d made an impression with his red robes—joked he’d "pulled a Chen Ziang" (referencing the poet who smashed his lute for fame). When he sought Jin Niang for spring attire, he was stunned to learn the seamstresses were gone.
After their meal, misfortune struck—a thief snatched Jin Niang’s pouch. Though she carried little cash, it held a fabric reimbursement slip.
Her father gave chase, Jin Niang following, but the thief vanished into the crowd.
As her parents despaired, a young man in a plain robe and square cap approached. "Miss, is this yours?" He handed her the pouch.
Grateful, she checked—nothing missing, including thirty coins. She offered him twenty. "Thank you, sir. Buy yourself some wine."
While they were still speaking, they saw Wei Xiong strike up a conversation with the man. The man’s surname was Shao, given name Shengping. They learned he was a scholar who had come to the capital from the countryside of Jinan and was now teaching at a private school, earning three strings of cash a month. However, two strings went toward renting a house, leaving him struggling to afford three meals a day.
Luo Yu'e and Wei Xiong both sympathized with him. Since he had helped retrieve the daughter’s purse, they often sent him food from their steamed bun shop. Jin Niang didn’t pay much attention to this, but when her mother quietly mentioned that Shao Shengping had sent a matchmaker to propose marriage, Jin Niang refused.
"Jin Niang, you’re capable and strong-willed. This Mr. Shao is just five years older than you. Though his circumstances are difficult, he’s a scholar with a good heart and upright character. And remember, he even chased down a thief for you."
Since Jin Niang was the one who made decisions in the household, Luo Yu'e consulted her first.
But Jin Niang immediately shook her head. "Mother, I’m not considering marriage yet. Most women in Bianjing marry at seventeen or eighteen. I want to earn more money first. He can barely support himself—how could I agree? I’m not willing to endure hardship again."
She knew herself well. Though she was plump, she wore silk garments outside because she worked at the Zhou household and the embroidery workshop. She also owned a house. Beyond that, she had barely spoken to this man—how could he truly like her? Besides, she felt nothing for Shao Shengping.
It was said that Shao Shengping didn’t give up and sent the matchmaker again, only to be rejected once more. Luo Yu'e said apologetically to the matchmaker, "My daughter refuses. There’s nothing I can do. I can’t very well make her live in a shack."
Failing to arrange the marriage, the matchmaker told Shao Shengping, "Mr. Shao, don’t take it to heart. I did my best, but this Miss Wei only has eyes for wealthy men."
