"Second Sister, how did you lose weight?" Ying Niang asked incredulously, her tone probing.
Jin Niang smiled, covering her face with her hand. "Perhaps I just grew taller and slimmer."
"You didn’t eat less?" Ying Niang pressed.
Jin Niang shook her head. "Of course not! I eat plenty every day. I’m too lazy to cook in the morning and noon, and I even have midnight snacks after dinner. Don’t believe me? Ask Mother!"
Luo Yu'e naturally wouldn’t reveal her daughter’s weight loss efforts and played along, pointing at the half-cut cured meat under the eaves. "Just yesterday, I made cured meat rice for your Second Sister."
"So people really can just grow slimmer…" Ying Niang murmured, envy bubbling in her heart.
Jin Niang certainly wouldn’t boast about her weight loss. After all, they were about to leave Stinky Water Alley and start anew. She knew exactly what Ying Niang and the others were fishing for—if she told them the truth, they’d only gossip behind her back.
They had come under the pretense of helping with the move, but Ying Niang quickly pulled An Ping aside, chattering excitedly about bringing playing cards for later.
Rongniang remained silent the entire time. Even Luo Yu'e could tell none of them truly wished her daughter well. Rongniang had always been decent before, but now she was acting like this.
Still, as her daughter had said, there was a certain satisfaction in shutting them down—watching them squirm without being able to say a word.
Thankfully, Jin Niang had insisted they not rely on relatives for help. Instead, they had moved their belongings bit by bit over time, so now everything could be loaded onto just two carts.
Rongniang and Ying Niang exchanged uneasy glances in the carriage.
When they arrived at the house in Sweet Water Alley, their heads spun. They’d heard Jin Niang’s new home was a modest one-courtyard residence, but this was nothing of the sort. The front gate boasted three grand arches, with a polished plaque in the center reading "Madam Wei’s Embroidery Shop." A large vat sat by the entrance, floating with lotus blossoms the size of bowls, their petals glistening among the lush leaves.
Flanking the lotus vat were paper banners—one proclaiming "Head Embroiderer of the Imperial Textile Bureau," the other advertising expertise in floral and avian embroidery, specializing in dresses, collars, shoes, socks, wedding gowns, quilts, and even silk tapestry repairs.
Stepping inside, they saw a waist-high counter to the west, stacked with tally sticks and ledgers. Behind it stood an eight-foot-tall cabinet displaying threads, yarns, and fabrics of every color. Beside it was an arched doorway draped with an orange-red satin curtain embroidered with phoenixes and peonies. Lifting the curtain revealed an inner room dominated by large and small embroidery frames, bamboo trays filled with needles and threads, and a soft couch against the far wall, surrounded by exquisite silk paintings.
Exiting the inner room, the eastern side offered another sight—a round table, embroidered stools, a tea cabinet, and another couch, arranged like a cozy private chamber.
Rongniang frowned. "What’s this space for?"
"Oh, when customers come to choose designs, I seat them here if it’s crowded. My place is small, so I had the carpenter build a tea cabinet to hold cups and spoons," Jin Niang explained.
Rongniang fretted, "You’ve invested so much. What if business is slow?"
"It’s not that much," Jin Niang said. Half the furniture came with the renovation, the rest cost less than twenty strings of cash. The luxurious fabrics? Some were from the Imperial Textile Bureau, others from the Zhou family—just clever staging to make everything look opulent.
A small investment for a grand effect.
As they spoke, Ying Niang picked up a booklet filled with illustrations of women in various outfits. "Second Sister, where did you buy these?"
Jin Niang giggled behind her hand. "I drew them myself! Over the years, I’ve sketched every dress I’ve made. It makes it easier for customers to choose."
"I never knew you had such talent," Ying Niang admitted grudgingly.
At first, they hadn’t thought embroidery was anything special—after all, every woman knew needlework. But seeing Jin Niang’s flawless arrangements and exquisite pieces, they couldn’t help but admire her.
Jin Niang closed the front gate. "We’re not opening for a few more days. Let’s keep it shut, or we’ll have vendors knocking nonstop."
She then led them through the main hall to the backyard. Ying Niang gasped. "I thought this was a one-courtyard house! Why is it so spacious?"
To the west, lush greenery thrived; to the east, a dedicated stable. Through the moon gate, towering buildings loomed, their upper floors draped in blooming flowers, a vision of elegance.
Jin Niang laughed. "That’s because I didn’t build side rooms on the west—just a narrow corridor. The courtyard’s also shortened."
Rongniang stepped inside and saw the kitchen was indeed compact, half the size of theirs, yet fully equipped, even with a tiny woodshed holding a narrow bed.
The courtyard lacked elaborate gardens, a clever illusion. From the moon gate, the layers seemed endless, but up close, the tricks revealed themselves.
The ground floor of the small building held a modest main hall—a long altar table with an incense burner, flanked by four armchairs, and an octagonal table to the east. Two small rooms completed the floor.
"Is this where you live?" Rongniang asked, assuming these were the siblings’ quarters.
Jin Niang shook her head. "No, I live upstairs."
Ascending, they found another world. The eastern chamber was a boudoir—pink gauze curtains, a glossy satin quilt, even a plush rug. A six-panel wardrobe, desk, lamp stand, vanity, and washbasin completed the lavish setup.
An adjoining alcove held a bathtub, wooden basin, and toiletries.
Rongniang thought privately that Jin Niang’s space alone was larger than Second Uncle and Aunt’s quarters, Younger Brother Yang’s room, and their dining hall combined.
Even the second floor had a small terrace, bursting with blooming roses.
"Mother insisted on planting these," Jin Niang said with a shrug.
Finally, Ying Niang voiced the obvious. "Second Sister, your second floor is too extravagant. It’s grander than Second Aunt’s entire home."
Jin Niang blinked. "Well, I bought the house, didn’t I?"
She no longer cared what they thought.
"Oh… right." Ying Niang found her lack of filial piety distasteful but held her tongue.
As Jin Niang ushered them downstairs, Rongniang asked, "Why aren’t these curtains embroidered? They’re pretty, but wouldn’t flowers make them lovelier?"
Jin Niang covered another laugh. "The front is for customers. Why would we fuss over our private quarters?"
At the housewarming feast, despite eighteen dishes laid out, Feng Sheng remained silent throughout.
On the way back, neither he nor Rongniang and her husband knew what to say.
"You—" "You—"
Rongniang paused. "You go first."
"I don’t have much to say, except that your sister is too strong-willed, dead set on outshining everyone," Feng Sheng said, shaking his head.
Rongniang nodded. "Honestly, I don’t mind that. She’s still young, and it’s not easy for her to build up such a business on her own. But she’s wasting not just her own money for the sake of appearances—she’s wasting her parents’ too. My aunt-in-law told me outright that she and Uncle bought all the furniture in Younger Brother Yang’s quarters themselves. Yet despite that, Jin Niang took the largest room for herself and gave her parents two tiny ones."
"Everything’s for her own benefit," Feng Sheng sighed.
Rongniang agreed. "Exactly. Earlier, when we were cooking in the kitchen, she chopped the vegetables haphazardly, and her mother wouldn’t even let her wash the dishes. She sleeps till midday—"
She caught herself then, because nowadays, she also rose late. With no in-laws around to oversee her, and being naturally carefree, she had five or six servants attending to her—of course, things were different.
She glanced at Feng Sheng, who seemed not to have heard her remark. Instead, he looked oddly restless. In the past, his words carried weight among men, but today, when he remarked to Wei Xiong that the house didn’t seem to face south, that penniless scholar had snapped back at him.
Still, Feng Sheng mused, "So Jin Niang will be her own boss from now on?"
Rongniang nodded. "That’s right. She’s got everything prepared. I thought if she was short on funds, I might spare her some, but when I asked my aunt-in-law, she didn’t even know how much money Jin Niang had saved. And Jin Niang herself just brushed me off, saying she’d ask if she ever needed it. My kindness was wasted."
Sitting on her soft, fragrant bed, Jin Niang glanced at her money box—a hundred strings of cash in total, her entire savings. Rongniang and the others thought she was pretending to be wealthier than she was, but they didn’t understand her at all. She wasn’t the type to spend every last coin.
Besides, after all these years at the embroidery workshop and the Zhou household, she’d stockpiled plenty of thread, silk, and fine brocade. She hardly needed capital to start her business—the house was hers, and the fabric could be bought on credit. If a customer used a length of cloth, they’d pay; if not, she could even return the unused material.
Jin Niang wasn’t worried about lack of business either. She’d been in the embroidery trade for ten years, and her skills were solid. It was just a matter of earning more or less.
What’s more, she was her own best advertisement. Smiling at her reflection in the bronze mirror on her dressing table, she felt a surge of confidence.
That evening, Jin Niang soaked in a bathtub for the first time. Back in Stinky Water Alley, the house was so cramped that she’d had to visit the public baths for a proper scrub—fifteen coppers each time. Now, she could bathe whenever she pleased.
After all, she had a well and her own home.
The next morning, Wei Xiong took Younger Brother Yang to Attendant Wu’s house, while Luo Yu'e and Jin Niang went to a nearby property agent to rent out their old home in Stinky Water Alley.
Jin Niang wore a pale purple underrobe, a cherry-blossom pink cross-collared tunic, and gray cotton trousers beneath a turquoise brocade skirt patterned with tortoiseshell motifs. A silk sash cinched her waist, weighted by a beaded pendant. Over this, she donned a duck-yellow satin vest, its standout feature being the split front and back, with embroidered floral branches along the long collar and a white border stitched along the edges—warm yet airy, without a hint of bulk.
Seeing her daughter so radiant, Luo Yu'e was overjoyed. She whispered, "Your cousins were green with envy when they saw you yesterday."
"People just can’t stand others doing well. But I won’t indulge them," Jin Niang laughed.
Once outside, Jin Niang noticed how many passersby stopped to stare. She turned to Luo Yu'e. "Mother, this is the downside of being beautiful."
Luo Yu'e hadn’t expected her daughter to be so striking after slimming down. Jin Niang’s features weren’t as delicate as Rongniang’s, but together, they formed a breathtaking harmony.
"Mother, I plan to hire some help—one for chores, one to attend to me, and a porter to deliver goods. That way, I won’t have to go out as often," Jin Niang said.
As much as she reveled in her newfound beauty, she knew that without power to protect it, beauty could easily make one a plaything.
Luo Yu'e protested at once. "Why so many?"
"We need someone to cook and wash clothes, don’t we? At the embroidery shop, I’ll need someone to do my hair and assist customers. And if deliveries are required, we’ll need a porter. But let me be clear—I’ll pay the cook’s wages, while you and Father cover the food."
Luo Yu'e agreed immediately. "Of course. Once the Stinky Water Alley house is rented, all that income can go toward their wages."
"No need. Younger Brother Yang will have expenses. Just handle the food, and in the future, you and Father won’t have to rush back from business trips—I’ll have things delivered to you."
With that, mother and daughter settled their household plans.
The Stinky Water Alley house was rented out within a day—three strings of cash per month, paid quarterly on the tenth, with a one-string deposit. Luo Yu'e pocketed ten strings right away.
Meanwhile, Jin Niang was busy hiring staff. The first to arrive was Matchmaker Jiang from the neighborhood, bustling in with a few girls in tow. She curtsied at once. "Greetings, Miss Wei. I heard you’re looking for servants, so I’ve brought a few for your consideration."
"Matchmaker Jiang, please sit. Let me pour you some tea." Jin Niang scooped loose leaves into a celadon cup with floral motifs and handed it to her.
Impressed by the young lady’s courtesy, Matchmaker Jiang beamed. "You’re too kind, miss."
Jin Niang waved it off. "I hope you won’t find it lacking."
After a sip, Matchmaker Jiang set the cup down. "I’ve brought three girls. Which one catches your eye?" She assumed this soft-hearted young lady would take a liking to one, allowing her to hike the price.
To her surprise, Jin Niang said, "I’d like to know their prices first. To be frank, I just need a kitchen maid—any of them will do."
Matchmaker Jiang inwardly noted the girl’s shrewdness but gushed, "All three are excellent at making soups, delicate pastries, and even grand festival dishes!"
"Indeed, the people you've trained must be good. But may I first ask how much they charge?" Jin Niang had limited funds of her own.
After all, she wasn’t looking for highly skilled talents, nor did she need someone exceptionally beautiful—just ordinary individuals suited for her modest household.
Matchmaker Jiang quoted a price, but Jin Niang shook her head in refusal, thinking to herself how unscrupulous the matchmaker was.
Later, another matchmaker, Li, promised to bring candidates but suddenly disappeared. Jin Niang was beginning to find dealing with people the most challenging task.
Fortunately, another matchmaker, Bao, eventually arrived. She was straightforward, and Jin Niang inspected the four women she brought along. Two were slightly more refined in appearance, while the other two were plainer. Jin Niang asked them, "Who among you is skilled in the kitchen?"
Matchmaker Bao smiled. "Rest assured, they all are."
Jin Niang said, "I have some radishes here. Slice them into fine strips—let me see your skills."
Matchmaker Bao hadn’t expected Jin Niang to be so meticulous. Among the candidates, some were eager to prove themselves, while others wiped sweat nervously. After the radish-slicing test, they moved on to kneading dough and preparing a bowl of fish soup. The best performer turned out to be a stout, unremarkable-looking girl. Jin Niang spoke with her further and inquired with Matchmaker Bao about her background.
She had previously served a concubine in a military official’s household, but after the concubine offended the main wife, she was sold off as well.
Jin Niang fell silent for a long moment before saying, "Matchmaker Bao, I’ll take her on for a month’s trial. I’ll pay her wages directly. If she proves satisfactory, I’ll finalize the contract with you. If not, I’ll return her."
Matchmaker Bao, having received an extra twenty coins for her trouble, agreed, and Jin Niang kept the girl.
Once the kitchen maid was settled, another group arrived in the afternoon—this time for the position of a personal maid. Jin Niang didn’t want someone too opinionated or overly clever—just a normal, agreeable girl who could get along with her.
The tests this time involved serving tea, hairstyling, and needlework. Skill wasn’t the priority, as long as she could follow instructions.
Thus, another girl was selected for a month’s trial.
As for the shop assistant, Jin Niang chose Chen Xiaolang from the foul-smelling alley. A year older than Younger Brother Yang, Chen had once been exceptionally bright—even surpassing him in studies. But after his father abandoned the family for another woman and his mother ran off, he had to rely on his grandparents. He studied under Scholar Gou for a year, but after his grandfather passed away, he often went hungry. That day, when Jin Niang’s mother returned to the alley to fetch some remaining belongings, she learned that Chen Xiaolang’s grandmother had also died of illness.
Jin Niang and Luo Yu'e gathered old quilts and padded jackets to furnish their living quarters.
The girl assigned to serve Jin Niang was named Ying, twelve years old. Her mother had died when she was three, and after her father remarried, her stepmother treated her cruelly. She was first sent off as a child bride for a sickly boy, but when the boy died shortly after, she was sold off.
Jin Niang gave her an old chest in the storage room behind the western bathhouse, along with bedding she had used at the Zhou household, a wooden basin, a towel, and even a box of pastries in case she got hungry. Despite her humble origins, Ying had a strong sense of pride—she repaid kindness tenfold.
Seeing Jin Niang’s breathtaking beauty and impeccable manners, Ying grew even more fond of her.
"Young mistress, you’ve been too kind to me," she said.
Jin Niang smiled. "Then remember what I ask of you."
Ying blinked. "What would that be?"
"Nothing too demanding. Before 7 a.m. each day, you must tidy my room, wash my clothes, and hang them to dry behind the building. At 7 a.m., come help me dress and style my hair. We’ll go downstairs for breakfast at 8 a.m. At the shop, you’ll learn to brew and serve tea—I’ll teach you the proper method. For casual visitors, serve loose tea; for regular customers who’ve placed orders, prepare it properly. You’ll also measure clients and show them my design catalogs."
So it was just that simple. Ying quickly replied, "I’ll do everything you’ve said, young mistress."
"Good. Ask me if you’re ever unsure," Jin Niang said.
Ying’s arrangements were settled, and Juxiang’s were straightforward too. Her bed was placed in the woodshed beside the kitchen. Jin Niang laid out her duties clearly: "You’ll prepare breakfast by 8 a.m. Five days out of ten, serve congee; the other five, solid meals. Lunch is at noon, dinner at 5 p.m. My mother will provide rice, flour, and vegetables, while I’ll buy firewood and fine charcoal. Occasionally, I’ll give you money for extra treats. Washing clothes and sweeping the courtyard are also your responsibilities."
Juxiang nodded eagerly.
As for Chen Xiaolang, now dressed in Younger Brother Yang’s hand-me-downs, he looked even more refined. Jin Niang smiled and said, "Since you’ve agreed to work here, do your best. You’ll sleep behind the embroidery room. During the day, you’ll deliver goods, run errands, and keep the front area clean. Wash your own clothes, and don’t bring chamber pots inside—use the outhouse in the back. At night, stay alert. There’s plenty of fabric here, and if any of it burns, you’ll have to compensate."
She then explained the shop’s opening hours and the cleaning tasks required beforehand.
With the new hires, Luo Yu'e was freed from chores. Meals and laundry were now handled by others, allowing the couple to focus solely on their shop.
The next morning, Ying had already cleaned the upstairs room spotless. She filled an iron flask with warm water for laundry—only undergarments needed daily washing in winter, so she finished quickly. After hanging the clothes, she fetched hot water from the kitchen to wake Jin Niang.
Once dressed meticulously, Jin Niang went downstairs for breakfast—millet porridge, pickled vegetables, and a boiled egg prepared by Juxiang.
After the meal, she instructed Ying on measuring clients, interacting with customers, and had Chen Xiaolang practice responses. She even asked her father to teach him how to ride a donkey and drive a cart.
To her surprise, Ying excelled in handling people, performing even better than expected. Chen Xiaolang had an excellent memory—he quickly grasped bookkeeping and calculations after she taught him.
Both of them admired Jin Niang deeply. Watching her sketch intricate jasmine flowers, they marveled in silence.
Jin Niang glanced up at them and smiled. "Let’s prepare everything today. We’ll open tomorrow."
She finished two undergarments, an outer robe, two pleated skirts, and several embroidered pouches—all exquisite. Silently, she prayed for a prosperous opening day.
