The sky was just beginning to lighten as the courtyard was swept clean. Juxiang tossed the broom aside and went inside to check on the dough, which had risen nicely. She pulled it from the basin, pinched off portions, rolled them out with a rolling pin, and quickly wrapped dumplings filled with shepherd's purse. These she placed in the steamer.
Today was the opening day of the embroidery shop, and the mistress had specifically instructed them to prepare hearty food to keep everyone full.
While waiting for the steamer to heat up, Juxiang fetched another bucket of water. The Wei household was truly convenient—right outside the kitchen was a well, and its water tasted sweet.
As the dumplings neared readiness, she adjusted the charcoal in the stove, placing finer pieces on top. Reluctantly, she filled a copper bed warmer with hot water. The charcoal was for the mistress, but the bed warmer was for Ying. The mistress was kind in every way, perhaps too lenient with the servants. But then again, Juxiang herself was a servant, so this thought brought her some balance.
Thanks to her successful weight loss over the past half year, Jin Niang’s stomach had shrunk considerably. Even with such delicious dumplings, she only ate five or six.
Meanwhile, Young Master Chen, still growing, devoured sixteen in one go—truly, a boy his age could eat his father out of house and home.
Once in the front hall, Jin Niang exchanged glances with Ying and Young Master Chen before each went about their duties. Ying brought a charcoal brazier to Jin Niang’s side, along with a small red clay stove. She arranged a selection of treats—lion-shaped pastries, Sichuan milk candies, apple spirals, peach rings, date jujubes, and pear slices—in a lacquered box on the tea cabinet.
Young Master Chen opened the shop door and stood outside to attract customers. At his age, he was too shy to call out, but the mistress didn’t force him, simply instructing him to occasionally ask passersby if they needed any needlework done.
"Young Master Chen, set off the firecrackers outside," Jin Niang said.
The firecrackers crackled like wisps of smoke, but even after an hour, no customers had arrived. Young Master Chen and Ying grew restless, but Jin Niang only smiled. "You two little rascals, I’m working on a collar trim. Don’t fret—this is how it always is."
Sweetwater Lane lay behind the Embroidery Market, surrounded by bead shops, silk stores, and tea houses. The people here were even wealthier than those in the Embroidery Market—otherwise, Jin Niang wouldn’t have spent a thousand strings of cash on this plot of land.
She then called Young Master Chen inside to warm up. "Don’t catch a chill. Go to your sister Ying and warm your hands with the bed warmer."
Before she could finish, a maid dressed in lake-blue satin entered. Ying and Young Master Chen perked up, but the maid said, "Second Miss, my mistress woke up dizzy today and couldn’t come. She sent me with a gift instead."
This maid served Rongniang, and Jin Niang knew full well Rongniang would never come. These women appeared carefree, enjoying others’ spectacles but resenting anyone who might outshine them.
Rongniang’s gift was a bolt of plain silk worth about five mace. Jin Niang had Ying store it away and tipped the maid half a mace of silver.
Next came An Ping, Ying Niang’s husband. "Second Sister, Ying Niang sent this. I’m delivering medicine to the east side of town today, so I’m afraid I won’t be able to stay and support your opening."
Ying Niang always followed Rongniang’s lead—if Rongniang didn’t come, neither would she. Her gift was two jars of tea.
"No matter. Our business is built on steady, gradual growth. Go ahead with your work," Jin Niang replied politely from behind the door.
After both parties left, Jin Niang returned to her embroidery.
Ying hovered nearby, eager to speak, but remembering Jin Niang’s instructions, she sat quietly, her head craned high. Even the flutter of a bird’s wings at the door made her jump up.
As the sun rose, the streets grew lively.
Young Master Chen finally ushered in a lady accompanied by two maids holding veiled hats—clearly a woman of means out for a day of shopping.
Jin Niang rose gracefully. The lady, struck by Jin Niang’s attire—a cream-colored underrobe paired with a pale violet satin skirt embroidered with peonies, a pink velvet-lined satin overcoat, her hair in hanging loops adorned with a gold comb and flowing ribbons—stepped back as if entering a celestial grotto.
Only upon seeing Jin Niang’s shadow did she laugh. "I just wanted to look around."
"Of course. Let me show you what we have," Jin Niang offered.
Charmed by Jin Niang’s beauty and gentle manner, the lady warmed to her. When Ying served tea, she took a sip and noticed the fine brocade covering the divan she sat on.
Jin Niang brought out several embroidered pieces but didn’t push a sale, letting the lady browse at her leisure.
Too much enthusiasm would overwhelm a customer—this was just right.
The lady pointed to the decorative pillows on the divan. "May I buy these?"
Those pillows had cost Jin Niang much effort and weren’t for sale. She smiled wryly. "These aren’t available, but I can make you a similar pair if you’d like."
Embarrassed, the lady stood and examined a embroidered bodice, her face lighting up at the exquisite craftsmanship—jasmine flowers stitched onto golden-yellow satin, fresh and elegant.
"How much for this?"
"Our prices are clearly marked. This one is two hundred fifty coins," Jin Niang said.
The lady found it a bargain—similar pieces in the Embroidery Market cost at least three hundred coins and lacked such refinement. She paid without hesitation.
Ying gaped. No wonder the mistress wasn’t worried—this shop didn’t open often, but when it did, the profits were substantial.
Yet that was their only sale that day. Ying and Young Master Chen fretted, but Jin Niang reassured them. To celebrate the opening, she had Juxiang prepare four platters of dishes and four small plates, along with a pot of wine and a pot of noodles. They all ate their fill.
After dinner, Jin Niang returned to her room to embroider collars, urging Ying to rest first. Starting a business required persistence—every shop had to endure a slow beginning.
So even when the next two days brought less than a hundred coins in earnings, Jin Niang kept her head down, sketching patterns and stitching without pause. Ying and Young Master Chen worried silently, fearing that if the mistress didn’t earn enough, they might lose their positions.
Luckily, on the fourth day, a customer bought four pouches embroidered with plum, orchid, bamboo, and chrysanthemum, along with a pleated skirt and a bodice—totaling exactly one string of cash.
The two servants finally exhaled in relief.
Just as that customer left, another arrived with fabric for two brocade outfits, paying one string and eight mace for Jin Niang’s work.
"This is your deposit receipt. You’ll need to present it when you come to collect the goods—we recognize the receipt, not the person." Jin Niang finished speaking and stamped the document with her seal.
The receipt listed the pickup date and the items to be collected. Jin Niang then recorded the transaction in her ledger, ensuring everything was properly documented.
Once the customer left, she immediately set to work cutting several pieces of fabric. Only someone with her level of experience could handle such precise cutting. The leftover scraps were carefully stored for future use, perhaps as trim or embellishments.
As she sat working, a young woman entered the shop. The woman had dimples that appeared when she smiled, giving her a sweet and charming expression. Jin Niang greeted her warmly, "Fengying, you’re here."
Qu Fengying was the young mistress of a nearby silk merchant’s shop. She was sharp-witted and full of business acumen—Jin Niang sourced her fabrics from Fengying’s family. Their accounts were settled every three months, with payments adjusted based on actual usage.
Fengying also had a knack for maintaining good relationships. When Jin Niang first opened her shop, Fengying hadn’t even been informed, yet she took the initiative to send a congratulatory flower basket.
For some reason, a saying came to Jin Niang’s mind: People strive for higher places, water flows to lower ground. The sentiment might seem calculating, but it held truth. Now that she had her own shop and home, the people she interacted with were of a higher standing. Even if they harbored unspoken judgments, they at least maintained a veneer of politeness.
In short, everyone was a person of propriety.
Fengying, however, didn’t overthink such matters. Seeing how kind-faced and self-reliant Jin Niang was—building her own business without family support—she felt a kinship. Fengying’s family had originally been from Jiangxi, where they made their fortune in porcelain, amassing tens of thousands in wealth. But after her parents’ sudden deaths, she was raised by her grandparents. During that time, greedy relatives schemed and fought over the inheritance, but she managed to preserve a thousand acres of fertile land and this shop, which had cost ten thousand taels to establish.
"What are you working on now?" Fengying asked as she sat down, noticing Jin Niang already deep in her task.
Jin Niang smiled. "This is a brocade robe with wide sleeves that a customer ordered. The collar will be embroidered with gold thread—see, they even provided the thread themselves."
Fengying asked, "How long will it take?"
"If I work quickly, one day. If not, maybe two or three. My prices are the fairest around," Jin Niang said, shaking her head.
But to customers, she always quoted ten days. This way, she could account for any unexpected delays—after all, running a business meant preparing for the unforeseen.
"Ying, bring some tea," she called out.
If she had a more presentable assistant, Jin Niang wouldn’t have to personally showcase her garments to every visitor. These back-and-forth interactions wasted time. But hiring a skilled and presentable maid would cost at least twenty taels—far beyond her current means.
Ying soon arrived with tea. Fengying took a few sips, and Jin Niang, sensing she had something on her mind, asked, "What’s the matter? You seem like you want to say something."
"It’s nothing major," Fengying admitted, lowering her head. "My family arranged a match for me. We met once, but I—"
Jin Niang understood. "You’re not interested? That’s perfectly normal."
"But I’m already twenty-one," Fengying sighed, pressing a hand to her forehead.
Such personal matters were difficult to discuss with her grandparents, but with Jin Niang—who was around the same age and also unmarried—she felt at ease.
Jin Niang nodded. "Marriage is a lifelong commitment. If you’re not fond of him from the start, spending a lifetime together would be difficult."
At Fengying’s station in life—with considerable wealth at her disposal—it was only natural she’d want a partner who truly suited her.
Her words resonated with Fengying, who then asked, "Aren’t you worried about it?"
After all, Jin Niang was nearly twenty herself.
But Jin Niang shook her head. "My parents and siblings are very close to me, and I’ve always had a talent for embroidery. Honestly, my life has few regrets. As they say, When the water is full, it overflows; when the moon is full, it wanes. If my marriage prospects aren’t ideal, perhaps it’s for the best. Life is rarely perfect—if everything went my way, disaster might be looming."
Just being able to lose weight this year and complete the renovations on her home already felt like immense blessings.
Fengying found her perspective intriguing. Perhaps excessive perfection wasn’t necessarily a good thing.
"Somehow, I always feel better after talking to you," Fengying remarked.
"Then visit more often," Jin Niang teased.
Before she could say more, a customer entered asking for an official’s robe. Jin Niang quickly clarified, "We can only alter existing official robes—making new ones privately is forbidden."
No matter the trade, one had to know the rules. Cutting corners for petty gains wasn’t worth the risk.
Seeing how cautious Jin Niang was, Fengying suggested, "One of our silk shop’s patrons recently mentioned wanting new clothes for his household’s women. Why don’t you visit our shop? If you can secure his business, you’ll have no shortage of orders."
"Thank you, but I’m too busy right now," Jin Niang declined. She wasn’t ready to tie herself to a single client.
She was still building her own customer base. If she committed to one household’s demands, she’d be working day and night to meet deadlines—only to earn wages comparable to what she made now.
Fengying was slightly disappointed by her inflexibility but also relieved. Mutual benefit sustained relationships, but true reliability meant having someone who’d lend a hand in hard times.
After all, a person needed all kinds of friends.
Jin Niang’s words deepened Fengying’s trust in her. With no conflicting interests between them, their bond felt purer.
Fengying then brought up a personal matter: "A certain lady borrowed five hundred taels from our family. She repaid previous loans, but this one remains unsettled."
"Have you sent someone to collect?" Jin Niang asked without looking up from her embroidery.
Fengying shook her head. "She’s related to Chief Minister Zhao. We’ll have to let it go."
In the capital, most major businesses had ties to officials—otherwise, they’d never grow so large. This was precisely why Jin Niang preferred steady, cautious growth. Her goal was simple: earn at least twenty-six strings of cash per month. Six would go toward repaying her loans, and the rest could mostly be saved. In a year, she’d accumulate two to three hundred strings—all without ever leaving her shop.
The old saying held true: Commoners should never challenge officials.
After Fengying left, Jin Niang examined the collar trim. This time, she planned to use raised embroidery—a technique she’d learned at the Imperial Embroidery Academy, where threads created a textured, three-dimensional effect.
While Jin Niang proceeded with care, Feng Sheng was causing trouble. Chief Physician Zhao had assigned him a high-paying but demanding case—a patient whose condition required constant attention, leaving Feng Sheng sleepless through freezing nights, without even time for basic needs.
Despite this, Feng Sheng managed to return briefly while Lin Ge'er was hiring a tutor, only to be reprimanded by Chief Physician Zhao. The scolding left him so uneasy that he barely dared to eat or even relieve himself, to the point where he felt utterly miserable.
Rongniang tried to console him: "Why not let another physician handle it? It’s almost New Year’s—you should take a break."
Already irritated, Feng Sheng grew furious at her words: "How can I rest? Every physician at our clinic is just as busy. Fine, forget outsiders—just look at your own sisters! Your second sister runs her own shop, opening at dawn and stitching late into the night, afraid she might miss customers needing mending. Your third sister sold herbs even while heavily pregnant, scraping calluses and sending tonics to flatter noblewomen. If you were more capable, would I need to push myself like this?"
Arguments always bring out the worst words. Tears welled in Rongniang’s eyes as she pointed at him: "I never thought you saw me this way! I told you not to buy such a big house, but you insisted. Now we’re stuck with a monthly debt of over thirty strings of cash, barely able to afford anything—and somehow it’s all my fault?"
"Oh, so you had no complaints when you enjoyed the benefits?" Feng Sheng felt nothing but exhaustion.
Furious, Rongniang stormed out. She initially considered going to Ying Niang’s, as they were close, but remembering Ying Niang lived with in-laws and other outsiders, she headed to Jin Niang’s instead. After all, Jin Niang ran her own shop, and her uncle and aunt were family.
When she arrived, Jin Niang had just finished a brocade gown and taken another order—a robe embroidered with peony medallions on the chest and shoulders, priced at three strings of cash for ten days’ work.
After delegating the task, Jin Niang noticed Rongniang’s disheveled hair and greeted her: "Elder Sister, what brings you here? Ying, prepare tea."
Rongniang avoided the truth, offering an excuse: "I just came to see how your business is doing."
"Scraping by, really. Come inside—it’s warmer by the brazier," Jin Niang invited her in.
Rongniang expected probing questions, but Jin Niang barely looked up, absorbed in her work. A maid and a young assistant lazed about, seemingly more at ease than their mistress.
"Why not hire a skilled maid? It’d lighten your load."
Jin Niang covered a laugh: "Sister, do you think I haven’t considered that? A decently presentable maid costs over twenty strings. For one truly skilled in needlework? The price is even steeper."
It’s not like I’m avoiding Tsinghua because I don’t want to go.
Her priority was hiring help for chores, freeing her to focus on embroidery.
Rongniang saw the logic but bristled at Jin Niang’s tone, as if mocking her ignorance. She thought of the ladies she socialized with—women like her, living comfortably off their husbands’ wealth, with servants and carriages, yet unable to control their men.
Some even confided: "My husband’s started dressing up—must’ve spotted some girl. Honestly, I hope she keeps him happy. At least he feels guilty toward me."
In those moments, Rongniang felt a flicker of pride: Feng Sheng wasn’t a philanderer, worked hard, and never scorned her family.
But she never imagined he’d scorn her for being useless.
Just as she was about to speak, Young Chen entered: "Madam, Boss Cheng from the pearl shop sent a jar of Yuxu wine from Huixian Tower, two roast ducks, two chickens, a basket of fresh fish, a pork knuckle, and ten boxes of osmanthus cakes."
Jin Niang replied: "Record them in the gift ledger, then prepare a jar of Biguang wine from Shilou, two boxes of delicate pastries, and send back lotus roots, lotus seeds, water chestnuts, taro, foxnuts, water caltrops, arrowheads, and lilies."
Young Chen scribbled frantically with a chicken-feather brush before rushing off to shop.
Rongniang, amazed at Jin Niang’s effortless recall, asked: "Why would Boss Cheng send you gifts?"
"Oh, a client wanted pearls, and I recommended him since Boss Cheng is reliable and his goods are fine. Sometimes clients need pearls for collars, so I direct them there. He’s quite decent," Jin Niang explained.
Nodding, Rongniang cautiously probed further: "Do you earn two hundred strings a year?"
Jin Niang smiled: "Roughly. But business fluctuates—some months more, some less."
Rongniang froze. Feng Sheng earned about fifty strings monthly, but thirty went to debts. Between children, servants, and his expenses, little remained. Jin Niang made half his income, yet her debts were minimal, her staff small, and her shop her own—far less strain.
"Don’t you get tired?" Rongniang watched Jin Niang’s hands never stop.
Jin Niang pondered: "Embroidery is my passion. The fatigue is worth it—it’s given me everything. Besides, my efforts bear fruit."
Exactly. Others worked hard and reaped rewards. She worked just as hard, yet gained nothing—blamed by her husband, while the children idolized him despite her sacrifices.
Pointless. Utterly pointless.
She stood abruptly and left. Jin Niang, busy splitting threads, only noticed her absence later. Ying said she’d gone home, and Jin Niang thought little of it.
Whether Rongniang’s troubles were domestic or otherwise, meddling in family affairs only made one a busybody.
After lunch and tea, Jin Niang prepared to nap when a customer entered. Noting the woman’s high cheekbones, narrow eyes, and furrowed brow—signs of a difficult patron—she went to intervene.
"Is this all your embroidery?" The woman flipped through the items disdainfully.
Jin Niang smiled: "We’re an embroidery shop, not a clothing store. What design did you need?"
Some customers browsed sincerely; others just sought trouble. The latter deserved no patience.
"I was just looking," the woman muttered, cowed by Jin Niang’s steel beneath silk.
Jin Niang said, "Very well, let me know if you need anything." With that, she didn’t go inside but remained seated at the counter.
The woman browsed left and right, complaining about everything—some colors were ugly, some designs were outdated, and even the fabric was poor quality. At one point, she pinched a delicate undergarment between her fingernails and sneered, "How shameless! Embroidering such things. I ought to spread the word that your shop sells indecent wares."
There was no need to even show her the pattern book—Jin Niang’s portfolio was her secret weapon. The noblewoman who had previously ordered the peony embroidery had been instantly won over after flipping through it.
The woman raised her voice, but Jin Niang kept her head down. Ying and Chen Xiaolang both remembered the third rule of the embroidery shop: If no other customers were present and someone was making unreasonable demands, they were to be ignored.
Seeing that no one paid her any attention, the woman muttered a few vulgar curses before storming out.
Once she was gone, Ying couldn’t hold back. "I almost snapped at her just now! Every shop sells undergarments—what’s the big deal?"
"People like that are like mad dogs—best not to engage. In our shop, you’d hardly find one such troublemaker in ten," Jin Niang replied calmly.
But no sooner had the shrew left than the guild leader of the embroidery district arrived, claiming someone had reported her for selling obscene items. Jin Niang, knowing full well this was sabotage, feigned indignation. "What nonsense! I used to work at the Imperial Embroidery Academy—here’s my old badge. I was even a lead embroiderer. Do you think I wouldn’t know the rules?"
The guild leader inspected her work and, impressed by the exquisite craftsmanship, guessed, "It must’ve been a rival who reported you. Don’t worry, you’re fine."
Jin Niang finally relaxed. "With your judgment, I’m at ease. This house and shop are mine—all deeds and contracts are in order."
"Pay it no mind," the guild leader said sympathetically. This trade always had such people—those who couldn’t excel themselves but envied others.
Many talented young embroiderers had been driven out this way.
Jin Niang then had Ying fetch two boxes of osmanthus cakes, a gift from Boss Cheng, and presented them to the guild leader. "Please look after us in the future," she said warmly.
After the guild leader left, Chen Xiaolang asked, "Do you think they’ll cause more trouble?"
"Whether they do or not, I won’t back down. I wasn’t raised to be frightened off so easily," Jin Niang declared, unwavering.
Ying admired her deeply. Most women, after being insulted and falsely accused, would be disheartened—some might even consider shutting down. But Jin Niang acted as if nothing had happened. Even when reported to the guild, she stood firm. Such resilience was rare indeed.
