Several peaceful days passed before Ying asked Jin Niang, "How do we find out who's behind all this?"
"Those people could be one or several. If they had real ability, they wouldn’t resort to such underhanded methods. They’re nothing more than snakes, insects, rats, and ants—hardly worth worrying about," Jin Niang replied.
When her parents heard about the situation, her mother asked her father’s former comrade-in-arms to visit the shop as a deterrent against troublemakers. The man, now serving under the Deputy Commander of the Palace Command, made a point of stopping by in full military attire.
But Jin Niang knew that while open attacks were easy to avoid, hidden schemes were harder to guard against.
So she instructed Chen Xiaolang to be more vigilant—taking the money to her room before leaving the counter each day, locking up the expensive silks, and ensuring the charcoal brazier in the embroidery room was doused with water before they left.
Chen Xiaolang grew nervous. "Miss, what if thieves come?"
"They won’t. Arson and assault would land them in prison for life. Besides, there are water vats outside to put out fires, and my father is at home—just call for help from the back if anything happens, understand?" Jin Niang reassured him.
Juxiang, gripping a fire poker, added, "There’s nothing to fear."
Jin Niang smiled. "No need to be overly cautious. I just like to prepare for the worst, but those people probably won’t dare do anything."
Her words eased everyone’s worries. Luo Yu'e laughed, "Our family has seven members—who’d be foolish enough to mess with us?"
Ying loved it here. The master was kind and honest, the mistress straightforward and never cruel, the young master diligent and sincere, and Jin Niang treated her with warmth and respect. The household was harmonious, free from scheming or unsavory affairs. She linked arms with Jin Niang, looking around contentedly.
"Let’s all rest now," Jin Niang said.
Luo Yu'e added another layer of straw beneath Chen Xiaolang’s bedding in the embroidery room’s side chamber, patting it to ensure warmth before retiring to her own room.
Seven or eight uneventful days later, everyone finally relaxed.
By then, it was nearly Minor New Year, and Jin Niang’s parents had closed their breakfast stall. They planned to find a new location near Sweetwater Alley next year, as rent at their current shop kept rising.
That morning, Luo Yu'e prepared breakfast—a hearty pork tripe and glutinous rice porridge, a local specialty from Anlu. They had bought the ingredients at a north-south goods store and were delighted with the find.
After breakfast, customers came to collect their orders. Jin Niang verified the receipts and had Ying hand them over.
In just half a month, Jin Niang had earned fourteen strings of cash. As she cut out embroidered butterflies, Ying asked curiously, "Miss, do people really buy these?"
"Of course. This is called appliqué embroidery. I learned it after becoming a lead embroiderer at the Imperial Embroidery Academy. Some shops in the embroidery lane specialize in selling these. I’ll make a box of them—if anyone commissions work by year-end, I can just stitch these on." Jin Niang no longer regretted her time at the Zhou household or the Imperial Embroidery Academy.
At the Zhou residence, she had spent three years honing her skills and cultivating humility. At the academy, she learned self-reflection, management, and how to navigate social hierarchies—understanding what to say and when, and how perspectives shift with status.
However, the fabric she wanted wasn’t available here, so she went to Qu Fengying’s shop instead. Ying quickly draped her cloak over her shoulders, and the two soon arrived.
"I’d like to see the cloud-patterned silk," Jin Niang requested. As the clerk fetched it, she spotted a familiar face—none other than Brother Kuang San, now directing workers to load colorful silks onto a carriage. His role as a purchasing agent suggested he had been promoted to steward.
Was the Zhou family preparing for a celebration?
Third Miss Zhou was seventeen, and Fourth Miss Zhou fifteen—which one was it for?
Meanwhile, Fourth Miss Zhou sat at her dressing table as her maid combed her hair, smooth as satin. Her reflection revealed delicate, striking features.
Ruo Liu praised, "Miss, your hair is truly beautiful."
Three years ago, Jiang Fang had passed the imperial exams and been assigned to a provincial post. Third Miss Zhou had been too young then, and the family hadn’t wanted her to endure hardship as a bride, so the wedding was delayed. Now that Jiang Fang had returned, preparations were underway.
But the Zhou family’s fortunes had waned. Third Miss Zhou’s dowry reportedly totaled only five thousand taels—two thousand for the trousseau and three thousand as reserve funds. Fourth Miss Zhou’s would likely be even smaller. Still, she had saved Eldest Miss Zhou’s life, sparing herself the fate of being a replacement bride.
Sadly, Cousin Mei had succumbed to illness, and the old madam remained bedridden. Fourth Miss Zhou now relied on the old madam’s quarters for shelter. With the matriarch’s impending passing, the family would enter mourning—which was why her father and Madam Jiang treated her with slightly more consideration.
"Let’s go pay respects to Madam first, then attend to Grandmother," Fourth Miss Zhou said, rising.
At Madam Jiang’s door, the maid announced that Madam was receiving a nephew from her maternal family who had brought festival gifts. Fourth Miss Zhou waited in the side chamber until a finely dressed young man emerged—his golden crown and striking features making him unforgettable at first glance.
"Fourth Miss, that must be Madam’s nephew, the sixteenth young master," Ruo Liu whispered.
Jiang Shiliu—Jiang Xian?
After Zhou Cunzhi’s demotion and subsequent reinstatement, this man had played a key role. Fourth Miss Zhou had read about him in the novel’s epilogue: a youth of beauty and sharp wit, who later became a cunning, power-hungry official colluding with eunuchs—a notorious villain who met a tragic end, exiled and dying far from home.
Entering the main room, she found Madam Jiang in unusually high spirits. Lately, Madam’s temper had been volatile, likely due to her age—yet Jiang Xian had charmed her effortlessly. No wonder he came alone now, unlike previous visits with Jiang Yan.
"Madam."
Madam Jiang nodded. "Child, with your sister’s wedding keeping me busy, I’ll rely on you to care for Grandmother."
In truth, Lady Zhang, Zhou Cunzhi’s wife, was handling the arrangements. With Zhou Cunzhi stationed elsewhere, she managed all household affairs—Madam Jiang simply wanted to avoid nursing duties.
But Fourth Miss Zhou played along. "Madam’s efforts are known to all. This daughter merely does her duty."
"Since you're so sensible, I feel at ease. Good child, you serve your grandmother with such filial piety—your father and I won’t let you down." Madam Jiang’s words carried a hidden meaning.
Fourth Miss Zhou’s heart skipped a beat. This was surely about her marriage prospects.
Three years ago, her father had taken a liking to Han Xiao, but such a talented young scholar had already been chosen as a son-in-law by the Chancellor of the Jixian Academy. Unfortunately, his wife had passed away from illness just a year after their marriage.
Could it be him?
The southern Minor New Year had passed on the 24th, but the north remained a frozen wasteland. Jin Niang instructed Chen Xiaolang to sweep the snow at the doorstep each day before coming inside.
Today, Jin Niang had embroidered eight butterflies, all neatly placed in a box. She glanced at the darkening sky outside and said to the others, "Let’s close early today. With such cold weather, few customers will likely come."
Unexpectedly, the door opened, and they turned to see a slender girl with her hair in twin buns, clutching a bundle as she hurried in from the snow.
Ying quickly stepped forward to brush the snowflakes off her and brought her a cup of hot tea.
"Our mistress has a kesi gown that was torn by a nail. I wonder if it can be mended?" the maid asked.
Jin Niang studied her for a long moment before saying, "Si’er? Is that you?"
Though she had grown taller and fuller, her features were still familiar.
The maid—now called Xiang Ming—startled. Few knew her by her old name. Cautiously, she replied, "May I ask who you are...?"
Jin Niang had slimmed down and dressed differently now. The dim light likely made it hard for Xiang Ming to recognize her, so she smiled. "It’s me, Jin Niang. Remember? We worked together in the embroidery workshop."
Xiang Ming gasped in disbelief. The two exchanged stories of their lives since then, sighing over the twists of fate.
After Jin Niang and the others left, the embroidery workshop had been disbanded. Xiang Ming was later assigned to serve Madam Jiang and had since become a third-rank maid in her household.
"I never imagined Sister Jin Niang would have such fortune," Xiang Ming murmured, still lost in memories.
Noticing the late hour, Jin Niang turned to business. "You need the gown repaired?"
Xiang Ming wiped her brow. "Yes. Third Miss is about to marry, and this is Madam’s favorite gown. It was snagged on a nail, but none of the embroiderers in the market could fix it."
"This is palace-grade kesi. Even in the Imperial Embroidery Academy, few know how to mend it," Jin Niang examined the fabric.
Xiang Ming’s eyes widened. "Can you do it, Sister?"
Jin Niang smiled. "Repairing this will take at least five days, possibly ten. But since it’s you, I’ll work nights to finish it in five. Send someone to collect it the day before New Year’s Eve. However, it won’t be cheap..."
She wanted to be upfront to avoid souring their friendship over money.
Xiang Ming nodded. "If you can mend it, name your price."
"Three strings of cash." Jin Niang eyed the gown—the threads alone were rare outside the palace. She had only kept some from her time in the Imperial Embroidery Academy.
Xiang Ming thought the price fair and fetched a money box, handing over three taels. Jin Niang refused the excess, weighing out two hundred coins to return.
Xiang Ming protested, "Keep it, Sister."
"That’s not proper. You’ll need it more." Jin Niang knew how hard it was for a third-rank maid to advance under Madam Jiang’s strict senior servants, not to mention the constant social expenses among the staff.
Seeing Jin Niang’s resolve, Xiang Ming relented. As night deepened, she prepared to leave. Jin Niang handed her a receipt, assuring her to send someone for the gown later.
After Xiang Ming left, Jin Niang discussed sending New Year gifts to the Zhou family with her mother, Luo Yu'e. "Now that they know of us, it’s only proper to send something."
Luo Yu'e agreed but worried. "But their household is so grand—ordinary gifts might seem beneath them. What should we send?"
Gift-giving was a delicate art. Jin Niang wanted nothing from the Zhous, so an overly lavish present might seem boastful. It needed to be novel and tasteful. "Rice or pork would be too plain. Let’s visit Daxiangguo Temple tomorrow for something unique."
They debated further until Juxiang announced dinner, and the family gathered to eat.
The next morning, mother and daughter ordered four boxes each of butter spiral pastries and sweet dew cakes from a bakery, then sent Chen Xiaolang to reserve two jugs of flowing sunset wine at Gaoyang Tavern before heading to the temple.
Nuns sold hairbands, wigs, and hairpins, but anything decently crafted was pricey.
Jin Niang shook her head. "Let’s look further inside. If we find nothing, we’ll just send fabric."
After more browsing, they finally spotted a returning official’s consignment of green-ground hibiscus, camellia, and gardenia-patterned gauze. At four strings of cash per bolt, one hundred coins per foot, Jin Niang had an idea: one foot could make a handkerchief. Embroidering a single butterfly on each would be elegant and affordable.
"Shopkeeper, I’ll take four feet and four inches."
The shopkeeper’s hand twitched toward six feet, hoping to force a larger sale. Jin Niang placed four silver coins on the counter. "This is all I’m paying. Cut extra, and I won’t take it."
Caught, the man chuckled without shame. "You’re sharp for such a delicate-looking lady."
Jin Niang arched a brow, unbothered.
Back home, the streets bustled as Jin Niang set to work on the kesi gown, her plan already clear. She placed it on a separate frame.
"Miss! A customer wants festive robes for the Lantern Festival!" Ying called.
Jin Niang took a hurried sip of tea and greeted a mother-daughter pair, presenting a portfolio. "These are designs I’ve made over the years."
After speaking, noticing the young girl’s shyness, she couldn’t help but smile and said, “I see the young lady has a slender figure, which would suit pleated skirts very well—it would accentuate her grace. If paired with a satin-lined outer jacket, it would look even more lovely, embroidered with butterflies and peach blossoms to match the season…”
As she spoke, she flipped to another page in the catalog. The mother and daughter had never seen such an illustrated selection of garments before—everything looked exquisite.
They wanted this, they wanted that.
Jin Niang could tell and signaled Ying to serve tea. Ying, being sharp-witted, immediately recognized them as high-value customers and promptly brewed tea, bringing over two kinds of delicate pastries.
“No need to rush. Take your time choosing. If you have any questions, just ask me,” Jin Niang said with a smile.
In her past life, she had disliked shopping with salespeople hovering behind her, constantly pitching, so now as the shop owner, she kept her advice minimal.
After browsing for over an hour, the mother and daughter settled on their choices: the mother wanted a mid-length green straight-collar jacket and a red three-panel skirt, while the daughter opted for a misty-pink front-closing long jacket and a pleated skirt.
“Would you like to provide your own fabric, or shall we use the shop’s materials?” Jin Niang asked.
They chose the shop’s fabrics. Jin Niang explained, “There are two pricing options: without embroidery on the collar and cuffs, the total for these four pieces is twenty-three strings of cash. With embroidery, it’s twenty-five strings. Since we’re supplying both the lining and outer fabric, the base cost is already quite high…”
The mother and daughter had already been enchanted by the catalog, barely containing their excitement. After hearing Jin Niang’s explanation, they immediately agreed and paid twenty-five strings—five strings covered the cost, leaving a profit of twenty.
Handing them the receipt, Jin Niang exhaled in relief. Once they left, she sent Chen Xiaolang to buy more cotton batting, instructing him to inspect it carefully to avoid being swindled with subpar material. Meanwhile, she began organizing the fabrics and threads needed for the orders—these could wait until after the New Year.
Closing a big sale naturally lifted Jin Niang’s spirits.
For now, she focused on repairing the damaged kesi silk tapestry. The task required full concentration—the tears were small but in critical areas, which was why few dared to take on such work.
Midway through the restoration, she heard that Feng Sheng had fallen ill. “What’s wrong with him?” she asked.
“I’m not sure. The physician said it’s nothing serious, but your brother-in-law has been irritable and restless, suffering from insomnia and heart palpitations. He wakes up terrified in the middle of the night, bolting upright in bed,” Luo Yu'e recounted, baffled.
Jin Niang recognized it immediately as autonomic dysfunction. Feng Sheng, always competitive, had splurged on a five-thousand-string mansion and was now driving himself relentlessly to earn the money back. Anxiety had manifested physically. She, too, had once struggled with insomnia but compensated with daytime naps, nourishing soups, and knowing her limits.
Everyone had once envied Rongniang—orphaned young but married to the dashing, doting Feng Sheng. Now, with him in this state, Rongniang felt utterly alone. Even her uncle and aunt-in-law had only paid a brief visit before leaving…
“It’s all Jin Niang’s fault! If she hadn’t lied about buying a two-courtyard house, you wouldn’t have insisted on a three-courtyard mansion,” Rongniang grumbled, convinced it was deliberate.
They’d only learned later from Wei Xiong that Jin Niang’s “two-courtyard” home was actually a single-courtyard property partitioned into two.
Now Rongniang cried foul.
But Feng Sheng asked, “What did Chief Physician Zhao say?”
“Nothing much—just told you to rest well. With the New Year and Lantern Festival coming up, you might as well recover through the holidays,” Rongniang replied.
She was relieved at the extended break, raising no objections to the physician’s advice.
Feng Sheng, however, grew uneasy. The New Year was peak season for physicians—treating overeating injuries, carriage accidents, crowd crushes, and winter ailments. Why would he be sidelined for so long?
He threw off the covers, trying to rise, but Rongniang stopped him. “The physician prescribed medicine. You need quiet recovery.”
“I’m no miracle healer, nor do I have imperial connections. If I’m replaced now, what then?” Feng Sheng fretted.
Rongniang dismissed his worries. “Didn’t you say other clinics wanted you?”
Feng Sheng shook his head. “Leaving here would mean earning barely twenty strings a month elsewhere. That’s nothing. Let me go—don’t hold me back.”
Rongniang spread her arms. “You’re not well enough. You’re staying.”
After much pleading, Feng Sheng reluctantly agreed to convalesce at home.
Meanwhile, Jin Niang finished embroidering the handkerchiefs—square-cut from green kesi silk patterned with hibiscus, camellias, and gardenias, their edges neatly hemmed. She then appliquéd the pre-stitched butterflies onto each. Ying marveled at the variety: a regal swallowtail, a dainty white, a vibrant fritillary—all unique.
“So beautiful! Mistress, you’re a genius,” Ying gushed.
Jin Niang waved her off. “Hardly a genius—just meticulous work.”
On New Year’s Eve eve, Xiang Ming came to collect the items. Jin Niang entrusted her with delivering gifts to the main and secondary branches of the Zhou family—the former her past employers, the latter always kind through Madam Wu.
Xiang Ming noted the luxe quality, especially the handkerchiefs—light yet opulent.
They chatted awhile. Xiang Ming shared Zhou family news: “During Eldest Miss Zhou’s childbirth, she nearly died, but Fourth Miss Zhou’s care saved her. Since then, they’ve grown close. Second Miss Zhou married into the He family—she often complains in letters, but luckily Madam He, her aunt, treats her well. Third Miss Zhou weds this spring; her dowry scraped together five thousand taels. Next is Fourth Miss Zhou’s match with Judge Han—another five thousand taels. The household isn’t as comfortable as before.”
“Understandable,” Jin Niang said. “Marrying off daughters consecutively with hefty dowries would strain anyone. Still, official families fare better than us commoners.”
Now the second branch of the Zhou family also has children, and they even have a granddaughter. Everywhere requires money, so they can no longer afford to act as the endless purse for the main branch as they once did.
Xiang Ming smiled and asked, "Sister Jin Niang, have you settled on a marriage arrangement yet?"
"I... I'm still the same. I only just left the Embroidery Academy not long ago, and this shop has just opened. Besides, my parents are small-time merchants. The matches they favor might not be to my liking," Jin Niang replied with a bitter smile.
Xiang Ming had always admired Jin Niang and couldn't help saying, "With your character, looks, and talent, marrying some common peddler or laborer would truly be a waste."
She had an idea in mind—if Madam Jiang were willing to arrange a good match for Sister Jin Niang, it would be ideal. But she didn’t voice it now, fearing that if things didn’t work out, it would only lead to awkwardness. So she changed the subject and chatted idly for a while.
When they returned to the Zhou residence, Xiang Ming deliberately placed the gifts from Jin Niang at the forefront and said to Madam Jiang, "What a remarkable coincidence—this kesi embroidery was actually mended by Sister Jin Niang. She even became the head embroiderer at the Embroidery Academy, though later she chose not to take the palace examination to become a court lady. She wanted to stay close to her parents and care for them, so she bought a new house and shop near Sweetwater Lane outside the Great Xiangguo Temple. It must have cost several thousand taels of silver."
"Oh? She’s that capable?" Madam Jiang still had some recollection of her.
Xiang Ming smiled. "Look at the handkerchiefs she sent—one for you and one for Madam Wu. She said they were too crude to be worthy of your eyes."
Madam Jiang opened the box and saw two exquisitely embroidered handkerchiefs, so delicate and lovely that she couldn’t help remarking, "Such fine needlework is truly exceptional."
Madam Wu, who hadn’t expected Jin Niang to have achieved so much, suggested, "Eldest sister-in-law, why not invite the girl and her mother over for a chat during the Lantern Festival?"
"Hmm," Madam Jiang replied noncommittally.
Xiang Ming added mysteriously, "Sister Jin Niang has changed so much now—if you two ladies saw her, you’d surely be astonished."
This piqued the curiosity of both Madam Jiang and Madam Wu, who said, "Then send her an invitation at once. We can hardly wait to see her again."
