Jiang Xian was seated at the same table as Feng Sheng and An Ping, both sons-in-law of the Wei Family. The three men exchanged their ages and courtesy names, prompting An Ping to exclaim in surprise, "Come to think of it, Sixteenth Brother is actually three years younger than Second Elder Sister."
"What does that matter?" Jiang Xian himself didn’t mind, though he wondered why An Ping had brought it up. If it was intentional, it suggested An Ping wasn’t someone worth befriending; if unintentional, then the man was simply a bit dim.
An Ping had genuinely been curious and had spoken without thinking. Seeing Jiang Xian’s indifferent reaction, he felt awkward and tried to mask it by drinking. Meanwhile, Feng Sheng was silently laughing so hard his stomach hurt, amused by An Ping’s foolishness—no wonder even Ying Niang could manipulate him so easily.
But Feng Sheng wouldn’t step in to smooth things over. He had an inexplicable dislike for Jin Niang, finding her too calculating and scheming. How had she managed to attach herself to a prestigious family like the Jiangs? Earlier, when he’d glanced at the betrothal documents, he’d assumed the Jiang Family had declined over generations—until he heard Sixth Master Jiang mention his uncle’s current position in the Censorate and the noble origins of his son-in-law. That made Feng Sheng hold his tongue.
Still, he couldn’t help feeling resentful. Men like him had to struggle for everything, while these so-called noble sons were born with silver spoons in their mouths.
Yet Jin Niang’s marriage had opened his eyes to a new possibility: even these privileged young masters lacked money. Apparently, wealth could buy a good match after all.
Luo Yu'e, ever the doting mother-in-law, personally brought over a bowl of lotus root and pork rib soup. "This is nine-holed lotus root from our hometown," she said. "If not for a fellow townsman who runs a north-south goods shop, we wouldn’t have found it. Sixteenth Brother, try it—this kind of lotus root makes the soup wonderfully soft and starchy. I stewed it myself."
Jiang Xian took a sip. The lotus root was indeed tender and sticky, breaking apart with a pull. He smiled. "Thank you—it’s delicious. But in such hot weather, you really should rest."
"Just enjoy your meal—don’t worry about me," Luo Yu'e replied, delighted by the praise. Her son, Younger Brother Yang, was too taciturn, and her daughters were always too busy to keep her company. Her son-in-law, at least, had a sweet tongue.
Sixth Madam Jiang then had her daughter-in-law, Madam Xu, pull Luo Yu'e over to sit and chat. Since her financial situation had improved, Luo Yu'e had grown much more cheerful, even witty. Rongniang and Ying Niang, seated at the same table, found it almost ironic to see their usually stern aunt (or second aunt) grinning like a blooming flower.
Rongniang, in particular, noticed that while the Jiang Family appeared cordial toward the Wei Family, their attitude was subtly condescending.
Just then, Young Master Chen ushered in a female official dressed in a round-collared robe with a green tie-dyed pattern, a yellow waist apron tied with a silk sash.
As the hostess, Luo Yu'e stood first. "Miss, who are you looking for?"
"I’m an official from the Embroidery Bureau. I need to speak with Miss Wei."
Luo Yu'e quickly called Jin Niang down. Jiang Xian immediately turned to watch as Jin Niang, recognizing the woman, visibly relaxed. The two stepped aside to talk.
"Zhu Tingfang, did you pass the exams to become an official?"
"Yes. After you left, my position as inspector became redundant. Coincidentally, a batch of female officials had just departed the palace, so I took the exams and was assigned to the Wardrobe Bureau. But when the new head embroiderer at the Embroidery Bureau fell ill, I was asked to fill in temporarily. The previous head had neglected her duties, leaving many garments unfinished for the Mid-Autumn Festival. I thought of asking you to help—you’re familiar with the Bureau’s work and wouldn’t need lengthy explanations."
Zhu Tingfang added, "I got your address from Broker Cheng."
Jin Niang’s mind raced—this was a major opportunity. She agreed readily but cautioned, "The deadline is tight, but my embroidery shop is small, and I’m the only one working. I might not manage alone."
"Don’t worry—there are only seven pieces in total. I’ll bring the fabric and threads, and you know the usual rates."
Embroidery Bureau garments were far more intricate than ordinary ones, but completing these seven pieces in a month would earn her thirty-five taels—a worthwhile effort. She accepted on the spot.
Though Zhu Tingfang was merely a mid-ranking official, her court robes lent Jin Niang an air of prestige. After she left, the family regarded Jin Niang with newfound respect.
Luo Yu'e couldn’t resist asking, "What did that official want?"
"Nothing major—just some rush embroidery work for the palace," Jin Niang replied casually.
But to those unfamiliar with such matters, it seemed almost mystifyingly impressive.
After the Jiang Family left, Luo Yu'e packed up the leftover dishes, half for the next day and half for the evening meal. Small households knew how to stretch their resources.
"Younger Brother, open the door. I’ll change and start embroidering," Jin Niang said. She had orders to finish, dowry items to stitch, and now the Bureau’s commission.
Once the betrothal documents were exchanged, the groom’s family would soon send the betrothal gifts.
For the first time, Ying Niang and Rongniang realized Jin Niang was doing just as well as they were. In a single afternoon, she completed an entire garment, embroidering intricate patterns with eight different threads—a remarkable feat.
Rongniang couldn’t help advising, "Jin Niang, doesn’t your neck and back hurt from hunching over like that all day?"
Jin Niang replied matter-of-factly, "That’s why I need to establish my reputation and save money while I’m young—so I won’t have to work this hard later."
Already, running her own shop meant half the labor for twice the profit.
"Second Sister, have you told the Jiang Family about the loan on your house?" Ying Niang asked, having heard Luo Yu'e boast endlessly about Jin Niang’s land purchases and construction.
Jin Niang smiled. "I’m paying it off myself—no need to mention it."
Ying Niang seethed inwardly. Wasn’t this deceitful? She had been the only sister to own property—until Jin Niang surpassed her. Her husband was the most obedient and handsome—until Jin Niang’s match outshone hers.
Of course, the rivalry between Jin Niang and her sisters was fleeting—a few sharp remarks on the way home, but little interaction otherwise.
Jin Niang paid no mind. At dinner, she cheerfully announced that the Jiang Family had sent an icebox, so they could enjoy chilled mung bean soup and fruit during the hottest days.
The entire household cheered with joy. Wei Yang, who loved drinks the most, was especially delighted. Juxiang also smiled and said, "Now we won’t need to buy vegetables every day."
Regarding the icebox, Feng Sheng mentioned to Rongniang, "Why don’t we also ask someone to buy one?"
Rongniang shook her head. "That’s not cheap. Besides, we’d have to buy ice too. Forget it—our family doesn’t have that kind of money."
To say Rongniang had low material desires would be an understatement. Her clothes, for instance, cost less than two hundred wen. She only wore nicer outfits when going somewhere special, and most of the gifts she gave were originally given to her by others.
Feng Sheng knew his wife’s temperament well and didn’t blame her. It was precisely her contentment with their humble life that allowed her to care for him calmly when he fell ill.
Unlike the Feng family, who hesitated to buy ice, the Zhou family had already started using it. Fourth Miss Zhou found her quarters so cool that she even felt a little cold, asking her maid to fetch an outer garment for her.
Her marriage had already been arranged—she was to wed the son of her father’s colleague, the Prefect of Caizhou. After failing to marry Han Xiao, no one in the family paid her much attention anymore. Her stepmother was even glad she wasn’t marrying well, as it meant less dowry to prepare.
Yu Xing returned carrying a box. "Miss, the old madam sent you a set of head ornaments."
Fourth Miss Zhou opened the box to find three sets of headpieces—gold, silver, and jade—each consisting of twenty-eight pieces with every imaginable design.
Yu Xing added with a smile, "I heard each piece weighs fifty-four taels, just for you to wear as you please."
Fourth Miss Zhou closed the box. "Grandmother is truly kind to me."
It was just a pity that her grandmother, now elderly, could no longer influence her marriage. Still, she had heard that her future husband was handsome, scholarly, and already a provincial graduate—which explained why her father had agreed to the match.
She used to dislike needlework, finding it tedious, but now she had begun embroidering her own pieces. Thinking of embroidery reminded her of Jin Niang. However, unless someone brought news, Fourth Miss Zhou couldn’t inquire about a mere maid.
Meanwhile, Jin Niang had started using a dedicated embroidery frame for work commissioned by the Imperial Embroidery Bureau. Though the patterns seemed intricate, once familiar, she knew how to proceed: first analyzing the design, selecting threads, outlining the motifs on the robe, and then embroidering section by section.
But most of her time was now spent preparing dowry and betrothal gifts. The matchmaker had informed her that the Jiang family’s betrothal gifts were quite lavish, so their return gifts couldn’t be too modest. She also had to prepare gifts for the matchmaker. Her parents couldn’t help much with these expenses—it all fell on Jin Niang.
A small mother-of-pearl bed alone cost sixteen taels. The armchairs, embroidered stools, daybed, and desk, though cheaper, still totaled eight taels. She had already paid a deposit to the carpenter.
For silks, she set aside thirty strings of cash. The betrothal gifts for the Jiang family included a bolt of peony-patterned red luo silk and a bolt of hibiscus-patterned luo silk, costing six strings and four hundred wen. Two bolts of purple gauze cost three strings and six hundred wen, while two bolts of small-patterned ling silk—one with peonies and the other with grapevines—cost three strings. Two bolts of figured silk totaled five strings, and one bolt of brocade another five strings.
The remaining eight strings were used for the matchmaker: two bolts of silk, four of gauze, and two of plain silk, though of slightly lesser quality.
As for jewelry, during her time with the Zhou family, she had saved two gold hairpins, a pair of pearl hairpins, a pair of pearl flowers, three pairs of earrings, and seven rings, along with three silver hairpins. Over the years, she had also bought gilded combs and silver hair ornaments. Now, she prepared a full headpiece set of eight items, costing twenty-nine strings.
She also spent one string and five hundred wen on a fish-bone crown.
Jin Niang’s spending flowed like water, yet she still worried about their limited funds. To help, she embroidered some items for her future in-laws, and the Jiang family reciprocated. Before the Mid-Autumn Festival, Jin Niang completed her Imperial Embroidery Bureau assignment and earned thirty-five strings.
When the Jiang family sent their betrothal gifts, they included a gilded silver crown, the "Three Golds" (gold bracelet, gold bangle, and gold pendant), embroidered yellow luo silk robes, patterned satin skirts, and other fine silks and fabrics, along with tea, fruits, and pastries.
Jin Niang quietly remarked to Luo Yu'e, "See how the Jiang family follows the customs of official households in their gifts."
Luo Yu'e was thoroughly pleased. Who wouldn’t love a son-in-law who was wealthy, charming, and handsome?
The matchmaker in the yellow beizi delivered Jin Niang’s return gifts to the Jiang family, who were equally satisfied. Leading the gifts were a bolt of purple gauze and a bolt of hibiscus-patterned luo silk, followed by a grape-purple rattan box containing five pairs of shoes—two women’s red satin upturned-toe shoes adorned with pearls and three men’s cloud-patterned shoes. Another red rattan box held a set of men’s clothing: a Tang tri-colored robe with white trim and white silk trousers.
Jiang Xian glanced at them, recalling Jin Niang’s words that day, and felt a surge of happiness. The matchmaker pointed out, "Look, there’s also a plain silk robe underneath—the needlework is exquisite."
A plain wooden rattan box held ten pairs of white silk socks, while another contained an assortment of delicate pouches.
There were also boxes of silk and velvet flowers, two sets of hair ribbons, two women’s outfits, and assorted wines and pastries.
With the betrothal settled, Jin Niang finally relaxed. The past month had been frantic. Besides the Imperial Bureau’s robes, she earned twenty strings from her shop, totaling fifty-five strings for the month. After repaying six strings for loans and spending one on wages and two on living expenses, she saved forty-six strings.
But after the Mid-Autumn and Double Ninth Festivals, business slowed drastically, bringing in only sixteen strings a month. Still, it gave Jin Niang more time to embroider quilt covers. The ten-string Western Xia wool Buddhist rug she bought in summer, along with three strings’ worth of woolen clothes, pants, and socks, proved invaluable in winter.
The Buddhist rug served as a cushion or mat, providing comfort. Her summer clothes, washed, perfumed, and pressed by Ying, were stored in trunks—enough to serve as models for future orders.
By October, business picked up slightly, thanks to Jin Niang’s persistence. Unlike the nuns in the embroidery alley who sold trinkets only during temple fairs, she kept her shop open from dawn to dusk unless absolutely necessary.
October 1st marked the Feast of Warm Stoves, a Northern Song custom where families gathered around fires to feast. While commoners simply added a few dishes, wealthy clans held reunions.
Madam Jiang, whose husband had been assigned to a provincial post, returned to her maiden home and was shocked to learn that Sixth Madam Jiang had actually betrothed her son to Jin Niang.
"Sixth Sister-in-law has lost all sense, marrying into a merchant family," Madam Jiang scoffed.
Aunt Jiang had no intention of speaking ill of her sister-in-law, but she remarked, "Madam, if Sixteenth Young Master wishes to marry a merchant's daughter, so be it. Even Thirteenth Young Master’s wife comes from a family that owns a spice shop. As long as they’re content, that’s all that matters."
Madam Jiang frowned. "That may be so, but Thirteenth Young Master is idle and unaccomplished, while Sixteenth Young Master is now exceptionally talented and learned."
Xiang Ming, who was nearby, overheard this and felt a surge of joy. She counted herself fortunate and prepared two bolts of satin, a set of silver trinkets, and two silk flowers as congratulatory gifts. There was no helping it—the Zhou Family was no longer as prosperous as before, and Madam Jiang had tightened her purse strings considerably. Even for Fourth Miss Zhou’s marriage, the family could only spare three thousand strings of cash, with five hundred contributed by the old madam and another five hundred borrowed from the second branch.
Jin Niang was deeply moved upon receiving Xiang Ming’s gifts. She was always one to plan ahead, and by the tenth month, she had already begun searching for fur pelts. In the past, she had worn padded cotton jackets stuffed with layers of floss and hemp, making them bulky and cumbersome. Having grown accustomed to down jackets in her modern life, she found winter unbearable, feeling as though she could barely move under the weight of her clothes.
By the tenth month, she had earned twenty-six strings of cash, finished embroidering the quilt cover, and completed half of her wedding dress. Rising early, she went to the Great Xiangguo Temple and spent three strings to buy a sheepskin, crafting a fur-lined jacket and using the leftover material to make a warm lamb’s wool hat.
Ying, who had visited a hat shop, exclaimed, "They sell such hats for ten strings each!"
"Anything slightly refined sells for a premium," Jin Niang replied. She adorned the hat’s exterior with camellia and ruyi motifs, embellished with gold-printed fabric before stitching it together. She intended to gift this hat to Jiang Xian for the Winter Solstice.
Because Jin Niang’s attire was both lightweight and stylish, a fur merchant sought her out for collaboration, offering her several pelts. Of course, few could afford fur garments, and before the Winter Solstice, only two customers commissioned such pieces.
Before the solstice, the Jiang Family sent a matchmaker with a betrothal gift of five hundred strings of cash and set the wedding date for the twenty-eighth day of the third month the following year. For the Winter Solstice, they also sent two sets of brocade clothing—a luxurious fabric beyond the means of most, worn only by officials or wealthy merchants.
In return, Jin Niang sent a warm lamb’s wool hat, a plain silk-lined long jacket, two gold-printed waistbands, and a blue brocade coat embroidered with crane motifs. The crane-patterned brocade alone cost one hundred and eight coins per tael, with one bolt weighing sixteen taels. Jin Niang used only a few feet of it to craft a shorter coat, embroidering lingzhi motifs along the collar.
The garments were first delivered to Sixth Madam Jiang, who was coughing in her chamber. Nanny Fang praised, "Madam Wei’s craftsmanship is truly exceptional. It was worth using the family’s cloud-patterned brocade to make these gifts."
Sixth Madam Jiang sipped her tea and smiled faintly. "Indeed. Eighth Young Master’s wife grumbles behind my back, accusing me of favoring my youngest son. But she forgets—when we sent betrothal gifts to her family, what did they offer in return? Cheap trinkets! They even used our gifts to purchase land and passed it off as their own dowry. But Madam Wei is different. She brings thousands in dowry, and in return for two sets of brocade, she sends gold-printed fabrics and brocade coats. Go, deliver these to Sixteenth Young Master."
Nanny Fang promptly took them to Jiang Xian, who was practicing calligraphy. His strokes were elegant and fluid, like dancing dragons.
Delighted with Jin Niang’s gifts, Jiang Xian immediately tried them on, especially the hat, which suited him far better than his old one.
Liu Dou’er laughed. "Young Master always complained his old hat flattened his hair. This one is much more cleverly made."
"Of course—who do you think crafted it?" Jiang Xian replied cheerfully.
After the betrothal, the couple was forbidden from meeting. Even if Jiang Xian wished to visit Sweetwater Lane, he couldn’t—messages had to pass through matchmakers.
With the sudden influx of five hundred strings, Jin Niang was tempted to repay all her debts at once. But she reconsidered—this money came from the Jiang Family, and if she spent it all, word might spread, and people would question her motives.
Moreover, she had no idea what married life would bring. For now, she decided to save the money, relying instead on her own earnings.
After the solstice, the cold grew severe. Jin Niang sewed a pigskin jacket for her younger brother and asked their father to deliver it to his school for warmth. Her mother had refused to buy materials when they were cheap during warmer months, leaving them unprepared.
Fortunately, her parents could warm themselves by the fire after their busy mornings at the shop. Jin Niang had stocked up on firewood and charcoal in advance.
She hung thick felt curtains to block drafts and retrieved her winter clothing ledger. In such bitter cold, demand for warm garments would surge. She’d rather earn less than see people freeze to death for lack of proper clothing.
Unexpectedly, Rongniang arrived, dragging her two sons inside, shivering. "Jin Niang, I just fetched Yingniang’s child, but the cold was unbearable. May we warm up here?"
Jin Niang quickly had Ying serve hot tea. "Stay the night. Younger Brother Yang isn’t home—your boys can sleep in his room, and you can share mine."
She offered out of kindness, fearing the heavy snow might make travel dangerous.
Rongniang hesitated but agreed, sending the coachman to inform Feng Sheng.
Once settled, Rongniang eyed Jin Niang’s attire. "How are you dressed so lightly? Aren’t you cold?"
Before Jin Niang could answer, Ying chimed in, "Our lady wears a lambswool jacket—she’s warm even past the second watch."
Rongniang recalled layering her own clothes with floss and hemp, while Feng Sheng’s finest garment was a paper-lined robe. Meanwhile, Luo Yu'e still wore an old padded coat.
"Why hasn’t Jin Niang made you a fur coat?" Rongniang asked pointedly.
"Those are expensive," Luo Yu'e replied. "Jin Niang is saving for her dowry. We’ve contributed nothing—how could we ask for more?" Their harmonious relationship stemmed from clear financial boundaries. Even the rent from Foulwater Lane went toward Younger Brother Yang’s education, and Jin Niang hired servants for chores. The couple had given twenty strings toward her dowry—the rest came from her own earnings.
Annoyed, Rongniang left with her children.
To Jin Niang’s surprise, customers braved the cold for winter garments. Grateful her prices hadn’t risen, one remarked, "Thank you, Madam Wei."
"Don’t mention it," Jin Niang replied. Foreseeing the cold, she had stocked up on floss—now it was finally of use.
She always believed that in ancient times, staying warm and well-fed would keep one from falling ill—and avoiding sickness was the greatest blessing, for this was an era when even a common cold could claim lives.
Sure enough, Rongniang disagreed with her. After returning home in heavy snow that day, both she and her two children caught a chill, especially the younger son, whose weaker constitution left him severely afflicted by the cold.
Though Feng Sheng was a physician and tended to them for seven or eight days after their return, the cough persisted. Feng Sheng dismissed it as a minor ailment, insisting the boy could still attend school. But Rongniang blamed the illness on sending the child to study so far away and adamantly refused.
The two quarreled fiercely over the children once again.
Meanwhile, Jiang Xian arrived at Fan Tower in a sedan chair on a winter’s day. By the time he entered, the gathering was already lively. As he removed his dark blue cloak with its subtle patterned design, he revealed a blue robe embroidered with cranes, paired with a pleated skirt of the same hue, cinched at the waist with a gold-stamped sash. His wind-warming cap, also gilded, completed the ensemble.
The room was filled with scions of noble families, who, though seemingly indifferent, were keenly observant. One murmured inwardly, "They say Jiang Xian landed a fine marriage—now it’s plain to see. He carries himself even more elegantly than before, and that cap looks far lighter and warmer than our felt ones."
Even when Jiang Xian removed it, not a single strand of his hair was out of place.
Someone couldn’t resist asking, "That cap is exceptional—unlike mine, which always flattens my hair. Where was it made?"
Jiang Xian thought to himself, "My wife made it."
