After breakfast, Jin Niang informed Madam Chen and headed straight to Third Miss's quarters. To her surprise, she found a graceful, bejeweled woman seated inside. Hesitating for a moment, she only realized it was Third Miss's birth mother, Madam Lü, after a maid's prompt reminder, and quickly curtsied in greeting.
Madam Lü, however, was amiable. Upon seeing the clothing designs Jin Niang had brought, she smiled and remarked, "I’ve never seen anyone sketch patterns like this beforehand."
Third Miss also seemed pleased. "Let’s proceed with this design."
"Ah, since you approve, I’ll start cutting the fabric right away," Jin Niang replied cheerfully. A client with no fuss was exactly her kind of customer.
Madam Lü added, "Thank you for making the trip. Qing Xue, give her a few coins to buy some sweets."
Though she said "a few coins," it was actually twenty copper coins. Third Miss even gifted her an extra plate of bean cakes. After expressing her gratitude, Jin Niang left, carefully tucking the coins into her purse. A single copper coin could buy a piece of malt candy—money still held good value in the Song Dynasty.
Back in the sewing room, she kept two coins for herself in case of hunger and shared the rest with the others.
Madam Chen took the opportunity to advise them, "They say Madam Lü once assisted the First Lady in managing the household. She was the First Lady’s senior maid before, so she’s quite well-off. Don’t be snobbish and only chase after those in higher positions."
Her words were a warning against favoring the legitimate heirs over the lesser-born, assuming the former had brighter prospects. In truth, generosity mattered more than status.
Jin Niang chuckled and shook her head, then focused on marking measurements with charcoal before immersing herself in her work.
The sewing room was equipped with embroidery frames, long worktables, irons, threads, fabric scraps, and carved templates. Locked away in cabinets were gold leaf, gold thread, and beads.
While working, the seamstresses often consulted Madam Chen on stitching techniques or requested decorative materials. Jin Niang had just asked for a strand of gold thread when Lv Ying arrived with two young girls, no older than seven or eight. They had been sold into service during a famine in exchange for a few bushels of rice—one named Si'er, the other Little He.
"How pitiful," Madam Chen sighed.
Lv Ying smiled. "Madam Chen, these two are here to assist you."
At noon, the girls fetched lunch, and after the meal, they promptly cleared the dishes to wash. Once done, everyone gathered to chat.
"I heard ten girls came in with you?"
Si'er nodded. "Yes, we were assigned to the sewing room. Sister Lv Ying said we should learn skills from you all so we can help in different quarters later."
Though the seamstresses were well-treated, they would leave the household after three years. By then, the indentured girls could handle the needlework—with or without wages—cutting costs significantly.
Jin Niang understood. Qin Shuang'er then asked, "Where were the others assigned?"
"One to each young lady’s quarters, one to the kitchen, one to the privy, and two to the laundry," Little He answered, covering her mouth to giggle. "The one sent to the privy got the worst deal."
The privy attendants had to scrub chamber pots and dispose of night soil, reeking all day.
After the idle chatter, Jin Niang and the others resumed sewing with intense focus, while Si'er and Little He dozed by the door.
With the two girls handling errands, Jin Niang happily stayed indoors, dedicating herself to the garments. She worked faster than most but took great care with embroidery, especially the peony branch pattern on the collars.
They toiled late into the night, oil lamps burning. Only Madam Chen retired to her quarters; the rest pressed on. Jin Niang was content—charcoal warmed them by day, and each had her own bed at night. She’d heard the young maids like Si'er and Little He slept crammed together in a single room with over a dozen others.
Three or four days later, as Jin Niang neared completion of a turn-collared jacket, Fang Qiaolian whispered, "Have you noticed how often Qin Shuang'er visits Eldest Miss’s quarters?"
"Perhaps she’s proving her patience," Jin Niang replied. She disapproved of constant revisions—losing one’s unique touch risked ruining the work.
Professionals should handle professional tasks. Those selected had their own flair. In her past life as a screenwriter, she’d learned that if actors and directors kept altering the script, the project was doomed.
Still, she knew Qin Shuang'er was networking.
But to Jin Niang, skill was the foundation of one’s worth; connections were merely embellishments. Without shared status, even knowing influential people meant little—they’d still look down on you.
Friendship across classes was rare. Even among friends, sudden wealth could strain bonds.
After finishing the jacket, she moved on to a porcelain-green gown embroidered with magnolias. Fang Qiaolian’s version of the same color featured pink butterflies and white-edged lapels, crafted with evident dedication.
When Qin Shuang'er returned, she remained unruffled seeing the others on their second piece. As long as everything was done by New Year’s, it didn’t matter—they’d all deliver together.
"Madam Chen, may I have another strand of gold thread?" Jin Niang requested, using it to add shimmering veins to the magnolia leaves.
Madam Chen had her own workload, but as a seasoned hand, she could embroider a hundred-flower skirt in a single evening with ease. "Go ahead," she permitted.
Days flew by as they worked. By the time Jin Niang started her final piece—a light gown adorned with pearl-centered haitang birds—she’d retrieved seed pearls from Madam Chen for the floral stamens.
Qin Shuang'er, meanwhile, labored over a scene of ladies picking plum blossoms. Human figures were tricky, and the dense floral backdrop demanded painstaking effort. Jin Niang glanced at her—ten days for one piece was glacial. When Madam Chen questioned her, Qin Shuang'er blamed Eldest Miss’s demands, leaving no room for argument.
Then, that afternoon, Yan Hong arrived in a hurry. "Our Aunt will return in two or three days. The First Lady asks if the young ladies’ clothes are ready. If not, hurry—they’ll need them for the visit. Prioritize their garments."
Hearing this, Jin Niang quickened her pace, resigning herself to a late night. After sewing, the pieces still needed pressing—another time-consuming step.
Amid the flurry, Qin Shuang'er, despite the winter chill and falling snow, broke into a sweat. Beads of perspiration dripped onto the silk, startling her nearly to fainting.
