A generous dowry brings honor to those who present it.
Rongniang had also brought two maidservants to help. Juxiang straightened the tables and chairs, while Ying opened a chest and took out a red silk canopy embroidered with mandarin ducks playing in water—the needlework was exquisite, with stitches flowing like dancing dragons.
"Is this embroidered by Jin Niang herself?" Rongniang asked.
Ying smiled. "Of course! And paired with these white jade hooks, it looks absolutely stunning."
The women worked together to hang the canopy, then began making the bed. Ying, following prior instructions, brought out a soft satin quilt embroidered with peonies and mandarin ducks.
Next, they draped the chair covers, tablecloths, and door curtains in place. Juxiang carried over a tall, orange-gauze lantern with a copper base, shaped like melon segments, and placed it beside the bed. As she wiped it down, Ying cautioned, "Be careful! This lantern cost three strings of cash!"
Just a few days ago, their mistress had finally saved enough for the dowry and purchased this lantern—though it pained her to spend so much.
But there was no denying it—the lantern transformed the room entirely. Their mistress truly had an eye for beauty.
Rongniang sighed in admiration. "I never imagined Jin Niang could save up so much on her own."
"It’s the result of years of careful saving," Ying replied with a smile.
She then arranged the clothing for the coming days in the wardrobe. Most of these pieces had been worn to attract suitors, but they were nearly new—a quick press made them look fresh again. As she unpacked, she noticed the envious glances from Rongniang’s maids.
Rongniang surveyed the surroundings, satisfied with their work. The residence had three main rooms and two side chambers, opening into the Jiang family’s garden—a vibrant expanse of flowers spanning nearly an acre. Ahead lay a small pond and a waterside pavilion, a testament to the family’s wealth.
She had once thought her own three-courtyard home was spacious, but now she understood that not all three-courtyard estates were equal.
No wonder Jin Niang had worked so hard to prepare such a dowry.
She, too, would need to strive harder.
One of Rongniang’s maids whispered, "Madam, this courtyard seems like a side residence. The main house is to the east, but this place is lovelier."
Rongniang nodded. "Indeed. I’ve heard the groom is the youngest son of the Jiang family, so naturally, they’ve given the newlyweds the finest quarters."
They rested briefly under the eaves before returning inside, where Ying had already set out a tea set on the crane-knee table before the daybed. Rongniang couldn’t help but praise her. "Ying, you’re truly capable!"
For one so young, she was remarkably efficient.
Ying smiled modestly. "Thank you for your kindness. Our mistress also asked me to bring some pastries—let’s all have a taste."
Just as she brought out the treats, a round-faced maidservant arrived, her hair tied in twin buns. She curtsied to Rongniang. "Auntie, I am Meng Dong, a maid serving Sixth Madam Jiang. She sent these refreshments for you."
Rongniang smiled. "How thoughtful of Sixth Madam Jiang."
Meng Dong signaled two younger maids to lay out the dishes—four modest courses, a soup, and an extra serving of pastries. Seeing Rongniang hesitate, Ying quickly pulled a purse from her sleeve and handed it to Meng Dong. "Thank you, elder sister."
Meng Dong tried to refuse, but Ying pressed it into her hand. "This is from our mistress. When she arrives tomorrow, she’ll surely reward you more generously."
Hearing it was from Jin Niang, Meng Dong accepted it. Later, she peeked inside—eighty copper coins strung on a red thread. She mused, "Madam Wei truly is well-off."
Rongniang sighed. "The bride hasn’t even arrived, and already the rewards are flowing. Such extravagance."
"I’m only following our mistress’s orders," Ying explained. "That maid serves Sixth Madam Jiang directly. As the saying goes, 'The king is easy to approach, but his minions are troublesome.'"
Over the past year, Ying had dealt with all sorts of visitors. Every evening, her mistress would review the day’s interactions, teaching her how to handle each type of person. Now, she was far more adept.
By midnight, Ying had to return—she needed to prepare Jin Niang for the bridal sedan at dawn. She reminded Juxiang, "Guard this room well. Everything here is valuable—don’t let anyone sneak in."
Though the two often clashed back home, outside, Juxiang obeyed without question. "I won’t leave this room, I swear."
Ying then turned to Rongniang. "Eldest Miss, I leave the rest to you."
Rongniang waved her off. "Go on, hurry back."
At the gate, Young Master Chen was waiting. He grinned. "Busy bee, off you go. Our mistress even bought your favorite butter pastry as a reward."
Ying beamed. "She never forgets me."
Back home, Ying eagerly described the Jiang estate—its three courtyards, the lavish garden, the grandeur. Yet Jin Niang remained unmoved.
The only promising scholar in the Jiang sixth branch had already been adopted out. The sixth master fancied himself a learned man but was hopeless with practical matters, indulging only in pretentious elegance. From her inquiries, Jin Niang knew the sixth branch was hollow—Sixth Madam Jiang was frail, and whispers of dividing the family assets had already begun. Staying with the Jiangs might not be permanent.
But she couldn’t explain this to Ying yet. Instead, she asked, "Did the imitation jewelry fool them?"
"Absolutely! You were so clever. The locked trunks of clothing couldn’t be moved, but those jewelry boxes—some porters and onlookers kept eyeing them, hoping to pocket a piece or two."
Jin Niang kept her real gold and silver close. The convincing fakes were just for show—once she wore them, no one would question their authenticity.
Brides were often targeted by thieves, usually insiders. Catching them caused awkwardness; ignoring it meant swallowing the loss.
Jin Niang smiled. "You’ve worked hard today, Ying. With you, I need no army. Rest early—the hairdresser arrives at dawn."
Before Ying returned, Jin Niang had already prepared bundles of lucky coins for distribution to the groom’s household tomorrow. Her parents had exchanged three thousand copper coins for this purpose—they insisted on covering the expense.
She pushed the thoughts aside. Sleep was essential. Yet as she closed her eyes, memories of the "fire-avoidance illustrations" her mother had given her resurfaced. Marriage wasn’t just shared living—it meant intimacy, passion...
The idea of loving someone she’d met only a handful of times filled her with resistance.
However, Jiang Xian was in a completely opposite mood from Jin Niang. He had come to the bridal chamber the previous evening to take a look, specifically to deliver the "lucky money." The place was already beautifully decorated—a brand-new door curtain hung at the entrance, its drapes in pine-green hues embroidered with plum blossoms, while the curtain itself featured two panels of "joy ascending the eyebrows" in soft red satin, exuding both elegance and festivity.
The room was not divided by floor-length screens or partitions but instead flanked by delicate antique shelves displaying porcelain vases, books, silk dolls, puppets, and clay whistles. Between the two shelves hung a sheer hibiscus-patterned gauze canopy. Beyond this lay a seating area with chairs, a small couch, and a crane-knee table in front of it. A large floor vase stood beside the couch, filled with pink and white roses.
Pushing aside another curtain of moon-white silk sprinkled with gold, one entered the living quarters, where a mother-of-pearl inlaid bed stood, illuminated by a warm tangerine-petal gauze lantern. A delicate ivory table beside it held an assortment of pastries. To the west were an embroidery frame and sewing supplies, while the east side featured a long desk with the scholar's four treasures—brush, ink, paper, and inkstone—along with a brush holder and scrolls.
By the window stood a petite dressing table adorned with a redwood vanity case inlaid with eight treasures...
The more he looked, the more eagerly Jiang Xian anticipated Jin Niang's arrival. Yet, in front of Rongniang and the others, he had to maintain composure. "I must trouble you all today," he said courteously.
Rongniang smiled. "You're too kind, brother-in-law."
Jiang Xian bowed slightly before stepping out, hands clasped behind his back, quietly awaiting the dawn.
Meanwhile, Rongniang peeked at the lucky money Jiang Xian had given them and couldn’t help but mischievously wonder whether Ying Niang would regret missing out on the two taels of silver for just one night’s vigil.
The next day, before daybreak, Jin Niang was roused from bed by her mother.
Juxiang was absent, so Luo Yu'e personally prepared tea and breakfast, urging her to eat well before the bathing and dressing rituals began. Rubbing her sleepy eyes, Jin Niang complained, "I barely slept last night."
"It’s only natural to feel restless before your wedding," Luo Yu'e said understandingly, having gone through it herself.
Jin Niang chuckled. "It’s not just that. The thought of leaving home for another family’s house feels strange."
"A woman must marry eventually. At least your groom is a fine man—hard to come by even with a lantern in hand. Though my heart aches to keep you home, your father and I can’t be with you forever," Luo Yu'e confessed.
Jin Niang didn’t argue. Even in modern times, parents pressured their children to marry—let alone in ancient times. By comparison, her parents had been remarkably considerate.
After scrubbing with jasmine soap and slathering on thick cream, Jin Niang donned a dark blue floral-patterned silk bodice and undergarments, followed by a crimson lantern-patterned gold-trimmed skirt. Layer by layer, she added a peony-embroidered vermilion robe, then powdered her face before finally slipping into the grand-sleeved bridal gown and ceremonial cape adorned with peonies and magnolias.
For commoners, wearing such a cape was permitted only on their wedding day.
Jin Niang’s bridal ensemble was particularly lavish, with the cape mirroring the gown’s crimson hue and embroidered motifs. The leaves, matching her bodice’s dark blue, were delicately traced in gold powder. Even the famed Miss Zhou’s wedding attire might not have rivaled hers.
A wedding gown was worn just once, yet it marked one of life’s most significant moments. Though she might never earn an official title, she could at least dress like nobility for this day.
"Miss, Granny Pan is here," Ying announced.
"Please invite her in," Jin Niang replied.
Granny Pan, the bridal stylist, immediately curtsied. With two crossed threads, she swiftly rolled them over Jin Niang’s powdered cheeks and neck, eliciting a wince.
"Madam, this is ‘face-threading’—a bride’s ritual for skin smooth as a peeled egg," Granny Pan explained cheerfully.
Jin Niang checked her reflection in the bronze mirror. Whether by illusion or not, her complexion did seem fairer and finer.
Next, Granny Pan shaped her brows and applied makeup, admiring the "fish charm" that Jin Niang had prepared. "This is truly radiant when applied between the brows."
Jin Niang shot Ying a glance, signaling her to learn the tricks. This wedding had revealed countless business opportunities—even the thriftiest splurged on matrimonial pomp.
As Jin Niang’s mind wandered, Granny Pan styled her hair into elegant "cloud-tip" coils, crowned with the Jiang family’s gift: a gilded silver coronet adorned with floral motifs and silk flowers, flanked by Madam Wu’s peony-patterned hairpins and pearl combs at her temples.
The pearl combs were bartered for a Buddhist scripture that Jin Niang embroidered—two sold, one exchanged with a jeweler for the combs, rings, and tropical seeds. Today, she wore them all: the Zhou family’s gilded lychee earrings and the Jiangs’ floral-patterned gold bracelets.
Granny Pan tried hawking her own accessories, but Jin Niang resisted.
Once dressed, she fastened the grand sleeves and hung the golden cape pendant. Ying helped her sit on the bed, the bridal veil set aside for the sedan chair.
By afternoon, Jiang Xian had set out from home. Already handsome, he looked even more dashing in his groom’s robes and floral-adorned headpiece. Eldest Young Master Liu, attending the wedding, sighed ruefully—he’d been a step too late.
Liu had once hesitated due to gossip, planning to match Jiang Xian with Madame Bai, an official’s daughter known for her father’s integrity. But Jiang Xian’s swift betrothal left no room for interference. Now, Liu could only offer blessings for his future success.
Jiang Xian rode forth, flanked by Jiang clansmen and musicians. Even among the Jiangs, some struggled—many had begged Sixth Madam Jiang to join, eager for the bridal party’s red envelopes, lucky money, and feast.
Sweet Water Alley, near the Grand Xiangguo Temple, bustled with commerce. The crowd watched as Jiang Xian reined his horse before a three-bay facade, flanked by potted plants and double-happiness characters—this was the place.
Jiang Xian dismounted and knocked on the door, where Feng Sheng, An Ping, and Younger Brother Yang were guarding the entrance. Younger Brother Yang chuckled and said, "We’ve long heard of Brother-in-law’s literary talent—how about composing a poem to hasten the bride’s appearance?"
Without hesitation, Jiang Xian recited a poem, earning cheers from the crowd. Feng Sheng then called out from inside, "The poem is done, but we’ll see if the groom has sincerity to match."
Jiang Shiwu and the others promptly handed over two bolts of embroidered silk, and the Wei family quickly opened the gate. Jiang Shiwu was astonished and whispered to Jiang Xian, "Last time I went to the Deng family to fetch the bride, it cost me nearly twenty taels just to get through the door. The Wei family is quite decent."
At least they weren’t greedy people.
Jiang Xian’s smile widened.
Meanwhile, the Wei family had set up two banquet tables in the corridor, inviting the Jiang family to dine. Each guest was also given a gift bag, which some discreetly peeked into—inside were wedding candies, pastries, tea leaves, and sachets, all exquisitely packaged. Even the musicians received red envelopes with twenty copper coins each as a reward.
Feng Sheng, the eloquent host, kept the atmosphere lively, while Younger Brother Yang, the scholarly type, was refined and courteous. An Ping, warm-hearted, busied himself pouring wine for everyone, ensuring the event didn’t falter.
Jiang Shiwu muttered to himself, "Weren’t they said to be merchants? How come they’re so meticulous? Far better than the Deng family, who were officials’ kin."
When Jin Niang heard the groom had arrived, she packed her jewelry box and instructed Ying to bring it along later. Ying, flustered, hastily placed the bridal veil over Jin Niang’s head, waiting for the auspicious hour to send her off. Jiang Xian barely touched the food, only taking a few bites, though he noted the dishes were well-prepared and nodded in approval.
Jiang Yan, however, advised, "Sixteenth Brother, if you don’t eat now, you’ll starve all night. I went through the same when I married Madame Peng—I was famished by the end."
But Jiang Xian seemed deaf to the warning, waiting only for the announcement of the auspicious hour. The moment it came, he sprang up like lightning. When Jin Niang was escorted out, his fists clenched slightly.
Jin Niang, beneath her gold-embroidered crimson veil, could see clearly—unlike the blindfolded brides in dramas. She spotted Jiang Xian, dressed in the green robe she’d made, wearing a floral-adorned headpiece, standing motionless as he waited for her. He even turned back to glance at her as they walked, and somehow, her heart eased.
Once outside the Wei residence, Ying helped her into the bridal sedan. As the curtains fell, Jin Niang found herself in a private world. The crackle of firecrackers outside mingled with voices—perhaps the procession leader’s, or Feng Sheng directing An Ping to set off another round.
"Lift the sedan!"
As the bearers raised it, Jin Niang felt the distance grow. Jiang Xian kept glancing back, worrying that his frugal sister-in-law had hired subpar carriers and that the sedan was too cramped for the bride.
Indeed, the sedan wasn’t spacious. Jin Niang, already layered in heavy attire, began sweating. She quickly pulled out a mirror and dabbed her face with powder to avoid smudging her makeup.
Thankfully, they reached Nanxun Lane in half an hour. But the crowd outside barred her from stepping down until Ying distributed lucky coins. Once she descended, the wedding attendant scattered candies and coins, sending children scrambling.
Juxiang emerged from the gate, joining Ying to escort Jin Niang along a green cloth path—brides mustn’t tread bare ground. Through her veil, Jin Niang studied Jiang Xian’s home. They entered through the main gate, traversed winding corridors, passed a moon gate, and followed another covered walkway.
At the end stood the bridal chamber, already adorned with lanterns and a saddle.
The attendant chimed, "The bride must cross the saddle—it ensures a smooth and safe future."
But Jin Niang realized her mistake: her trousers were too tight, the saddle too wide. Heaven help her—she couldn’t lift her leg over!
Jiang Xian noticed her hesitation. Had Madam Wei changed her mind?
"What’s wrong?" he asked, stepping closer.
Startled, Jin Niang whispered, "The saddle’s too big. I can’t cross it."
Understanding, Jiang Xian handed his ceremonial tablet to a maid, scooped her up, and floated her over the saddle. Jin Niang, now on the other side, was stunned. Who knew such a move was allowed?
The attendant led her into the chamber to rest while Jiang Xian proceeded to the main hall for the "high seat" ritual. There, he sat elevated as guests took turns offering wine—first the matchmaker, then aunts, and finally the mother-in-law—before he could descend and return to the bridal room.
Ying giggled, "No wonder Madam came along earlier."
Jin Niang glanced around, impressed by the tidy arrangements. "I’ll reward you all tomorrow," she promised.
Two quarters later, Jiang Xian returned. He sat to the left, Jin Niang to the right, as the attendant hung a new bolt of silk outside the door, its lower end torn into strips for guests to snatch—a tradition called "lucky door red."
"Must we go out again?" Jin Niang whispered to the attendant.
The attendant didn’t hear, but Jiang Xian did. "We must pay respects to the elders and have the ‘all-fortunes’ lady unveil you," he answered.
"Oh." She’d assumed the groom would lift the veil.
Sure enough, the attendant tied red and green silk into a love knot, attaching one end to Jiang Xian’s tablet and the other to Jin Niang’s hand. He led her to the ancestral hall for worship.
The all-fortunes matron removed Jin Niang’s veil. Was her makeup smudged? Why was everyone staring?
Jiang Xian, the most familiar face in the room, gazed at her intently. Jin Niang lowered her eyes as he silently recited Li Bai’s verse: "Willows gleam gold-tender, pear blossoms snow-fragrant"—perfect for his bride today.
After ancestral rites, Jin Niang now guided Jiang Xian back to their chamber. The attendant showered them with coins and fruits, chanting blessings. A walnut bonked Jin Niang’s head, but she bore the pain for the next ritual: hair-tying.
Each snipped a lock of hair, binding them with silk, a hairpin, and a comb into a love knot, stored in a wooden box. Then came the shared nuptial cup.
As the attendant passed them two interlinked cups, Jiang Xian leaned close. Jin Niang noticed a mark on his forehead too—small comfort.
After the couple finished drinking the ceremonial wine, the bridesmaid took their cups, turned one upside down and placed it over the other, then tossed them beneath the bed. Next, she instructed Jiang Xian to remove the flowers from Jin Niang’s bridal crown. He fumbled with them for a while, even getting a strand of her hair tangled, which startled him. Once he finally managed to take the flowers off, Jin Niang then had to unfasten the buttons from Jiang Xian’s green ceremonial robe.
The buttons were made of jade she had brought back from the South Seas. With practiced ease, she snipped them off with scissors and placed them, along with the floral crown, beneath the bed.
Like spinning tops, the newlyweds then went to pay respects to their parents, elders, and relatives. Present were Master Jiang the Sixth and his wife, Wei Xiong and his wife, as well as Madam Jiang and Third Miss, among others.
The Jiang family couldn’t stop praising them: "Truly a perfect match—like the golden boy and jade girl of legend."
Madam Jiang the Seventh remarked to Sixth Madam Jiang, "We always said Sixteenth Young Master was exceptionally handsome, but we wondered who could ever be worthy of him. Now he’s found someone straight out of a painting. With her beauty and grace, she’s sure to outshine all the other young wives in our family."
Luo Yu'e and Wei Xiong couldn’t help but feel pleased hearing such words.
One of the elders teased, "Look at the groom—he can’t take his eyes off the bride! Such affection!"
"Don’t be in such a hurry, Sixteenth Young Master. The wedding chamber awaits!"
Amid the laughter and cheers, Sixth Madam Jiang quietly sighed in relief—now the rumors about her son would surely fade away. Luo Yu'e, too, felt a weight lift from her shoulders. Her daughter was finally married, and to such a fine young man. She could only hope Jin Niang would cherish her good fortune.
