Outside, night had fallen, and the red candles in the bridal chamber crackled as they burned. Wax dripped from the lanterns onto the table, and Juxiang quickly wiped it away with a cloth. Just then, she heard muffled giggles and glanced over to see two maidservants who attended to the young master.
She knew they were laughing at her foolishness, but Juxiang didn’t care—she was determined to guard the room properly for her mistress.
At that moment, a commotion arose outside, and the two maids who had been mocking Juxiang immediately darted to the doorway like arrows loosed from a bow.
Jin Niang was the first to return, while Jiang Xian lingered outside to share a few more cups of wine with the guests. Though exhausted, Jin Niang was filled with joy. From being a servant to trudging through the foul-smelling alleys, then moving to Sweetwater Lane, and finally arriving at this grand estate—every step had been steady, and she had progressed well.
Back in the room, Ying helped Jin Niang remove her hairpins and the wide-sleeved wedding robes. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Jin Niang studied the two unfamiliar maidservants, who promptly knelt and introduced themselves.
“This servant, Xi Qiu / Minzhi, greets the Sixteenth Madam.”
Jin Niang smiled. “Rise. There aren’t so many rules here.” She then gestured to Ying and Juxiang. “These are my usual attendants. Let’s all get acquainted and ensure we get along well in the future.”
Ying, ever quick-witted, stepped forward. “I’m Ying. I’ll have much to learn from you both in the days to come.”
Xi Qiu and Minzhi hastily replied with humble deference.
Jin Niang asked whether they were born into the household or bought from outside, and they confirmed they were family servants who had served Jiang Xian for three years. She rewarded each with thirty-six copper coins, which they gratefully accepted.
“This seems like a new courtyard, doesn’t it?” Jin Niang remarked.
Xi Qiu nodded. “Yes, it was prepared for the Sixteenth Young Master’s wedding. The Eighth Madam had it renovated just for this occasion.”
“I see. And where is the bathing chamber?”
“In the side room next to the main entrance.”
“Then have hot water prepared. I’d like to freshen up. When the young master returns, he’ll want to do the same,” Jin Niang instructed.
Xi Qiu and Minzhi hurried out to carry out the orders, and Jin Niang then rewarded Ying and Juxiang with a hundred coins each. “You’ll also each receive two feet of satin and a length of red hemp cloth. Ying, open the chest and distribute everything.”
As personal attendants, they naturally received more—after all, closeness dictated privilege.
Their quarters were in the western side room, arranged well in advance by the Jiang family, who had known about the accompanying maids from the dowry.
When Xi Qiu and Minzhi returned with the water, Jin Niang went to bathe. The bathing chamber was cleverly designed, with two doors—one leading from the outside and another connecting directly to the main chamber.
Sinking into the wooden tub, she mused how exhausting weddings were. Though the Jiang family had declined in status, their rituals were still numerous. Ying Niang had mentioned that when An Ping married, she simply entered the bridal chamber without all these formalities.
After bathing, Jin Niang washed her hair thoroughly. Her locks had been drenched in osmanthus oil and dusted with firecracker debris. In her days as a servant, washing had been inconvenient, and the cheap hair cleansers she bought had caused scalp sores that still hadn’t fully healed—hence her diligence now.
Jiang Xian hadn’t expected to return to the sight of his bride fresh from her bath. Her hair was loosely parted, damp strands framing her delicate, luminous face. The sheer sleeping robe clung to her graceful curves, and he quickly averted his gaze.
“Wife, I—I brought some food.”
Jin Niang chuckled. “I suppose I am a little hungry.”
Perhaps because Jiang Xian was a few years younger, she felt entirely at ease around him. She had Ying bring the tangerine-scented gauze lantern closer to the table. Xi Qiu and Minzhi swiftly laid out the meal before withdrawing with Ying—after all, it was their wedding night, and the couple shouldn’t be disturbed.
As the saying goes, a beauty under lamplight grows lovelier the longer one looks.
“Aren’t you eating?” Jin Niang urged when she noticed he wasn’t touching the food.
Jiang Xian smiled. “I’ll start now. How do you find the dishes, Wife?”
The table held four dishes and a soup: crystal braised delicacies, stir-fried bamboo shoots, silver-thread tripe, crispy yellow croaker, and a bowl of red-braised lamb. Jin Niang, never a picky eater, simply said, “Everything is delicious.”
Jiang Xian’s brow arched briefly before he nodded. “Indeed, as you say.”
Jin Niang turned the question back to him. “What do you enjoy eating? I’m not fussy—just bitter melon and insects.”
It was such an ordinary conversation, yet Jiang Xian rarely spoke so casually with anyone. He replied softly, “I’m not particular either, though I do favor a dish called spiced lark. First, the larks are cleaned and rinsed with wine, then dried and mixed with malt, red yeast, salt, pepper, and shredded scallions. They’re layered in a jar with the spices, covered with bamboo leaves, and secured with bamboo strips. Once the brine is poured out, more wine is added before sealing. When ready, a few are taken out—utterly delectable.”
Such refined tastes—fine clothes, gourmet food—he’d be a challenge for anyone less well-off to sustain.
Jin Niang had sampled much of the capital’s cuisine, especially during her time at the embroidery workshop, where she often dined out. “I’ve never tried spiced lark, but at a teahouse near State Bridge, I once had superb fried quail. Tucked deep in an alley, it’s a haunt for connoisseurs, serving no more than ten tables a day. The quail and eggs are fried first, then simmered in a secret braised sauce. The aroma alone could carry for miles.”
“Now you’ve piqued my curiosity,” Jiang Xian admitted.
Jin Niang grinned. “We’ll go together someday.” Then she asked, “Have you visited Xiangguo Temple’s roast pork shop?”
“Of course,” he replied.
“There’s another place near Huixian Tower that rivals it. At first, I doubted its tiny storefront could draw such crowds, but one visit convinced me—it’s even better than the temple’s. Crispy outside, tender inside, bursting with juices, and their special dried seasoning, blended with crushed broad beans… Just thinking about it makes me happy.” She tilted her head, watching him.
Jiang Xian found her smile unbearably sweet.
Once they finished, Jiang Xian called for the servants. Xi Qiu brought tea, which Jin Niang used to rinse her mouth. Ying noted inwardly that tea for rinsing was a luxury—back in the Wei household, they’d never done such a thing.
The table was cleared, and Minzhi fetched Jiang Xian’s sleeping robes. With that, the maids withdrew, leaving the newlyweds in privacy.
After Jiang Xian went to the bathhouse, Jin Niang immediately took a clove from her vanity box and held it in her mouth. She slowly combed her hair with fine linen cloth. The clove freshened her breath, ensuring a pleasant fragrance when they grew intimate, sparing him from any unpleasant odors.
She knew all too well the woes of bad breath—sometimes, a seemingly elegant customer would walk into her shop, only to ruin the impression the moment they spoke, their breath overpowering...
Little did she know Jiang Xian did the same. After his bath, he placed a few mint leaves in his mouth before stepping out.
Now alone in the room, both felt slightly uneasy. Jin Niang’s usual composure had faded by half, replaced by nervousness. As Jiang Xian drew closer, she suddenly stood up, as if to retreat.
Sensing her tension, Jiang Xian spoke first: "Has your hair dried, my lady?"
"Not the ends yet," Jin Niang replied, smoothing her hair self-consciously.
Jiang Xian smiled. "Let me help dry it. If left damp, it could easily lead to a chill."
Jin Niang handed him the towel. He sat beside her, lifting her voluminous dark tresses, which carried a dewy floral scent. Through the soft, flowing silk of her robe, her figure was faintly visible. His hands, initially tending to her hair, began to wander forward...
"My lady."
"My lord, what is it?"
"I... may I?"
"...Mm."
At the most crucial moment, Jin Niang was touched that he still sought her consent. She closed her eyes, feeling first a slight sting, then a wave of pleasure coursing through her limbs. She had always assumed such acts were solely for a man’s enjoyment—never had she imagined a woman could revel in it just as much.
The next morning, Ying first ironed Jin Niang’s clothes before helping her dress: a pale lotus-colored silk bodice paired with an ivory gauze pleated skirt, over which she wore a long crimson surcoat embroidered with auspicious motifs. At her waist hung a crane-shaped pouch, and on her feet were high-heeled red satin shoes. The shoes’ highlight was the toe—embroidered with silver clouds and adorned with a white crane appliqué, as if the bird were soaring from her feet. A closer look revealed her entire ensemble harmonized in red and white.
"Ying, style my hair in a single coiled bun," Jin Niang said with a smile.
Ying deftly arranged the updo, securing it with a carved silver comb and adorning her ears with gold crane-and-child earrings.
Just then, Jiang Xian lifted the curtain and entered. Seeing Jin Niang ready, he said, "Mother has already sent someone to hurry us. Let’s go."
"Mm," Jin Niang replied cheerfully.
As they walked through the garden side by side, Jiang Xian’s heart warmed, his thoughts still unsettled from the night before. She had been soft as water, her curves more than a handful, yet now in daylight, she carried herself with such propriety, not even glancing his way.
"My lady," he murmured absently.
Jin Niang turned. "Yes, my lord?"
Only then did Jiang Xian realize he’d spoken aloud. He took in her striking yet refined attire—red often risked gaudiness, but her ensemble was exquisite, especially the shoes, where the cranes seemed ready to take flight.
"I meant to say how lovely you look today," he said.
Jin Niang smiled. "There’s no gold embroidery or embellishment. Truly, I believe ‘the first bloom of a lotus’ surpasses ‘gilded extravagance.’"
Jiang Xian agreed wholeheartedly. Watching her profile, her crescent-moon eyes and sweet smile melted his heart.
Soon, they arrived at the main hall. Jin Niang bowed before a table bearing a mirror stand and mirror, then presented her needlework to the elders.
The so-called elders were Master Jiang the Sixth and Sixth Madam Jiang. Jin Niang had prepared gifts: for her father-in-law, a pair of pouches, a fan case, and three pairs of socks; for her mother-in-law, three pairs of shoes, a pair of pouches, and three pairs of socks; for Jiang Yan, three pairs of pouches; for sister-in-law Madam Xu, a pair of shoes and socks; for Miss Jiang the Seventh, a pair of shoes and socks; and for Brother-in-law Xue, three pairs of pouches.
In return, the elders gifted her two boxes of silk flowers and a bolt of colorful satin, while the others each gave a bolt of satin.
With the formalities complete, the family settled into conversation.
Jin Niang exchanged polite words, though she noticed Sixth Madam Jiang looked even frailer than last year. She guessed her mother-in-law was clinging to life only for her youngest son’s sake.
"After your three-day return visit, your sister-in-law will introduce you to the rest of the clan," Sixth Madam Jiang instructed.
Jin Niang promptly assented, turning to Madam Xu. "I’ll trouble you in the days ahead, sister."
Madam Xu smiled. "We’re family—no need for such formalities."
Miss Jiang the Seventh had heard from her husband that the Liu family had proposed a match between Jiang Xian and a magistrate’s daughter. She couldn’t help feeling her brother had missed a golden opportunity. Even if he hadn’t wed Madam Bai, passing the imperial exams this year would have made him a scholar-official, eligible to marry into a high-ranking family.
Their mother had been too hasty.
Yet she had to admit Jin Niang was stunningly beautiful, her poise so refined that beside Madam Xu, one might mistake her for the noblewoman and Madam Xu for the commoner.
When Madam Xu had married in, her thirty dowry chests had been light, her airs of scholarly pride grating. Still, she was, after all, an imperial scholar’s daughter.
"I’m often ill and weary of visitors—their presence forces me to rise. You needn’t come daily. Just tend to Sixteenth Lang’s needs, and I’ll be at ease," Sixth Madam Jiang said, coughing weakly.
Jin Niang made to rise, but her mother-in-law waved her off. "Your sister-in-law manages the household now. If you need anything, ask her."
"Of course," Jin Niang replied without a hint of displeasure.
Back in their chambers, however, Ying couldn’t hold back. "Miss, what about your business?"
Jin Niang smiled. "We’ll take it step by step. The shop will reopen—it’s just a matter of timing."
"As long as you have a plan. But when?" Ying pressed.
"In half a month. I’ll definitely return to the embroidery shop. If anything comes up, you can handle orders first, and I’ll work from home."
Ying hesitated. "Without you there, I’m not sure I can..."
"You’ll have to learn," Jin Niang reassured her.
She couldn’t yet explain that Sixth Madam Jiang’s health was failing. Once she passed, they’d soon be on their own. For now, there was no need to stir the pot.
Besides, preparing her dowry had exhausted her—late nights and early mornings had even added inches to her waist. She needed rest. Even machines required oiling—how much more so for people?
After exchanging a few words, the conversation halted when Xi Qiu and Minzhi entered, shifting to other matters instead.
Having received rewards from Jin Niang the previous day, Xi Qiu and Minzhi naturally had no intention of displeasing their mistress. Moreover, the questions posed were trivial, so both answered readily.
"Sixteenth Young Master originally resided in the eastern wing of the second courtyard. Yesterday, following Sixth Madam Jiang’s instructions, we moved all his robes and outer garments here," Xi Qiu explained.
Jin Niang sighed sympathetically. "Mother’s health is frail, yet she still worries so much for her son. Truly, a parent’s love knows no bounds."
Her concern that her daughter-in-law and son might have even the slightest discord revealed her genuine hope for their happiness. Of course, in a way, this further confirmed Jin Niang’s own thoughts.
She then inquired in meticulous detail about their monthly allowances, meals, daily laundry routines, bathing arrangements, and more.
By the time Jiang Xian returned, Jin Niang had gained a broad understanding of the Sixth Household’s affairs. The servants received meager wages—those on duty were fed, while those off duty had to fend for themselves. The masters, however, were lenient; last year, two families had been released from service, and this year, several maids were granted their freedom as an act of kindness.
No respectable household sold off servants without reason, especially among the wealthy—unless they could no longer afford to keep them.
Yet Jin Niang refrained from criticism. Instead, she praised admiringly, "This household is truly benevolent."
Noticing Jiang Xian’s arrival, she rose with a smile. "You’re back, my lord."
"Yes. I had some books brought over earlier. We can read them together in our leisure," Jiang Xian replied warmly.
Jin Niang nodded. "I’ve also brought a few new volumes. We can enjoy tea while perusing them."
Just as he’d thought—a lady like her, exuding scholarly grace, would naturally adore books. Delighted, Jiang Xian agreed, "That was precisely my intention."
When a stray lock of his hair fell loose, Jin Niang gently tucked it back with such tenderness that Jiang Xian froze, as if struck. By the time he regained his composure, she had already taken out her painting supplies, preparing to work.
It was her daily ritual—regardless of her schedule, she would paint a floral or avian scene. Initially, she had copied existing works, but now, like a typist transitioning from pecking keys to touch-typing, she could freely create her own compositions.
Lately, she had been studying the techniques of academy painters, drawing inspiration from classical poetry to craft new designs for garments.
That day, she stumbled upon Du Gongzhan’s verse:
"Radiant blooms of the lotus, noble above the water’s face.
A single stem draws emerald hues; twin shadows share the blush of red."
The poem, titled "Ode to the Twin Lotus," spoke of a harmonious union—an auspicious sign.
She pointed it out to Jiang Xian, who smiled in understanding. Jin Niang then declared, "Since today marks our wedding, I shall design a collar motif featuring twin lotuses—not in the usual intertwined style, but with blossoms, a pond, and darting dragonflies."
With that, she began sketching—first drafting, then outlining, and finally coloring. Meanwhile, Jiang Xian, who had intended to focus on reading, found his gaze repeatedly drawn to her. Yet, unwilling to interrupt her concentration, he held his tongue.
Xi Qiu and Minzhi watched in awe. The new mistress, poised and talented, painted with such skill that they were astonished.
Jin Niang, of course, had no intention of making a boisterous impression on her first day. Her goal was clear: to build a marriage with Jiang Xian. Love couldn’t blossom overnight—they had to start as friends, finding common ground and mutual respect.
Just as she finished, Xi Qiu and Minzhi brought in the midday meal. Jin Niang blinked in surprise. "It’s noon already?"
The dishes were mostly leftovers from the previous day’s feast, supplemented only by a fresh stir-fried cabbage. Having endured hardships before, Jin Niang wasn’t fussy about food, but her keen eye noticed the simplicity.
Jiang Xian, however, seemed to have little appetite.
In her own modest household, such thrift was common—her younger brother Yang, for instance, refused to eat reheated dishes, so she often sent Juxiang to buy him something fresh from the market for a dozen coins.
But with Jiang Xian, she simply smiled. "Has reading tired you? You’ve hardly touched your food."
He shook his head. "Not exactly." After a pause, he admitted, "The fare doesn’t suit my taste."
If you’re honest with me, I’ll be honest with you. Jin Niang replied, "As a new bride, I can’t very well demand better meals without seeming finicky. But in a few days, once things settle, we can pay the kitchen to prepare dishes you prefer. How does that sound?"
"Agreed." At the mention of money, Jiang Xian promptly fetched his cashbox and handed it to her.
Once the servants had been dismissed after the meal, Jin Niang opened the box. Inside were scattered gold and silver ingots, silver bars, loose silver, and about ten strings of copper coins. She tucked it away neatly, then presented him with two pouches.
Jiang Xian found them stuffed to the brim—one filled entirely with money, clearly prepared in advance.
"These are for your daily expenses," Jin Niang explained. "The first pouch contains eighth-tael silver pieces, minted into fish shapes by the silversmith—pleasing to the eye and convenient for tipping. The other holds assorted coins and smaller silver bits for your personal use."
Truthfully, it hadn’t cost much—fifty silver fish amounted to four strings of cash, while the second pouch held three one-tael silver fragments and a handful of coins, totaling less than eight strings combined. Far less than what Jiang Xian had given her.
Yet he was deeply moved. Most women schemed to extract money from men for jewelry and finery—rare was a lady like Jin Niang, generous and open-handed.
"My thanks, my lady," he said, eyes shining.
Jin Niang teased, "If you say that, doesn’t it mean we’re still strangers, just as you once claimed?"
Jiang Xian shook his head vehemently.
With no one around, he drew close, his warm breath brushing her neck. The ardor of youth proved hard to restrain. Jin Niang leaped up, pushing him away. "It’s barely past noon—what are you thinking?"
"Then does that mean once night falls, it’s permissible?" Jiang Xian countered playfully.
Hearing the mischief in his tone, Jin Niang lifted her chin. "You seem so proper, yet your words are full of wickedness."
Their banter bridged the distance between them. That afternoon, when Jin Niang complained of an aching back, Jiang Xian even massaged it for her.
...
Sixth Madam Jiang said to Nanny Fang with a laugh, "Look at that boy—he swore up and down that he’d focus on his studies, even worried his new bride might cling to him. And now? He’s the one eagerly doting on her."
Nanny Fang chuckled. "Isn’t this exactly what you hoped to see?"
