Seeing sweat suddenly bead on Jiang Xian’s forehead, Jin Niang quickly took out a handkerchief to wipe it away. "What’s wrong? Are you frightened?"
Though her husband was young, he was mature and reliable. He accomplished nearly everything Jin Niang asked of him, so she never treated him like a younger brother—only as her husband.
But now, why was he sweating just from hearing she was pregnant?
"No, it’s just… it feels a little sudden. Wife, let’s go see a doctor," Jiang Xian stammered, visibly flustered.
Jin Niang laughed. "You ordered such a lavish spread. Wouldn’t it be wasteful to leave without eating? Even with a child on the way, I’m not suddenly made of porcelain."
Jiang Xian had no appetite left. His mind was fixed on getting Jin Niang to a doctor. After their return and the physician’s confirmation—she was indeed two and a half months along—servants like Nanny Luo, Xi Qiu, and Minzhi came in to offer congratulations. Jin Niang instructed Ying to distribute rewards.
Nanny Fang, sent by Sixth Madam Jiang, arrived bearing a Guanyin statue and a pair of jade bracelets.
"These bracelets were part of Madam’s dowry," Nanny Fang explained. "She says they may not be the most precious, but they carry her heartfelt wishes."
"Nanny Fang, I should personally thank Mother," Jin Niang said. Without Sixth Madam Jiang, her marriage to Jiang Xian wouldn’t have happened—nor would the early division of assets.
Nanny Fang waved her hands. "Rest well, Mistress. Madam worries about passing on any illness and insists you needn’t trouble yourself. If you visit, she’ll feel obliged to rise, which wouldn’t be good for her."
Jin Niang nodded. "Then I’ll pay my respects another day."
Shortly after Nanny Fang left, Madam Xu came by, listing a slew of pregnancy taboos—no jostling, no more trips to the shop, no handling scissors. Jin Niang listened with a polite smile.
Once Madam Xu was gone, Ying grumbled, "All that chatter, and not a single gift!"
"Hush, someone might hear," Jin Niang chided softly.
As Ying helped put away her jewelry, she added, "Mistress, your jasmine-patterned skirt today was lovely. Even with your veil, so many people noticed you."
"Such a pity I can’t wear it now," Jin Niang sighed. "Too many ribbons—what if I trip?"
Their conversation was interrupted by Madame Peng, wife of Jiang Yan from the main branch, who arrived bearing bird’s nest soup. Madame Peng had no children of her own but was always thoughtful. Gifts poured in from other relatives too, though some sent nothing. Jin Niang noted each one.
That evening, Jiang Xian entered their room and eyed Jin Niang’s belly with such reverence that he inched farther away on the bed.
Truthfully, he still felt they hadn’t had enough time alone as a couple. Now a child was coming, and his mother had even suggested he sleep in the study to avoid sharing a bed. He’d protested—the study was cramped, the couch uncomfortable—and won the right to stay.
Noticing Jin Niang’s distant expression, he asked, "Wife, what troubles you? Tell me, and I’ll help."
Jin Niang glanced at him, pouting. "This skirt was so pretty, but I can’t wear it anymore—too risky. And everyone assumes I’ll stay home now, but I still need to visit the shop tomorrow."
Her biggest worry was work. Though her morning sickness was mild, she couldn’t abandon the embroidery shop—Madame Zhu and Ying weren’t ready to manage alone.
Pregnancy had come as a shock. With her history of hair loss from dieting, poor circulation, and long hours sitting, she’d never expected to conceive so soon.
Jiang Xian studied her, puzzled. In his experience, women prized children above all else. Some spent fortunes on fertility treatments. His own mother’s high status in the family stemmed from bearing three sons and a daughter.
"Wife, you still want to go to the shop? But the doctor said the first three months require rest," he ventured.
Jin Niang smiled. "It’s fine. My symptoms aren’t severe. If it ever comes to bed rest, I’ll stay home. At the shop, I mostly sit or recline—no heavy labor."
"But the journey is bumpy," he fretted.
She compromised. "What if I go every two or three days?"
Jiang Xian hesitated.
Jin Niang clasped his hands—a first. "Sixteenth Brother, the shop is still new. Madame Zhu is skilled, but her work doesn’t match mine, and pricing is my domain. Please, help me with this?"
Stunned by her plea, he rushed to reassure her. "Of course! Whatever you need, just ask. You’ve always considered my feelings—I’ll do the same. Your worries are mine. I’ll handle it."
Touched, Jin Niang knew she’d chosen well. Even at twelve, Jiang Xian had discreetly resolved conflicts. Now, he vowed to solve her problems outright—exactly the husband she wanted.
"Don’t neglect your studies on my account," she said, caressing his cheek. "The provincial exams are next month."
He grinned. "Then rest well. I’ll go read."
She feigned sleep until his footsteps retreated to the desk. At dawn, Ying burst in: "Liu Dou’er came earlier—the young master arranged Steward Luo to drive you in the family carriage! He even had Nanny Luo pad it for comfort."
Jin Niang brightened. "So I can go today?"
"Exactly! Sixth Madam Jiang objected, but the young master said you’re sewing for an important client. She summoned me to confirm, and I repeated his words. Then she just told me to serve you carefully," Ying giggled.
Relieved to have avoided the confrontation, Jin Niang relaxed.
Steward Luo drove smoothly—far steadier than Chen the younger. The cushioned carriage delivered her to the shop earlier than usual.
With Xi Qiu also in tow, the two women hovered over Jin Niang as if guarding priceless porcelain.
When Zhu Xiuniang and Juxiang learned that Jin Niang was with child, they congratulated her warmly. The morning passed uneventfully, and by midday, Jin Niang’s parents returned, showering her with affectionate concern.
Luo Yu'e couldn’t help but suggest, "Jin Niang, why don’t your father and I buy you some longan and other nourishing foods?"
"No need, no need," Jin Niang replied with a smile. "The physician warned that too much longan can cause internal heat, and if a pregnant woman suffers from excessive fetal heat, it may lead to abdominal pain or even miscarriage. Please don’t worry about my meals—I’ll let Juxiang know if I crave anything."
Luo Yu'e gazed at her daughter’s belly, though it hadn’t yet begun to show, she couldn’t contain her joy. A woman’s worth, no matter how capable, was often measured by her ability to bear children. Without an heir, all the wealth she amassed would eventually fall into others’ hands, and without a son, she might even face bullying. Her daughter, with her ample bosom and hips, was surely destined to bear sons—though she dared not voice such thoughts aloud, knowing Jin Niang would scold her.
Even during meals, if Luo Yu'e shifted meat dishes closer to her son, Jin Niang would frown in displeasure.
After lunch, Jin Niang rested upstairs for an hour. By afternoon, a customer arrived—Madame Gao, who had long admired the jasmine gauze gown in the shop but hesitated due to its steep price of fifty strings of cash, far beyond most households’ means.
"Today, I’ve come specifically to purchase it," Madame Gao declared.
Jin Niang sighed apologetically. "I’m afraid the gown was already bought by a merchant from Wuxing. To make another would require considerable time and expense. However, I do have one I wore myself just once—yesterday, in fact. Now that I’m with child, I can no longer wear it. If you’d like, I can sell it to you for forty-eight strings."
Madame Gao eagerly agreed, fearing another missed opportunity, and promptly paid a deposit, arranging for the gown to be delivered to her home the next day.
Though Jin Niang felt a pang of sadness parting with her beloved dress, there was no helping it.
The summer days were long, and when Jin Niang returned in the late afternoon, the sun was still high. On her way, she encountered Aunt Xu the Third, a recent widow with two sons, who was fond of lavish adornments—her fingers glittered with rings, a testament to her wealth.
Xi Qiu, a household servant well-acquainted with the Xu family, had visited the embroidery shop before. Though the shop wasn’t bustling, it seemed profitable enough. Just yesterday, after learning of Jin Niang’s pregnancy, Xi Qiu had received an eighty-cash reward, cementing her loyalty.
"Madame, that Aunt Xu the Third is no good," Xi Qiu confided. "She’s extravagant, lazy, and a terrible mother-in-law—she’s driven away two daughters-in-law already."
Jin Niang gasped. "Really? But the Xu family is a scholarly household, isn’t it?"
Xi Qiu chuckled. "The only decent one among them is the Fifth Master. The Eighth Young Master treats him like a younger brother, teaching him diligently. Every year from autumn to winter, he stays with our family for months."
"Oh," Jin Niang murmured, seldom concerning herself with household affairs. To her, earning her own keep mattered more.
Upon entering her chambers, Nanny Luo, Jiang Xian’s wet nurse and thus fiercely devoted, overheard the conversation about the Xu family. "The Xu family boasts two imperial scholars," she remarked. "Our late madame valued their connections, and since Madam Xu has many siblings, it was assumed she’d bear many sons. But after Xuan'er, there’s been no news. Lately, she’s grown even more unkind—just look at the scraps she feeds the servants!"
Jin Niang reassured her, "Nanny Luo, you’re Jiang Xian’s wet nurse—he’ll surely provide for you in your old age. But for now, your meals are on me. Though my embroidery shop is modest, I won’t let you go hungry. Jiang Xian is a scholar, and his studies demand his attention. If you ever need anything, come to me."
With that, she instructed Ying to give Nanny Luo two mace of silver. After polite refusal, Nanny Luo accepted, her admiration for Jin Niang deepening.
This was Jin Niang’s way—she believed in uniting those around her, forging a bond strong enough to weather any storm.
When Jiang Xian returned, Jin Niang explained, "I gave Nanny Luo and Steward Luo some money for meals, considering she’s your wet nurse and he often escorts me."
"My dear, I hadn’t even realized," Jiang Xian admitted, rubbing his temples.
Jin Niang smiled. "You’re a scholar—such trivial matters shouldn’t occupy your thoughts. Besides, Sister-in-law is frugal by nature. If even we masters eat simply, how can we expect more for the servants?"
"Thank you, my love, for always thinking ahead," Jiang Xian said, grateful for the comforts of marriage.
Jin Niang shook her head. "A husband and wife should care for each other. Where you overlook, I’ll step in, and where I falter, you’ll support me."
She then brought up the study renovation: "I’ve divided the space into three sections. The entrance will be a tearoom, with white-papered walls and calligraphy scrolls—perfect for receiving guests or hosting meals. The middle section, as I mentioned before, will have russet-papered walls accented with mung-green mica sheets, bookshelves as partitions, and a desk with writing supplies. The innermost area will have a side window, a low table for your painting and calligraphy, and behind it, a daybed, a carved desk, and a vase. You can rest there when tired, enjoying the breeze."
"But if we’ve already papered the walls, adding a window will cost extra," Jiang Xian pointed out, reviewing her detailed estimates.
Jin Niang laughed. "Let’s do it properly now. Once everything’s settled, making changes later would be a hassle."
Jiang Xian knew how hard she worked—every coin from her embroidery shop was earned stitch by stitch. Yet she never complained, her resilience and generosity leaving him in awe.
"Very well," he conceded. "I leave it to you."
After settling the matter, Jin Niang chatted with him a while longer before retiring. If she stayed up, Jiang Xian would keep her company, neglecting his studies.
Marriage had brought her one unexpected blessing—she’d finally broken her habit of late nights.
Meanwhile, Madam Xu sat by the oil lamp, sewing. Her husband was still in his study and wouldn’t return soon. Earlier, she’d consulted the physician treating her mother-in-law, who’d confirmed the old woman’s condition was beyond repair—she had, at most, a year or two left.
Madam Xu didn’t wish for her mother-in-law’s swift demise. Her husband was preparing for the provincial exams in August, and this time, his success seemed assured—a reason for her enduring patience.
Nor did she want Jin Niang to miscarry or face any mishap now. If the shock of joy or grief hastened her mother-in-law’s end, it might disrupt her husband’s focus.
Yet Lady Wei refused to listen, traveling despite her delicate condition.
"That woman is utterly consumed by greed," Madam Xu remarked to Nanny Ge.
Mother Ge was also stitching shoe soles: "Who says otherwise? The sixteenth young master often hosts banquets, drinks, and socializes with friends, changing into one set of fine robes after another—none of that comes cheap. Lady Wei has no choice but to open her coffers for him. As a merchant’s daughter, she has no choice but to curry favor with him."
Madam Xu curled her lips: "You’re not wrong. Honestly, with Jiang Xian’s qualities, he could easily marry into a noble family. I recall that the Transport Commissioner of Huaixi—a third-rank official—wanted to wed his illegitimate daughter to him. But our mother-in-law was afraid her precious youngest son would suffer and outright refused."
Jiang Xian was handsome, well-spoken, and reasonably learned. Marrying an illegitimate daughter would’ve been a stroke of luck, yet his mother wouldn’t hear of it.
She said that family’s sons were all hopeless scholars, and a noble daughter would surely dominate Jiang Xian. She even claimed illegitimate daughters were overly ambitious—if he married one, he’d be little better than a live-in son-in-law. And if Jiang Xian ever rose to prominence, he’d be burdened with his wife’s family, dragging him down like deadweight.
Nanny Ge, however, remarked, "She’s just exhausting herself for her children’s sake. Lady Wei has no pedigree, only a younger brother, but she’s skilled at making money. She’s no burden—in fact, since she married above her station, she has to fawn over Jiang Xian. That’s why she’s still managing business even while heavily pregnant."
"True. And if he ever casts her aside, what could the Wei family even do? Once Jiang Xian earns his jinshi degree, even with children in tow, noble daughters would still line up to marry him." At this thought, Madam Xu set down her needlework, silently admiring her mother-in-law’s foresight.
Still, she had her own plans to execute: "Nanny Ge, tomorrow take some gifts to Seventh Aunt and gently persuade her family to move back in. Decent houses outside cost at least ten strings of cash—no small sum. Besides, we’re all family—why hold grudges?"
Having her sister-in-law’s family occupy the west wing of the third courtyard would fill it entirely.
In the Jiang family’s sixth branch, the main house’s second courtyard housed Master Jiang the Sixth and his wife. The west wing was occupied by a concubine and her maid, while the east wing, originally Jiang Xian’s quarters, had been converted into a study. The third courtyard was where Madam Xu and her husband lived, with Xuan’er in the east wing and the west wing still vacant.
Since the second courtyard’s side rooms were limited, Sixth Madam Jiang had repurposed a former flower storage room in the garden, refurbishing it as Jiang Xian’s bridal chamber.
Madam Xu’s plan was to lease out the entire garden once her husband passed the provincial exams, whether her mother-in-law was alive or not. Her aunt had told her that renting out the garden and its seven or eight rooms could fetch at least forty strings of cash monthly—a hefty sum.
If Jiang Xian and his wife stayed in the second courtyard, they’d soon find it too cramped and have to move out—no one could blame her for that. And once they left, her mother-in-law wouldn’t dare evict her daughter’s family to make room for her son.
These were her private thoughts, not even shared with Nanny Ge.
Her scheme was flawless—no one could fault her. If anyone deserved blame, it was her mother-in-law for being too ruthless.
Within three days, the workers dug an additional window as Jin Niang instructed. She also hired a gardener to plant a small bamboo grove near the main house.
"Madam, Shopkeeper Qian from the silk shop is here," Ying announced.
Jin Niang hurried out. The silk shop didn’t employ embroiderers but sourced finished pieces to sell as add-ons or standalone items.
Of course, they only bought leftover stock at low prices.
Jin Niang bundled up unsold sachets, pouches, and two vests, earning a little over a string of cash.
Over the next ten days, two rains kept customers away. Worried about slipping, Jin Niang had Ying mind the shop while she designed Mid-Autumn Festival collars, shoe covers, socks, and dresses.
Osmanthus and jade rabbits were must-haves. The underbust corset would feature osmanthus blossoms, the collar osmanthus-and-rabbit patterns, while the shoes—soft yellow satin flats—would be adorned with a snow-white rabbit.
Naturally, a velvet rabbit hairpin and pale yellow ribbons would complete the youthful look.
"Madam, the osmanthus cakes are here," Nanny Luo said, brought by Steward Luo.
Delighted, Jin Niang said, "I’ll take some to the study for Jiang Xian."
Xi Qiu and Minzhi chimed in, "It’s so nice having you home. You’re always sending treats to the young master—he must be waiting eagerly!"
Jin Niang smiled faintly, then recalled yesterday’s visit to their newly acquired shopfront. Five prime rooms near Jinliang Bridge cost only fifteen strings—a steal. If only they could find a major tenant.
But that was Jiang Xian’s task—he had more connections.
At the study, Jiang Xian stood immediately. "You’re here."
His heart melted at his wife’s adorable outfit, but he quickly added, "Zhou Cunzhi, my second cousin, came to thank our family for the roadside memorial rites and visit Mother. He might stop by the study soon—perhaps you should head back."
So Zhou Cunzhi had returned after Old Madame Zhou’s burial.
"Fine, but you must try these osmanthus cakes. I queued for an hour at Deyun Tower," Jin Niang chided.
Jiang Xian couldn’t resist touching her rabbit hairpin. "Alright, my little moon rabbit."
"Moon rabbit? I’m the Moon Goddess at least!" She poked his chest.
Jiang Xian’s breath hitched. Jin Niang had only meant to tease, but seeing his reaction, she turned to leave. Their gazes lingered until Zhou Cunzhi entered. Jiang Xian composed himself, greeting him gracefully.
Zhou Cunzhi hadn’t expected to see Jin Niang. Jiang Xian introduced, "Cousin, this is my wife."
After exchanging bows, Jin Niang hurried out.
So she’d married Jiang Xian. Their affection was unmistakable—their laughter as he entered had been genuine.
Zhou Cunzhi knew Jiang Xian could’ve married higher, but unlike the Jiang matriarch, he wasn’t fixated on status.
They exchanged pleasantries, discussed Jiang Xian’s essays, and sipped tea. Jiang Xian, mindful of Zhou Cunzhi’s mourning, offered only refreshments. "My wife had these osmanthus cakes specially bought. Please try some."
Zhou Cunzhi usually had little fondness for overly sweet pastries, yet for some reason, thinking of Jin Niang, he took a bite of one and found it surprisingly pleasant. Without the overpowering fragrance of osmanthus, the mild warmth tempered the sweetness, leaving a subtle, fermented rice cake flavor.
"This cake tastes delightful, and its symbolism is even better."
Osmanthus cake was also known as "Guanghan cake," carrying the auspicious connotation of "ascending to great heights."
Jiang Xian, who typically kept his emotions guarded, unexpectedly smiled at Zhou Cunzhi's remark. "I doubt my wife considered such meanings—she likely just bought it for me because it tasted good."
A shadow flickered in Zhou Cunzhi's eyes. Now in mourning at home, he had returned exhausted after escorting his parent’s coffin back to their ancestral land. Yet Lady Zhang only concerned herself with how his mandatory leave of absence might affect his future reinstatement. There wasn’t a single considerate soul by his side—yesterday, he had dozed off on the couch, and no one even bothered to cover him with a blanket.
But such grievances were better left unspoken. Besides, he had always maintained an elder-brother demeanor before Jiang Xian, so he simply steered the conversation elsewhere. "You’re still young. With so many talented candidates in this year’s exams, if you pass the provincial level, you might study the exemplary works of Jiang Guyan, the top scholar at the Imperial Academy."
Jiang Xian chuckled. "I hear the Song family has already set their sights on him, planning a marriage right after the palace exams."
"A scholar from humble origins—a peasant at dawn, a court official by dusk. ‘In books lie golden houses; in books, fair ladies await.’ Such is the path of every scholar." Zhou Cunzhi offered these words to encourage Jiang Xian.
Yet Jiang Xian mused that Chancellor Song had several sons, only one of whom had caused constant trouble, forcing him into a sinecure. Now, by choosing a commoner as a son-in-law, the chancellor likely intended to groom him as a future pillar for the Song family—so that when he retired or stepped down, his sons could rely on Jiang Guyan’s support.
Such marriages were often transactional, devoid of genuine affection—much like the relationship between Zhou Cunzhi and Lady Zhang before him.
A mismatch in status might bring temporary advantages, but the debt would eventually come due. At this moment, Jiang Xian felt profoundly grateful that he and his wife shared a harmonious and loving bond.
