He added some lard to the wok, then tossed in sliced mushrooms, shredded carrots, and mung bean sprouts, giving them a quick stir-fry before finishing the last dish. This was a meal Jiang Xian had specially prepared for Jin Niang. He had noticed that his wife, who spent long hours sitting and doing needlework, suffered from poor blood circulation. She had recently started eating longan daily, yet her monthly cycles remained heavy.
So, whenever he had time, Jiang Xian would cook small dishes or simmer nourishing broths to help replenish her health. Knowing she feared gaining weight, he even skimmed the fat from the chicken broth multiple times—his culinary skills, he dared say, had improved significantly.
When he carried the dishes to the table, Jin Niang was already seated obediently, her eyes crinkling into crescents the moment she saw him. This was the moment he found most rewarding.
"My dear, let me serve you some chicken soup," Jiang Xian offered eagerly.
Jin Niang nodded. "Alright."
As they ate together, Jin Niang yawned and asked, "Next year’s provincial exams—did the top scholar share any advice with you?"
Jiang Xian shook his head. "We only exchanged a few words during my visit. I paid my respects as a student would."
Sensitive to his mood, Jin Niang pressed, "Did he slight you?"
"No, it wasn’t outright disrespect. After all, he is the top scholar, and I went to seek guidance. It’s only natural to show deference. But... I couldn’t shake the feeling that Scholar Jiang seemed somewhat displeased with me." Jiang Xian was puzzled.
Jin Niang chuckled. "That can’t be. You’re always so diligent—why would he dislike you?"
Jiang Xian shrugged.
"Don’t worry. If one door closes, another opens. Once you pass the imperial exams, your talent will surely shine through. Our family’s situation is improving bit by bit—don’t let this weigh on you. If you’re upset, I’ll be upset too." Jin Niang clasped his hand reassuringly.
Jiang Xian laughed. "It’s not that serious."
Jin Niang knew better than to overreact—if she made a fuss over every little thing, Jiang Xian might stop confiding in her altogether. Now that her own work was stable and Jiang Xian was on the rise, she didn’t want him to become anxious or insecure.
Her concern warmed his heart. No matter how composed he appeared to others, it was only with Jin Niang that he felt truly cared for.
After dinner, the servants cleared the table, leaving the couple to their private time.
Often, Jin Niang would discuss official bulletins with him, share books she’d recently read, or simply chat before returning to her embroidery workshop to sketch patterns or stitch until dinner reunited them.
This balance gave them both independence and shared moments—neither too clingy nor too distant, just the right rhythm for a married couple.
In the afternoons, her mother, Luo Yu'e, often dropped by the workshop for gossip.
"Jin Niang, have you heard? Lady Hao from the east side was beaten," Luo Yu'e said in a hushed tone.
Jin Niang gasped. "Why?"
"Apparently, she caught her husband cheating, and he flew into a rage."
Lady Hao had married a man who moved into her household, yet he still strayed. Jin Niang sighed. "Despite managing the household flawlessly and being a devoted wife, her husband has the audacity to act like this?"
The other embroiderers in the shop echoed their outrage.
"I heard Lady Hao chose him precisely because he seemed honest. She even bought land for his family—how could a mere clerk repay her like this?" Luo Yu'e fumed at such ingratitude.
Jin Niang shook her head. "Calling someone ‘honest’ is hardly a compliment. To me, it just means they lack any real virtues."
Even Madame Zhu agreed. "The mistress speaks wisely. When my husband and I were younger and well-off, though he never strayed, women still threw themselves at him. It was exhausting."
Jin Niang added wryly, "It’s not just women fighting over men. I heard a widowed woman nearby had several suitors vying for her attention."
And let’s not mention the daughters of high officials selecting husbands—even the most aloof scholars would strut like peacocks.
The group shared a knowing laugh.
Just then, a guild representative arrived. "Chief Wei, the head prefect from the Imperial Academy is here. They’d like book satchels embroidered with auspicious motifs—perhaps ‘rising steadily’—for the top three students this year."
Jin Niang agreed readily. "Our Wei Embroidery Workshop specializes in pictorial needlework. We’d be honored to take this on. If our work pleases them, perhaps the prefect could inform us of future exam dates so we can deliver directly to the academy gates."
Since becoming guild chief, Jin Niang had avoided profiting from contracts like the Imperial Embroidery Bureau or military uniforms. This time, she saw an opportunity—giving away a few satchels for publicity could lead to selling poetry pouches, brush cases, and other scholar’s accessories.
When one door closes, another opens. With business slow, this was a fresh path forward.
At dinner, Jin Niang excitedly told Jiang Xian about the book satchel idea. "At worst, we lose three satchels. But if the prefect is impressed, this could be lucrative. I’m realizing how much money there is to be made from scholars like you."
"Absolutely. Even submitting our exam applications costs three to five strings of cash per sheet at the stationery shops. Your idea is clever." Jiang Xian nearly offered to promote her work but held back.
True to form, Jin Niang preferred handling her own affairs, especially within her expertise. Only for unfamiliar tasks—like their recent land dealings—would she ask for help.
She already had a new vision: scholars hiking with poetry satchels, only for rain to ruin their work. Not everyone could afford glossy brocade, so why not create waterproof satchels with modern touches?
The next day, she bought oilcloth and designed a satchel with compartments for inkstones, books, and comfortable straps—all while ensuring it stayed dry.
The first-place satchel featured tangerine-hued brocade with coiled floral patterns, a crane embroidered on the flap, and the Wei Workshop’s seal discreetly stamped in the corner. It was elegant, practical, and waterproof.
When Jiang Xian curiously touched it, Jin Niang caught him. "I was just testing if it’s really waterproof!" he defended.
"Of course it is. Here, let me show you." She stuffed his discarded drafts inside, fastened the satchel, and poured several cups of water over it before handing it back. "Open it."
This time, Jiang Xian was genuinely surprised, for the poetry manuscripts inside were completely unharmed.
What should he do? He wanted them even more now.
But he still said, "My dear, this book bag you made is truly wonderful—ten times better than the ones I usually buy."
Since Jin Niang usually only sewed clothes for him and rarely had time to make book bags, he hadn’t expected her to put in such effort. Delighted by his reaction, Jin Niang smiled and said, "If you like it, then take it."
"Are you serious, my dear?" Jiang Xian hesitated, not wanting to accept it, as he couldn’t bear to see her work so hard.
But Jin Niang waved it off. "What’s the big deal? You’ll always be my number one."
Jiang Xian was overwhelmed—this was the first time she had ever said such a thing. He was overjoyed. Yet, he firmly refused, "I’ll wait for you to make me an even better one when you have time."
"No, I insist on giving this one to you. I’ve already decided—all three book bags will have bamboo-patterned fabric as the base. This one is specially for my husband." As she spoke, Jin Niang draped her slender arm around his neck.
All their affection was conveyed without words.
Each book bag featured bamboo motifs, but with distinct designs. The first was embroidered with a white deer on bamboo brocade—the deer symbolizing prosperity and steady advancement. She had outlined the deer in gold thread, making it appear lively. The second had a bamboo-loving panda in black and white, representing harmony and unity, edged with silver thread. The third was adorned with a long-tailed bird, stitched with ordinary silk thread.
After completing the three book bags, she sent them out with a note: these were the most water-resistant available, and custom orders could be placed at the Wei Embroidery Shop.
Initially, Jin Niang saw this as an opportunity to expand beyond wedding and children’s clothing, never expecting the scholars to actually buy from her.
But the academy head proved surprisingly helpful. After receiving a poetry pouch as a private gift, he promoted it so effectively that nearly the entire Imperial College soon knew about it.
Jin Niang set three price tiers: the simplest cloth bags at three hundred coins, affordable for those with modest means; mid-range at three strings of cash; and premium at ten strings.
She had Young Chen set up a stall outside, and by winter solstice, they had earned fifty strings—even Zhang the Ninth sent someone to buy one.
Beyond scholars, mothers visiting for clothing were persuaded by Ying to purchase them, as they cared more about their sons’ futures than the sons themselves.
Meanwhile, Jiang Xian proudly showed off his new poetry pouch while hiking and composing verses with the top scholar and others. Though his wife wasn’t a wealthy merchant, every coin she earned was honest and hard-won.
When someone remarked to the top scholar about marrying a merchant’s daughter, Jiang Xian showed no shame. Instead, he said, "My wife is exceptionally capable. Truthfully, she couldn’t care less whether I pass the exams—her attitude toward me never changes based on my success."
"If anything, I’m the one who married up."
Unbeknownst to him, these words shifted the top scholar’s opinion. He had assumed Jiang Xian was merely shrewd and lacking in loyalty, but now saw his devotion to his wife. Unlike others who coveted their in-laws’ wealth yet scorned them, hoping to rise in rank and remarry.
Worried Jiang Xian might face disrespect, Jin Niang specially crafted a matching set of poetry pouches and book bags for the top scholar—one in green tortoiseshell pattern, the other in red lantern motif—and had Jiang Xian deliver them.
"Such fine work, all given away?" Jiang Xian was reluctant.
Jin Niang laughed. "You know our situation—we can’t afford lavish antiques as gifts. These are heartfelt without seeming like bribes."
Only then did Jiang Xian nod, clasping her hand. "I wouldn’t know what to do without you."
"Don’t say that. Who cooks my favorite meals? Who washes my hair and brings me tea at night? I’m just doing what I can." Jin Niang disliked burdening love with pressure, especially since Jiang Xian handed over all income from his shops and estates without a second thought.
But Jiang Xian knew—his wife was just being modest.
If someone was willing to sing your praises, such gifts were more than worth it.
Since they were still in their room, the conversation soon turned to kisses, only stopping when footsteps approached. "Go on," Jin Niang urged.
Jiang Xian grinned, burying his face in her shoulder.
Later, when Jiang Xian visited the top scholar’s residence to deliver the gifts, they exchanged a few words before he left.
The top scholar showed no reaction, but after Jiang Xian departed, he placed the items in his study. Madam Song teased, "He never comes empty-handed."
"His wife made these herself." While expensive gifts could be refused, handmade ones were harder to reject.
Besides, the top scholar lived by a rule: better to offend a gentleman than a petty man.
Madam Song mused, "His wife has only visited once, and rarely socializes. Perhaps I should invite her for tea."
Visits were a mark of respect for his scholarly rank, but next year’s exams would bring a new top scholar, making the title less valuable.
Despite her earlier enthusiasm, Madam Song wasn’t keen on making enemies.
Two days later, Jin Niang received the invitation. Showing it to Jiang Xian, she said, "Madam Song wants me for tea."
"Just go and come back early," he said, aware his wife wasn’t fond of socializing. The imbalance in status worried him—he didn’t want her slighted.
Jin Niang touched his cheek. "Why the fuss? I’ve been there before. It’s probably a polite return gesture for the gifts. Official families value etiquette."
The more he loved her, the less he wanted her to endure discomfort.
Coming from an official family himself, Jiang Xian knew how aloof such circles could be beneath their gracious façades.
But Jin Niang wasn’t seeking friendship. Amused by his anxiety, she reassured him, "Look at you. Consider it practice for when you become a scholar and I must mingle with them. It’s inevitable."
"You’re right." Jiang Xian brightened at the thought. If he passed the exams, everything would be better.
Jin Niang gladly accepted the invitation and had Ying style her hair into twin coiled buns. At the center of her hair ornaments was a lifelike faux flower adorned with pearls and jade in the shape of plum blossoms, while the back of her coiffure was pinned with a pair of golden hairpins. Strands of beaded tassels draped on either side. As for her attire, she naturally wore a white undergarment beneath a single-layered robe embroidered with plum blossoms and tassel patterns, over which she draped a green-plum-colored beizi. The collar of the beizi was embroidered with peonies and long-tailed birds, while the neckline was embellished with gold-stamped peony branches.
As she stepped out the door, she carried an air of radiant elegance.
Today, she brought along an infant’s swaddling cloth, as it was said that Madam Song’s due date was approaching. Pink was naturally out of the question—what if she gave birth to a daughter? It would all be blamed on her. Thus, she chose bright red, suitable for either gender.
Jin Niang had made a similar mistake before. Once, a pregnant woman had come to her shop to pick fabric for a swaddling cloth, and Jin Niang happened to have a particularly soft pink material. The moment she presented it, the woman pointed at her nose and accused her of cursing her family to be left without heirs.
This time, when she met Madam Song, Jin Niang noticed that the furnishings in her home had changed again. As winter approached, the hall had been set up with a "paper pavilion"—four paper screens, three forming walls and one serving as a roof, with bamboo curtains acting as partitions.
Inside, "Snowy Spring Fragrance" was burning, its scent reminiscent of plum blossoms. In every way, Madam Song was a woman of refined taste who knew how to live well.
After exchanging greetings, Jin Niang was invited inside.
Madam Song smiled and said, "I’ve just acquired some new tea and wanted someone to taste it. You were the first person I thought of."
"Thank you for thinking of me. My husband often speaks of how much he’s troubled your household," Jin Niang replied politely.
Madam Song was about to say something when several more guests arrived. Among them was the Fourth Miss, along with two unfamiliar women whom Jin Niang presumed were recent disciples of the top scholar, Jiang.
Spring Day
They were much closer to Madam Song, their conversation flowing effortlessly—not out of deliberate exclusion, but simply because they were already familiar. Only the Fourth Miss helped Jin Niang interject a few words, but no more than that.
To become part of their circle, one would have to visit frequently, exchanging words whenever they met, until familiarity grew over time.
But Jin Niang wasn’t particularly inclined. To her, such socializing seemed rather pointless. If Scholar Jiang hadn’t achieved his rank, no matter how high Madam Song’s status was, no one would be fawning over her.
Thus, upon returning home, Jin Niang said to Jiang Xian, "I can’t neglect my business. Besides, Scholar Jiang may be renowned among scholars, but he hasn’t reached the status of a literary leader. My dear, submitting your writings for review is necessary, as is building a reputation—but these must be grounded in genuine talent."
Truthfully, she found it all a waste of time, putting the cart before the horse. To put it bluntly, what if Jiang Xian didn’t pass the exams? The shop would be neglected, and no money would be made.
She worried Jiang Xian might think she wasn’t sincerely supporting him, but she believed honesty was best between husband and wife. Otherwise, the pretense would eventually wear thin, leading to an explosion.
To her surprise, Jiang Xian sighed in relief. "My dear, I’m so glad you think this way. You’re always afraid I’ll suffer, but I fear you suffering even more. One day, I’ll make sure everyone fawns over you."
"I’ll dream about that," Jin Niang said, pleased, but then she grew serious. "I don’t need others fawning over me. I just want you to fulfill your ambitions so we never have to live under someone else’s scrutiny."
Jiang Xian nodded. "Very well. I’ll listen to you and focus on my studies at home."
Jin Niang smiled. "In the future, my dear, you’ll be the mighty tree others lean on—why should we rely on others?"
Now that the mourning period had passed, Jin Niang had shed her mourning attire, and the couple enjoyed the bliss of marital intimacy.
Soon after, the estate delivered firewood, charcoal, and grain for the year. Following Luo Yu'e’s advice, Jin Niang allocated funds for the estate to purchase piglets, chicks, and ducklings, ensuring a steady supply of meat and vegetables without further purchases.
As the year drew to a close, business flourished—especially for wedding quilts and bed canopies. The dozen or so she had made earlier sold out instantly, bringing in over a hundred strings of cash.
She repaid five years' worth of loans, even paying off an extra year in advance. With only two years left, she decided to settle the remaining debt. Having the means, she had Chen the Younger drive her to the wealthy households to clear the final payments.
When she held the receipts from both the pawnshop and the lenders, she felt oddly empty.
The weight of debt had forced her to work relentlessly, a constant noose around her neck. Now, at last, she could finally rest.
Meanwhile, Madam Song gave birth at year’s end. Since Sun Shichen was now studying under Scholar Jiang, Jin Niang naturally went to help—even entering the birthing chamber to assist personally. Their bond grew stronger than ever.
The newborn was wrapped in the swaddling cloth Jin Niang had made, the fabric pre-washed and dried to remove any lingering scent.
The Fourth Miss found it amusing that Jin Niang hadn’t returned since that day. Seeking favors always came with some humiliation—everyone endured it. Who would’ve thought she’d simply stop coming?
Little did she know, Jin Niang was busy preparing medicinal herbs on Lou Siniang’s advice. Rumors of an epidemic were spreading, though the capital had suppressed the news. Those in the medical field, however, knew the truth.
"Thank you," Jin Niang said. Last month, her mother had visited Brother Lin and Brother Guan. Though the brothers were indifferent to her maternal relatives, favoring the Lou family instead, their lives seemed to be improving.
Lou Siniang smiled. "It’s nothing—just a passing remark."
In truth, she felt some guilt. Before Feng Sheng’s wife passed away, she had harbored feelings for him, lamenting that they hadn’t met sooner. Now that his wife was gone, her chance had come—yet she couldn’t shake her unease.
The Wei family also maintained their boundaries, visiting rarely but never failing to send the two stepsons stationery sets and two sets of clothes each year without fail.
After Lou Siniang left, Jin Niang first purchased pre-made medicinal prescriptions and stored them in her room. She then informed her parents, though her mother dismissed such news, insisting the plague wouldn’t reach the capital. Fortunately, Jin Niang was in charge of the household. She instructed Juxiang to pickle more vegetables, bought several baskets of eggs, and stocked a new water vat with fish.
It wasn’t until Minor New Year, when her parents went to buy groceries and found people frantically hoarding vegetables—many already sold out—that they grew alarmed.
Countless others like them had assumed the plague would never touch their lives. But Jin Niang remained vigilant—common folk like them couldn’t afford to fall ill.
"No wonder Ying Niang wiped everything down last time she came for dinner. She knew all along and didn’t tell us!" Luo Yu'e fumed.
Jin Niang reached out to stop him. "We've already received notice from the authorities—the market will be closed tomorrow, and officials will patrol the streets. We have enough grain and provisions at home, so don’t worry."
Yet the most disheartened was Jiang Xian. He pressed a hand to his forehead and sighed, "When the provincial exams were held last time, my mother passed away. Now, just as next year’s exams are approaching, an epidemic strikes again."
Jin Niang swatted his hand away and gazed at him tenderly. "Then I must congratulate you."
"Huh?" Jiang Xian was both puzzled and a little irritated.
Jin Niang smiled. "As the saying goes, 'When Heaven is about to confer a great responsibility on a man, it first tempers his heart and mind, exhausts his body with toil, exposes him to hunger and hardship, and frustrates his efforts. By doing so, it stirs his spirit, strengthens his resolve, and equips him for what he cannot yet accomplish.' This means you’re no ordinary man—you’re destined for greatness! That’s why all this is happening. Truly!" She emphasized the last word.
Jiang Xian was still afraid something else might go wrong, but Jin Niang held his hand firmly and reassured him, "I’ve prepared enough herbs and food to last us three months. So, you don’t need to worry about a thing, all right?"
"My love," Jiang Xian murmured, clasping her hand in return, suddenly feeling an overwhelming sense of security.
Jin Niang continued, "I’ve heard some scholars deliberately retreat to temples to study, seeking solitude far from worldly distractions. Now, you don’t even have to go that far—just focus on your studies at home. By the time the plague passes, my husband may emerge fully refined, needing no one’s help. You’ll grow into a towering tree, standing tall, while we humble grasses take shelter under your shade."
"No, my love, you are the towering tree," Jiang Xian replied, blushing at her praise.
"There now, you’re smiling again. That’s better—no more gloomy thoughts, understand?" Jin Niang chuckled softly.
To him, his wife was the most dependable, the kindest, and the most beloved person in the world.
One day, he too would grow into a mighty tree, so she could rest safely in his branches.
