By afternoon, Cao Da came to request funds to purchase a horse and donkey cart. The horse he had chosen cost twenty-five strings of cash, while the donkey was eight strings, totaling thirty-three strings. Behind the inner residence, there was a dedicated garden with pavilions, terraces, and jagged rockeries, as well as a stable nearby for convenient access.
However, Jin Niang asked Cao Da, "In Kaifeng, a mid-quality horse usually costs around eighteen strings. Does the twenty-five-string horse you mentioned include the cart and harness?"
Only then did Cao Da return to negotiate with the merchant, eventually settling on a total of thirty taels for both the horse and cart.
Since the donkey cart was mainly used for transporting goods and groceries, it was covered with plain green fabric. The horse-drawn carriage, intended for their personal use, was adorned with high-quality fabric. Jin Niang’s embroidery shop had once handled a wide range of business, so crafting these decorations was a trivial task—completed in less than half a day. Once Chen Xiaolang installed them, the carriage looked splendid.
With the carriage ready, Jin Niang reminded Jiang Xian, "Don’t forget the important matter—we must withdraw our four thousand strings of cash."
Jiang Xian quickly replied, "I remember, but I’ve just taken office. Dragging so many chests of money back from the goldsmith’s shop wouldn’t be appropriate."
"This time, we don’t need to exchange it for copper coins. Go to Jieshen Alley and find a reputable goldsmith to cast it all into twelve-and-a-half-tael waist-bound gold ingots. Make sure it’s pure gold—no deception with nine-tenths purity. That way, just one chest will suffice for the thirty-odd ingots," Jin Niang instructed.
Jiang Xian hesitated, "But if we convert everything into gold ingots, what about our daily expenses?"
"These four thousand strings are our last lifeline—we can’t touch them from now on. Didn’t I tell you before that we have over five thousand strings? With four thousand set aside, we’ll carry five hundred with us, and the remaining five hundred or so, I’ve already had the goldsmiths in Bianjing craft into gold and silver tableware. Even when hosting guests, we’ll have something presentable."
With that, Jin Niang took out a key and opened a chest for him to inspect.
Jiang Xian peered inside and saw silver plates inlaid with gardenia motifs, their centers engraved with medallion patterns of peonies, chrysanthemums, peonies, lotuses, sprays of lotus, camellias, hibiscus, mallows, gardenias, and water caltrops. There were also five gilded silver cups shaped like plum blossoms, hollyhocks, water caltrops, gardenias, and layered lotus petals, with matching designs inside. Additionally, there were two golden cups—one shaped like a hibiscus, the other a sunflower—as well as silver narcissus and chrysanthemum cups.
"How exquisite! We can use these when entertaining guests," Jiang Xian remarked with a smile.
Jiang Xian agreed, but his wife added, "We currently have only two hundred and fifty-six taels on hand. I plan to make this last for over a year, so we must practice frugality from now on—that’s the way to sustain ourselves long-term."
Living too frugally could strip life of its joys, but excessive extravagance would leave no safety net for the future.
Jiang Xian had no objections. His wife had always managed the household finances, and money had never been an issue.
Once the couple settled these practical matters, Jin Niang mentioned that Magistrate’s wife, Madam Qi, would host a garden gathering for her the next day. Jiang Xian then broached a topic cautiously, fearing his wife might take offense: "Someone inquired about your background. I told them that while your family isn’t from a prominent official lineage, it is wealthy and well-mannered, with a scholarly air."
"I was planning to say the same. There’s nothing wrong with that." Just as ordinary people embellish their resumes when job-hunting, so must one present oneself well—especially in feudal times with strict social hierarchies. She took pride in having carved out her own path from humble beginnings. But with strangers, honesty could invite mockery, so a little embellishment was necessary—as long as it wasn’t excessive.
Jiang Xian sighed in relief. His wife truly understood human nature and wasn’t the rigid type.
Meanwhile, Madam Qi had arranged a banquet in the county office’s rear garden. That day, Jin Niang wore a dark green gold-printed silk jacket with a floral pattern over a gauzy outer robe, paired with a pine-colored floral stomacher and ivory-white pleated skirt. A crystal necklace adorned her chest, and her wrists bore jadeite bracelets.
Among the gathered ladies, Madam Qi stood out with her multi-looped chignon, adorned with gold phoenix hairpins, a gold headpiece, and a gold comb—her delicate features accentuated by the lavish ornaments. The registrar’s wife, Madam Tian, was equally meticulous in her attire, her dragon-whisk chignon decorated with hairpins, pearl flowers, and two cat’s-eye rings.
Compared to these two, Madam Bao’s jewelry was simpler, but her styling was more striking. Her hair was piled high in layered clouds, a single gold hairpin dangling at a slant. Her silver-red stomacher peeked through a sheer white gauze robe, lending an air of allure.
After exchanging greetings, the ladies admired Jin Niang’s elegant and refined appearance.
Seating followed rank: Madam Qi presided at the head table, followed by Madam Tian, Jin Niang, and Madam Bao. The second table seated the wives of minor clerks.
During the banquet, Madam Qi had two maids perform "Moon over the West River" and "Partridge Sky," while the clerk’s wife stood by, pouring wine and keeping the mood lively.
"The Mid-Autumn Festival is approaching," she remarked. "County Captain’s wife, having come all the way from Bianjing, may not know that our humble county, though small, is bustling with festivities—noble households hang lanterns, and commoners celebrate all night."
Jin Niang smiled. "Wu County is the foremost under Pingjiang Commandery, long known for its prosperity. Though I’ve only glimpsed its sights since disembarking, I can already sense its vitality."
"Sister Wei, do you have children?" Madam Tian inquired.
"I have a son and a daughter, both still young and not fit for outings. And you, sister?"
Madam Tian replied, "I bore a son last year, but he didn’t survive. Thankfully, I later had another boy, now just three." She added, "My predecessor left behind a daughter, already married and moved to the Western Capital."
Jin Niang was surprised to learn Madam Tian was a second wife—and even more so by her candor. But she steered the conversation toward safer topics like fashionable accessories, silk flowers, rouge, and fabrics.
After the feast, the ladies moved to the veranda for arrow-throwing, backgammon, and grass-weaving games. Though Jin Niang had practiced backgammon on the boat, she still lost two taels to Madam Bao, who laughed triumphantly.
Later, while Madam Bao stepped away, the chief constable’s wife pulled Jin Niang behind a rockery and whispered, "County Captain’s wife, you may not know this, but those twenty rooms in the eastern compound—they were rightfully yours. The Mei family seized them by force. Hearing of this injustice, we’re all indignant on your behalf."
The wife of Constable Qin had long disapproved of Madam Bao, especially given her flirtatious mannerisms. When she later encountered Jin Niang, whose refined speech and gracious demeanor stood in stark contrast, she saw an opportunity to win Jin Niang’s trust.
Jin Niang, of course, welcomed such overtures. As the saying goes, "A hero needs three allies." Without supporters to amplify one’s voice, influence wanes, and news grows scarce.
Yet, in front of Constable Qin’s wife, Jin Niang demurred, "Both our husbands hold the same rank as county captains. If they’ve chosen to let them stay, so be it. I find Madam Bao quite agreeable, so let’s not dredge up the past."
"Such magnanimity!" praised Constable Qin’s wife.
Jin Niang waved her hand modestly. "They say it takes a century of virtue to share a boat ride. I believe in repaying kindness tenfold. Since my arrival at the county office, Madam Bao has treated me with nothing but courtesy."
As she spoke, she pretended not to hear the rustling of branches behind her, instead delivering a stream of diplomatic remarks. Constable Qin’s wife nodded in admiration, and the two soon departed when called ahead.
Unbeknownst to them, Madam Bao emerged from behind the tree only after they had left.
Madam Bao had once been a maidservant in the household of the Zhaoxuan family, where she had been taken as a concubine by the elderly Zhaoxuan himself. County Captain Mei, originally a guard under Zhaoxuan’s command, had secretly entangled himself with her. When the Zhaoxuan matriarch—a notoriously jealous woman—discovered the affair, she arranged for Madam Bao to marry Mei after his first wife’s death, killing two birds with one stone. Mei secured his official post by bribing Zhaoxuan with two hundred taels of silver.
Given her background, Madam Bao refused to resign herself to fate. Upon arriving at the county office, she bonded with Madam Tian, another second wife, over their shared circumstances. But her resentment grew when she realized Madam Tian not only possessed a substantial dowry and a son but also enjoyed greater favor with Madam Qi, the magistrate’s wife.
"Whether one’s rank comes through inheritance or military service, those with imperial degrees still look down on us," she fumed.
Yet Madam Qi clearly preferred Madam Tian. When the military governor’s wife visited recently, Madam Bao hadn’t even been invited to attend.
Initially, she had hoped the newly arrived county captain’s wife—Jin Niang—might prove a useful ally. To her surprise, Jin Niang carried herself with quiet dignity, free of arrogance, and seemed untouched by elitism despite her scholarly background.
Later, Madam Bao visited Jin Niang with needlework in hand. Jin Niang summoned her daughter, Sister Jun, to greet her, apologizing, "My son is only a year old and too unruly to meet you properly."
Madam Bao reciprocated by sending a silver necklace the next day, which Jin Niang promptly had her daughter wear, much to Madam Bao’s satisfaction.
After Madam Qi hosted a gathering, Madam Tian was expected to follow suit, but the Mid-Autumn Festival intervened, postponing the next banquet.
Meanwhile, Jiang Xian exchanged gold ingots for silver, which the couple securely stored away.
"From now on, we’ll act as though those four thousand strings of cash never existed," Jin Niang declared. "We must tighten our belts."
"But my dear, the Mid-Autumn Festival approaches. We’ll need gifts," Jiang Xian fretted.
Jin Niang laughed. "Just mooncakes and fruit. It won’t cost much."
Jiang Xian frowned. "Didn’t you once send crabs to Minister Liu’s household? Those weren’t cheap."
"That was when you were under his patronage," Jin Niang explained. "Now that you hold office, a simple visit suffices. I’ve asked Madam Bao and Madam Tian—they do the same."
She then instructed Juxiang to buy watermelons and pomegranates and consulted Constable Qin’s wife on the best local bakeries. After sampling their wares, she selected two boxes of pastries and fruit for the other three county households.
Watermelons, with their many seeds, symbolized fertility, while their red flesh evoked the joy of family reunions—perfect for the festival.
Madam Tian reciprocated with fresh, dew-kissed flowers, two boxes of rose-flavored pastries, and a crate of grapes.
Ying marveled, "Madam Tian’s gifts are so novel! I’ve never tasted rose pastries before."
"Nor I," Jin Niang agreed, sampling one. Unlike typical greasy sweets, these carried a delicate floral sweetness without bitterness.
When Madam Tian visited with her son, Winter Brother, she gladly shared the recipe. Jin Niang enthused, "Once I have time, I’ll have the kitchen try it!"
Winter Brother, though frail like many children (even Sister Jun had recently suffered a stomach ailment), possessed striking features. The two mothers exchanged child-rearing tips, with Jin Niah maintaining detailed journals of her children’s daily lives—a practice Madam Tian adored.
After the festival, Madam Qi fell ill. Jin Niang found her pallid and bedridden, a headband cinched around her brow. "Please, rest! We’ve come to visit, not trouble you," she urged.
Madam Qi’s ailment stemmed partly from feminine complaints, partly from heartache. Childless while her husband’s concubine had borne sons, she fretted over her uncertain future.
Longing to visit a temple for divine intervention but wary of going alone, she told Jin Niang, "Once I recover, let us pilgrimage to Purple Gold Nunnery together."
Jin Niang readily agreed.
On her way out, Jin Niang spotted a nimble-fingered young woman with a physician’s kit entering the magistrate’s quarters. "Is she a healer?" she asked a maid.
"The county’s female coroner," came the reply. "She knows some medicine. Her acupuncture often relieves Madam’s chills."
A female coroner! Jin Niang marveled at the novelty.
That evening, Jiang Xian returned to a light supper—the lingering summer heat discouraged heavy fare. "Madam Qi invites me to Purple Gold Nunnery in three days," Jin Niang mentioned.
"Pilgrimage? Excellent—you’ll get some air," Jiang Xian approved.
He rejoiced at his wife’s blossoming sociability. In the capital, she’d been reclusive, but here, she thrived in company. Back then, embroidery had sufficed; now, connections mattered—sometimes even revealing official affairs through domestic channels.
"Xian, how do you and County Captain Mei fare?" Jin Niang asked, serving him soup with a concerned glance.
Jiang Xian nodded: "Not bad. This person seems quite shrewd and capable, able to mingle with all sorts of people. He’s also cautious when dealing with me."
Seeing him like this, Jin Niang said, "I don’t understand the affairs of your official circles. All I know is that it never hurts to be a little more careful."
This was Jin Niang—when it came to matters outside her expertise, she never presumed to interfere.
That day, Jin Niang accompanied the group to the Purple Gold Nunnery. Jiang Xian sent his attendant, Ding San, along to protect them. Ding San drove the carriage, inside which sat Jin Niang and Nanny Fang, while the donkey cart behind was steered by Young Master Chen, carrying Ying and Qingrong.
This time, Jin Niang didn’t wear a veil but draped a thin white gauze over her head, giving her the appearance of Guanyin. Though she didn’t particularly believe in deities, she had still painstakingly copied a sutra to offer at the nunnery.
Nanny Fang remarked with a smile, "This Wu County is truly a lovely place, with its clear waters and lush mountains."
"Nanny, why would Madam Qi, who’s just recovered from illness, insist on coming to the nunnery to pray?" Jin Niang couldn’t understand. If it were her, she’d rest properly instead.
Nanny Fang, being wise with age, knew exactly why: "What matters most to a woman is her children. Madam Qi is virtuous, but while she has several stepchildren, she herself has none. Of course she’s anxious. Some nuns here supposedly possess secret fertility remedies—she’s likely here for that."
Jin Niang shook her head. "There’s no such thing as a fertility secret."
But Madam Qi hadn’t confided in her, and since their friendship was superficial, Jin Niang didn’t feel it was her place to advise her.
Upon arriving at the Purple Gold Nunnery, they were greeted by the nuns, who ushered them inside. Unexpectedly, the coroner’s wife was accompanying Madam Qi, so Jin Niang kept her distance. Madam Bao approached and said, "That lowly coroner has no sense of propriety. She’s latched onto the magistrate’s wife and now thinks she can rise above her station."
Female coroners were typically called "sitting women" or "midwives," primarily responsible for examining female bodies.
This coroner’s wife was young and unmarried, which ordinarily disqualified her from the role. But her mother was a physician, and she herself had a passion for solving cases, so she inherited her father’s profession and became an exception.
Since County Captain Mei and Jiang Xian handled most official cases, Jin Niang wasn’t worried about Jiang Xian. Madam Bao, however, seemed uneasy about her husband interacting too much with the female coroner and thus gossiped endlessly. Jin Niang listened without comment.
Still, Jin Niang pointed out to Madam Bao, "There seems to be another group ahead—they don’t look like nuns."
Madam Bao smiled. "That’s the local gentry family. They own gold and silver shops and cloth stores, with thriving businesses. They also have relatives serving in the court, so even officials dare not slight them."
"Sister Bao, you’re so knowledgeable—and skilled at backgammon too! My husband told me to learn from you." Jin Niang spoke with admiration.
Madam Bao was a contradictory woman—two-faced and ruthless, yet also remarkably genuine.
Madam Tian, aware of Madam Bao’s temper, chose to placate her, prioritizing harmony. Jin Niang, though deferential, didn’t bend to her whims. She wouldn’t cut ties with the wife of Constable Qin just because Madam Bao disliked her, nor would she avoid Madam Tian for the same reason.
The gentry family ahead bore the surname Gu. Madam Gu, her mother-in-law Old Madam Gu, and their children and daughters-in-law had all come to welcome them.
Old Madam Gu, though advanced in years, was sharp as ever. "I’ve prepared a vegetarian feast for the magistrate’s wife and the ladies. You must try the Purple Gold Nunnery’s famed vegetarian dishes."
Madam Qi smiled. "The nunnery’s meals are so sought-after that reservations stretch into next year. For us to enjoy such an arrangement today is all thanks to Old Madam Gu and Madam Gu."
Madam Gu quickly demurred.
The nunnery, nestled against mountains and water, was elegant and serene, with lush foliage lining the paths. Jin Niang had visited grand temples in the capital, but this place had a distinctly southern charm.
The vegetarian dishes were indeed delicious—fresh and perfectly cooked. Jin Niang hated dishes that looked exquisite but tasted awful.
The Gu family was impeccably courteous, treating the wives of the clerks with respect. Their gifts weren’t crass; instead, they presented fans, citing the summer heat. The fans appeared ordinary at first glance but were exquisitely crafted—the bamboo ribs fine as bristles, the handles lacquered and hollow-carved with intricate cloud patterns that could even rotate.
This was the art of carved lacquer. Jin Niang marveled inwardly.
After the meal, the group retired to their rooms to rest from the journey. Jin Niang, having come along merely as an escort and donated ten taels of silver, went straight to sleep.
Madam Qi, of course, was here for fertility. After donating generously and praying earnestly, she received two charms and several packets of medicine. The coroner’s wife, excluded from such private matters, waited outside. When Madam Qi emerged, she said, "Let’s go, madam."
"Alright." Though Madam Qi was uneasy around those who dealt with the dead, the coroner’s wife was skilled in medicine. Whenever she felt unwell, she’d have her administer acupuncture rather than consult outsiders.
The coroner’s wife glanced ahead. "Madam Bao is up front. Let’s take a detour."
Madam Bao was a sharp-tongued troublemaker, so Madam Qi agreed. They took a side path but stumbled upon a woman’s corpse along the way.
...
What was meant to be a leisurely outing turned into a murder case.
The woman was said to have washed ashore from the river near the nunnery, her body strangely preserved.
This was Jiang Xian’s first case since taking office. Jin Niang was nervous, but he remained unfazed. "This was likely staged by the female coroner—she probably wanted to expose the truth for this woman."
"Murder?" Jin Niang asked.
Jiang Xian shook his head. "Not quite. Do you know why her body hasn’t decayed after over a month? Because it’s full of mercury and cinnabar."
"Was it for insomnia? I’ve heard cinnabar calms the mind and detoxifies." Jin Niang said.
But cinnabar wasn’t cheap—this corpse was just a maidservant. Could it be contraceptive medicine?
"Contraceptive medicine. It must be contraceptive medicine."
To avoid conception, Jin Niang and Jiang Xian used sheep intestines, akin to modern condoms, or alternatively, avoided finishing inside. However, some selfish men refused to wear such things, and since the primary wives did not want maidservants bearing children, they resorted to medicines like musk or mercury.
This was a dark secret of the inner household. Jiang Xian glanced at his wife. "You're clever, my dear. This woman was originally the concubine of the eldest son of the Hu family, the Provincial Surveillance Commissioner. Since his official wife had not yet married into the family, he took this woman as his own and frequently forced her to drink contraceptive concoctions."
Jin Niang looked at him. "Then what do you intend to do? Shouldn’t you gather evidence first before making arrests? Administering mercury is nothing short of poisoning."
Seeing his wife’s serious gaze, Jiang Xian replied earnestly, "I will immediately send someone to interrogate the Hu family."
"In that case, I shall thank you on behalf of all women under heaven," Jin Niang said.
Jiang Xian smiled faintly. Sometimes, straightforward action was best.
As for how to gather evidence during the process and navigate the Hu family’s influence without offending them—that would require his own wisdom.
...
Within three days, the Hu family admitted that the woman had indeed been their eldest son’s concubine. However, they claimed ignorance about the mercury poisoning, blaming instead an envious old nanny from the medicine shop who, resentful of the woman’s high wages, had secretly replaced her medicine with a contraceptive brew—never expecting it would kill her.
The nanny was sentenced to death, and the Hu family compensated the woman’s family with two hundred taels of silver.
When the Hu family attempted to bribe Jiang Xian, Jin Niang made the decision to return the money.
This case served as a warning to all women in the county: contraceptive medicines were extremely harmful to the body and could even lead to death.
Yet, the female coroner remained dissatisfied. Instead of approaching Jiang Xian, she sought out Jin Niang. "Madam Wei, the true mastermind behind this is the Hu family’s eldest son. I implore you to inform the County Captain."
"Coroner, private discussions have no place in official matters. If you truly wish to pursue this, you should either find evidence to prove it or take it directly to your superiors—County Captains Jiang and Mei. I can do nothing," Jin Niang replied.
The coroner’s face flushed with embarrassment. She had heard that the County Captain’s wife was sympathetic to the cause and had hoped Jiang Xian would execute the Hu family’s eldest son. After all, the Hu family was a powerful local clan with deep roots—how could a lowly coroner like her stand against them?
Jiang Xian, on the other hand, was rumored to have influential connections. He could easily call upon higher authorities to deal with the Hu family.
But Jin Niang’s words pierced through her illusions. Based on the current evidence, this was the only possible verdict. If she disagreed, she should either gather more proof or appeal to the two County Captains—not come here and try to guilt-trip her.
The coroner left in a huff.
Watching her retreat, Jin Niang thought to herself, It’s only because Jiang Xian has some backing that this case was even investigated. Without such influence, the investigator would have been replaced long ago.
Moreover, Jiang Xian was merely a deputy official. The final judgment rested with Magistrate Hou. Unless Jiang Xian was willing to sacrifice his career—but why should he risk everything for an inner-household scandal when even the coroner herself wasn’t willing to stake her life on it?
