Madam Bao loved eating goose, so her home was always stocked with various goose dishes—crystal goose from Madam Tian, roasted goose from Jin Niang, and braised goose soup from Madam Qi. These moments brought her the greatest joy, as she would happily nibble on goose while perusing gift lists with her feet propped up.
Outside, the tailor delivered three sets of lavish gold-sprinkled robes. Madam Bao promptly paid the tailor and gleefully tried them on. Still unsatisfied, she withdrew funds from the household account to commission hairpins and earrings, then dipped into her private savings for thirty taels of silver to craft four gold bracelets.
Only after the bracelets were made did she realize her purse now held only a few scattered taels.
"Madam, why did you spend all your private savings?" Qiao'er, her most trusted maid, fretted over her mistress's finances.
Madam Bao, who treated Qiao'er differently from others, confided, "You don’t understand. The newly appointed Comptroller’s wife has invited us to a plum blossom viewing. After that, the Garrison Commander’s daughter will celebrate her coming-of-age ceremony. How can I wear the same pair of gold bracelets every day?"
Her dowry had been meager—just two shallow trunks filled with what she called "watermelon outfits," garish servant attire like bright red skirts and emerald green jackets, entirely unsuitable for formal occasions.
Qiao'er agreed. The two then discussed return gifts. While others could simply pull fabrics from their dowry chests, Madam Bao had no choice but to dip into the household funds again.
As for whether County Captain Mei was wealthy—he often apprehended criminals and collected taxes, so he certainly had money. However, the bulk of it remained in his hands, with portions allocated for official gifts and the household expenses of Madam Bao and his concubines. Yet these weren’t truly her funds, making it hard to save privately.
Eager to shine at the upcoming event, Madam Bao planned meticulously.
Meanwhile, Jin Niang attended the betrothal ceremony of the Gu family’s second daughter for the second time, receiving a total of four hundred taels, two crates of tea cakes, sixteen bolts of fashionable silk, four boxes of spices, two aged ginseng roots, and two cases of jade hairpins.
After storing everything in trunks, Jin Niang spent eight strings of cash to buy leather boots for herself and Jiang Xian, practical for winter outings. Jiang Xian’s boots featured cranes on a lake-blue background, while hers bore peony motifs on crimson silk.
When Jiang Xian tried them on, he asked the price and remarked, "You always think of me."
"I bought a pair for myself too. We’ll attend the Comptroller’s plum blossom banquet this year," Jin Niang replied with a smile.
She had plans. Fertile land in Wu County cost three taels per mu. A hundred mu would amount to three hundred taels—a sum she now possessed from serving as a matchmaker. Still, she couldn’t exhaust her liquid funds. Once Jiang Xian’s salary and rental income from Bianjing arrived next year, she intended to purchase an estate.
But being unfamiliar with the area, she couldn’t rush into buying land or hiring managers. She’d have to proceed carefully.
In Wu County, a peck of rice cost about sixty coins, and a mu of fertile land yielded two to three dan annually—roughly sixty taels in earnings. If disaster struck Bianjing, they could transport grain there to avoid shortages.
Yet if they were reassigned elsewhere, managing distant land for sixty taels wouldn’t be practical. Better to save more now for future investments.
At least it was steady income.
With this in mind, Jin Niang tempered her excitement and returned to embroidering a Guanyin tapestry.
Jiang Xian, sipping tea, noticed her needlework and chided gently, "Don’t strain your eyes. You should rest more."
"I only stitch during spare moments. The children keep me busy otherwise," Jin Niang laughed.
The couple exchanged brief words before resuming their tasks. At lunch, Jin Niang set aside her needlework to dote on the children. Sister Jun was bright with an excellent memory, but Brother Ning, barely a year old, surpassed her—recognizing and reciting picture books after a single lesson, astonishing Jin Niang.
Still, Sister Jun’s cheerful nature made her more endearing, while Brother Ning had a strong-willed personality.
"Mother, tell me the story of 'Yanzi’s Mission to Chu' again," Brother Ning pleaded.
"Later," Jin Niang promised, stroking his head. She taught the children tales like "Startling the World with a Single Feat" or "Sun Jing Barring His Door," while simpler texts like "Quick Mastery" and "Grand Duke’s Household Instructions" suited Brother Ning’s age.
She prepared lesson plans, breaking concepts into digestible bits—a method Jiang Xian admired, as Jin Niang lived with purposeful fullness.
In the afternoon, after time with the children, Jin Niang selected her banquet attire. Ying pressed and perfumed the garments, then laid out jewelry for quick dressing later.
On the day of the plum banquet, Madam Qi coordinated their departure. Attending a government function required formal headdresses. Jin Niang owned one from her wedding and a silver "ruyi cloud" coronet commissioned after Jiang Xian’s civil service exam success. Its silver base, inlaid with gold motifs, was lightweight and affordable.
She adorned the coronet with trendy silk flowers, a gold comb in front, and twin-flower gold hairpins behind.
Dressed in a white plum-patterned underrobe, teal silk jacket embroidered with camellias, and a pastel sable-lined overdress, she fastened a jade pendant (a gift from Zhang Jiulang) at her waist and wore her mother-in-law’s jade bracelet.
With only two fur coats—sable being prohibitively expensive—she opted for a shorter style to save costs. She’d wear the full-length one at the Garrison Commander’s gathering.
Finally, she slipped into her new gold-embroidered russet leather boots.
Once ready, she joined Madam Qi and Madam Tian. Madam Qi wore a filigreed gold coronet and thick fur, while Madam Tian sported a purple lynx coat with a gold "ruyi cloud" headpiece.
Jin Niang remarked without envy, "Sister, did you get yours from Shen’s shop in Bianjing too? The craftsmanship is exquisite."
"No, mine came from Lin’an," Madam Tian replied.
"Ours share the same design, though yours is gold—far lovelier." Jin Niang smiled, unbothered. Gold cost ten times more than silver, and she saw no need for such extravagance.
Madam Tian, with her exceptional emotional intelligence, quickly chimed in, "I think Sister’s is even more exquisite—the gold inlay makes it shimmer like rippling water."
As the three of them chatted, Madam Bao arrived last, adorned with a golden crown and dressed in lavish attire—a brocade gown embroidered with gold and paired with a pale yellow skirt.
Snow had fallen for several days, and the melting slush made it easy for shoes to soak through. Jin Niang was grateful for her foresight in wearing leather boots; otherwise, her feet would have been drenched.
Noticing that both Madam Tian and Jin Niang wore cloud-patterned crowns—one gold, the other silver—Madam Bao teased, "You two are quite the pair."
Jin Niang replied, "Our tastes are very similar."
Madam Tian, initially feeling a bit awkward, smiled at this. "Indeed, no wonder we get along so well."
Madam Bao, usually close to Jin Niang, realized her remark might have been tactless and swiftly changed the subject. Once Madam Qi had finished preparing, she ushered everyone into sedan chairs or carriages to head to the prefectural office.
Most county officials’ families didn’t have the privilege of frequent interactions with the prefectural gentry, but Wu County, being the capital county, shared the city with them, making such gatherings more convenient.
The Wu County office was already grand, with its own gardens, but the prefectural office was even more magnificent.
Amid the snow-covered landscape, yellow winter plum blossoms dotted the scenery like fresh buds. Madam Wei, the wife of the vice prefect, was in her mid-thirties, elegantly dressed and well-versed in both past and present affairs.
After Madam Qi led Jin Niang and the others in paying their respects, they settled indoors, where rows of blazing braziers warded off the winter chill. Instead of venturing into the snow to admire the flowers, they sipped hot tea by the latticed windows, watching the snowflakes dust the plum blossoms.
But the real purpose wasn’t flower appreciation—it was networking.
Jin Niang and the others naturally followed Madam Qi’s lead in flattering Madam Wei. Madam Bao had dressed extravagantly, hoping to impress, but things didn’t go as planned.
Their group barely exchanged more than a few words, spending time playing arrow-throwing games, backgammon, and sharing a feast—though it came with the expectation of gifts.
On the way back, Madam Bao grumbled incessantly. Her shoes were completely soaked, and Qiao'er carefully removed her crown, saying, "Let me put this away safely so no one can take it."
"Good. After we visit the military commissioner’s house, return it to the pawnshop immediately. No one must see it," Madam Bao instructed. She owned a silver crown, but after being outshone by Madam Tian once, she’d resorted to borrowing a gold one from the pawnshop. As officials, they could get away with such things—the pawnshop wouldn’t dare press them for repayment. Still, to avoid gossip, she returned it promptly after use.
Later, at the military commissioner’s home, Jin Niang wore the gilded silver "Hundred Flowers" crown gifted by her in-laws at her wedding, paired with a lilac satin-lined lambswool gown embroidered with plum blossoms. Again, she spent the time sitting and chatting, barely getting a word in.
But Jin Niang wasn’t impatient. "This is what they call the ‘cold bench,’" she told Ying. "Once it warms up, things will improve."
Nanny Fang agreed. "You’re absolutely right. Since they invited you, they acknowledge you. Trying too hard would seem desperate and make you a laughingstock. This composure befits a lady of your standing."
Apart from the military commissioner’s and vice prefect’s wives, there were also the judge’s wife and local gentry. Jin Niang didn’t stretch beyond her means—she paired the emerald hairpins from the Gu family with her wedding dowry’s gold filigree jewelry.
She also observed the dynamics: some used banquets for networking, others played matchmakers, and some simply sought to expand their social circles.
The arrow-throwing and backgammon skills Jin Niang had learned on the boat came in handy, as the ladies often played these or card games. She also gathered useful information—like the judge’s family serving fresh lotus root and pickled cabbage from their own estate, or their citrus groves producing the famed "Dongting" mandarins of Pingjiang Prefecture, which sold for a hundred coins each—several times pricier than modern-day Ponkan oranges.
The judge’s wife, noticing Jin Niang’s fondness for the fruit, gifted her a flask of mandarin wine. Upon returning, Jin Niang immediately took notes: if she ever bought land, she’d plant cash crops alongside staples.
When Jiang Xian came home, he found Jin Niang in a peach-pink tunic and soft green sleeveless jacket, bent over her desk in deep concentration—a sight so charming it quickened his pulse. He hurried over.
Hearing him, Jin Niang set aside her notebook. "It’s freezing outside. How was your day?"
"The office was dull as usual," Jiang Xian replied, pulling up a chair beside her. He rarely spoke of his tedious official duties.
Their banter soon turned playful, Jiang Xian teasing and Jin Niang blushing, until the room brimmed with warmth.
Meanwhile, Madam Bao’s situation was far less cheerful. After days of wet feet from these outings, she caught a cold, leaving her dizzy and weak.
When County Captain Mei returned to check on her, she dabbed her eyes. "They say a woman marries for food and clothing, but what care does my husband give me? Others have fur boots and coats, changing daily, while I have nothing."
Instead of sympathy, County Captain Mei found her tearful look endearing. "Let me help you sweat it out," he said with a chuckle. "I’ll call the cobbler later."
Then he pressed her down for a "remedy."
Next door, Madam Tian gave Captain Yang’s wife a turquoise silk jacket and a jade-green embroidered skirt, saying, "If you’re in need, come to me. The child shouldn’t suffer for his father’s neglect."
Captain Yang was a disgrace—his family lacked proper clothing while he squandered money elsewhere.
His wife, usually scatterbrained, was always grateful to Madam Tian. "You’re the only one who treats me well," she said, then revealed a secret: "Madam Bao’s gold crown is borrowed from the pawnshop. I saw Qiao'er there when I was pawning my things."
Still resentful over past slights, Captain Yang’s wife was eager to spread Madam Bao’s shame.
But Madam Tian wasn’t one for gossip. Her marriage, hard-won after losing a son before the birth of her second, Brother Dong, was now blissful—her husband doted on her, and she lived in contentment. Why meddle in others’ affairs?
When Madam Bao saw that Madam Tian refused to engage, she realized the latter was a tolerant woman. Left with no choice, she took it upon herself to play the villain and spread the word everywhere—even Jin Niang heard about it.
Ying sneered, "That woman is utterly vain."
But Jin Niang thought to herself: If I couldn’t earn money, even if I married into a wealthy family relying on my beauty, I’d end up the same way. Men are generous to women they haven’t yet won over, but once married, they’d begrudge spending a single coin. Madam Bao, with her meager dowry, had to beg for everything, unable to buy what she wanted freely.
Reflecting on this, Jin Niang grasped many truths she hadn’t understood before.
A woman like Madam Tian, who acted like a Bodhisattva, did so because she had everything. She saw no need to stir trouble—petty issues could be settled with small sums, preserving her dignity while earning a good reputation. Why not?
As for Madam Bao, her aggressive posturing stemmed from having nothing. She had to make noise, to assert herself, swinging between insecurity and arrogance.
This was the first New Year Jin Niang spent away from home. With Jiang Xian’s yamen closed for the holidays, she could manage household matters well enough, but cooking wasn’t her forte. Jiang Xian, itching to flex his culinary skills after a long hiatus, whipped up a few dishes.
"My lord, if only you cooked for me every day! I love your dishes—perfectly seasoned and delicious," Jin Niang praised enthusiastically.
Jiang Xian flushed slightly. "My dear, this year I plan to focus on cracking down on human traffickers. There’s been a surge in abductions—women and children sold off or held for ransom. So, I might not be able to celebrate the holidays with you."
Jin Niang smiled. "That’s alright. If you succeed, it’ll be a stellar achievement."
"That’s what I thought too. Next year, the county exam will be overseen by Magistrate Hou himself, and he meddles in riverworks too. I need to carve my own path. With some accomplishments under my belt, we won’t have to endure his bullying forever."
Jin Niang agreed but voiced her concern: "These traffickers operate in groups. Will you have enough men?"
"Don’t worry about that," Jiang Xian reassured her.
His primary motive was career advancement, but he also aimed to curry favor with local elites—after all, traffickers often targeted beautiful women, many from wealthy families. He kept this second reason from Jin Niang, lest it tarnish her image of him as a noble, compassionate hero.
To her, he was a dashing, brilliant, kind-hearted man with grand ambitions!
During the New Year, Jiang Xian was rarely home. Jin Niang, freed from social obligations, enjoyed the quiet—reading, sewing, and finally focusing on her embroidery of Guanyin seated on a lotus. In between stitches, she chatted with the children. The siblings kept each other company: Sister Jun told stories to Brother Ning, who adored his elder sister.
Sister Jun was her little helper. When Brother Ning got noisy, she’d press a finger to her lips. "Shh, Mama’s busy. Don’t disturb her."
"Look, Sister! I’m a pig—oink oink!" Brother Ning teased.
Even the mature Sister Jun was still a child. Soon, the two were mimicking animals, their giggles giving Jin Niang a headache until the nursemaids took them away to play.
By the Lantern Festival, Jin Niang had nearly finished the embroidery. Meanwhile, Jiang Xian set a trap during the bustling festivities, arresting thirteen trafficking rings in one sweep—rescuing daughters of officials, gentry, even lost boys.
Earlier, Jiang Xian had taken over three hundred taels from Jin Niang to grease palms. With his own network and County Captain Mei’s support, the constables obeyed him.
The massive bust, followed by swift interrogations and victim reunions, became the talk of the town—thanks to Advisor Song hiring gossips to spread Jiang Xian’s deeds. When Magistrate Hou heard, he was livid.
Was cracking down on traffickers good? Yes! Comforting victims’ families right? Absolutely!
But only Hou Gong should reap such glory.
He summoned Jiang Xian and berated him harshly.
In the past, Jiang Xian would’ve groveled. This time, he apologized but added with a smile, "Your Honor, safeguarding Wu County is my duty. When I arrived, my uncle warned me to prove myself—or face consequences."
Previously, Jiang Xian had played the role of a humble scholar with no connections. Magistrate Hou’s inquiries revealed only that Jiang Xian’s family was obscure—his father and grandfather commoners, his brother a fellow recent jinshi. Though rumored to have studied under the retired Academician Huang, Jiang Xian’s wife came from an ordinary family, and his maternal grandfather, a former Hanlin scholar, was long deceased.
Hou had dismissed him.
Now, sensing a shift, Hou asked warily, "And who might your uncle be?"
"The Minister of Revenue. Pales in comparison to the Grand Councilor, of course—though the new Grand Councilor’s daughter-in-law is my sister-in-law’s cousin." Jiang Xian smiled faintly.
This was how officialdom worked: without backing, others would steal your merits. But Hou Gong had gone too far.
We’re both jinshi. Your patron is the Grand Councilor, but I’ve built my own alliances.
Magistrate Hou reassessed Jiang Xian—no longer meek, but exuding the aura of a privileged scion. Flustered by Jiang Xian’s unyielding demeanor, he stiffened.
Jiang Xian continued, "Your Honor, I merely seek achievements to expedite my return to the capital."
Translation: Don’t interfere. You’ve amassed wealth here and cling to your seat. I aspire higher—power, not money. Let’s not cross paths.
In officialdom, the rule was: bully the old, not the young. Though ruthless, Hou Gong wasn’t foolish. If Jiang Xian aimed for a swift promotion out of Wu County, so much the better.
Swallowing his pride, Hou conceded.
......
The rescued families came bearing lavish gifts, but Jiang Xian "reluctantly" declined them all. As Jin Niang had advised: accepting bribes in his first year, no matter how discreetly, risked leaving a stain if exposed by censors.
Jiang Xian followed the clues and managed to track down the higher-ups behind the kidnappers, rescuing over twenty people from another hideout. As for the kidnappers who fled, warrants were issued for their arrest.
This brought great satisfaction to the people, and Jin Niang was also overjoyed.
However, there were also some rather awkward incidents. Among those rescued by Jiang Xian was the daughter of a wealthy merchant. The merchant wanted his daughter to enter Jiang Xian’s household as a second wife, serving both him and Jin Niang, and even offered a generous dowry as a gesture of gratitude.
It was said that Jiang Xian immediately took a step back and said, “Old sir, are you repaying a kindness or trying to ruin me?”
The merchant was puzzled—wasn’t this a good thing?
Only after returning home did Jiang Xian explain to Jin Niang, “I did a good deed by saving people, yet now it’s being twisted into some romantic scandal, tarnishing my reputation.”
Jin Niang thought to herself that this man was truly career-driven. What Jiang Xian cared about was his official evaluation. If rumors of romantic entanglements spread and people exaggerated the matter, it would only bring trouble.
Meanwhile, Jiang Xian stole a glance at his wife’s expression and finally let out a sigh of relief. Thankfully, she believed him. Otherwise, if she doubted him and thought he was only preoccupied with love affairs, what could he do?
