After the Dragon Boat Festival, following two months of practice, Jin Niang's double-sided embroidery had progressed from rudimentary sketches to now crafting a fan so lifelike it seemed real. Sister Jun adored this fan, and Jin Niang even added some tassels to its handle for her.
"Mother, thank you for making this for me," Sister Jun said, unable to put it down.
Jin Niang smiled gently. "You shouldn’t use it every day just yet—it’s not that hot outside."
After breakfast together, Sister Jun settled down to read and practice calligraphy while Jin Niang attended to household matters. Summer was approaching, and she had the coarse silk she’d received as a reward for serving as Sister Hou San’s bridal attendant sent for dyeing—half in lake blue, the other half in water pink, costing a total of one string and four hundred coins. These would then be distributed among the servants for new clothes.
In the household, Minzhi was usually the one commissioned for sewing, allowing her to earn some extra money, though some servants preferred outside tailors. This was considered a small benefit for the staff. Having once been a working woman herself, Jin Niang understood how much such gestures meant—whether it was the Zhou family or the embroidery workshop handing out little gifts, they always brought joy, making the hard work feel worthwhile.
Within days, the servants of the Jiang household were all dressed in fresh attire. When the wife of Clerk Huang noticed, she immediately reported it to Madam Bao. The two women were birds of a feather, though Clerk Huang’s wife only spread gossip, never daring to confront anyone directly.
"The Jiang family’s servants have all gotten new clothes—wonder where they suddenly got the money from?"
Madam Bao sneered. "What else? Embezzled, of course. Ugh, that corrupt official!"
Clerk Huang’s wife feigned shock. "You shouldn’t say such things! Everyone knows County Captain Jiang never accepts gifts."
"That’s just for show. Who knows what happens behind closed doors?" Madam Bao spat.
Truthfully, she bore no real grudge against Jin Niang. But there were always people like her in the world—those who, instead of improving themselves, resented others for their success.
Once, her target had been Madam Tian. Now, it was Jin Niang.
Ironically, this had led Madam Bao to reconcile with Madam Tian, who had always been eager to please her, fearing her sharp tongue. Now that they were on good terms again, Madam Tian even gifted her a set of fine brocade clothes in relief.
In return, Madam Bao helped Madam Tian paste a pair of shoe uppers, remarking, "We should avoid Madam Qi’s place for now. I hear an investigation is underway—and it’s serious."
Madam Tian sighed. "Who would’ve thought?"
"What’s so surprising? If you squat in a position too long without moving, someone’s bound to come after you. Isn’t that common knowledge?" Madam Bao spoke as if she were an expert.
Before Madam Tian could respond, news arrived that the tutor hired by Registrar Han for his son had arrived. She hurried off, leaving Madam Bao to her thoughts.
Madam Bao mused that she wasn’t incapable of bearing children. Once, she’d unknowingly been pregnant but caught a cold and engaged in marital relations, leading to a miscarriage. Fortunately, she’d kept it secret, so no one knew.
She didn’t particularly care for children, but seeing Madam Tian’s life, she couldn’t help thinking that if she had one, she’d surely raise them better.
Meanwhile, Magistrate Hou’s river construction project had been reported for misconduct, along with irregularities in the county school examinations. The prefect had requested an audit from the supervisory office of Liangzhe Circuit. With Magistrate Hou temporarily suspended, County Captain Jiang Xian was now acting magistrate—even Registrar Han, his former superior, had to defer to him.
At home, Registrar Han confided to Madam Tian, "Our Winter Boy must aim for the imperial examinations. I don’t want him suffering the humiliations I’ve endured in officialdom."
Madam Tian smiled. "Now that we’ve hired a tutor, he’ll study hard."
Registrar Han sighed. "The political landscape is so unstable."
He’d avoided confronting Hou Gong precisely because he’d foreseen this downfall. Though Hou Gong hadn’t been a diligent scholar, he had a knack for reading people.
Madam Tian’s family had once been wealthy, but her father’s demotion had forced her mother to seek refuge with an aunt. There, her uncle had harassed her mother, and they’d endured it for survival. After remarrying a wealthy man, they’d enjoyed two good years—until her stepfather died, and his relatives descended like locusts.
Though she and her mother escaped with some valuables, without male protection, life was precarious. When her cousin fell ill, Madam Tian was sent to care for her—and during that time, she seduced Registrar Han, her cousin’s husband.
Secretly, she’d even hoped her cousin wouldn’t recover, so she could marry Han and secure her future. After her cousin’s death, though her aunt suspected her, Madam Tian’s kindness to the deceased’s daughter eventually won acceptance. These years of stability had been her atonement.
Now, hearing of the investigations, she panicked. "This won’t affect us, will it?"
Registrar Han reassured her, "No, don’t worry. I’ve kept my distance from those matters. We just need to live quietly."
Relieved, Madam Tian suggested, "Since County Captain Jiang is acting magistrate now, should we send congratulatory gifts?"
"Fine, but nothing extravagant. We don’t want to attract attention. Besides, if Hou Gong is dismissed, the court will appoint a new magistrate." Registrar Han knew the rules.
A prosperous county like Wu wouldn’t permanently entrust a man in his early twenties with such responsibility. But if Jiang Xian navigated this interim period well, with the right connections and skill, he could rise quickly.
Madam Tian understood.
When Jin Niang learned of Jiang Xian’s temporary promotion, she cautioned him, "You’re far more capable than I am in official matters. But remember—Hou Gong isn’t finished yet, and a new magistrate may arrive. You must tread carefully."
Jiang Xian laughed. "Most people would be drunk on power, yet here you are, urging caution. You’re truly meticulous." But he took her words to heart.
Jin Niang added, "We’re not wealthy, but we lack nothing. With our children and each other, I’m content. Now that you serve the court, I only ask that you don’t sacrifice yourself for duty."
Nanny Fang, listening nearby, thought to herself how tactful her mistress was—framing her concern about Jiang Xian overreaching as worry for his well-being.
After their conversation, Jiang Xian left for the government office.
As for Jin Niang, she had her own tasks to attend to. The manor had delivered a basket of duck eggs and twenty goose eggs. The duck eggs were straightforward—she planned to pickle them into salted eggs, which would be delicious.
Goose eggs, however, were less commonly eaten, so Jin Niang discussed with Juxiang how to prepare them. Juxiang suggested, "How about making steamed eggs for Sister Jun and Brother Ning?"
"Not yet. They should stick to chicken eggs for now. Goose eggs are rare—each costs a tael of silver. Make sure none are broken. But isn’t Minzhi pregnant? Boil one for her. I’ve heard goose eggs can cleanse fetal toxins. As for the remaining nineteen, store them for now. I’ll ask around for recipes so we don’t waste them," Jin Niang said.
Juxiang smiled. "As you say."
Minzhi received a bowl of steamed goose egg custard from Juxiang, who added, "Even Sister Jun and Brother Ning didn’t get any. This was specially prepared for you. The mistress treats you so well."
"How can I accept this?" Minzhi, now heavily pregnant, was already showered with gifts like red dates and longan from Jin Niang. This additional kindness left her overwhelmed.
Juxiang wasn’t as quick-tongued as Ying, but she was sincere. Unlike others who hid their gratitude, she simply said, "The mistress is kind."
Minzhi could only laugh helplessly at her bluntness.
Meanwhile, as acting magistrate, Jiang Xian consulted Prefect Shen on all matters. Aware of the approaching flood season, he devoted himself to river maintenance.
Despite his usual fastidiousness, he returned from the riverbanks with mud-stained shoes and trousers. Knowing his aversion to dirt, Jin Niang immediately arranged for him to bathe and change. She then had the maids serve dinner, explaining, "I’ve been asking about goose egg recipes. Some say pickling is best, others recommend stir-frying with Chinese toon shoots. I heard goose eggs ward off colds and calm the mind, while cilantro aids digestion, so I had Juxiang stir-fry them with cilantro. Try it."
Jiang Xian hesitated at the mention of cilantro but obliged under Jin Niang’s expectant gaze. To his surprise, the dish tasted different from scrambled eggs.
Jin Niang smiled. "I boiled one egg first, chopped it, then stir-fried it with another. The texture is soft yet springy."
"Then I’ll have more," Jiang Xian said, finishing the dish along with a bowl of chicken soup and seasonal vegetables, thoroughly satisfied.
Magistrate Hou’s arrest had sent his allies scrambling—two thousand taels were spent in the capital to bribe officials. But as a protégé of the disgraced Chancellor, Hou Gong became a prime target for censors. Charged with bribery, embezzling river funds, and implicating his son-in-law the comptroller, the judge, and even the regional inspector, his downfall was swift.
Jiang Xian was questioned repeatedly but cleared—he’d arrived late, and the entire yamen testified he’d been sidelined, left to handle petty theft cases, with even those credits nearly stolen by Hou Gong.
Hou Gong was sentenced to flogging, facial tattooing, and exile. His household collapsed overnight. His once-obsequious steward absconded with thousands of taels, while Sister Hou San, jilted by her fiancé, was abandoned by her sister-in-law Madam Qi, who secured a divorce and returned to her family with Hou Gong’s unborn heir. Sister Hou San was consigned to the pleasure quarters.
Jin Niang sighed at the tragedy. Jiang Xian shook his head. "Hou Gong didn’t know when to stop. Dragged into factional strife, he doomed his family."
With Hou Gong’s disgrace, Jin Niang withdrew from social obligations, focusing on needlework, reading, and tutoring the children. Jiang Xian poured his energy into flood control, while Jin Niang mobilized the household to weave straw sandals for the laborers. Their efforts paid off—when floods came, not a single breach occurred. Prefect Shen praised Jiang Xian as a capable official, adding, "I heard your wife sent oilcloth during the storms and even wove sandals herself. A commendable tale indeed."
Prefect Shen had investigated—Jin Niang’s humble origins and Jiang Xian’s unwavering loyalty spoke well of his character. Though some whispered about their wealth, it was clear Jiang Xian didn’t take bribes; his wife simply managed their finances shrewdly.
"Absolute purity is impractical," Prefect Shen mused. Maintaining integrity in broad strokes was achievement enough—even he occasionally accepted "calligraphy fees."
By July, rents from Sweetwater Lane arrived—240 strings of cash. The manor delivered seventy-five strings as seasonal land tax, plus two baskets of produce, a basket of eggs, three baskets of fish, and a sack of water chestnuts.
Jin Niang gifted six fish each to Madam Tian and Madam Bao, distributed one to each favored clerk, and kept a basket for the household.
Madam Tian reciprocated with rose pastry, which Jin Niang shared—a third to Juxiang for her summer kitchen toils, some to Sister Jun and Brother Ning, and a few for herself. Madam Bao sent sour dumplings, which Jin Niang gave to hearty eaters like Liu Dou’er and the clerks to prevent spoilage.
Her gifts weren’t extravagant, so she expected no universal gratitude—half showing appreciation was enough. Madam Tian stewed the fish with tofu, savoring its freshness, while Madam Bao grumbled to Qiao’er, "Such trifles, yet we must return favors."
County Captain Mei overheard and chided, "Lake whitefish is delicate—six fish cost two hundred coppers. Don’t dismiss small gifts. They’ve no lack, but this is how lasting bonds are formed." His remark about "they’ve no lack" pricked Madam Bao’s pride, though he spoke true—festive occasions aside, local delicacies were the currency of enduring ties.
Still, some like Captain Yang’s wife and Jiang Liujie remembered kindness—the former sent homemade rice cakes, the latter snowflake cakes.
Before the Ghost Festival, Jin Niang accompanied Madam Shen to Snow-Recluse Nunnery, reciprocating the Buddha statue gift.
Originally called "Nun’s Nunnery," its name changed after someone observed its snow-draped silhouette resembled a reclining figure.
With Minzhi nearing labor, Liu Dou’er drove the carriage. Concerned he’d grow hungry waiting, Jin Niang had Ying pack him two pastries—camel-hoof cakes and "better-than-meat" buns.
The "Sheng Rou" was made by finely chopped mushrooms, fresh bamboo shoots, walnut kernels, and pine nuts mixed into a filling, wrapped in dough, and then pan-fried, resembling vegetarian dumplings. The "Camel Hooves" were filled with minced cooked fatty goose meat, pork fat, and mutton fat, wrapped in dough shaped like horse hooves, and fried in oil rendered from pork and mutton fat, similar to meat dumplings.
Ying watched Liu Dou'er hesitate and couldn't help but giggle behind her hand. "Silly, just pick a few of each."
Liu Dou'er didn’t take offense.
Jin Niang gave him ten coins, telling him to buy a drink if it got too hot.
Despite the scorching summer heat, the Snow-Covered Nunnery was crowded, mostly with women visiting in groups. Madam Shen, though advanced in years, was still sprightly and full of energy. She said to Jin Niang, "Earlier, I noticed how considerate you are toward your servants. That’s very good. They, too, are children of parents and deserve kindness."
Jin Niang nodded in agreement. In truth, such things shouldn’t even need praise. Though they were servants, living together for so long made them no different from family.
She accompanied Madam Shen inside. The elderly woman, who had raised an upright and incorruptible son, had no intention of causing a disturbance. Instead of clearing the place, she entered alongside the other devotees.
They lit several incense sticks. Madam Shen, weary from age, went to rest before listening to the abbess’s sermon on Buddhist teachings. Jin Niang also retired to a side chamber in the west wing, where a nun brought them tea. After drinking, they felt much refreshed.
Still feeling stifled, Jin Niang left Nanny Fang and Qing Rong in the room and took Ying for a stroll along the corridor to get some air.
By chance, she encountered a familiar face—Rongniang.
Rongniang’s appearance was entirely different from before. In Feng Sheng’s household, though not a wealthy one, she had worn fine cotton and silk, even adorning her hair with hairpins. Her striking looks had often led others to mistake her for a noble lady.
Now, she wore an autumn-yellow ramie bodice, a moon-white ramie robe, a dark blue belly wrap, and an indigo apron, her hair covered with a ramie scarf.
Yet, her smile was radiant, a stark contrast to her days with Feng Sheng.
Jin Niang arranged for an empty room where they could talk. When they met again, they found themselves at a loss for words.
Jin Niang spoke first. "Elder Sister, how have you been? I only learned later that you were still alive."
After arriving in Wu County, she hadn’t mentioned these matters to Jiang Xian, nor had she sought Rongniang out. Now that she had reinvented herself, Jin Niang didn’t want to dredge up painful memories—like reopening old wounds.
Meeting by chance like this, Jin Niang set aside the past and instead showed concern for her.
Rongniang seemed dazed. "Those days in Bianjing feel like a dream to me now. I later realized Feng Sheng must have planned this long ago, but I can’t blame anyone. If I hadn’t walked into it myself, who could’ve forced me? Second Sister, how are Brother Lin and Brother Guan?"
"They’re well. They’ve even studied under renowned teachers. When I came to Wu County last year, I heard from... someone that their master praised them highly." Jin Niang wasn’t lying—Lou Siniang had indeed raised the boys well, so well that even the most critical couldn’t find fault.
Feng Sheng’s medical practice was also managed by Lou Siniang, who proved both capable and kind-hearted.
Rongniang, once muddle-headed, now reacted sharply at the mention of "Lou." "Did Feng Sheng marry Lou Siniang?"
Her tone wasn’t one of lingering attachment but of betrayal—especially toward Lou Siniang, given Feng Sheng’s past closeness with the Lou family.
Though she had suspected Feng Sheng’s scheming, she had no proof. Now, hearing he had remarried, she was certain.
Jin Niang didn’t hide it. "Yes, he married Lou Siniang a few months after you left."
"Those who wrong their wives will be struck by lightning. He’ll surely lose his wealth," Rongniang spat bitterly.
Seeing her anger, Jin Niang offered advice. "Elder Sister, do you remember the couple you used to play cards with? Where were they from? If you want to investigate, they might be a lead."
Rongniang shook her head helplessly. "I don’t know. Where would I even look? Besides, Second Sister, I’m remarried now. Though life is humble, my in-laws and husband treat me well."
"What does your husband do now?" Jin Niang asked, seeing she had no interest in revenge.
At the mention of her current husband, Rongniang smiled warmly. "He owns a boat now, ferrying people across the river. I make snacks for him to sell." To avoid harassment due to her beauty, she stayed home preparing food instead of selling it herself.
She also mentioned they had a son, a strikingly handsome boy. "I came to the Snow-Covered Nunnery today to get a protective charm for him."
Jin Niang couldn’t help but ask, "I heard Feng Sheng let you take your dowry. Did you spend all of it?"
Two hundred strings of cash were no small sum. Back then, hiring a boat for over a dozen people cost only three hundred strings, while two passengers would pay fifty at most.
Jin Niang had saved just over a hundred taels after six years of embroidery work—enough to open a shop. Why rely on ferrying?
But Rongniang had always been carefree, and her current husband, Shang Dalang, was the same. His family owned ten meager acres, enough to get by. His married sister even sent money to help renovate their home. Rongniang spent most of her time helping her mother-in-law with chores. Though not wealthy, she was content.
"We didn’t use it all. There’s still over fifty strings saved for my son’s education," Rongniang explained.
Still, Jin Niang cautioned her. "Sister, when you first separated from Feng Sheng, I told you something. Now, I’ll say it again. Though Shang Dalang treats you well, and his family is kind, if something were to happen to him, you must stand on your own..."
Even if your choice is reliable, what if that support is gone?
But these words angered Rongniang. She glared at Jin Niang. "I don’t have your capabilities. Now that I’ve found Shang Dalang, we live peacefully. Does that offend you? Must you wish misfortune upon me? Your husband may be an official, but if he ever schemes against you, do you really think you’d fare better than me?"
She felt fine until Jin Niang’s reminders—as if her happiness was undeserved because she lacked ability. Weren’t most women content with tending to their husbands and children? Why was she any different?
Jin Niang suddenly recalled a saying: "Whenever you feel like criticizing others, remember that not everyone in the world has had the advantages you've had."
She understood in her heart that Rongniang was merely running away—she didn’t dare seek revenge against Feng Sheng, nor did she dare think about the future. She was content to drift along, day by day. But that was her life to live. Who was Jin Niang to demand that others must act the same way she would?
"Elder Sister, I was wrong," Jin Niang said. She had tried to advise her before, but from now on, she would say no more.
Seeing Jin Niang like this, Rongniang couldn’t stay angry either. Jin Niang then took out a ten-strings-worth banknote from her purse and handed it to her. "Elder Sister, I haven’t met your little one yet. Consider this my gift to him."
It was a custom in Anlu Prefecture for relatives to give money when meeting a newborn.
Rongniang stared at the money in her hand with a bitter smile. This was likely meant to sever the bond between sisters—a clear message. And she knew well enough to take the hint.
