Spring had arrived, and Jin Niang had washed and stored away all the fur garments. The fur coats for Sister Jun and Brother Ning were made slightly larger, ensuring they could be worn for another two or three years without issue.
The heavy quilts were taken apart for washing, while the lighter ones were freshly stuffed. The household bustled with activity.
Around this time, Jin Niang also sent the new maid assigned to Sister Jun to the kitchen to learn culinary skills. By the time Sister Jun married, she would have Jiao Xing, skilled in needlework, another maid proficient in cooking, and Steward Fan, who managed the estate—forming a complete support team.
But while her parents prepared these arrangements, it would ultimately be up to Sister Jun herself to manage these people.
Xi Qiu and Steward Fan married in spring, settling in a house next to Liu Dou'er's. However, as Steward Fan had to assist in managing the estate, he only returned home every few days. Xi Qiu had already tied up her hair, now overseeing the two maids in Sister Jun's quarters and growing ever more attentive to the girl.
Meanwhile, a new registrar arrived at the county office. Jiang Xian had previously mentioned the new registrar was in his forties, but he turned out to be fifty—though still not considered old. As the saying went, "At thirty, one is old for the classics; at fifty, one is young for the imperial exams." He brought his elderly wife and son to take up his post.
Jin Niang first had Juxiang prepare a box of rose-flavored pastries, then added three baskets of fish and shrimp, a pair of pig's trotters, and two bolts of colorful silk as gifts.
She wasn't offering anything excessively lavish—Madam Wen had prepared similar gifts, and it wouldn't do to outshine her.
The new registrar's wife, Madam He, was also in her fifties. Her family was quite refined in their manners, reciprocating with a bolt of crabapple-red tortoiseshell-patterned fabric, a length of fine silk, half a lamb, two boxes of pastries, and three boxes of fresh fruit.
Ying, who was sewing shoe soles below, remarked, "Madam, the He family has only one son—a student at the Imperial Academy in Nanjing. I heard his wife passed away a few years ago, so their household is quite peaceful."
The Nanjing Imperial Academy wasn't in present-day Nanjing (Jiangsu) but in Shangqiu, Henan, while the current Nanjing was then called Jiangning Prefecture.
"That's just as well," Jin Niang said, relieved.
As customary, Madam Wen hosted a welcoming banquet for the He family, which Jin Niang attended. Later, she invited Madam He for a meal, and the two finally had a chance to converse.
Seeing Jin Niang dressed in fine silk, adorned with pearls and jade, and carrying herself with grace, Madam He took an immediate liking to her. After a round of wine, impressed by Jin Niang's cultured speech and the well-mannered children who came to pay respects—looking like golden boys and jade girls—Madam He hastily produced gifts for them.
Jin Niang smiled. "How could we impose on your generosity?"
But Madam He insisted, and Jin Niang had Sister Jun and Brother Ning thank her before excusing themselves.
Madam He, now advanced in years, spent her days at home burning incense and praying, never stirring trouble. She settled quietly into life at the county office. Jin Niang had grown accustomed to such comings and goings, but Madam Wen sighed, "Of the three people I knew when I first arrived, only you remain here now."
Madam Tian had followed her husband to Liyang, and Madam Bao's whereabouts were unknown. No wonder people said officials flowed like water while clerks stayed like iron. But Jin Niang, who had once been troubled by such partings, had come to accept them. She consoled Madam Wen: "Life's regrets are as endless as the eastward-flowing river."
This line, from Li Yu's poem "Silent Joy: Spring's Crimson Blossoms Fall," spoke of life's inevitable sorrows. Jin Niang used it to remind Madam Wen that regrets were part of life—better to let go of the irretrievable past and cherish each day.
Seeing Madam Wen nod, Jin Niang felt quite pleased.
Little did she know that after she left, Madam Wen turned to her attendant, Mother Sheng, and asked, "What did the county captain's wife mean by that?"
Mother Sheng shook her head—she had no idea.
Spring also brought illnesses. Prefect Shen's son developed a cough, and Madam Shen decided to visit a temple to pray for his recovery. The wives of subordinate officials accompanied her. Jin Niang, her hair styled in a lily bun with a plain silk headscarf and a golden comb at the front, joined them. She noticed that many of these women weren't necessarily devout Buddhists—but when human efforts fell short, they turned to divine intervention.
Moreover, women often held themselves to higher moral standards. What men did without a second thought, women would reflect upon—another reason so many sought solace in prayer.
Though Jin Niang didn't truly believe, she copied scriptures with apparent piety.
When those above set an example, those below follow.
Though Prefect Shen was upright, his family wasn't entirely the same. Sister Jun had noticed several strings of prayer beads on Shen Wujie, gifts from subordinates.
After a vegetarian meal and a session of Buddhist teachings, Jin Niang yawned her way home. Ying, nodding off like a pecking chick, jolted awake at a bump in the road and said, "Madam, those Buddhist teachings are too profound—I hardly understood any of it."
Jin Niang laughed. "That's normal. If someone your age could grasp such wisdom, it would be remarkable indeed."
Upon returning, she learned that Gu Qingru had visited but left when no one was home.
Since no message was left, Jin Niang assumed it was just a casual call. The next day, she sent someone to Magpie Lane to inquire. Gu Qingru said she had only come to chat, so Jin Niang decided to invite her over again before the Cold Food Festival.
Ruyan also came by. Jin Niang had long supported her until she began working with Jiang Liujie, earning enough from medical consultations to support herself.
This time, Ruyan brought a crystal goose, two roast ducks, four fresh chickens, and six longevity peaches as birthday gifts for Jiang Xian, who was turning twenty-five. Though not a major milestone, as the county's third-ranking official, it was still noteworthy.
Ruyan was always discreet—she only spoke to Jiang Xian when he was out on investigations and never overstepped. Even gifts were sent through Jin Niang.
Jin Niang smiled. "Thank you for going to such trouble."
"Madam, you jest," Ruyan said. "Had you not saved me, I would have long been buried in the river—there would be no me today."
But Jin Niang waved it off. One shouldn't cling to the expectation of gratitude, for human nature was fickle. "I've forgotten much of the past," she said. "You needn't dwell on it either. Just focus on your work with Jiang Liujie, and let me know if you ever need anything."
This left Ruyan flustered. "Why are you so kind to me?"
Understanding her unease, Jin Niang explained, "Well, I need a female physician—it wouldn't do to rely on outsiders. And since my husband is a county captain, if he ever becomes a magistrate elsewhere, having our own coroner would be even better, wouldn't it?"
"Ah, I see," Ruyan sighed in relief. "I will definitely help you."
However, Jin Niang added, "If you can establish yourself as a female physician and eventually open a shop with a few apprentices and assistants, you won’t have to worry about making a living." She could only offer guidance based on the examples around her, such as Lou Siniang, who lived comfortably on consultation fees.
Upon hearing this, Ruyan felt even more motivated about her future.
Meanwhile, Jin Niang was contemplating her own business plans. If she were to transport silk for official assignments, she couldn’t immediately find a silk shop upon disembarking, nor could she take it directly to the government office. In such cases, storing the goods in a "tafang" (warehouse) would be ideal.
While "didian" (inns) accommodated traveling merchants, "tafang" served as storage facilities, especially in Wu County, located along the Jianghuai region, where water transport was convenient and well-developed. Many shipped grain directly to the capital and stored their goods in these warehouses, paying rent and safekeeping fees.
Though she might not afford one in Bianjing, Pingjiang was a crucial port along the Grand Canal, making it a feasible option for her.
When she first shared her idea of opening a "tafang," she discussed it with Gu Qingru, who clapped her hands and laughed, "That’s an excellent idea! Why not consult a broker?"
"I can’t summon brokers to the county office—it might encourage people to curry favor, which could be problematic," Jin Niang explained, wary of receiving gifts that might come with strings attached.
Understanding her concerns, Gu Qingru invited a few trusted brokers over. Jin Niang learned that these warehouses were typically built near waterways, and many wealthy families had built their fortunes through them, even expanding into teahouses and integrated inns.
However, even the smallest warehouses reportedly had hundreds of rooms, leaving Jin Niang feeling daunted. Still, if a warehouse was out of reach, an inn might be a viable alternative.
Inns not only provided lodging but also functioned as storage spaces. They could be set up near post stations, making them convenient for merchants transporting goods. Even rural locations weren’t entirely unsuitable.
She decided not to involve Gu Qingru further, fearing her friend might offer financial help, which could complicate their friendship. Business dealings between friends often led to messy entanglements.
Considering that her husband, Jiang Xian, might be reassigned in June, she prepared a detailed business plan to ensure they could establish the inn wherever he was posted—unless it was an extremely remote area.
"If we open one outside this region, we could brand it as a 'Jiangnan Inn,'" Jin Niang mused. "We could even invite Sister Hua to help—she’s skilled at making Jiangnan-style dishes. Her three sons and daughter might join too, especially since she doesn’t get along well with her mother-in-law. Merchants transporting goods would likely prefer staying with us."
She planned to categorize the rooms into "official suites," "modest rooms," and "dormitory-style lodgings." If family members weren’t available to manage it, they could hire a broker.
While a large inn was beyond her means, a smaller one was entirely feasible.
Jiang Xian admired his wife’s resourcefulness. Her ideas weren’t baseless—she had meticulously planned everything, down to the layout of each room type.
"Darling, I think Wu County is wealthier than other places. If we’re doing this, let’s establish it here. Leave finding a location to me—I know every corner of this county from patrolling it daily," he said.
Jin Niang smiled. "Alright, but won’t you be busy with the imperial inspector’s arrival?"
Jiang Xian smirked. "A capable man handles many tasks."
Soon, he found two potential sites. One was a shop near the western city gate, previously a notorious "black inn" that operated normally by day but robbed and murdered lone merchants at night. Jiang Xian had caught the culprits red-handed, and some had already been executed.
The second location was thirty li outside the city, where an old butcher and his two sons had run another black inn—not only robbing travelers but also selling human flesh.
This reminded Jin Niang of the infamous "human meat buns" from Water Margin, and she was shocked such places truly existed.
"Why are they all black inns?" she asked, slightly unnerved.
Jiang Xian, though usually afraid of ghosts, was unfazed. "But they’re cheap! The owners are desperate to sell after the murders."
The price did tempt Jin Niang, and she wasn’t superstitious about the site’s dark history. "Since you’re an official here, you have informants helping you. But if we’re reassigned, they’ll lose their jobs. Why not pick a couple of reliable ones to manage the inn?"
After inspecting both locations, Jin Niang preferred the one near the city gate—a three-story building with five front-facing rooms, six side chambers, living quarters, a kitchen, and an added single-story annex.
Originally priced at 560 taels, it was now available for just 200.
Instead of paying in silver, Jin Niang bartered tea leaves she had accumulated over the years as a matchmaker. The seller, planning to trade the tea elsewhere, accepted the offer, and she secured the deed.
After acquiring the property, she had it thoroughly cleaned, repainted, and rebranded.
The upper floors featured well-lit, elegant rooms with bamboo beds, tea stoves, vases, and incense burners. Even the lower-tier rooms were kept clean and mosquito-free with mugwort. The annex was repurposed as a warehouse, with water vats placed at each door as fire prevention.
Guards were stationed at the entrance to ensure safety, especially at night, when guests had to present identification.
Jiang Xian recommended Yao Fang as the manager—a former soldier with both strength and social skills. His sixteen-year-old son, who had some schooling, assisted with bookkeeping. Sister Hua and her family also joined: her two older sons as laborers, and her daughter helping in the kitchen.
By Qingming Festival, the inn officially opened. Jin Niang hung her exquisitely embroidered "Purple-Robed Guanyin" in the main hall for protection, its divine aura seeming to bless the place. A "Lost and Found" box was placed at the counter, and night patrols ensured guest safety.
Premium guests received complimentary breakfast, while Yao Fang earned two strings of cash monthly, and Sister Hua three mace. Others were on a trial basis—lazy or dishonest workers would be dismissed.
The daily rate for the best rooms is one hundred wen per day, located in the front building. The mid-tier rooms cost sixty wen per day, while the shared dormitory is much cheaper at twenty wen per person, with fifteen people sharing one room. As for the storage rooms, there are seven in total, each rented for ten guan per month—this is where the real profit lies.
This doesn’t even include the cost of meals. If all rooms and storage spaces are fully occupied, the annual income could reach over seven hundred guan. Even at half capacity, the earnings would still amount to three hundred guan a year.
Initially, people were wary of this place, but upon entering, they were greeted by a statue of the Purple-Robed Guanyin. Skeptical yet willing to stay a night, they found it surprisingly safe, and gradually, business began to thrive.
Jin Niang was deep in thought, placing the employment contracts for Yao Fang and Hua Sao’s family into a small box.
Just then, Ying arrived and said with a smile, "Madam, I’m back."
It turned out Jin Niang had sent Ying to deliver two pots of peonies to Gu Qingru. She had bought over a dozen peonies from Yangzhou and placed most in the inn’s guest rooms for decoration, but these two particularly beautiful ones were gifted to Gu Qingru.
Ying continued, "Madam, Lady Gu asked me about the He family’s young master. It seems the He family has sent a matchmaker to propose marriage."
"What? How did the two of them even meet?" Jin Niang asked, surprised.
Ying chuckled. "It was that day when you accompanied Madam Shen to the temple. Lady Gu came looking for you but missed you. Unexpectedly, she crossed paths with the He young master instead."
The He young master had been widowed for several years, with only a concubine attending to him. More importantly, his mother, Madam He, was known to be a kind woman.
"What did you tell her?" Jin Niang inquired.
Ying replied, "I simply told her the truth. It seemed Lady Gu was about seventy or eighty percent willing."
Jin Niang nodded. "Since the He young master took the initiative to propose, it shows sincerity. The He family is well-off, and as the only son, he wouldn’t have to deal with troublesome sisters-in-law."
Over the past year or two, many matchmakers had come knocking, but Jin Niang had Jiang Xian investigate a few candidates, none of whom were satisfactory—some were frivolous fortune-seekers, while others lied about their intentions to take concubines. A woman like Gu Qingru, though in her thirties, was still talented and beautiful. Jin Niang hoped she’d marry someone worthy.
As for the He young master’s reputation, both Magistrate He and Madam He were somewhat dissatisfied. Madam He even sought Jin Niang’s opinion, to which Jin Niang spoke highly of Gu Qingru: "Lady Gu is both talented and beautiful. She owns two large clothing shops and an embroidery workshop in Pingjiang, not to mention her substantial savings. But these are just material things—what truly matters is her character. When her former husband’s family, the Shangs, fell into trouble, she didn’t hesitate to help financially. Even after they schemed to force her out, she never spoke ill of them."
Madam He smiled reservedly. "How did you come to know Lady Gu?"
"It was over a decade ago," Jin Niang explained. "The court was recruiting skilled embroiderers, and we both ended up in the embroidery workshop. Lady Gu’s craftsmanship stood out, and she was appointed as the lead embroiderer by several noblewomen. I owe much of my own progress to her guidance."
Madam He had initially hoped her son would remarry an official’s daughter. Lady Gu was older, a merchant’s daughter, and divorced—hardly an ideal match. But after hearing Jin Niang’s words, she made up her mind.
Fate works in mysterious ways. You might search tirelessly for the right person, only to find them in a fleeting moment.
Gu Qingru asked Jin Niang to act as her bridal attendant, as both she and the He young master were remarrying, simplifying many of the customary rituals. Jin Niang gladly agreed.
She also shared her observations about Madam He with Gu Qingru: "She’s a dignified woman, reserved in speech, and spends much of her time in Buddhist devotion."
Gu Qingru listened attentively. "I owe this match to you, sister. If not for your encouragement to socialize, I’d never have met such a fortunate match."
"Don’t say that," Jin Niang demurred. "It’s your own talent and beauty that won his heart."
Blushing, Gu Qingru changed the subject. "How’s your inn business?"
"Not bad," Jin Niang replied. "At first, people were hesitant, advising against the location. But we took the risk, bought the place, and staffed it well. It’s near the city gate, so we’ll see how it goes."
The imperial inspector had arrived in Liangzhe Circuit, keeping Jiang Xian busy. His competence was undeniable—he knew Wu County and Pingjiang Commandery like the back of his hand. When searching for shop locations, he could instantly recall population details, difficult routes, troublesome areas, and governance challenges. Truly a capable official.
Beyond assisting the county magistrate, he also excelled in managing the county school, earning praise from the inspector during his visit.
Late one night, Jiang Xian finally returned home. Jin Niang poured him hot tea. "Why so late?"
"Had to make some final arrangements," he sighed. "Can’t let things fall apart just because the inspector’s here." Exhausted, he washed up with hot water prepared by Ziteng, then ate a light meal of congee and side dishes—much preferred over the heavily seasoned banquet food.
Jin Niang updated him about Gu Qingru’s engagement. "The betrothal gifts will be sent after the Dragon Boat Festival. I’ll attend the ceremony at the Gu family."
Jiang Xian smiled. "You’re the lucky charm here. Had she not befriended you, she’d never have met the He young master."
"Don’t give me credit," Jin Niang laughed. "This had nothing to do with me."
After the inspector departed, Jiang Xian relaxed and checked on the inn. Reporting back, he said business was decent.
Jin Niang shrugged. "At least we didn’t lose capital. Now I understand how this inn trade works."
Jiang Xian calculated silently: even with modest earnings of two to three hundred guan from the inn, plus three hundred from the estate, and another thousand from the capital, their annual income totaled fifteen to sixteen hundred guan—more than enough.
After some deliberation between the couple, Jin Niang brought a pouch of silver to Gu Qingru the next day: "Sister, since this is your first time opening a shop, I’ll invest under my name. If I refused, I fear you wouldn’t feel at ease. Now that you’ve found a good match, and my husband’s transfer order is likely to arrive next month, I’ll return this to you."
Gu Qingru finally understood Jin Niang’s thoughtful gesture and was deeply moved. "In this lifetime, having a friend like you, Jin Niang, is truly worth it," she said.
After the Dragon Boat Festival, Jin Niang acted as Gu Qingru’s bridal attendant, and in return, Gu Qingru gifted her a jeweled hairpiece, two sets of pearl-embroidered robes, two brocade gowns, four bolts of golden gauze, two rolls of red eight-treasure patterned brocade, two more of sheer silk, two sets of jewelry, two boxes of dried fruits, two boxes of fresh fruits, two jugs of wine, six silver ingots, and a load of tea cakes.
Jiang Xian, standing nearby, watched as his wife carefully stored the gifts. He knew she always followed the customary bridal attendant’s gift list, accepting only what was appropriate to avoid any appearance of impropriety.
Time flowed swiftly, and by the sixth month, Jiang Xian’s transfer order arrived—he was promoted to the position of prefectural judge of Daming Prefecture.
