After the initial euphoria, the household returned to normal. The eldest uncle’s family had settled in, with Da Bomu Huang Shi having a maid by her side dedicated to cooking and serving the eldest sister, Miaoyun.
Originally, the family had no servants. Even though Xu Erpeng had money, he was merely a commoner and couldn’t properly hire servants. Now that Mei Shi was pregnant and he had become a Xiucai, he planned to hire a servant. However, when the Mei family found out, Grandpa Mei specially sent a servant, Feng Niang, over.
Feng Niang was around forty years old, skilled at brewing tea and cooking, and very efficient in her work.
With her arrival, Mei Shi could focus solely on resting during her pregnancy.
Miaozhen continued her studies as usual. She had been attending the Girls’ School run by Xiucai Yu on East Street for a year. During the Ming Dynasty, there was a folk saying: “Boys avoid even numbers, girls avoid odd numbers.” Thus, girls from families with even a little extra money typically started school at six years old. Even Miaolian from the third uncle’s family was due to start studying this year.
Xiucai Yu was renowned for his excellent calligraphy and proficiency in poetry, earning him a good reputation. The annual tuition at his school was approximately eighty wen to one dan of wheat, equivalent to about seven or eight qian of silver, which was quite affordable.
In the morning, Xu Erpeng accompanied Miaozhen to school. The father and daughter had breakfast at a fresh fish noodle shop along the street. Miaozhen loved the eel noodles there—thin, round silver-thread noodles in a flavorful broth, topped with crispy eel strips that added texture.
“Zhenzhen, what would you like for lunch?” Xu Erpeng asked his daughter.
Miaozhen thought for a moment. “Stir-fried water celery with shredded pork.”
“Alright, I’ll have Feng Niang prepare it and bring it to you at noon,” Xu Erpeng replied.
After breakfast, the two quickly arrived at Xiucai Yu’s place. Usually, Xiucai Yu remained seated in the main hall, but today he came out specifically to greet them. “Friend Xu, congratulations!”
During the Ming Dynasty, it was customary to refer to Students of the Imperial Academy as “friends” and Students as “young friends.” Previously, Xiucai Yu had addressed Xu Erpeng as “young friend,” but now he used “friend.”
For someone like Xu Erpeng, who had faced repeated setbacks yet maintained a positive attitude, this acknowledgment brought a sense of vindication, though he remained humble. After exchanging a few brief words with Xiucai Yu, he returned home to work on his Storybook.
Previously, his focus had been solely on his studies, and inspiration for his Storybook had run dry. Yet, even without inspiration, he had to write—pushing himself was the only way to improve.
After Xu Erpeng left, Miaozhen took her seat. The school had seven or eight female students, all daughters of local merchants. Relying solely on the Guan Gu from teaching wasn’t enough for Xiucai Yu to make a living. Fortunately, his wife was capable—she raised silkworms and wove Silk.
Xiucai Yu’s wife and her daughter produced about 120 bolts of Silk each year. One bolt was worth roughly one tael, totaling 120 taels annually. After deducting costs—over 70 taels for warp and weft threads, and about five taels for reeling, tools, and wax—the two could save 20 to 30 taels a year.
Thus, Xiucai Yu’s family managed to get by comfortably.
Miaozhen began contemplating her own future. In her previous life, she had only focused on studying—even her choice to study acupuncture and tuina in traditional Chinese medicine was decided by her parents. Here in ancient times, women from modest families like hers, without substantial dowries, needed a skill to rely on.
From what she observed, the most common paths for women were needlework and embroidery, like Xiucai Yu’s wife, or becoming a tutor in wealthy households, similar to her Da Bomu. Alternatively, she could pursue her original profession—medicine.
Nowadays, Sanwu women doctors have become more numerous. Although many scholar-officials condemn them, they remain indispensable. Some medical grannies, if recommended to the palace, gain a different status upon their return. While youth is favored in other professions, Woman Doctors become more esteemed and trusted with age.
However, contemporary society holds strong prejudices against medical and herbal grannies, with the “Three Aunts and Six Grannies” all being dismissed as unrefined.
Well, let’s take one step at a time.
Last year, they studied the “Three Character Classic”, “Hundred Family Surnames”, and “Thousand Character Classic” to first teach everyone literacy. This year, they’re learning the “Classic of Filial Piety”, “Elementary Education”, “Biographies of Exemplary Women”, and “Women’s Precepts”. After morning lessons, Feng Niang brings lunch—silver fish soup, stir-fried water celery with shredded pork, and scrambled eggs.
Such meals are quite lavish, thanks to her father’s increased income improving their livelihood.
Feng Niang eats with Miaozhen while discussing family matters: “Your Da Bomu returned to her family home and isn’t coming back. She even talked about renting a house outside. It was your brother-in-law who said your grandparents and third uncle are occupying their rooms, so they might as well each contribute ten taels for them to buy or rent elsewhere.”
“Did they give the money?” Miaozhen asked.
Feng Niang laughed: “They did, and they even redrafted the property division agreement.”
Miaozhen remarked: “Father truly handles matters fairly.”
“Exactly!”
When Miaozhen returned home after afternoon classes, her uncle and aunt had already moved out. Within days, word came that the uncle had been recommended by a friend to become a lecturer at an academy, specializing in teaching “Zuo’s Commentary on the Spring and Autumn Annals”, earning three taels monthly. The aunt was heard to be selling embroidery at her uncle’s silk wadding shop.
Xu Erpeng envied this: “Elder brother’s connections in Jinling are remarkable.”
“Husband, you’re not inferior either. Didn’t he still borrow money from you?” Mei Shi genuinely didn’t consider her husband lacking.
Xu Erpeng shook his head: “This money is saved for our future shop. How could I lend it out? Looking back now, the money I lent out in my youthful ignorance never returned.”
Since marriage, only one year’s earnings went entirely to his parents: fifty taels for his younger sister Simiang’s loom, thirty taels for his grandfather’s funeral expenses, and thirty-three taels secretly set aside for his sister’s future dowry.
With nearly one hundred taels accumulated, not only did his household status rise, but even if he opened a bookstore and lived separately someday, his family wouldn’t object.
After all, his parents had supported his education until he was nineteen.
Scholars fear being called unfilial most—every coin he contributed was documented and publicly known.
Mei Shi understood this well, as her husband had explained that their current contributions were visible, but future elder care expenses would be substantial. Thus, she never argued about these matters.
Xu Erpeng acted wisely—he told his parents the money came from private savings and loans, keeping Mei Shi unaware and urging his parents to stay silent. Consequently, Xu Laoguan and Xu Laotai felt guilty when hearing he repaid debts, sometimes giving Miaozhen a coin or two for snacks.
The children were largely unaware of the adults’ affairs. When Xu Siniang saw Miaozhen wearing a new set of clothes—a cherry-embroidered bright red silk jacket with symmetrical front panels, paired with a milk-white horse-face skirt featuring an embroidered kitten resting under a banana tree, and fresh silk flowers in her hair—she grew intensely envious.
She immediately clamored for Xu Laotai to have an identical set made for her. However, Xu Laoguan and his wife merely assisted in their youngest son’s shop, and even their meals were taken with the third branch of the family. The third branch’s daughter-in-law, Bao Shi, controlled the purse strings tightly. Since they only helped in the mornings, they received merely two or three coins for breakfast—how could there be spare money?
Thus, Xu Laotai said, “That was made by your sister-in-law for your niece. Her needlework is excellent—why not ask her to make some for you? As for the fabric, wasn’t it given to your second brother as a gift?”
Xu Siniang promptly went to find Mei Shi. Before Mei Shi could respond, Xu Erpeng refused: “Can’t you be more considerate? Your sister-in-law is pregnant—how could she make clothes for you?”
But Xu Siniang wanted to ask why she had made them for Miaozhen then.
Children always crave fairness, yet some things are inherently unequal. Miaozhen was Mei Shi’s own daughter—raising her was their responsibility, whereas Xu Siniang was not.
Their cousin Miaolian studied at a Xiucai’s household near their third uncle’s pastry shop. Having no prior foundation unlike Miaozhen—who had been taught some basics by her parents before formal schooling—their third uncle had to tutor his daughter after work each day, sometimes late into the night.
While writing his storybooks at night, Xu Erpeng could often hear his younger brother’s frustrated shouts.
Around five months into Mei Shi’s pregnancy, she suddenly lost her appetite and grew weak. Swelling began in her feet and gradually spread throughout her body. Deeply concerned, Xu Erpeng first summoned a locally-known medicine woman. Upon hearing the symptoms, the woman produced medicine from a gourd and prepared to perform acupuncture.
Miaozhen urgently told Xu Erpeng, “Father, please fetch a proper physician. Mother is with child—how can we allow random needling?”
Though her modern studies hadn’t focused on traditional Chinese gynecology, she had read numerous medical texts like “Fu Qingzhu’s Gynecology,” “Compendium of Acupuncture,” and “Complete Collection of Effective Prescriptions for Women.” Medical principles being universal, she sensed impropriety and immediately intervened.
Xu Erpeng also found the acupuncture too dubious, so he dismissed the woman and summoned a male physician instead. Being modest, Mei Shi felt too embarrassed to describe her true condition, leading the physician to diagnose her ailment as caused by damp pathogens.
Miaozhen grew increasingly anxious as she listened. When her father returned with the prescribed medicine and Feng Niang prepared to decoct it, she interjected, “Wait—let me examine this medicine first.”
Mei Shi, who always indulged her children, instructed Feng Niang to hand it over, cautioning, “Be careful not to spill it.”
Miaozhen opened the packet and sniffed the contents. “Mother,” she declared, “the prescription calls for white atractylodes, but they’ve substituted it with black atractylodes. White atractylodes stabilizes pregnancy, while black atractylodes induces abortion…”
“Impossible! Physician Sun is quite renowned.” Mei Shi sounded skeptical.
Remembering how her mother—like most women of this era—retained some superstitions, and recalling how Song Dynasty’s Zhang Xiaoniang had acquired “Unusual Formulas for Abscesses” from wandering healers, Miaozhen thought: why couldn’t she do the same?
Thus, she explained, “Last time when we visited Guiyuan Temple, an old mendicant asked for water. I gave him some, and somehow gained understanding of acupuncture techniques afterward—along with some knowledge of medicinal properties.”
Mei Shi was greatly astonished upon hearing this, and then thought about her own child having such fortune. Xu Erpeng, who was writing nearby, also overheard. Neither of the couple dismissed their daughter’s words as mere gossip. He first took the medicine to the Huimin Bureau for inspection, where it was indeed confirmed that atractylodes had been substituted for white atractylodes. Enraged, he stormed into the pharmacy and tore down the banner of the prescription.
Fortunately, there were many renowned physicians in Wuzhong, and through connections from Xu Erpeng’s bookshop, a highly famous doctor named Xue was recommended. This time, Mei Shi described all her uncomfortable symptoms in detail. The doctor then said, “This isn’t due to dampness evil constitution; it’s simply spleen and lung qi deficiency. Modified Buzhong Yiqi Decoction will suffice.”
A total of ten doses were prescribed. By the fourth dose, Mei Shi had nearly recovered, and by the tenth, she was completely well.
After this ordeal, Miaozhen, who had been hesitating about what to choose, immediately decided to study gynecology, at least to be able to treat her mother. It must be known that she had been transmigrated at birth and was almost entirely raised by Mei Shi alone. Her mother’s frail back had always carried her without ever complaining of the weight.
Nowadays, genuine female gynecologists are exceedingly rare. Perhaps this profession, like her father’s work of writing storybooks, could become a unique skill.