Only long after Chen Xingwei and Zhao Mingzhu had left did Zhao Mingyan and Wang Shuang finish their shopping at the cloth shop.
That day, they bought five bolts of fabric in total:
– Three bolts of the most ordinary cotton, five taels each—white, light blue, and pale pink.
– One bolt of goose‑yellow gauze, eight taels.
– One bolt of lake‑blue silk, the most expensive at twenty‑five taels.
In addition, they purchased a pile of ready‑made embroidered patches and decorative knots.
In these times, making a finished garment was a complicated process, requiring every stitch to be done by hand. If embroidery was added, the time was even longer. So larger cloth shops sold pre‑made patches and knots, helping women who managed household sewing to save steps and produce attractive clothing more quickly.
Zhao Mingyan chose many unique, stylish patches and knots that could be used directly. As for the shop’s embroidery patterns, she didn’t bother—she could draw them herself, and more finely and elegantly than what was sold. Later, when she wanted to embellish a garment, she would simply sketch the designs herself.
Altogether, the total came to thirty‑eight taels and three qian.
Wang Shuang bargained fiercely, showing the same bold, capable spirit she had honed in the countryside, and managed to shave off the three qian.
Normally, Manager Ding would never have agreed. Even if Wang Shuang were skilled at bargaining, at most he would have given her a 500-coin discount. Their shop’s profit margins weren’t high, and they rarely let customers cut the price.
But today, having learned Wang Shuang’s true identity—that she was the wife of the rising Grand Secretary Nan—he was eager to curry favor. So when she asked, he readily waived the remainder, effectively gifting her all the patches and knots, and even threw in an extra roll of cotton thread.
Wang Shuang was delighted to have saved so much. As they left, she credited all the success to Zhao Mingyan. And wasn’t it true? Without Zhao Mingyan, she wouldn’t have had such presence, such satisfaction, or forced that condescending shopkeeper to look at her differently.
“Mingyan, having you is truly wonderful. In my whole life, I’ve never enjoyed going out as much as today!” Wang Shuang said, carrying the five bolts of fabric home.
Zhao Mingyan looked at Wang Shuang, who carried herself with the strength of a man. “Sister Shuang, why don’t I help you carry some of it?”
“No need. This is nothing. Back home during New Year, I used to carry pigs myself!” Wang Shuang replied.
When they left the shop, Manager Ding had offered to personally deliver the fabrics to their home. But Wang Shuang waved him off, worried that rough hands might damage the cloth during handling. After all, one of the bolts was an extremely expensive silk!
She had never worn such costly fabric in her life. But since her Mingyan had said this one was good, then she would have it—she would carry it home herself!
Meanwhile, Zhao Mingyan only held a bundle of patches and decorative knots in her arms. “……”
Was this really reasonable? Wasn’t she supposed to be the concubine in the household?
Watching Wang Shuang stride forward with vigorous steps, Zhao Mingyan smiled faintly and quickened her pace to follow.
Soon, evening arrived.
After returning home with Wang Shuang, Zhao Mingyan began cutting the fabric and sewing clothes. She had chosen five bolts that day. The three cotton bolts were meant for undergarments and inner robes: the white and blue for herself and Wang Shuang, one set each.
The pink bolt was for the two young daughters of the household, who were away at school but still needed clothing prepared at home. She planned to make them each a set in advance.
The goose‑yellow gauze was intended for outer garments.
For those, Zhao Mingyan didn’t plan to use gauze entirely. She would make cotton robes as the base, with large sections like the lapels and panels decorated with the finer fabric.
That bolt of blue silk was meant to make a proper outer robe for Nan Yan.
Zhao Mingyan remembered well—Nan Yan’s clothing was far too plain. Among all the Second Rank officials of the court, Nan Yan dressed the most simply.
Of course, during grand court assemblies, everyone wore official robes, but those weren’t held every day.
In this era, court sessions were divided into three types:
– Grand Court (大朝) only three times a year—on New Year’s Day, the Winter Solstice, and the Emperor’s birthday.
– Monthly Court (望、朔朝): on the first and fifteenth of each month.
– Regular Court (常朝): convened as needed, usually when state affairs piled up and the Emperor wanted to resolve matters broadly.
So official robes weren’t worn often.
Instead, because of his role as Grand Secretary, Nan Yan frequently attended cabinet meetings—almost daily. He wore informal robes far more often. And in the cabinet, every other member was either wealthy or noble. Only Nan Yan stood out as the most modestly dressed. That was why, when choosing fabrics today, Zhao Mingyan had resolved to make him a proper, dignified robe.
That bolt of blue silk was meant to be cut into a proper outer robe for Nan Yan.
Buying five bolts in one go today—if used carefully—was just enough.
“Sister Shuang, you have the measurements for the two girls, don’t you?”
“I remember them all. I’ve already cut their fabric,” Wang Shuang replied, having swiftly cut the cloth for her daughters.
Zhao Mingyan then prepared to cut the expensive blue silk. “Let’s cut the lord’s as well.”
If they were cutting, it was best to do it all in one day.
But at her words, Wang Shuang stopped mid‑snip, looking blankly at Zhao Mingyan. “I don’t know Nan Yan’s measurements.”
Zhao Mingyan: “???”
“What about his clothes…?”
“They’re all several years old,” Wang Shuang said casually. “I’ve mentioned making him new ones before, but he refused, saying he already had enough. So I never asked again.”
Zhao Mingyan: “……”
So if he said he had clothes, she simply didn’t make any?
Wang Shuang had already guessed what Zhao Mingyan intended with that expensive fabric. No wonder she had chosen such a deep lake‑blue—it was meant for Nan Yan.
“If you want to make him something, then do it yourself. Tonight, go measure him.”
Zhao Mingyan: “……”
She couldn’t help but feel that this household’s mistress was unlike any other. Last night, Nan Yan had slept in her room, and Wang Shuang hadn’t said a word. Now she wanted to make clothes for him, and Wang Shuang still didn’t care—telling her to handle it herself. She seemed utterly unconcerned about Nan Yan and about Zhao Mingyan’s closeness with him. Was this really reasonable?
That night, Nan Yan returned very late.
In the small study, a single lamp glowed. When Nan Yan pushed open the door, he saw Zhao Mingyan inside, bent over her embroidery, working on the robe.