High-end customers demanded high-end packaging to reflect their status and prestige. If a jar cost a mere hundred wen, they would either ignore it or insist on paying two or three liang silver—far more than an ordinary person could afford—just to savor the superiority of their social standing.
The budget-conscious crowd, however, sought value for money, saving wherever possible.
Still, those who frequented Liu’s Jewelry Shop were never truly poor. They were either merchants, master artisans, or men with government posts in the Capital. Someone like Mother Nie, with her meager means, would never have dared to step foot in such a luxurious establishment. Thus, even these “budget” customers were relatively well-off.
“Bring your own containers for the cleansing ointment,” Nie Qinghe announced. “Under half a jin, it’s 53 wen per liang. Buy half a jin or more, and it’s 52 wen. If you buy a full jin—ten liang—the price drops to 50 wen per liang.”
This was the principle of low margins and high volume.
Shopkeeper Lin nudged Qian Er. “This girl… her mind is incredibly sharp!”
The buyers didn’t want her to profit from the jars, nor did they want to buy in bulk. Yet she had cleverly incentivized them to buy more. It was a brilliant tactic.
Nie Qinghe assigned Laishun to guide the women to Nie Dali and Chen Zijian to have their ointment packaged. She then turned her attention to the other women waiting to be groomed and dressed.
She began by attending to the women who had made appointments. They were all eager to spend fifteen coppers on a proper makeover, whether they were visiting their parents’ homes, visiting relatives, or attending some other gathering.
The others, who hadn’t booked in advance, watched the transformations of Madams Fang and Zhao with growing interest. They couldn’t take their eyes off Nie Qinghe’s hands. It seemed she used very little makeup—certainly nothing that left the skin ghostly white or unnaturally flushed—yet the results were striking.
She worked with a tiny pair of scissors and a thin blade, meticulously trimming the stray hairs from the women’s eyelids and shaping their brows. Then, with a few deft strokes of a kohl brush, she brought their entire faces to life.
The women found eyebrow grooming far more difficult than facial hair removal. Some people simply shaved their brows off completely and redrew them, but that always looked frighteningly unnatural compared to Nie Qinghe’s effortless beauty.
Nie Qinghe also used an incredibly fine brush to apply a touch of makeup to the eyelids, making the eyes appear dark, bright, and spirited.
Madam Feng, convinced she had learned the technique just by watching, asked, “Miss Nie, may I use your small scissors?”
Nie Qinghe, busy with another client, replied, “It’s difficult to trim your own eyebrows with these scissors. You might accidentally cut yourself.”
Madam Feng refused to accept this. She had always been praised for her dexterity—how could she be less skilled than Nie Qinghe?
“Are you worried I’ll learn your trade and steal your business?” she teased. “Don’t worry, I won’t.”
If I’m too scared to use a razor, she thought, surely I can handle a pair of scissors.
Seeing that Nie Qinghe was too busy to pay her any mind, Madam Feng seized the small scissors and moved to another bronze mirror to trim her own brows.
She was a master of needlework and weaving, and her hairstyling was equally impressive. Watching Nie Qinghe work, she felt confident she could easily become a professional hair and makeup artist herself. Trimming a few stray hairs is nothing, she reasoned.
Imitating Nie Qinghe’s posture, she carefully mapped out the shape of her brow. Then, with a decisive snip, she aimed for the stray hairs on her eyelid.
The plan was perfect, the gesture confident. But as the blades closed, a faint snip echoed in the air.
Madam Feng stared into the mirror. A chunk of her eyebrow was gone.
What just happened?
The surrounding women gasped. One of them chuckled, “Easier said than done, isn’t it? It’s easy to talk big, but a whole different story when you actually try.”
Madam Feng was speechless. What am I supposed to do now?
The embarrassment was the least of her worries. Though she’d just been boasting, Nie Qinghe hadn’t mocked her at all. Instead, she’d simply kept working, leaving Madam Feng to stew in her own awkwardness.
Seeing Madam Feng’s face flush crimson with shame, Nie Qinghe leaned in to inspect the damage.
“It’s alright,” she said with a smile. “I’ll just reshape them for you.”
Her self-consciousness vanished, and Madam Feng hurriedly thanked Nie Qinghe, obediently waiting her turn in line.
Meanwhile, Madam Sun had finished her hair wash. Nie Qinghe gave her some instructions and suggested she try the new shampoo at home. If she liked it, she could return in a few days to pay.
But Madam Sun hesitated, looking troubled. “I might not be able to come back for another wash,” she murmured. “I’ll pay for this one now. And while I’m here… could you also do my makeup and style my hair? I’d like to see how it looks.”
She handed over a small piece of silver, then dried her hair with a towel, watching as Nie Qinghe began shaping Madam Feng’s eyebrows.
Madam Feng had a long face and a high brow arch, which only accentuated her features. Nie Qinghe carefully trimmed the arch, creating a flatter, straighter brow. The new shape shortened the appearance of her face and gave her a much softer, more gentle look.
The gathered women murmured their approval, each eager to have her own brows shaped.
Nie Qinghe gently kneaded her neck and glanced at the sky. “Forgive me, everyone, but it’s nearly noon. Let’s take a break and resume after lunch.”
The morning had been a whirlwind of activity—washing faces, applying makeup, styling hair, selling hairnets and cleansing ointments. Nie Qinghe was exhausted.
Only then did the women realize how much time had passed. They had spent the entire morning here, accomplishing nothing else. With a chorus of gasps, they hurried off to prepare their midday meals.
Madam Sun’s hair was still damp. Since piling it up directly against her scalp would be bad for her skin, Nie Qinghe loosely styled it into a vintage fallen-horse bun, resting just below her shoulders, before starting on her makeup.
Madam Sun was naturally beautiful, her demeanor quiet and composed. However, she seemed overly timid, her eyelids drooping as she avoided eye contact.
“Do you have any specific requests?” Nie Qinghe asked. “For example, a particular brow shape?”
Madam Sun stammered, asking Nie Qinghe to give her a look that would be “pleasing.”
Nie Qinghe pressed further, and the woman’s meaning became clear: she wanted a look that would appeal to both her husband and mother-in-law.
Really? Nie Qinghe thought, a hint of exasperation crossing her mind. Do a husband and a mother-in-law even share the same tastes?
If a woman dressed to please her partner, that was one thing. But shouldn’t men also dress to impress their partners? After all, everyone should put in a little effort to surprise and delight their spouse.
But this—pleasing a mother-in-law?
What kind of woman do mothers-in-law even like? Do they all have the same taste?
Nie Qinghe thought back to a neighbor from her past life. The woman wanted a daughter-in-law for her son who was obedient, good at keeping a home, and drama-free. She should be fair-skinned, of average height and weight, sweet-spoken, simple, and guileless. Lively, but not too rowdy. Quiet, but not antisocial. Not a gold-digger or overly vain, yet not so plain as to be considered a country bumpkin. Ideally, she should be a graduate of a top-tier university, her parents should have a pension, and she should have no brothers.
Heaven, Nie Qinghe thought. Who would a perfect woman like that even want with her son?
Without a word, Nie Qinghe resumed applying the makeup. She tailored the look to Madam Sun’s facial structure and temperament, creating a classically elegant style.
Just as she was putting the finishing touches on the look, an old woman burst into the room and swung her hand, aiming a slap right at Madam Sun’s face.
Madam Sun, who had been sitting as obediently as a primary school student, shrank like a frightened quail, too stunned to even dodge.
Nie Qinghe, still holding the silver hairpin she was about to insert, reacted instinctively. She raised her elbow to block the old woman’s blow.
The old woman’s hand slammed into Nie Qinghe’s hard elbow, and she let out a sharp yelp of pain.
From behind the counter, Second Manager Lin immediately ordered Laishun and the other assistants to pull the old woman away. “If you keep causing trouble, we’ll call the authorities!” he warned.
Old Madam Sun slapped her thigh and leaped to her feet, waving her arms wildly as she began to wail, “You’re all committing a sin! This is an outrage! They’ve turned a perfectly good daughter-in-law into a vixen! How can we live like this?”
After a few loud, dramatic sobs, she bounced again, pointing a finger at her daughter-in-law, Madam Sun the Second. “You little harlot! Instead of staying home to serve your mother-in-law and husband, you come out here and dress like a vixen! Who are you trying to seduce? I knew you had ulterior motives the moment you left the house, always looking for someone to flirt with…”
Madam Sun bowed her head, trembling in silence. Her mother-in-law had tormented her relentlessly since the day she married into the family. Today, she had only ventured out for some fresh air because Old Madam Sun was visiting her daughter and wouldn’t return until evening.
Seeing so many women buying cleansing ointment and getting their hair and makeup done, she had simply wanted to try it herself. She never expected her mother-in-law to descend upon her like a vengeful demon, scaring her out of her wits.
Nie Qinghe couldn’t listen to it anymore. She frowned, her voice turning cold and detached. “Old Madam, if you’re going to berate your daughter-in-law like this, what does that make your son? A cuckold?”
Old Madam Sun, furious at the interruption, glared fiercely at the younger woman. “You little… girl! What do you know? An unmarried maiden like you, just standing here for all to see—aren’t you ashamed? You’re a terrible influence on our daughter-in-law!”
Nie Qinghe narrowed her eyes. “Oh, please. I don’t even know where you live, let alone which way your door faces. You’re certainly full of yourself. Rest assured, even if you carried me away in a grand eight-person sedan chair, I wouldn’t dream of influencing you.”
So that’s why Madam Sun is so timid, Nie Qinghe thought.
Unable to get the upper hand, Old Madam Sun tried to lunge forward, but the shop assistant blocked her path. She spun away, darting into the street. There, she began slapping her thighs, hopping around and wailing that Liu’s was letting their eldest daughter show her face in public and corrupting her daughter-in-law.
Just then, a voice roared, “Make way! Clear the way!”
The crowd in the distance parted. A courier, a small flag marking a “Six Hundred Li Urgent” mission fluttering from his back, came galloping toward them on a fast horse.
The courier showed no intention of slowing down for the crowded street. Instead, he lashed his whip at several slow-moving pedestrians, snarling at them to get out of the way.
The rest of the crowd scrambled to clear a path, but Old Madam Sun remained rooted to the spot. She was too busy shrieking and gesticulating wildly, accusing Liu’s Shop and Nie Qinghe of corrupting her daughter-in-law.
The courier, emboldened by his six-hundred-li urgent mission, had been changing horses at every station without a moment’s rest, served by the finest attendants. How dare this old woman block his path?
Far from slowing down, he spurred his horse to a gallop, intending to trample her underhoof.
Old Madam Sun was a woman of means, her hair adorned with gold pins and her wrists heavy with gold and silver bangles. She wore a shimmering Hangzhou silk summer gown. As she danced about in a frenzy, the midday sun caught the jewelry, sending flashes of light—sharp as blades—stabbing at the horse.
The yellow-dappled steed reared, spooked by the glare. With a shrill neigh, it veered sharply to the side.
It charged straight toward the entrance of Liu’s Shop, where Nie Qinghe and Shopkeeper Lin were discussing their next move.
Seeing the horse hurtle toward them, Laishun screamed a warning.
“Get out of the way!”
Nie Qinghe immediately pulled Shopkeeper Lin out of the way. But the terrified horse charged right after them, threatening to pin them against the wall.
In a flash, a figure shot from the crowd. He tore off his white silk robe, flung it over the horse’s head, and leaped forward to seize the reins. With a powerful yank, he forced the animal’s head away.
The horse, still charging forward, was jerked to a dead halt by his sheer strength.
The crowd gaped. What incredible power!
The horse neighed in distress, struggling to break free, but the man remained unfazed. His left fist struck the animal’s neck like a gust of wind, sending it crashing to the ground.
The entire sequence had unfolded in the blink of an eye.
The courier on the horse had no time to react before he was thrown violently to the earth.
“You bastard!” the courier snarled, scrambling up and lashing his whip at the man who had bent down to check on the fallen horse.
He Yu’s sword-like brows furrowed in annoyance. He caught the whip’s end mid-swing, used the momentum to yank it from the courier’s grasp, and sent the handle flying back. It struck the courier’s face with a sharp crack, leaving a vivid red welt.