Meanwhile, at the Nie family home, Mother Nie stewed in anger long after Qiuyue had departed. She felt Mother Song had shown her a shameful lack of decency.
“Always pretending to be so modest and kind,” she spat. “Yet she lets a mere girlflaunt gold and silver right in our faces.”
She considered, in a fit of spite, demanding her husband make her own daughter gold hairpins. But Old Madam Nie took most of their money every month. How could they afford such a luxury? Her frustration turned into resentment toward her husband. Not for his work ethic—he worked hard enough—but for his utter helplessness when it came to his own parents, allowing them to act out with impunity.
Nie Qinghe finished her last few stitches and smiled. “Just you wait, Mother. I’ll take a break today, then start looking for work tomorrow. I’ll earn the finest jewelry for all of us. I’ll make you a wealthy lady, dripping in gold and silver.”
Seeing her daughter’s thoughtfulness, Mother Nie’s anger subsided. Everyone had their own lot in life. Compared to the donkey drivers and laborers outside the city gate, her own situation was far easier. Why compare themselves to the County Magistrate’s household?
As they talked, Nie Qinghe finished the shoes. Noting that the sun was still high in the sky, she told her mother she was going to deliver them to her older brother.
“Your brother will be back in a few days,” Mother Nie said, her voice softening. “You don’t need to make the trip.”
Her brother had slipped away to visit home twice while she was sick, and now that she had recovered, he wouldn’t be back for a few days.
“This is the first pair of shoes I’ve ever made for him,” Nie Qinghe said with a smile. “I want to get them to him early.”
Ever since her mother had passed away, she had finally started living for herself, no longer suppressing her own nature. Whether it was fangirling over idols, being a total slacker, choosing a secluded life, or making videos and streaming, she did it all because she wanted to. No one ever forced her into anything.
Now that she was determined to make a good life for herself in this world, she wanted to actively get to know her family. Her parents didn’t favor boys over girls, her older brother didn’t bully her, her younger brother wasn’t a spoiled brat, and her sisters all got along. She felt truly grateful.
Seeing that her daughter wasn’t tired or feeling unwell, Mother Nie let her go. As long as she wasn’t looking for Song Qingyuan, she could do whatever she pleased.
Nie Qinghe slipped her cloth shoes into her shoulder bag, tucked her coin purse—containing five or six coins—into her robes, and stepped out the door.
She walked briskly onto the main street, heading west along East Main Street.
Jintai City wasn’t actually that large. The East-West Main Street ran from the east gate to the west gate, while the North-South Main Street was slightly offset, never intersecting it. Besides these two main thoroughfares, there were two other horizontal and vertical roads that spanned the city. The longest walk across town was only about two kilometers, so everyone got around on foot.
As she took in the bustling streets, Nie Qinghe’s mind was already racing with ideas.
Between what she’d seen over the past few days, her observations today, and the original owner’s memories, she had formed a clear picture of the city.
Jintai City served as the southern gateway to the Capital. Its strategic military importance was matched by its role as a vital transport hub along the Grand Canal. Outside the city walls, many porters and traveling merchants made their living by the day. Inside, the city was a hive of activity, with numerous inns, warehouses, carriage rentals, horse markets, and several bustling street markets, making life incredibly convenient for its residents.
The intersection of East-West Main Street and North-South Main Street formed the city’s commercial heart. Shops lined both sides of the road, offering every imaginable good. This central hub was the most prosperous area, teeming with a constant flow of people.
The city’s most prominent establishments—the grand Yuelai Inn, Xiankelai Restaurant, Liu’s Jewelry Pavilion, Huang’s Cosmetics Pavilion, and the Embroidered Apparel Pavilion—were all located in this district.
Most of these businesses followed a standard layout: a storefront of three to five bays in the front, with workshops, warehouses, and staff quarters in the courtyard behind.
Liu’s Jewelry and the Embroidered Apparel Pavilion were the largest shops in the area. Their storefronts were magnificently decorated, and their sprawling workshops stretched back into the courtyards.
Nie Qinghe headed straight for the backyard of Liu’s Jewelry Workshop. A large gate for carriages marked the side entrance, with a smaller pedestrian gate beside it.
The backyard was spacious, divided into several sections for different tasks. A separate courtyard was set aside for preparing raw materials—processing large timbers and rough stones there kept the noise away from the main areas.
Her father worked here as a master craftsman, and her brother was an apprentice. Nie Qinghe had visited many times, and the workers all knew her well.
“Qinghe!” A young apprentice named Chen Zijian ran over. “Master Nie is busy in the workshop. He can’t be disturbed.”
Nie Qinghe knew the rules. The row of rooms at the back housed the primary workshops, strictly off-limits to anyone who wasn’t supposed to be there. They stored precious gold, silver, and jade—losing even a tiny piece was a disaster no one could afford. Moreover, the work was confidential, so visitors were never allowed inside.
She smiled. “I’m here to see my brother.”
“Dali’s in the small courtyard helping with the saw,” Chen Zijian said. “I’ll show you where.”
He eagerly led the way.
As she stepped into the small courtyard, Nie Qinghe spotted her brother. He was shirtless and barefoot, his back arched as he worked a large saw with another man.
His muscular arms rippled with every pull of the saw. Sweat glistened on his back like oil, reflecting the sunlight in a display of raw power.
Nie Dali’s eyes lit up when he saw her. He instinctively sped up his work, prompting the young man sawing with him to tell him to slow down.
“Little Seedling!” Nie Dali called out. “Go wait for me in the hallway. I’ll be right there.”
He didn’t want his sister breathing in the scent of sweaty men, nor did he like the way they stared at her.
Chen Zijian eagerly led Nie Qinghe to the front hallway to drink tea. He even brought her some pumpkin seeds to snack on, warmly asking if she wanted any candy.
Soon, Nie Dali hurried in, throwing on his outer shirt as he ran. He held a small cloth bundle, which he pressed into Qinghe’s hands the moment he reached her. “This is for you.”
Qinghe squeezed the coarse fabric, feeling something hard inside. She unwrapped it to find a wooden hairpin. Its design was unique—carved in the shape of a rice seedling, with a full, heavy grain ear dangling from the center.
Though the carving was still a bit rough, it was creative and well-executed. The wood had been sanded smooth and polished to a soft glow.
“It’s beautiful!” she exclaimed, her face lighting up. “I love it! Thank you, Big Brother!”
Nie Dali gave her a bashful, honest grin. “You’re fourteen now. It’s about time you had a hairpin.”
Even though Nie Dali and their father worked here, they didn’t earn enough to buy silver hairpins, let alone gold ones. Everyone just used scraps of boxwood and other fine wood they’d saved to carve hairpins for their families.
Nie Qinghe brought out the shoes she’d made for him.
Nie Dali was so shocked he hesitated to even take them. “This… for me? No, I can’t. I don’t need cloth shoes. I’m fine in my straw sandals.”
These shoes were too beautiful—they looked like something for a scholar. His sister had already worked so hard making shoes for Song Qingyuan; he couldn’t bear for her to have made a pair for him too.
Nie Qinghe urged him to try them on.
But Nie Dali refused, worried his dirty feet would ruin them. “I’ll try them on when I get home,” he said.
“Big Brother,” she insisted, her voice tender but firm, “I’ll make you new shoes every year. You’ll never have to go without them again.”
Nie Dali’s lips trembled. Tears welled in his eyes, but he still shook his head. “You shouldn’t be making shoes for me. You need to rest more. Mother says needlework ruins your eyesight—hers is already failing.”
He had more work to do and couldn’t linger. After a few more words, he urged Nie Qinghe to head home so he could get back to his duties.
Nie Qinghe took her leave of Chen Zijian and retraced her steps.
As she neared the gate, she noticed a maid and a page staring at her from the shadows. When she caught their eyes, the maid broke into a candid smile. “Miss Nie, you are truly beautiful.”
Nie Qinghe’s beauty was a pure, refined kind—a striking grace that seemed untouched by any earthly coarseness.
“Thank you for the compliment,” Nie Qinghe replied, smiling warmly. “You have a lovely smile yourself.”
With a slight nod, she turned and walked away.
Watching her graceful figure recede, the page spun around and addressed the lilac bushes with excitement. “Young Master, Miss Nie is truly stunning!”
Liu Hui stepped out from behind the blossoms. “Do not speak so casually of a lady.”
The maid covered her mouth, giggling. “Young Master, you’re delighted, aren’t you? I heard the Master say he wants to give you—”
Liu Hui’s pale face flushed crimson. “Frivolous! Be silent. Miss Nie is already childhood-betrothed to the Song family.”
“Young Master,” the page replied, “you knew about that, did you?”
Liu Hui’s face flushed crimson as his servants teased him. With an annoyed huff, he turned and marched away.
The maid scurried after him on tiptoe, whispering urgently, “Young Master, my cousin told me the Song family is dissatisfied with Miss Nie’s background. They’re likely looking for a way to break off the engagement.”
Liu Hui stopped dead in his tracks. He spun around, his gaze fixed on her. “How did your cousin know that?”
The maid grinned mischievously. “Did you forget, Young Master? My uncle is the head shopkeeper for the Zhao family. My cousin works for the madam, serving at her beck and call.”
In Jintai City, many servants moved their entire families to the service of a great household, trading their freedom for protection and a full belly. Local families who couldn’t afford their children often sold the clever ones to wealthy homes. Such children could eat and sleep in comfort while learning the ways of the world. If the master was merciful, they might eventually be freed to marry; otherwise, they would remain as household-born servants, securing a lifelong livelihood.
The desperate methods the poor used to survive when they lost everything were a grim hallmark of the times.
Liu Hui pressed the maid for every detail she knew. While she couldn’t offer much substance, he couldn’t help but think: The Songs have risen in status. Song Qingyuan is young, talented, and destined for greatness. They probably really do look down on the Nie family now.
A flash of joy crossed his face, quickly followed by a surge of indignation and then a lingering melancholy.
Miss Nie had no say in her own marriage. She was being tossed about like a pawn, he thought. Am I any different?
His attentive maid, however, thought he was overthinking things. As a concubine-born son, he was blocked from the family’s major businesses by his stepmother. She only wanted him to marry a girl from a minor family and live a quiet life. Wasn’t Miss Nie perfect for that?
Liu Hui sighed. If he truly wanted to marry her, his stepmother would surely throw a wrench in the works. She’d be delighted as long as he didn’t get his way.
Meanwhile, Nie Qinghe left the jewelry workshop and walked down the main street toward the Embroidered Apparel Pavilion. Along the way, she observed the customers entering and leaving the high-end shops. Both men and women were dressed in opulent robes and wore expensive, exquisite hairpieces. The small fraction of wealthy people truly did support the majority of the luxury goods industry, just as one would expect.
Just then, the distant thunder of hooves drew closer. The crowd on the street parted instinctively, making way for a party of riders.
In this era, only government officials or sons of the nobility rode horses through the streets. No ordinary person would dare cross them.
Nie Qinghe’s gaze was immediately drawn to the chestnut horse leading the group. It was a magnificent beast, its coat gleaming like a burning flame in the sunlight. Its rider wore robes of flowing white gauze, a masterpiece in its own right. Under the sun, the fabric rippled with every movement, the woven cloud patterns seeming to come alive as they shifted and flowed. It was a sight one couldn’t look away from.
What exquisite craftsmanship!
Her professional instincts flared. She was tempted to grab the fabric, to see how such a feat was achieved. This had to be the lost art of brocaded thin gauze. How could silk this sheer and transparent hold such intricate, flowing patterns?
Drawn by curiosity, she unconsciously took two steps forward to get a closer look.
At that moment, the chestnut horse abruptly halted its trot. It tilted its head toward her, bringing its nose close for a curious sniff.
“Haha! Even the horse knows a beauty when he sees one! He’s flirting with the young lady!” The passersby on both sides burst into laughter.
The rider was a young man with raven hair, skin as pale as snow, and a stern, distant expression. He gave the chestnut’s belly a sharp tap with his heels, commanding it forward. The horse reluctantly obeyed, but it let out a series of loud, impatient snorts.
He Yu turned his head toward Nie Qinghe. He found the young woman staring at him with wide, moist eyes and a look of sheer admiration, her lips pursed as if she were about to whistle.
She didn’t disappoint him.
“Wow!” she breathed. What a stunningly handsome face!
In that moment, Nie Qinghe’s past life as a fangirl took over. She let her gaze roam freely, taking in every inch of the man—from the top of his head to the tips of his boots. A top-tier beauty, if ever I saw one. Small face, pointed chin, a graceful neckline and straight back, broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and those long legs!
Too bad his expression was as cold and unyielding as a jade carving.
He Yu, feeling visually assaulted by the girl’s scrutiny, went silent.
Most people averted their eyes in the presence of a nobleman on a magnificent steed, too timid to even glance at him. Yet here she was, shamelessly studying him from head to toe.