The fire at the dye house had burned down the pillar that had supported Madam Ji’s heart for decades. Maintaining widowhood wasn’t easy, supporting the family wasn’t easy, and raising children was even harder. The most difficult was seeing the pride hidden deep in her bloodline shattered by brutal reality.
In this world, scholars were the easiest to starve to death. As they say, a gentleman doesn’t drink from a stolen spring, and the upright don’t accept charity food. Madam Ji couldn’t bring herself to bend her spine to the Zhao family.
That fire seemed to burn in her heart, making her fear facing the consequences of leaving her daughter with the Zhao family. She didn’t know how long she had been unconscious, unable to distinguish reality from dreams.
She vaguely saw her daughter standing before her as if nothing had happened. She was so relieved she fell into a peaceful sleep. But in her deep dreams, she saw Madam Zhao leading a group of servants blocking her way to her daughter, forcibly dragging her daughter away. That heart-wrenching pain made Madam Ji reach out to her daughter, trying to pull her from the servants’ hands.
“Mother, I’m here. I’m fine.” Ji Yingying held her mother’s flailing hand, pressing her face against it. “Mother, please get better soon.”
Madam Ji heard this in her hazy state. Afraid she had misheard, she used all her strength to force open her heavy eyelids.
No lamps were lit in the room. Dim light filtered through the white hemp paper windows. She saw the familiar green gauze curtains. The curtain hook was inlaid with a butterfly. After long use, the colored paint on the butterfly’s wings had become mottled and peeling. This was her room, her bed. Madam Ji slowly moved her gaze to see a delicate, beautiful face.
It was her Yingying. No, she must still be dreaming. The Zhao family was so ruthless they would even burn down a warehouse – how could they possibly let her Yingying return home?
“Matron Li, has there been a letter from Chang’an?” Madam Ji closed her eyes, using her strength to speak.
Her voice was so faint it nearly made Ji Yingying and Matron Li jump.
“Mother, you’re awake?! Matron, Mother is awake!” Ji Yingying wiped tears of joy from her eyes.
A spoonful of ginseng soup was fed into Madam Ji’s mouth. Bitter then sweet. The ginseng’s fragrance lingered long between her lips and teeth. After a moment, Madam Ji’s spirit gradually improved, and her eyelids no longer felt heavy. She opened her eyes again.
“Mother, the physician said once you wake up, with rest, you’ll get better.”
Ji Yingying’s smile was radiant, crystalline tears still on her cheeks.
Madam Ji stared at her in a daze, slowly raising her hand. The skin is as delicate as a baby’s, the warm touch. Her tears flowed unbidden: “Yingying, is it you?!”
“Mother! I’m sorry I worried you.” Ji Yingying buried her face in her mother’s hand. She felt grateful to Master Sheng; if not for his hundred-year ginseng, her mother might not have awakened.
Madam Ji’s sense of reality grew stronger. She patted Ji Yingying’s back forcefully, crying: “If anything had happened to you, I couldn’t face your father!”
After mother and daughter cried together, Madam Ji’s depression gradually dispersed, and her body felt much lighter.
After she drank her medicine and fell asleep again, Ji Yingying and the matrons finally breathed sighs of relief together.
Leaving the room, Ji Yingying saw her brother entering the courtyard. She quickly went to meet him, supporting Ji Yaoting as they sat in the hall.
“Mother just fell asleep. The physician said once she wakes up, with rest she’ll get better. It’s cold now, brother should rest for a few more days. I can handle things here.” Ji Yingying cleaned her hands and brewed tea, creating a faint flower pattern resembling the character for “good,” and then handed the cup to her brother.
Being young, after taking medicine and sleeping for a day and night, Ji Yaoting’s fever had subsided.
He looked at his sister’s bright face, feeling deeply guilty: “It’s all my fault, making you work so hard.”
“Nonsense.” Ji Yingying urged her brother to drink the tea, lowering her voice to say, “Second Brother Zhu has been a great help. We exchanged our shop’s silk thread stock for dyes from his dye house. With the New Year approaching, many families will be making new clothes. I’ve dyed thirty bolts of fine ramie cloth, and the first batch can come out of the dye vats today. We can’t let Mother know. Matron Ji has forbidden anyone to speak of it, brother, remember to help me keep it secret.”
With the New Year approaching, she had dyed several shades of red – scarlet, pink, peach, silver-red, and bright red – and used concave blocks to print auspicious patterns like magpies, plum blossoms, and the character for “fortune.” Selling these in Yizhou City should earn a good sum of silver.
Eager to make money, Ji Yaoting set aside his tea: “Since Mother is still sleeping, let’s go check the dye house.”
The siblings went to the dye house in high spirits.
Due to recent heavy rains, the dye vats have been moved indoors. Knowing the importance of this batch of cloth, Matron Ji had personally locked them up and kept the key. Seeing the two arrive, she took out the key to unlock the door: “This cursed weather, if only it would clear up for a few days.”
After dyeing, the cloth needed to be dried in the air, washed in the river to remove excess dye, and then dried again before it was finished.
Ji Yingying smiled: “No matter, we’ll just set up more drying frames.”
The three entered the dye house, and Ji Yingying pointed to four vats in front: “Matron Ji, call someone to take out the cloth from these vats.”
Strong servant women lifted large bamboo baskets from the wall, using wooden poles to scoop the cloth from the vats into the baskets to drain.
The cloth pieces had bundles of oiled paper relief blocks tied to them. Ji Yingying tied up her sleeves and untied one. This piece was dyed pink, and after removing the tied paper, a scarlet plum blossom pattern appeared.
Ordinary pattern dyeing usually had dark backgrounds with light flowers. Areas covered by oiled paper blocks wouldn’t take the dye, creating white flowers on blue or red backgrounds. Even with multiple dye baths, colors were added in layers. There was rarely a gradual color gradation method.
Ji Yingying’s pink background with scattered red plum blossoms had flowers darker than the background cloth, and in a scattered pattern. Ji Yaoting was amazed. He couldn’t understand how, when dyeing the areas covered by the relief blocks, other areas could be prevented from taking dye. Unless each flower was dyed individually, which was clearly impractical: “That’s too much work.”
Ji Yingying showed him the removed relief block, whispering in his ear: “There’s another layer of dye under the oiled paper. The flowers are essentially dyed an extra time, so naturally the color is deeper.”
Ji Yaoting immediately understood and felt this batch of cloth should fetch a good price.
Directing the servants to set up drying frames, they hung the drained cloth from four vats to dry. Having work to do and successfully dyed cloth meant the dye house could continue. Looking at the bright cloth, everyone’s faces showed long-absent smiles.
“Young Miss!” Matron Wu came in, saying worriedly, “The Madam is awake. She’s asking about where the ginseng came from.”
Ji Yaoting wondered aloud: “Master Sheng sold it to us cheaply. Why is Mother concerned about this?”
Ji Yingying had signed the contract but kept it from her brother to avoid worrying him. She had Ling’er keep the contract paper in her dowry chest, so her mother shouldn’t know about it: “Mother must think we couldn’t afford hundred-year ginseng. I’ll go tell her, so she won’t worry.”