The cotton seeds fell one by one into the dust; the spinning wheel turned round and round, drawing out the thread.

Under the eaves ran a row of workshop rooms, and through the large square windows one could clearly see that each room housed a different stage of the process.

In the first room, a master craftsman sat before the seed-removing roller gin, pressing the foot pedals to turn two iron rollers that rolled and squeezed the cotton bolls. He fed the bolls evenly into the gap between the rollers with both hands, and the cotton fibers, passing through the narrow space between the rollers, fell into the cloth bag below — this was the cleaned cotton.

This was the Jurong-style roller gin: compared to the old style, it saved both labor and time — the old type required three people working in coordination just to turn it.

After that came the bow to fluff and loosen the cotton, making it easy to roll into cotton rovings.

The third step was drawing and twisting the rovings — the fibers, under tension, were wound and drawn thin into fine yarn. A craftsman turned a large bamboo wheel with one hand, while with the other he drew the roving out with controlled tension. This was a skill born of experience: pull too hard and the thread would break; too loosely and the yarn would be thick and uneven, affecting the cloth to be woven later.

Cotton warp threads were different from silk — to make the warp fine, strong, and smooth, once the yarn was spun, it still had to be dipped into a paste basin and sized with starch, then left to dry.

Watching in the row of workshop rooms, one could see how tufts of cotton were transformed step by step by hand into skeins of yarn — enough to make one marvel at how dearly-bought was the warmth of the clothes on one’s back.

Pei Ruozhu took out a letter written in Shaojin’s hand, and said: “It was Second Brother’s letter that helped me understand.” She began to read the contents: “In Songjiang Prefecture, the workshops in the city are numerous, each attending to its own responsibility yet interconnected with the others — remove any one of them, and you cannot produce cloth…”

“In Jiading County, the workshops south of the city specialize in spinning yarn. Two liang of cotton yarn makes one tube; every twenty zhang is wound into one skein, and the price varies according to coarseness or fineness.”

“Within the city, the Wu Family’s Third House is most skilled at spinning warp yarn — their warp, once sized, is fine and exceptionally strong. Weavers and households throughout the city compete to buy from them.”

“In Baoshan County, most households make their living by weaving cloth. Long after nightfall, when the lanes have emptied, the sound of looms can still be heard. Every household weaves, day and night without cease — by dusk the cloth is finished, and by the morning market it is exchanged for money to cover a family’s daily grain.”

“In Zhujing and Fengjing, many dyeing houses have been established. Indigo dyes sky-blue under the moonlight and night-white; red dyes the color of deep crimson in spring dawn-peach; plain undyed cloth goes in, colored cloth comes out — and then it is sold throughout the Jiangnan region.”

Pei Shaohuai listened. The fact that Third Sister had chosen these particular passages to read aloud showed that she had truly grasped the key point within them. And that Shaojin had gone to Songjiang Prefecture to gather cotton spinning tools and had noticed these details within the city — this showed that the journey had not been wasted on him, and that he had learned and reflected through what he observed.

The people of Da Qing largely adhered to the practice of men tilling and women weaving. A large family formed one household: grain came from the fields, cloth from the loom, and whether it was grain or cloth, the whole family worked together from start to finish.

Starting with silkworms, ending with bolts of silk. Starting with the spring plowing, ending with the autumn harvest.

The family revolved within such a cycle, day after day, seeking three meals a day.

Songjiang Prefecture, with its focus on the cotton weaving industry, had slowly begun to develop a division of labor: those who spun did not weave; those who wove did not dye. Each kept to their own trade, specializing in a single craft. Over time, they naturally worked faster and better.

Greater efficiency, and better quality as well.

Pei Shaohuai smiled: “It seems Third Sister has grasped the essential truth — all that remains is to put it into practice.” He then asked: “What are Third Sister’s plans going forward?”

Pei Ruozhu straightened up a little where she sat, supporting her belly, and replied: “There’s no losing in this venture — I want to start early, and not do things in a small way.” She intended to do it on a large scale from the very beginning.

She patted her belly and continued: “By the time spring comes, not only will the manor of the Earl of Nanping’s household be planting cotton — I also want to encourage the farming households in the surrounding counties to plant cotton as well. I imagine that as long as a small portion of the payment is made in advance, there will always be those willing to plant a few acres on their family’s hillside land.”

By then, her body would have recovered its ease of movement as well.

Pei Ruozhu’s ambitions were bold indeed.

Qiao Yunsheng chimed in with a teasing remark: “There isn’t much else I can help with, but this business of growing cotton — that I can certainly try. After all,” he winked, “it was through growing melons and delivering melons that I won our Zhu Jie’er’s heart. I’ve got something of a way with crops.”

Yang Shiyue sat beside Pei Shaohuai, listening attentively.

Since marrying into the Jingchuan Earl’s household, Yang Shiyue had always sensed that the Pei family’s residence was different from others — though she could never quite put her finger on how. It was only today, hearing Zhu Jie’er’s plans, that she finally understood. The Pei family residence was unlike other households because the people within it were unbound.

Third Sister was able to think boldly and act boldly — not because she had married into the Nanping Earldom and had no one to answer to, free of all constraints, but because this was simply who she was: a person not confined within the walls of the inner quarters.

By the same token, Fourth Sister was the same: not bound by the world’s judgments about what was respectable or base, noble or common — she immersed herself in the study of medicine and pharmacology, finding her own contentment.

And her mother-in-law Lin Shi was no simple woman either: the household’s affairs were managed with perfect order, and she also ran shops and businesses between the north and south.

The longer Yang Shiyue was part of the Pei family, the more different things she saw.

After talking over the matter of the cotton weaving, Pei Ruozhu turned to her younger brother and asked: “I heard from Yunsheng that something rather major has happened with the Prince of Anping’s household — that the eldest son’s family is to be sent away to Ganzhou?”

Pei Shaohuai nodded. Seeing that there were no outsiders nearby, he gave a rough account of the cause and course of the whole affair.

Pei Ruozhu could not allow herself too much excitement or agitation, and so spoke of the gratifying news in a level tone: “It may not be a direct reversal of what was done to us — but hearing this news, it is still deeply satisfying. One hopes they’ll keep a lower profile in Ganzhou.” For in Ganzhou there was no one to shield their misdeeds as there had been within the imperial capital.

Many years had passed, yet she had never forgotten the fright that had made her ill for days on end.

Such things would never happen again. Such fear would never return.

Deep in autumn, the nights fell early. After the candles were blown out, the young couple lay on their bed speaking softly into each other’s ears.

They lay on their sides facing each other. Yang Shiyue curled up in her husband’s arms. Through the thin cloth, she could feel warmth emanating toward her, as though she were lying beside a small brazier. In the darkness, she held her husband’s right palm and could trace the lines of his hand, and the thin calluses on his fingers left from years of writing.

“Husband.”

“Mm.”

Yang Shiyue said: “Spinning cotton into cloth, stuffing the fluff into quilts — if cotton can be grown in the Northern Metropolitan Region, the common people will be spared some of the bitter cold in winter… Third Sister is doing something remarkable. I admire her very much.”

A brief pause, and then she continued: “She is the most bold and magnanimous woman I have ever met.”

Pei Shaohuai’s other arm drew her closer — the two of them pressed a little nearer together. He said: “Once this venture succeeds, it will be far more than just keeping warm in winter.”

“What else?”

Yang Shiyue turned over to face him, close enough now to feel her husband’s breath on her forehead.

“Xunzi said, ‘Without wealth, the people’s livelihoods cannot be nurtured; without education, the people’s natures cannot be refined’… There must always be sufficiency first, before anything else can follow.” Pei Shaohuai replied, and then explained gently: “The women of Da Qing need a chance to step outside, to have a skill to rely on. Perhaps, little by little, it can begin to change certain things.”

Yang Shiyue fell into thought. And indeed — the most unbound person in this household was the one lying beside her.

After a while she asked: “Then what can I do to help?” The feminine accomplishments and domestic skills a well-bred young lady learned seemed useless here — none of it would be of any help.

From the very first sentence Yang Shiyue had spoken, Pei Shaohuai had already heard the small ripple of feeling beneath her words — admiration for Third Sister, and beneath it, a trace of envy and wistfulness.

“You can start from what you know best.” Pei Shaohuai said in a warm and gentle voice. “You are skilled in needlework and familiar with the weave patterns of all kinds of fabric — that is precisely where you can begin. Third Sister will grow cotton and spin it into yarn, but someone still needs to weave it, yes?”

“Weaving cloth?”

“Not quite — it’s a matter of how to weave cloth more quickly.”

Yang Shiyue began counting on her fingers, murmuring to herself: “The backstrap loom is the simplest, but produces the coarsest cloth. The multi-heddle multi-treadle loom can weave patterns, but it is very slow…”

In the end she ran out of fingers to count on, and said: “Tomorrow I’ll have someone gather all the different kinds of weaving looms together, so I can compare them properly.”

Something like a spark of purpose seemed to ignite within her.

Listening to his wife’s stream of thoughts, Pei Shaohuai murmured acknowledgments as he breathed in the faint fragrance from her hair. The warmth lulled him along, and before he knew it, he was asleep.

“Husband?”

Only the soft, steady sound of breathing answered. Yang Shiyue tucked herself back into her husband’s arms and, warmed by the same gentle heat, gradually drifted off to sleep as well.

In preparation for the spring cotton planting ahead, the Nanping Earl’s household had grown busy.

On this day, women began arriving one after another at the Nanping Earl’s household, each bearing an invitation card. They ranged from their mid-thirties to their fifties. It was because they recognized the name on the invitation that they had come — but when they arrived and saw that it was an Earl’s household, they hesitated again on the doorstep.

In the end, with the spirit of “well, I’ve come this far,” they all knocked and had someone announce their presence.

In the great hall, when more than twenty women caught sight of familiar faces they had not seen in years, they embraced one another in tears. Whatever grudges and contests there had been among them in the palace — none of that seemed worth speaking of now.

Pei Ruozhu appeared in plain clothes, her belly prominent, and said: “Dear sisters, it has been a long time.”

The women all moved to bow in greeting to the Countess. Pei Ruozhu quickly signaled to her attendant nannies to stop them, and said: “Let us be as we were when we were all in the palace together — still call one another sisters.”

These women had all once been female officials of the palace, with household registrations in Shuntian Prefecture. Pei Ruozhu had invited them all here.

Most of them Pei Ruozhu had known from her years in the palace, and they had been leaving one by one over these past few years.

Pei Ruozhu said: “It should have been me who came to call on each of you in person — but as my condition makes that difficult, I have had to trouble you all to make the journey here instead. I hope you will forgive me.”

The eldest among the female officials asked: “We wonder, my lady, what matter has brought us here today?” It was surely more than a reunion visit.

Pei Ruozhu spoke plainly as well: “I am going to establish a cotton cloth weaving workshop, and I wish to invite all of you to come and help me.”

In Da Qing, finding a literate, numerate woman with practical skills was no easy matter. These were women who had been selected by the court and then tempered through years of service in the palace — all the more rare. No woman lacking ability could have held her footing in the imperial palace for so many years.

At these words, everyone began to murmur and discuss amongst themselves. None of them had expected Pei Ruozhu to be inviting them to work.

Someone asked: “What is cotton cloth?” This was the central question.

Pei Ruozhu had someone bring out a bolt of purple cloth for everyone to examine closely, and explained: “As you can see — this cloth is soft and warm to the touch, dyes evenly and beautifully, and is far more comfortable and insulating than hemp or ramie cloth… Most importantly, its cost and the labor required to produce it is not much more than for hemp cloth.”

Before they had given their answers, Pei Ruozhu could only show them this much and say this much.

But even a single bolt of cloth was more than persuasive enough.

Yet the women in the room showed expressions of reluctance and uncertainty — only three or four of them, who trusted Pei Ruozhu’s character implicitly, accepted without hesitation, without asking about conditions or terms, and immediately stepped to Pei Ruozhu’s side.

It was no wonder the rest showed difficulty — in Da Qing, a woman was born to follow: first her father, then her husband, then her son. If none of these, then her brothers, her nephews. Even if their hearts were willing and they longed to throw themselves into something meaningful alongside Pei Ruozhu, how could they get their families to agree to let them go out and work for others in such a public manner?

It was a matter of the family’s dignity and reputation.

Moreover, establishing a workshop and a business on such a scale had always been the domain of men. Pei Ruozhu was a woman — and even if she had shown ability during those years in the palace, was that alone truly enough to make such a venture succeed?

Pei Ruozhu had anticipated this, and had already made inquiries into the circumstances of each of these women since they had left the palace. Among them: some had been matched in marriage, given as secondary wives to older, low-ranking officials — past the age of bearing children, they could only raise other people’s sons and daughters; some had followed their fathers’ and brothers’ arrangements and been forced to marry widowers in the countryside; some had remained at home, their palace stipends handed over to be managed by an elder brother, yet still living at the mercy of a sister-in-law’s and nephew’s expressions and moods… All in all, none of them were faring well.

She said: “All of you sisters have spent years studying and learning to read, and have come away from the palace with a lifetime of hard-won skills. And yet, now that you are finally free, are you truly content to live the rest of your lives under another’s roof, at another’s mercy? The pride and bearing you carried within the palace all those years — has it been worn away so completely in just this short a time?”

Pei Ruozhu had her own private motivations. But she also spoke from genuine feeling.