On the seventh day of the first month, not only did the court offices reopen their official seals and resume business, but some of the shops in the market also chose that day to reopen. Before the first month had ended — and especially before the fifteenth — many people were still in the midst of celebrating the New Year, and some merchants pushed their opening dates back. Xiang An, however, had made her way back before that day.
She was the current manager of the Xiang Family Sugar Workshop and the chief officer of the Wuzhou Official Sugar Workshop. On the afternoon of the sixth she brought her nephew Xiang Yu back to Wuzhou city, and the aunt and nephew pair stayed once again at the Prefectural Office.
Xiang An had assumed she was among those opening early. On the seventh she went to unlock the sugar workshop, only to discover that the Prefectural Office had not rested at all during the days she was away celebrating the New Year — they had even adjudicated a murder case. Xiang An came back and heard the whole story from Elder Sister Hu, and could not help but say with admiration: “The Prefect is truly busy — one could not become a prefect any other way.”
Xiang Yu, still a child, found everything fresh and interesting whether in Wuzhou or at home — hopping from place to place made every spot feel new. Seeing that Su Zhe and Lang Rui had not yet returned, he went off to play with Zhù Lian. He had brought a few small gifts from home, just right to give to this young friend.
Xiang An listened to Elder Sister Hu explain that Yang Workshop Owner was also caught up in it, and that the deceased had been a sugar workshop female worker, and so on. Xiang An became alert, thinking to herself: my own workshop also employs quite a few female workers — I must be even more careful.
Since Zhù Ying was still occupied with the case and had no other business, Xiang An only went to the study to see her briefly — to let her know she had returned — and then came back to organize what she needed to do the next day. Xiang Yu’s purpose in coming to the prefectural city was to begin learning commerce from an early age. The next day he too had to go to the sugar workshop with his aunt. The aunt and nephew turned in for the night quite early.
Early the next morning, after the aunt and nephew had eaten breakfast and were ready to head to the sugar workshop, Zhù Ying said: “Bring Lian along as well. Staying cooped up in the residence without meeting anyone from outside — what kind of education is that?”
Xiang Yu was quite pleased, and set off to the sugar workshop chatting and laughing with Zhù Lian.
The ceremony to mark reopening for business was not complicated, but it was lively — a string of shops and workshops all chose that same day to open. Some were beating gongs and drums, some setting off firecrackers, some playing a miscellaneous assortment of melodies. Zhù Lian and Xiang Yu stood side by side; both were a little excited in a small, childlike way. Xiang Yu had seen openings before, but never in a place this large. Zhù Lian had never been this close to one. In the midst of the cheering, both clapped their hands with enthusiasm.
Suddenly Zhù Lian noticed a few girls of similar age to themselves walking toward the sugar workshop and hurried to intercept them — the sugar workshop was a fairly important place, where food products were made, and you could not allow just anyone to wander in.
Xiang Yu turned around, found no one beside him, looked about, and then hurried after him in a few quick steps, asking: “What are you doing?”
Zhù Lian said: “Those people over there look like they are heading inside. I was going to stop them — the sugar workshop is not a place for play.”
Xiang Yu had spent time at the sugar workshop with his aunt and said quickly: “No need to stop them — they are apprentices here.”
“Oh?”
Xiang Yu said: “They came from the foundling home. There is nowhere else for them to go, so they are working here as apprentice workers.”
Zhù Lian watched the small female workers chatting and laughing among themselves, and thought: is this how they will spend their lives? What will become of them later?
He knew about apprentice workers — low wages, heavy workload, and whether you actually learned a trade depended entirely on your luck; the masters did not necessarily teach everyone.
Suddenly both their necks tightened — Xiang An had grabbed one in each hand and lifted them off the ground. Her expression was not good: “What are you two doing?” She lowered her voice and warned them not to go gawking at young girls.
Xiang Yu protested: “What? Sister, you are wronging innocent people.”
Zhù Lian also explained: “I thought they were outsiders who wanted to go in and have a look.”
Xiang An said: “Today there are many eyes around and things are complicated — do not wander far, and do not go off with anyone you do not know. In a moment I will take you to see how they work.”
Shortly after, she took the two small ones on a tour of the sugar workshop’s reopening arrangements. There were many orders to fill, and the workshop had been idle for a period — everything had to start again from scratch. Workers cleaned and swept, clearing out small bits of debris that had blown into the courtyard over the holiday, then began washing all the containers.
Before long, another person came to report, requesting workshop materials and money. The expenses of well-established and trustworthy households were generally put on account, with settlement monthly, semi-annually, or annually. The first transaction of the New Year was an exception — this one required cash, in the spirit of a lucky opening, so that cash would come into the pocket first, with no credit extended.
While they were in the midst of this, a fellow trade associate sent a card requesting that Xiang An come over to talk. Xiang An had assumed it was the customary gathering among fellow traders that happened after the opening of business each year. But looking at the card, she found that the date written on it was not today but the day after tomorrow, and the location was Yang Workshop Owner’s home. Xiang An asked the messenger: “Is there something specific this is about?”
The messenger said: “Our master has invited several workshop heads to discuss an important matter.”
Xiang An said: “Understood.” She took the card and pressed it against Xiang Yu’s forehead with her four fingers together, then flicked him away: “Shifty eyes.”
Xiang Yu made a face.
Xiang An said: “That will be all for today. In a little while, when they produce the first batch of sugar, we will take some back to the residence.”
——
The first day’s output was modest. Xiang An took a portion back to the residence for everyone to taste.
They ate in the courtyard of the two elders — the one commonly called “the West Courtyard.” Mealtime there was always lively, and with many people talking, all manner of conversation arose. The old couple were happiest at these moments.
That day Xiang An caught sight of the woman coroner Jiang Niangzi. Xiang An had initially felt some uncertainty about how to classify her: a perceptive person could see that she appeared to have some connection to the residence, yet she had no specific formal role. Afterward there had been a bit of gossip, which had driven her to move out and find other lodgings. Now Xiang An regarded her much as she regarded Qi Tai and Xiao Wu — something along the lines of a “disciple and retainer.” Only this particular disciple happened to be a woman.
What was strange was that the small Jiang Niangzi who was usually beside Jiang Niangzi was nowhere to be seen.
Zhang Xiangu also asked: “Hmm? Where is Xiao Ya?”
Zhù Ying said: “I sent her on an errand.”
“In this cold weather,” Zhang Xiangu muttered.
If she had asked one more question she would have had her answer — but she chose not to ask.
Zhù Ying had sent Jiang Zhou to Wang Family Village.
That morning she had made public the verdict in the case of spousal murder and arson in Wang Family Village. The criminals had been taken into custody pending the capital’s review and execution of the sentence. The aggrieved parties naturally had to be sent home. She summoned the aggrieved parties and Magistrate Guo — first, to have Magistrate Guo arrange some accommodations for them. Wang Family Village still had other houses; the people could be housed for the time being, a matter requiring coordination with South Peace County, or at least with the village headman and similar figures of Wang Family Village.
Second, she gave the aggrieved parties a task: “There is still one fugitive. If at any time you discover that he has returned, you may come to report at any time.” By her estimation, now that the case had been fully adjudicated, a criminal with sufficient nerve might come back. One slightly more cautious might wait until the others had been escorted away for execution — but that would not take long.
Getting the people of Li Family Village to inform on the fugitive would be very difficult: it was their own clan’s communal settlement, and under ordinary circumstances they would never betray a kinsman. Posting court attendants there specifically to watch, with an indefinite time frame, was also impractical. The people of Wang Family Village, having become enemies of Li Family Village, were the obvious choice — they had both the free time and the motivation.
This was ostensibly a task Wang Family Village would welcome willingly — yet Zhù Ying noticed that one person’s expression shifted almost imperceptibly. She did not let on, and asked: “Well then?”
The Wang Family Village people’s answers were uneven.
Zhù Ying sent them away and immediately called Jiang Zhou: “Take two people and quietly follow them to have a look.” Something was not right. In principle, holding the assailants to account was something the aggrieved parties should have been eager for — so that particular expression was worth investigating. Zhù Ying sent Jiang Zhou because she had been there before, and was more familiar with both the road and the village.
Jiang Zhou went back to her lodgings and changed out of her official’s uniform, putting on a dull gray set of men’s clothing instead. Her wardrobe was not large — half of it consisted of peculiar garments for disguise, most of them bought cheaply at secondhand shops. She combed her hair, pulled a battered hat down over her head, and became a perfectly unremarkable ordinary man.
She brought no one with her, setting out alone, following the Wang Family Village people at a careful, measured distance. The wind carried fragments of their conversation from afar — “it’s not up to us to go apprehend the criminal,” “that’s the court’s business,” “if we don’t report it, in a couple of years no one will bring it up again,” “is it buried properly?” “buried in the ditch,” “we’d better move it when we get back,” “everyone swear an oath on the way back — not a word to anyone,” “stop talking while we’re on the road.”
Jiang Zhou had participated in handling cases for several years now. Back when Zhù Ying was in Fulu County she had even trained the court attendants in some techniques; Jiang Zhou had taken careful notes and memorized everything. After arriving at the Southern Prefecture things had been exceedingly busy, so this had stopped. Since becoming prefect Zhù Ying was even busier — there had been no opportunity to take it up again. But Jiang Zhou was not discouraged. She pushed herself in every direction, taking every errand she could, and whenever she had a moment would squeeze in a question or two. She had figured out that Zhù Ying had a particularly favorable attitude toward people who were willing to learn, and had already picked up a fair number of useful methods.
Hearing the people up ahead say these things, she sensed something was wrong. She tried to hear more — but the people of Wang Family Village said only things that cursed Li for the rest of the journey.
As dusk fell, the Wang Family Village people entered the village. Jiang Zhou slipped in quietly behind them. Her martial skills, as Elder Sister Hu put it, were “barely above average” — years of physical labor had given her strength, and she had a small amount of technique. She had sufficient endurance, and could hold her own in a fight better than most ordinary women, though against a man she was more likely to escape than to win.
This was why Zhù Ying had told her to bring two helpers.
Jiang Zhou had blended in and was watching the commotion in the village — crying, laughing, and cursing all at once. The few who had gone through the court proceedings had brought back two strings of cash, which Zhù Ying had taken from her own purse to give them for temporary settling. Wang Shi’s father-in-law said: “The Prefect has already sentenced the Li family to compensate us — twenty strings of cash in total, plus thirty piculs of grain. South Peace County will collect and remit it. When we receive it, let us treat everyone to wine and celebrate together.”
Another wave of discussion went through the village. Someone proposed: “If they refuse to pay, we will go and take it ourselves!” This was met with ready agreement.
Then they began setting up a mourning shed and making preparations for the funeral rites.
Jiang Zhou calculated in her mind: the fire had burned down their houses at the same time destroying all their furniture, and had also destroyed much of the grain people had stored at home. With this compensation they could make it through to the spring wheat harvest and no one would starve — as long as they did not spend too much on the celebration of thanks to the village elders.
She waited a while longer, and seeing the village grow quiet and the sky turning dark, she did not dare wander around a stranger’s village at night, so she slipped back out. She did not go far. Recalling her previous visit, the “ditch” likely referred to a dry watercourse not far from the village. By the faint light of the barely-waxing seventh-night moon, she went first to examine the ditch.
She had not yet made anything out when she saw, at no great distance, several points of orange torchlight — Wang Shi’s father-in-law and a few others, carrying spades, had crept out of the village and were making their way in her direction.
Jiang Zhou hid her mule and pressed her body low to the ground, watching to see what they would do.
“This is the place — be quick! Dig it up and move it somewhere deeper! We do not want the rain to raise the water level and wash it out.”
They dug from the earth something human-shaped. Jiang Zhou bit hard on her lower lip. She heard the men conferring: “When the old man is buried tomorrow, put this one under the monument! The son of a dog — coming to our village to set fires and kill people — let him be dead and still carrying a stele!” “This creature deserved everything! They all deserved to die!” “Come — let us all swear an oath!”
So that was it. One of the criminals had not escaped at all — he had never gotten away, and had died right there.
Jiang Zhou thought: the Prefect was right — there was indeed something here.
To confirm her suspicions she waited a little longer. She saw them carry the body away, going deep into a grove outside the village. The grove was Wang Family Village’s burial ground.
It was too dark to travel at night. Jiang Zhou hunkered down in the ditch until the sky began to grow faintly light, then went into the grove. Dense cypress trees stood all around, and between them were mounds of earth. She could not tell one from another, but following the freshly turned soil she found one large pit, with a small pit in front of it. After the men had gone she picked up a hard dried branch from the grove floor and used it to dig — the earth had just been broken and was still relatively loose. It was not long before she hit something soft. She worked more carefully, scraping a little at a time, until she saw a gray-dusted face.
Jiang Zhou pressed the earth back and covered the face again, then slipped quietly out of the grove, found her mule, and rode at full gallop back to Wuzhou city.
——
Jiang Zhou entered the city the moment the gates opened. The soldier on guard leveled his spear: “Halt — who goes there…”
“It is me!”
“Little Jiang Niangzi? Good heavens — what happened to you?”
Jiang Zhou said: “I slipped and fell on the road while carrying out duties.” She had no time to spar with him, and went first to her lodgings. Sure enough, Xiao Jiang was still at home and had not gone to the court office.
Xiao Jiang took one look at her and was greatly alarmed: “Xiao Ya? What happened to you? What about the others?”
“Niangzi!” Jiang Zhou turned and bolted the door behind her. Then, in a rush of words, she explained everything — and at the end asked: “Niangzi, would it be all right if we did not tell the Prefect about the dead body?”
Xiao Jiang was even more shocked: “What?”
Jiang Zhou looked like a child who had done something wrong. Without even stopping to brush the dirt from her clothes, she said: “I just thought — Wang Niangzi’s situation was already too tragic. The Wang family has had it too hard. Those men deserved to die anyway — whether they died at the hands of the court or at the hands of Wang Family Village, what difference does it make? It was already settled that they were not innocent…”
Xiao Jiang thought for a moment, then said: “Nonsense! Putting aside whether you have a point — do you honestly think you can hide this from the Prefect? The way you look right now…” She said: “I have caused you to develop bad habits — you are getting too big for yourself! The Prefect saw in a glance that Wang Family Village had a story. You walk up in front of him looking like this — is that not walking straight into a trap? Do not try to deceive someone you cannot deceive! If the matter comes to light, how do you expect the Prefect to deal with you? Wait here — I will go sign in for attendance first, then come back and we will go to the residence together.”
“All right.”
Xiao Jiang went first to sign in for attendance, then came back, took Jiang Zhou with her, and the two entered the Prefectural Office through the side gate. After verifying their identities, they went directly to the signing room to report.
On the way, Jiang Zhou asked quietly: “Can we not plead for some leniency?”
Xiao Jiang let out a sigh: “Tell him everything you found, and see how he rules. If you want to plead for leniency, you cannot conceal anything.”
Jiang Zhou entered the signing room covered in mud and dirt. Zhù Ying said: “What happened to you?”
Jiang Zhou said: “I followed the Wang Family Village people to their village. The village was burned quite extensively — they are waiting for the grain from the Li family’s compensation payment before they can eat. They said that if the Li family did not pay, they would go and take it themselves. Afterward… I saw them, from a ditch at the side of the road, dig up — dig up a male corpse…”
Having spent years beside Xiao Jiang, she knew a fair amount about examining bodies, and she reported to Zhù Ying: “The burial was not deep. I had a look — there is a blunt force wound to the head, and the left leg is broken…” Her inference was that he had broken his leg while fleeing, had then been pursued, and had then been beaten to death. She was careful to hold back her own conclusion and let the Prefect draw what conclusions she liked — even concluding he had broken his leg and smashed his head on the ground and died was acceptable.
After she finished speaking, Zhù Ying said: “You have worked hard — go rest a moment and change your clothes. We will need you to make another trip shortly.”
Jiang Zhou said: “Prefect — I need to go and apprehend people? I…”
Xiao Jiang’s heart tightened. Though she found it very difficult to read Zhù Ying’s thoughts, that composed, unhurried manner of Zhù Ying’s most likely meant she had already pieced some things together. It was not difficult to infer — was it? Xiao Ya, this foolish girl, with that tone and those words — who could fail to hear the partiality in them? She said: “Prefect, Wang Family Village has —” The moment the words were out she half-regretted them, thinking Zhù Ying might not bother to explain.
This time she guessed wrong. Zhù Ying seemed to speak almost with irritation, saying: “Outrageous! An active arsonist — albeit an accessory — killed during the confusion of the moment is understandable given the circumstances. What did they need to conceal? By privately disposing of the body, they have committed an offense. You — go change quickly and take some people to recover the body.”
Xiao Jiang bowed to Zhù Ying, then urged Jiang Zhou: “Go and get ready!” She pushed Jiang Zhou out of the Prefectural Office and back home.
Once home and the door bolted, before even scolding her for the danger she had put herself in, Xiao Jiang said: “Go and get changed quickly, take some people, and tell them exactly what the Prefect just said! Tell them: this man had fled, and they discovered the body in the ditch after returning to their village…”
Jiang Zhou’s eyes lit up!
With no time to rest, she hastily took some people and rushed to Wang Family Village — and as it happened, caught them at just the right moment. Wang Family Village was in the middle of a funeral procession. Jiang Zhou, without hesitation, directed her people to retrieve the body. She asked: “You…”
A Wang Family Village villager said: “What is happening here?! Heavens — is that not someone from the Li family? This must be the ancestors showing a divine sign!”
They were pretending not to know!
Jiang Zhou stood rooted to the spot, more thunderstruck than she had been by digging up a grave in the middle of the night.
She said furiously: “Rubbish! Are you trying to fool a ghost?! I came here myself — do you think I would have been sent here without any evidence?”
The Wang Family Village villagers quickly changed their story: “It was not the ancestors showing a sign — but how did he come to break his leg and end up here? This must be their evil rewarded with evil.”
Well, that could just barely hold together.
Jiang Zhou brought the Wang Family Village headman back to the Prefectural Office, deeply regretting that she had stuck her nose in.
Killing someone outright was not murder — it was only a matter of concealing the body. The Wang Family Village people argued that at the time they had not realized he was dead, assuming he had escaped. Afterward, when they found him, they thought it best not to cause more trouble, and so had decided to bury him quietly.
Zhù Ying listened to them contradict themselves at every turn, until they finally said they “did not recognize him” — and if she let them go on any further it would be outright “contempt of court.”
Zhù Ying decisively sentenced the two ringleaders, returned the body to Li Family Village, sent formal notices to all relevant parties informing them that the criminal had been found dead, and added a supplementary record to the case file for the capital. The case of spousal murder and arson was at last completely concluded.
After pronouncing the verdict, Zhù Ying pressed two fingers to the bridge of her nose. Elder Sister Hu, seeing the gesture, assumed she was tired and thoughtfully refilled her hot tea.
——
Elder Sister Hu did not have extensive duties — primarily ensuring security, with some administrative tasks at the court office on the side. But she was not a formal clerk of the Prefectural Office — only someone Zhù Ying had privately hired as a helper. She refilled the tea, then stood to one side again and watched Zhù Ying tend to official business.
The day passed quickly. That evening Zhù Ying’s quarters required no one to stand night watch. Elder Sister Hu returned to her own lodgings with ease. At that point, the lamp in the neighboring Xiang family aunt-and-nephew’s room was still lit — Xiang An was still tutoring her nephew. Elder Sister Hu stopped to look in on her way past: “Still not asleep?”
Xiang An said: “I am teaching him — we will sleep soon.”
Seeing that the Xiang aunt and nephew were as usual, Elder Sister Hu returned to her room.
The next day was like every day before it — peaceful and settled, with always a small novelty or two. It was the most satisfying period of Elder Sister Hu’s life.
But that evening, before Elder Sister Hu had even gotten around to stopping by to check on her Junior Sister, Xiang An knocked at Elder Sister Hu’s door first.
Elder Sister Hu opened the courtyard gate: “Third Niangzi? You have something on your mind?”
The two had known each other for several years, and had the bond of shared martial lineage — away from home, they were closer than they might have been to others. Xiang An said: “There is something I do not know who else to say, and I would like to say it to Elder Sister.”
Elder Sister Hu said: “Come in and talk.”
The two of them sat just as they had during those years of itinerant trading — on Elder Sister Hu’s bed. Back then the conditions were nowhere near as comfortable as now; even Xiang An, as the owner’s daughter, had endured wind and rain on the road; for Elder Sister Hu it went without saying. Two young women had often shared a room just for the company.
Elder Sister Hu pulled up the quilt and covered both their legs: “Do not hurry, speak slowly.”
Xiang An said: “It all started on the seventh…”
She began with the matter of the young female workers and said she was worried. Elder Sister Hu said: “You are giving them a bowl of rice — that is wonderful.”
Xiang An said: “Keeping them on as apprentice workers forever is no solution either. What kind of skill is wrapping sugar paper? Can they do this for their whole lives? Even if they were willing, I would not be able to bear it. I have a mind to cultivate them properly, but I feel no confidence about how to go about it.”
Elder Sister Hu listened quietly. Xiang An had always been the type to have her own ideas. Elder Sister Hu knew that when this young niangzi spoke at length, she was mostly not seeking advice — she had identified Elder Sister Hu as someone who would keep secrets, and needed her to listen quietly for the most part, inserting the occasional “then what?” or “what will you do about it?” or a brief expression of agreement in line with what Xiang An was already saying. That was all she needed.
Xiang An continued: “I myself am a woman, and men have more or less certain biases against me. If I had several female supervisors on hand, things would be easier — easier to speak and to get things done.”
Elder Sister Hu said: “You manage the sugar workshop, and the Prefect has never said you cannot use female workers — just use them.”
“And yet cultivating women is itself a difficult problem. Even if she is your own born daughter, she does not necessarily remain in your household. Once she ‘marries,’ she belongs to someone else’s family. There are similar worries with cultivating men too, but a man does not easily become ‘spoken for’ — after a master-apprentice relationship is established and the bond is formalized, he can act independently while still owing respect to the master. A woman, even if she has taken a master, even after you have taught her everything you know and shown her how to run a sugar workshop — will give one snap of her fingers, become ‘someone else’s person,’ changing masters like that, and all your effort will have been wasted. You would have no one to cry to!”
“Unless there is a way to keep the female workers from leaving. Either by signing a bond of indenture so that they can be used for life. Or the most convenient approach, of course, would be… to take one as a wife, or take the woman as the master’s concubine. In short, make it impossible for her to leave, and then there is no need to worry about wasted effort.” Xiang An said this slowly.
“This…” Elder Sister Hu had seen a few similar cases before but had never thought to consider the reasoning behind them. So this is how you masters think!
Xiang An said: “But I do not dare say this to the Prefect.”
“Oh?”
Because she herself was a woman. The way one treated female workers was the same as teaching those of higher rank how to treat her.
Xiang An said: “The Prefect has always been gracious to women, but look at the women the Prefect actually employs: there is First Niangzi Zhu — who is even an official — but she is a sworn kin, a widow who remained chaste, with her late husband’s family having already established an heir, free of any divided loyalties. There is Jiang Niangzi — also made an official — who entered religious vows, and has not so much as a finger’s worth of contact with any man. Little Jiang Niangzi is entirely single-minded about catching criminals. Elder Sister Du has no thoughts of marrying either. All of them are without private entanglements and able to work wholeheartedly for the Prefect. The Prefect has simply never exerted mental energy in the direction of relations between men and women.”
This in turn made her think of herself. Xiang An had not made up her mind. While her father was alive, the family had had a vague intention of bringing in a husband to marry into the Xiang household, and she herself had not objected. Her father’s death had upset all plans. She had already taken on a great deal of responsibility and had her own opinions on many matters — but on the matter of marriage she had no settled plan.
This past New Year when she returned home, her mother and her sister-in-law had also raised the subject with her. The matter had arisen from the question of her second brother Xiang Le’s marriage — the family’s thinking was that they either find a capable and well-suited daughter-in-law whose character was well-known, or see if the Prefect could act as a matchmaker to find a suitable match in Wuzhou city.
Then the conversation had turned to Xiang An, and the family’s feeling was that she needed to settle down. Her father’s debt had been repaid, and although she had an obligation of gratitude to the Prefect, marriage need not interfere with gratitude. In the future when she had children, she could raise them to remember that debt too.
Xiang An privately felt she was in a state of “too high to reach, too low to settle for.” To find a young man with a practical skill, bring him into the Xiang household as her father had planned — that prospect left her unsatisfied. And being simply “married off” was even more out of the question. Working alongside the Prefectural Office, she had risen step by step — what household could offer her the trust and freedom she had now? What kind of man would be worth it?
All these years, she had never met anyone who moved her heart. And yet to swear now to renounce love and feeling altogether — she had not the heart to make such a vow.
None of this could be said to Elder Sister Hu.
Xiang An continued: “I cannot very well require all female workers to remain in a state of loveless marriage and never wed, can I? The moment they marry, there is risk. To say nothing of them — even I cannot be like those niangzis…”
Elder Sister Hu found her attention shifting to Xiang An, and said: “Do not compare yourself to those few — half their lives are already behind them. You are barely past twenty, still quite young. What if the Prefect were to make a match for you as well?” As she said it, Elder Sister Hu found herself thinking of her own situation.
To her surprise, Xiang An said: “There is no time to delay — it cannot wait.”
“What? Has your family already betrothed you to someone?”
Xiang An said: “Not the family — I meant the sugar workshop. Today Yang Workshop Owner sent a card inviting me over for a meeting. It is actually related to that case over the New Year — the woman who died was a sugar workshop female worker, was she not? She was employed at Yang Workshop Owner’s place. Because Yang Workshop Owner himself was implicated and had to appear in court, he is saying all the workshop heads should meet together to discuss a matter — they want to agree on lowering female workers’ wages, and require not only a guarantor but also a signed seal from the father or brothers. Oh…”
Elder Sister Hu said: “He has had bad luck — anyone would be afraid after an encounter like that.”
Xiang An shook her head: “That is not what I mean. Female workers already earn less than male workers. If doing any work requires the father or brothers to sign off — then what about me? Am I also less than them? Will everything require my brothers’ approval, or else I drag in the Prefect? How am I supposed to carry on after that?”
Yang Workshop Owner had called for a joint industry discussion, and the moment he brought up the word “female” — the man who said it did not think twice, but the woman who heard it was deeply alarmed.
Her first thought was that Yang Workshop Owner’s move would directly affect her! If female workers were all devalued, how much could a female supervisor be worth? If female workers earn less than male workers, if women’s work requires supervision and approval by the family’s men, who would dare to cultivate female workers as supervisors? And that would make it very hard for her to build up a team of capable female managers she could rely on. The official sugar workshop was not even hers to own — she still had to run it. If she could not get the staff to follow her orders, there would be trouble. Even now, some of the male supervisors followed her commands only halfheartedly.
Once Yang Workshop Owner and the others had formed their defensive alliance, the first target was female workers — and the next step would be to squeeze her out. Moreover, she sensed that Yang Workshop Owner’s group had a larger scheme in mind — to control the trade guild. All that talk of new workshops that joined in the future having to comply with the present covenant too — was that not the earlier entrants setting the rules for the later ones?
All concubines in the same household, squabbling for rank. When they decided to say she had no place in the guild, would she leave or would she hold her ground? The Prefect would eventually be reassigned. She was willing to follow if that happened. But to slink away from a territory she had built with her own hands — she could not swallow that.
And then she thought again of female workers’ wages already being lower than men’s, and now they wanted to lower them further.
Xiang An had not been saying anything within Elder Sister Hu’s area of expertise. Elder Sister Hu thought for a moment and asked: “What do you want to do right now?”
Xiang An hesitated. She wanted to keep managing the sugar workshop — to keep doing things! She did not mind the lowering of female wages, but the requirement of the father’s and brothers’ signed seal — that she absolutely would not agree to. If that was the condition, she would simply not hire that kind of female worker.
When Yang Workshop Owner and the others had said: “What kind of workers you want to hire is not something we can decide for you — so long as the female workers you employ follow the same rules, we will stand together.”
Xiang An was in a quandary. She had another option: buying servants.
For example, the young female workers from the foundling home — their actual status was that of common people. To cultivate them properly she would have to change their status to that of bond-servants; only then could she be fully certain they would not become “someone else’s people” the moment they married. But this required Zhù Ying’s support. Without it, she could easily be accused of buying a free person into bondage.
Elder Sister Hu said: “Why not simply consult the Prefect? Perhaps the Prefect will have another solution.”
Xiang An said helplessly: “I suppose I have no choice.”
——
“Agree to it,” Zhù Ying said without any hesitation after Xiang An explained some of the difficulties of cultivating female workers and recounted Yang Workshop Owner’s proposal for a “joint industry agreement.”
Xiang An felt a chill in her heart and said quietly: “In that case, I will send word to my second brother to come down from the mountain to take over the sugar workshop, and I will go up to manage the estate. A female household manager — I suppose that should be… acceptable?”
Zhù Ying said: “Hmm?”
Xiang An had no choice but to explain haltingly: “If female workers are ranked as second-class, I will be even more of an anomaly among them. The Prefect’s student, Meng Niangzi, is a widow with a son — and she still encountered much difficulty in business. I am an even younger woman — they will look down on me all the more, and I am afraid whatever I say will fall on deaf ears, which would only end up harming the Prefect’s affairs.”
Zhù Ying said: “He is a workshop owner — so are you. How does that make you an anomaly? Those who are capable rise, those who are inadequate step down. All I need is for someone to get things done for me.”
“But the female workers…”
Zhù Ying, as though she had not quite caught the hidden meaning, said: “The accounting is not done that way. You have to first give people a way to come out, a way to reach your attention.”
Xiang An said quietly: “There is the worry… of raising children for someone else’s family. And if raised for someone else, the worst of it would be if that someone turned out to be an enemy.”
“Children do not grow up in a single day either. Not only the foundling home — as the sugar workshop grows, you can also recruit young apprentice workers from outside, watch them over time, look for those who are clever and of good character, and filter them out layer by layer. Shoot down the wild geese flying overhead first, then think about how to prepare them.”
“Understood.”
Zhù Ying added: “As for the trade guild — base it on the sugar workshop as the foundation, not on persons. Whoever is managing the sugar workshop speaks for that workshop. Those who cannot manage it should keep quiet.”
“Understood.”
“I do not concern myself with whether capable people are men or women,” Zhù Ying said earnestly. “As long as they can get my work done, that is all. You want to use female workers — then use them. As long as my business is well managed, the rest I will handle.”
Xiang An was reasonably satisfied with this outcome — she no longer needed to worry too much. The Prefect was not asking her to leave her post, which was as good as support. Xiang An found her energy renewed and went off to the sugar workshop again, dragging her nephew along with her.
After all, Xiang An was her Junior Sister in the martial lineage, and Elder Sister Hu could not help but pay close attention to Xiang An’s expression as she left.
She could read absolutely nothing from it!
Zhù Ying inwardly found it rather amusing. Within just these past few days — first Jiang Zhou, then Xiang An — both had shown her their own private designs within the scope of what she had given them to manage.
Quite interesting.
She was glad to see it.
——
Having received a roundabout assurance from Zhù Ying, Xiang An threw herself back into work.
The immediate and major matter was expanding the sugar workshop!
For the time being, the new sugar-making method had only spread to a limited number of workshops — but Zhù Ying had made clear that the number would gradually increase! Zhù Ying wanted the entire country’s sugar output to grow; those who had gotten in early, however, wanted to hold on to their advantage. And many of them had kinship ties they could not cut.
So without prior coordination they all hit upon the same idea: branch workshops.
The Prefect had given the formula only to certain specific workshops — but if the secret formula was not shared and a branch workshop was opened with kin contributing capital and taking a stake, surely that was beyond reproach?
Each household began selecting locations, vowing to expand their sugar workshops to the greatest scale! Not only ahead of the other local workshops, but ahead of all the workshops in other prefectures too!
For this reason, recruitment notices were scattered across three counties.
Zhù Ying only learned of this from Huajie, who had come to tell her. Huajie had heard it from her students Meng and Wang, who had said there were notices in the streets recruiting workers.
Was this not competing with farmland for people?