Chapter 1355 - Wang Siniang

Sunlight streamed through the freshly papered window, filling the room with brightness.

The house was newly built and recently wallpapered—whitewashed on all four sides, very bright. A large bed, a dressing table, all kept spotlessly clean. On the table sat a vase holding a few wildflowers.

Wang Siniang was at the dressing table arranging her appearance. Though she was a country woman, this area around Hangzhou had always been a land of fish and rice, with the added bounty of tea and silk—far more prosperous than other places. When harvests were decent, even farm girls paid careful attention to their grooming.

The old saying that Suzhou and Hangzhou produced beauties held true: first, the mild climate and waters here nourished people; second, the region's prosperity meant even women from poor families could afford some self-adornment. Hence the impression of abundant beauties.

She combed her hair carefully, pinned in a sprig of jasmine orchid, touched rouge to her lips, and dressed herself head to toe in neat splendor. She changed into clean clothes before finally opening her door and stepping out.

The main hall was empty—aside from a table and four long benches, there was no proper furniture. A few wooden boards were nailed to the wall as shelves for miscellaneous items. But for Wang Siniang, this was already deeply satisfying—at least the family had a decent home again. Better than before, even: their old place had been three rooms and a courtyard too, but with a thatched roof. How could it compare to this tile-roofed house with its skylight? Bright and tidy.

In the center of the hall stood several embroidery frames. The door was open; outside, peach blossoms bloomed brilliantly, bees shuttling through the sunlight, occasionally wandering inside to circle the room. The sight lifted one's spirits.

Their family's "wasp luck" had finally passed! Once they had lived comfortably enough: seven or eight mu of mulberry orchards, raising silkworms and reeling silk themselves. Though not wealthy, they had managed a modest living. Then two years ago, her husband, hoping to make a little extra, had borrowed to "borrow leaves" and expand their silkworm raising. An epidemic destroyed their entire yield, ruining them completely. Forced to sell land and house to repay the compounding debts, they were left with nothing and no way to survive. With no other choice, they had asked Cai Shi to introduce them, and the whole family had sold themselves into bondage under this Master Zhao, who had come from Guangdong.

Becoming someone's bondservant was a last resort—otherwise the whole family would have ended up on the streets. But once you sold yourself, you had no control over your own fate. If the master's household was generous and proper, that was good fortune; if the master was cruel and lecherous, the family could be destroyed overnight. Fortunately, Cai Shi was an old acquaintance who assured them that though this master was an outsider from Guangdong, he was kindhearted and treated his servants better than anyone could imagine. He even took in refugees, caring for orphans and the elderly—truly a great philanthropist.

Despite these assurances, Wang Siniang remained half skeptical. But with no other options, she had no choice but to take the gamble.

As it turned out, that gamble had paid off. Since joining Master Zhao's household, the family's fortunes had gradually improved.

The master was reasonably accommodating, settling the whole family at his estate in Phoenix Mountain. Wang Siniang's husband, Shen Jun, was skilled at cultivating mulberry. After entering Master Zhao's household, he became a "foreman," specifically leading crews to plant mulberry trees on the hillside land. The master had deep pockets, declaring outright that he wanted to plant five hundred mu of mulberry orchards.

Wang Siniang had assumed she would be assigned to raise silkworms and had mentioned to Cai Shi that if silkworms were to be raised, equipment would need to be prepared in advance, and mulberry leaves secured through "leaf borrowing" ahead of time—newly planted mulberry saplings wouldn't produce harvestable leaves for several years. When leaves were needed, buying them wouldn't work—during the busiest silkworm-rearing periods, you couldn't buy leaves even at high prices.

But all of last year passed without any silkworm-rearing work. Not only no silkworms, but the task assigned to Wang Siniang was leading the women workers at the tea plantation in planting and picking tea. Wang Siniang's maiden family were tea farmers; she knew how to plant, pick, and even pan-fry green tea. So she counted as a "female foreman" at Phoenix Mountain Estate.

With both husband and wife as "foremen," their monthly wages were higher. Before long, the master had group housing built on the estate and distributed to the servants. They too received a unit—one main room with two side chambers, not large, but comfortable and convenient. Their three daughters had even been blessed by the master's kindness: all were enrolled in the estate's "charity school" to study. This was something Wang Siniang had never dreamed of—the charity school admitted only children of the estate's servants, accepting all those under thirteen for schooling.

A six- or seven-year-old girl could already serve as a maid, running errands. A seven- or eight-year-old boy could be sent out to cut grass or herd sheep, or at least do odd jobs. No master anywhere provided free food and schooling. Had this Master Zhao really come all the way from Guangdong just to do charitable works?

Skeptical as she was, her daughters were now studying, and their knowledge had become quite different from before. Not only could they discuss many things their parents had never known, but even on topics like cultivating mulberry and raising silkworms, her eldest daughter could now speak with considerable authority—the "charity school" taught more than just the Thousand Character Classic and Hundred Family Surnames; there were many practical subjects as well.

As for why the estate's children were being taught these things, perhaps Master Zhao intended to make a great enterprise of this place, and these children were all destined to become "foremen" and "managers" in the future? But surely he wouldn't need so many people for that.

In her view, the master was a very mysterious person. When the estate was first being built, several strange men had come—said to be Master Zhao's "friends." Friends they might be called, yet each one directed and gestured around the estate as if he were the owner. Sometimes they were there, sometimes not. The master was quite familiar with them; they could often be seen walking together on Phoenix Mountain, each carrying large rolled-up papers, pointing here and there.

Later, these people disappeared one by one. But occasionally new faces would appear—also said to be Master Zhao's "friends."

With each "friend's" arrival, the estate would see some new construction—perhaps buildings, perhaps irrigation channels. And that strange house with the chimney built on the hilltop: ever since it was built, whenever the reservoir on the mountain was about to run dry, it would belch black smoke, and the reservoir would fill right back up again.

In short, the master was a most mysterious person. Yet Wang Siniang never dared inquire too closely about her employer's background. Besides, all of last year she had barely caught a glimpse of Master Zhao. According to Steward Cai, the master was very busy. Busy with what? Wang Siniang didn't dare ask. She wasn't one of the inner household servants; without being summoned, she wasn't permitted to enter the estate's inner quarters. The master's movements weren't hers to inquire about.

But what the master was up to was plain enough to see: he was truly investing heavily in Phoenix Mountain Estate! In two years, the hillsides that had once been overgrown with head-high weeds and scrub had been transformed into mulberry orchards, fruit orchards, and tea plantations. Several workshops had been built. At the foot of the mountain along the river, a sizable charitable hall had been constructed. Last year, the area had suffered a major flood; the master had partnered with local gentry to establish this hall, taking in refugees, providing food, shelter, and clothing. Every one of them was being raised plump and rosy. Some stayed on the estate as servants, assigned to various work sites. Others were periodically taken away by boats that docked at the riverside pier—supposedly sent to open up wasteland at Master Zhao's estate. Where exactly? Wang Siniang neither knew nor dared ask. At least her own family could remain in their homeland—for that, she thanked heaven.

She asked for nothing more than to live peacefully here. The daughters were growing up; if one of them caught the master's eye and could serve as a "personal attendant" at his side, the whole family's future would be more secure.

This notion wasn't mere fancy. When she had first kowtowed to Master Zhao, she had noticed the intense male desire in his eyes as he looked at her and her daughters. The master was young; the mother and daughters were reasonably pretty—such things were hardly surprising. If the master happened to favor one of her daughters, that would actually be a good path forward.

Yet since then, Master Zhao had shown no further interest. Her "good-for-nothing" husband had breathed a sigh of relief, but Wang Siniang felt a little disappointed—was she really less attractive than that ugly creature Feng Hua?

Speaking of this Master Zhao: he had no wife by his side, nor any concubines. The only maid regularly attending him was the dark, skinny Feng Hua. If he favored men, his personal page Ji Ying was hardly handsome—more like a brute fit for rough work. Throughout the estate, she couldn't identify any servant, male or female, who seemed particularly favored. Even He Ning, whom the master had rescued from the bridgehead and who was clearly a budding beauty, remained unattended and unwatched, not even made a personal maid.

This master was truly an eccentric. Thinking thus, Wang Siniang took a blue cloth "work apron" from the shelf and tied it around her waist, then wrapped a kerchief around her head and face and donned a conical hat—today she would be picking tea at the estate's tea plantation, working a full day. The spring sun was already quite fierce.

The servants' quarters were quiet; most people had already left for work. Several dozen such housing units had been built along the hillside here, forming a small village. Besides residences, there were public wells and latrines. The buildings were uniformly neat, with flagstone paths running past each household's door—all swept spotlessly clean. Sanitation was assigned, with rotating duties and dedicated inspectors. Any household slacking would have wages docked. Inspections covered not only public areas but also private homes. This compulsory sanitation inspection was the most effective way to ensure public health safety.

Wang Siniang walked up toward the hillside. At the village's public well—fed by a reservoir above, with water piped through underground channels—several maids washing clothes looked up and greeted her as she passed. She was a "foreman" on the estate; her status was considerably higher than that of ordinary women.