Chapter 1462 - Sun Shangxiang's Internship

"Speaking of classical Chinese proficiency, I'm indeed not qualified to question your level. But obviously you don't understand law either," Ji Xin said mildly. "To be honest, before looking it up in the books, I never imagined that the Great Ming Code, representing the interests of the reactionary landlord class, wouldn't be completely one-sided in favoring commoners and discriminating against bondservants. Relative to commoners, bondservants are 'one degree lower'—but they're still people, not 'objects,' certainly not dogs or horses. For masters, bondservants are also not completely 'objects.' A master who kills a bondservant without cause receives sixty strokes and one year of penal servitude. Though it's only one year, it is still criminal liability. A person obviously wouldn't be sentenced for smashing their own television. Objectively speaking, bondservants in the Ming had a bit more human rights than you imagined."

"You're certain you've actually read the Great Ming Code?" Already recovered, Cheng Yongxin affected indifference.

Ji Xin smiled faintly, ignoring her deflection: "As for those transmigrators in Sanya going on a killing spree—their actions were government actions, not personal murders. If that required hanging from telegraph poles, then people in the courts, police, and military would all need to be strung up—though of course, perhaps in Hong Kong and Taiwan there are quite a few who think that way.

"Let's return to the Yang Jihong case. If tried according to the Arbitration Court's modern legal concepts, unintentional homicide generally doesn't carry the death penalty. But under the Great Ming Code, it would mean paying with one's life—whether bondservant killing bondservant or commoner killing another's bondservant, both result in strangulation. So I think we'd better not reference the Great Ming Code."

With that, he stood and brushed off his clothes. "If there's nothing else, I'll take my leave. Thank you for the tea."

Crack—as Ji Xin's footsteps receded, the sound of a teacup shattering echoed through the elegant little garden.

Today was Sun Shangxiang's first day interning at the Lingao Times. She rose very early and first attended to all household chores.

These days, because Cheng Yongxin spent most of her time outside and only came home to sleep, there was no need to cook. Cleaning and laundry had correspondingly decreased as well. She had only instructed Shangxiang to go out more after finishing housework, mingle with other maidservants, and "make friends." Shangxiang was happy to leisurely wander the transmigrator residential areas and the Farm Teahouse—the places maidservants frequented—and had made quite a few acquaintances among them.

"Time to bid farewell to these leisurely days," Shangxiang spoke to herself, borrowing her mistress's phrasing as she faced her reflection in the mirror.

In the full-length mirror, Sun Shangxiang wore modified Hanfu of her mistress's own design. Shangxiang's hands were very dexterous; having systematically learned modern tailoring and sewing techniques at the maidservant school, she could create garments directly from design sketches.

The modified Hanfu she wore was based on the basic style of a chest-high ruqun with half-sleeves. The "modifications" were adjustments made according to modern clothing concepts: narrower sleeves, a shorter skirt, more fitted tailoring. As for the effect when worn—young girls like maidservants wearing it would never look bad, especially since the silk fabric came from mid-to-high-end products selected from the war spoils warehouse or specially supplied by the Hangzhou Station to the Administrative Office.

Shangxiang loved this outfit, especially the material. Though she could nominally claim to be the daughter of a minor official's household, Jiaodong had always been poor. Her father held only an insignificant hereditary minor military rank, and the household's womenfolk daily wore rough homespun. Even a garment of Songjiang cotton was rare, let alone various silks. The "red skirt" her mother had always longed for—worn by the proper wife—was merely cheaply dyed coarse Shandong pongee, brought out to wear during New Year's and festivals and then quickly put away again.

Yet she still wasn't accustomed to knee-high socks and the legs exposed beneath the hem—no matter what the transmigrators said, it felt too "bold" to her. Of course, she dared not voice this, because her mistress Transmigrator Cheng wore some skirts even shorter than hers. As for her own pair of "liberated feet"—formerly bound and now unbound—exposed beneath the skirt, they looked particularly ugly. Properly, a maiden should "walk without showing her feet," yet now not only must she show them, the three-inch embroidered shoes were impossible to wear. A pair of buckled black cloth shoes only made the deformed feet that had been bound and then released all the more conspicuous.

"What transmigrators—just a bunch of barbarians." Looking at her ugly feet and the bare calves beneath the "shameless" short skirt, Shangxiang muttered without thinking.

Immediately, she startled herself. Am I courting death?! How did that thought slip out?

Though she knew she was alone in the room, she guiltily glanced around. The room was silent, sunlight streaming through the open window. The curtains stirred slightly in the breeze—perfect tranquility.

Shangxiang touched her chest, letting out a guilty breath.

She touched her chignon and hair ornaments: two butterfly-bow ribbons adorned her double-bun hairstyle. Her bangs were neatly combed too. From her shoulder bag—a thick cotton satchel recently given to her by Transmigrator Cheng—she took out an exquisite leather wallet. She checked its contents: the teahouse supplementary consumption card, the Delong transmigrator credit card supplementary card, several hundred yuan in cash notes, her ID card, special pass... and one of Cheng Yongxin's calling cards. These cards weren't like the calling cards of the old era, handed out freely everywhere, but rather resembled the formal visiting cards used by Ming gentry.

Having checked everything, Shangxiang left. Today, following the Chief's instructions, she was to buy some things for herself to prepare for her "apprenticeship" with that yellow-haired foreign woman.

Speaking of which, if not for the Chief's orders, she wouldn't want to learn anything from this foreign woman. She had an intense, strange fragrance that even the Chief found off-putting. She spoke in an abnormally loud voice, always wore exaggerated expressions, and would wave her arms at any moment. Peculiar beyond measure.

Usually observing coolly from the sidelines, she knew her mistress, though valuing this foreign woman and frequently dining and chatting with her—even sometimes having her stay overnight—speaking to her politely, sometimes even affectionately, didn't truly like her.

If an apprenticeship was the question, she would rather apprentice herself to that Transmigrator Ji who had visited yesterday. Though plainly dressed, he had a refined appearance and upright bearing. When he spoke, it was orderly and logical—very much the manner of a scholar-official. This was the first time Shangxiang had seen anyone render her usually silver-tongued mistress speechless—even angry enough to smash a fine porcelain teacup.

Activity in the transmigrator residential compound began at dawn. By now, most maidservants had already gone out shopping. In the plaza below, only a few maidservants strolled with babies in their arms. These "Second-Generation Transmigrators"—the oldest already toddling, the youngest only drooling while gazing at this new world.

Some maidservants still hadn't shed old habits. Wearing cotton aprons, they placed their children in rattan baby carriages while sitting nearby sorting vegetables or shelling beans.

Shangxiang looked down on such behavior. Though her family circumstances hadn't been comfortable and the women sometimes had to show their faces in public, strolling the streets carrying a baby or doing housework there was absolutely impossible.

Miss Cheng was right: most of the Chiefs and maidservants came from common backgrounds and didn't understand the etiquette and enjoyments of wealthy households. Despite being rich enough to rival nations, they wouldn't build a single proper mansion, living in birdcage-like apartment buildings where each family's space was smaller than even her hereditary minor military officer's home.

Today, Shangxiang was heading to Cooperative Store Number 43. This was one of a series of special supply stores the Administrative Office had established for transmigrators: Store Number 43 in East Gate Market specialized in daily necessities; the Fresh Special Supply Store at the South Sea Experimental Farm supplied grain, vegetables, fruits, eggs, meat, and seafood; the Administrative Office Special Supply Food Store at the Farm Teahouse supplied various processed food products; seafood was supplied on order through the Seafood Processing Factory's retail outlet.

These special supply stores used credit cards specially issued by Delong Bank for transmigrators. To facilitate maidservants managing household purchasing, limited supplementary cards authorized with transmigrator signatures were specially issued.

Shangxiang left the residential compound and boarded a public horse-drawn carriage to East Gate Market. The morning streets were already bustling: workers heading to their jobs surged like tides through the streets. Shops in East Gate Market had already opened. Earlier than the shops were the licensed breakfast vendors with their business permits. The aromas of various foods mingled with steam from boiling pots, filling the air.

Even in East Gate Market, predominantly a naturalized citizen district, Shangxiang's attire drew considerable attention. Many gazes immediately fixed on her, mixed with envy and resentment. Whether naturalized citizens or natives, everyone knew that only the future-bound female students at Fragrant Fields or the maidservants serving transmigrators could wear such attire and ornaments.

Shangxiang secretly preened, deliberately slowing her pace to fully enjoy being the center of attention—though she knew in her heart that such "strange attire, showing one's face in public" to attract gazes bordered on "enticing bees and butterflies," unbefitting a virtuous maiden's conduct, she still found it rather gratifying.

She left the main road and entered a side street. Far fewer people here. Near the end of the side street, the crowd had thinned to almost nothing. At the end stood a small shop front, only one bay wide, but a three-story building. The shop front bore only an unremarkable sign reading "Cooperative Store No. 43." The building number was also 43.

Bamboo blinds hung over the shop front for shade; nothing could be seen from the street. Shangxiang lifted the bamboo blind and walked in.

(End of Chapter)