Taking someone’s hand makes it short, eating someone’s food makes the mouth soft.
Having eaten the shrimp dumplings Ji Ying brought, Shi Xiang and the others looked at Ji Ying with considerably more warmth.
How had she initially thought Ji Ying was cold, arrogant, and didn’t know how to get along with people?
Zhou Shaojin grumbled inwardly, spread the moon-white Songjiang fine cloth Ji Ying had left yesterday on the sewing table, then took out chalk powder and scissors, and asked Ji Ying, “Where’s the pattern?”
Ji Ying was startled and asked back, “What pattern?”
Zhou Shaojin blinked and said, “You asked me to teach you how to make socks for Uncle Chi. If you don’t give me a pattern, how will I know the measurements?”
Ji Ying’s face darkened slightly. “Wait a moment, I’ll go find an old pair of socks right now.”
Zhou Shaojin fell silent.
Ji Ying flew out the door but collided head-on with Shi Xiang who was bringing in tea and refreshments.
Shi Xiang looked at Ji Ying brushing past her, saying puzzled, “What’s going on? Why did Miss Ji Ying leave right after arriving?”
“It’s nothing.” Zhou Shaojin slowly placed the small box containing chalk powder beside the sewing table. “She’ll be back soon.”
Shi Xiang acknowledged with a sound, placed the refreshments on the small table nearby, and said, “Second Miss, please have some tea.”
Zhou Shaojin nodded, took a sip of tea, and pondered that this morning’s plans were ruined. Tomorrow morning Ji Ying would probably come again, so she could only rush to make Old Madam Guo’s birthday gifts at night. Calculating this way, time would be insufficient. She’d forget about the shoes and socks and just make two forehead bands to send over. Furthermore, she should be more selective about making needlework as gifts for others. Previously Yuan Shi had asked her to help draw a picture of children at play, and now Ji Ying was asking her to help make socks—who knew who else might come tomorrow? She wasn’t a professional embroiderer. Moreover, Sister was about to marry. In her previous life, Sister had difficulty bearing children. She wanted to embroider a picture of Guanyin Sending a Child to give Sister as part of her dowry. Such a large embroidery piece would take her at least half a year. If interrupted by other matters, taking a year wouldn’t be surprising. Calculating carefully, she needed to start preparing now.
The more she thought about it, the more she felt her time was insufficient.
She simply called Shi Xiang in and had her prepare several large sheets of tracing paper: “…Four feet square.”
Small pieces of tracing paper were all cut from large pieces—this was a simple matter.
Shi Xiang smiled, acknowledged, and left, only to collide head-on with Ji Ying entering the room.
Zhou Shaojin couldn’t help exclaiming in surprise, “How did you get back so quickly?”
Ji Ying’s expression didn’t look good. She didn’t answer Zhou Shaojin’s question but instead tossed a pair of shoes she was holding with two fingers in front of Zhou Shaojin: “Here, your Uncle Chi’s shoes.”
Zhou Shaojin looked at the dark blue fine cloth shoes embroidered with auspicious clouds lying on the ground, one right-side up and one upside down, and said in astonishment, “Didn’t you ask me to teach you how to make socks? Why did you bring shoes? Don’t tell me Miss Nan Ping also wants you to help make shoes for Uncle Chi?”
Ji Ying was even more surprised than her, eyes wide as she said, “Aren’t socks made according to the shoe size?”
“Who told you that!” Zhou Shaojin’s eyes widened.
“When I was at home, the nannies in my household all made my socks according to my shoes.” Ji Ying’s eyes were opened even wider than Zhou Shaojin’s. “If you don’t make socks according to shoe size, then what size do you use? Don’t tell me you expect me to go measure your Uncle Chi’s feet?” She looked disgusted and continued, “If that’s the case, I’d rather go ask Nan Ping what size socks your Uncle Chi wears.”
That’s because you’re a girl, so the nannies in your household couldn’t take your old socks to use as patterns for others.
Zhou Shaojin didn’t know what to say anymore. She closed her eyes, and after a while said, “Either find an old pair of Uncle Chi’s socks, or ask Miss Nan Ping to draw a sock pattern.”
Nan Ping managed the needlework at Xiaoshan Conggui Courtyard, so she must know Uncle Chi’s measurements like the back of her hand. Drawing a sock pattern would be a simple matter for her.
However, Zhou Shaojin estimated Ji Ying wouldn’t ask her.
Otherwise, she wouldn’t have made such a big blunder just now.
But Ji Ying said that when she was at home, the nannies made her socks according to her shoes. This was the practice of refined wealthy households… Could Ji Ying’s family have been officials whose property was confiscated? No, didn’t she say her parents were farming in their hometown? And she had two older brothers… So why exactly did she enter the manor to serve Uncle Chi?
The more Zhou Shaojin thought about it, the more confused she became.
Ji Ying had already returned like the wind, holding a pair of socks with two fingers… “Here, for you!”
With one glance, Zhou Shaojin had a clear idea.
She pointed to the small wicker basket beside the sewing table. “Just put them there.”
Ji Ying tossed the socks into the wicker basket.
Zhou Shaojin took the chalk powder and began drawing the sock pattern on the cloth.
Ji Ying asked curiously, “You don’t need to measure?”
“Why would I need to measure?” Zhou Shaojin said without looking up. “When I was learning needlework before, I made countless pairs of socks.”
Ji Ying grew even more curious. “Why make socks?”
“To practice stitching!” Zhou Shaojin picked up the scissors and began cutting the cloth with snipping sounds. “Whether needlework is good depends mainly on whether the stitches are even and smooth. This requires constant practice. Otherwise, no matter how well you cut the fabric, after sewing it together it will be wrinkled because the stitches are uneven. Then the garment won’t look good. So embroidery beginners all embroider handkerchiefs, and sewing beginners all make socks.” Seeing that Ji Ying seemed to know nothing about needlework and being quite interested in Ji Ying’s background, she couldn’t help asking, “Didn’t you learn needlework when you were young?”
Ji Ying said vaguely, “My mother wanted me to learn, but my father said that with me being this way, it didn’t matter if I didn’t learn. There are plenty of women who can do needlework—when the time came, we could just hire someone to make my clothes, shoes, and socks.” At this point, her expression became somewhat unpleasant.
Zhou Shaojin watched and sighed inwardly.
Ji Ying probably never imagined her family would ultimately send her to become a maid for Uncle Chi, right?
And for a maid, needlework was the most basic skill.
If you couldn’t do needlework well, no matter how capable you were otherwise, it was difficult to get ahead.
Zhou Shaojin’s hand paused.
There was another situation—some girls were naturally good at accounting. They couldn’t do needlework, but if they could manage accounts, they could equally establish themselves with their employers.
“Are you very good at arithmetic then?” she asked Ji Ying.
“Compared to others, naturally I’m good.” As Ji Ying spoke, a trace of gloom flashed across her face. “But compared to your Uncle Chi… it’s not that good.”
Zhou Shaojin understood.
Daring to compare herself with men, she must be extremely strong among girls.