Chapter 13

The weather had grown colder by the day, as if the heavens themselves were weeping, leaving a fresh layer of snow on the ground each morning. Yang Manniang estimated, by modern standards, the temperature must have dropped to around minus twenty degrees Celsius.

Mornings on the way to work had become far more arduous than before.

Previously, the ground was solid and firm beneath her feet. Now, it had turned soft and treacherous, and by the time she reached the alum building, the snow had soaked through her cotton shoes completely.

Her face flushed red from the cold as she grimaced, making her way to the changing room on the first floor. Those who had arrived early were already gathered around the steamers, chatting idly.

She hung her sheepskin coat on the rack by the window, slipped off her cotton shoes, now encased in a layer of ice, and rubbed her numb, frozen feet with her hands. Unable to help herself, Yang Manniang let out a long sigh.

These cloth shoes were utterly useless against moisture; wearing them was a cruel illusion. They kept her feet warm only briefly after putting them on, but once outside, the snow seeped in immediately.

If the snow had been firm, it wouldn’t have been so bad—at worst, thick ice clumps would form at the soles, making each step feel like walking on stilts.

But on days like these, when snow fell continuously, the soft snow would quickly soak through the shoe tops, making them thick and heavy. Walking felt no different than having her feet immersed in icy water.

She pondered silently.

Once she had earned enough money, she vowed to buy a pair of sheepskin boots, no matter what.

“Manniang, come warm yourself here!” Lü Xiaoniang called, giving up her spot and pulling Yang Manniang onto the seat.

Lü Xiaoniang rented a public apartment near the Grand Xiangguo Temple, so her commute was only five or six minutes—far less grueling than Yang Manniang’s.

“Miao Cui’er’s sick today; she probably won’t come. I wonder who the management will send upstairs to the third floor to take care of things,” Lü Xiaoniang gossiped as she helped straighten the snow-dampened hair bun on Yang Manniang’s head.

Liu Xishi, leaning by the steamer, glanced at Yang Manniang and teased with a smile, “Among the rest, Manniang’s the prettiest; maybe it’ll be her.”

Liu Xishi was always so blunt and carefree. Yang Manniang smiled politely, choosing not to respond.

“Just because you’re pretty, you think you can go?” a sarcastic voice called from the doorway.

The speaker was a young woman with fine eyebrows and narrow eyes, her hair styled in the alum building’s uniform double bun. Several freckles adorned the right side of her face.

Yang Manniang recognized her immediately.

Her name was Wang Qiaoniang, a maid in the first-floor main hall, two years older than Yang Manniang and with longer service. She was the eldest among the eight maids on the first floor and carried herself with a sense of superiority.

Wang Qiaoniang had learned the night before that Miao Cui’er was ill and had even petitioned the deputy manager of the first floor, Yang Sanyuan, determined to seize the chance to serve on the third floor.

So naturally, she was displeased to hear Liu Xishi’s comment.

However, she didn’t dare argue with Liu Xishi directly—she knew better than to pick fights with those who were more outspoken.

Instead, she aimed her ire at Yang Manniang, who had always been gentle and kind.

With a disdainful snort, Wang Qiaoniang scoffed, “The esteemed guests upstairs all have concubines who are stunningly beautiful. Do you think they’d pick some common courtesan?”

Such a blatant insult infuriated Lü Xiaoniang, who was close to Yang Manniang. She couldn’t hold back and retorted loudly, “Hey, how can you talk like that? What do you mean by ‘courtesan’? How vulgar!”

“Say what you want. The real boss hasn’t spoken yet, but the dog’s already barking,” Wang Qiaoniang sneered.

She had long disliked Yang Manniang and Lü Xiaoniang. Originally, she might have served as a candle maid on the second floor, but because these two women were slightly better looking, she was relegated to the first-floor main hall.

The alum building had a strict hierarchy, and maids on different floors served different clients.

The first-floor main hall maids had the hardest tasks, serving ordinary merchants and minor officials ranked around the seventh or eighth grade.

The second-floor elegant rooms entertained wealthy merchants worth at least ten thousand taels and officials ranked fifth grade or above.

The third floor was even rarer: only two grand suites, with both living and dining accommodations, reserved for officials of the third rank or higher, and only the extremely wealthy could set foot there.

Miao Cui’er, with her enchanting peach blossom eyes and graceful figure, was nearly as beautiful as Shui Susu, which is why she served on the third floor.

Women like Yang Manniang and Lü Xiaoniang, fair and delicate, were candle maids on the second floor.

Ordinary-looking women like Wang Qiaoniang served on the first floor.

Yet human nature was strange—people never envied those far superior to themselves but were jealous of those only slightly better.

For instance, Wang Qiaoniang never gave Miao Cui’er a second glance, who always looked down condescendingly on first-floor maids like them, barking orders and acting high and mighty.

But Wang Qiaoniang treated Miao Cui’er with utmost respect, addressing her affectionately as “older sister” every day, boasting for days after receiving even a kind glance.

However, Yang Manniang, always kind and unprovocative, was the one Wang Qiaoniang could never abide. She took every opportunity to needle and mock her.

Yang Manniang had always endured such slights silently. After all, maids weren’t allowed to quarrel or fight in ways that disturbed the guests. If the managers caught them, fines were the least of their worries—they could be kicked out of the establishment entirely.

She didn’t want to lose this livelihood over a petty argument.

Yet, this only encouraged Wang Qiaoniang to escalate her provocations.

Now, she had even compared Yang Manniang to a courtesan and called Lü Xiaoniang a dog, making Lü Xiaoniang’s eyes redden with anger.

But Yang Manniang was no longer the meek girl of the past. She refused to tolerate these bullies any longer.

She took the offended Lü Xiaoniang’s arm gently, comforted her with a pat, and smiled wryly, unrestrained as she fired back:

“We’re just close friends—jealous, are you? Mind your own business! If you’re so concerned, why don’t you taste the contents of the manure cart passing by every day with a spoon?”

“Pfft!”

“Ha ha ha!”

Her sharp yet amusing retort drew bursts of laughter from those around.

This was so unlike the usual timid Yang Manniang that even the angry Lü Xiaoniang was left wide-eyed, speechless.

“You—how dare you insult me!” Wang Qiaoniang fumed, raising her voice in fury.

She hadn’t expected the usually submissive Yang Manniang to fight back.

“Yeah, I insulted you. So what? We all have to start somewhere. Why should I indulge you? Some people are just born with eyes that look down on others. They’re worms themselves but think everywhere else is a filthy latrine! Know what? Even dung beetles would be amazed if they saw inside your head!”

Yang Manniang spoke calmly, unfazed.

They were all workers. She feared losing her job—did Wang Qiaoniang not?

Her words, though soft-spoken and measured, were maddeningly cutting.

“You—you vile woman!” Wang Qiaoniang, unable to curse with subtlety like Yang Manniang, could only sputter curses in frustration.

Still, she dared not lay a hand on her rival.

The alum building’s strict rules meant that verbal disputes could result in fines, but any physical altercation would lead to immediate expulsion, regardless of fault.

Wang Qiaoniang valued this job too much to risk it.

Seeing no sign of violence, Yang Manniang felt even more at ease.

Years of online skirmishes had not been in vain.

With a roll of her eyes, she shot back lightly, “Oh? Are you so precious? How much do you sell for, anyway?”

“Pfft!”

“Ha ha ha...”

Yang Manniang’s unpredictable wit once again turned the changing room into a sea of merriment.

“You... you!” Wang Qiaoniang was left utterly speechless, silenced by Yang Manniang’s sharp tongue.