Chapter One

On the counter lay lists of requested glassware and a handful of down payments. After sorting and counting them, Zhou Yao summoned a messenger guard to deliver the lists to the Nine Kilns.

“Milady…” someone called softly from behind her.

Zhou Yao turned to find Qing'er standing behind her, dazed, as if her soul had slipped away.

She recognized her—Qing'er, the maidservant whose sister had been ill when they first took over the Golden Curtain Pavilion. Zhou Yao had spoken with her again on the fifth day after the pavilion opened.

“What’s the matter? Is it about your sister?” Zhou Yao looked at her seriously.

Qing'er shook her head. “My sister is almost recovered, but...” She wrung her hands, hesitating, her head bowed as if uncertain whether to speak.

Zhou Yao was puzzled, but no matter how she pressed, Qing'er only stammered without making sense. The pavilion's business was booming, and there was much to handle; any more delay and they might not finish today.

After a moment, Zhou Yao said soothingly, “If you need money, go straight to Cuiwei and have her take it from the accounts after registering.”

With that, Zhou Yao hurried out, leaving Qing'er standing alone.

She never noticed the palm-sized powder compact clutched in Qing'er's hand.

The Nine Kilns weren't far from the pavilion—a walk without a carriage took about two or three incense sticks' time.

“Wait, don't put that bisque pot directly into the kiln!” Chen Yuwen's exasperated voice rang out before she even entered. “Who sent these people? Not a bit of experience—it's driving me mad.”

“It seems my master is dissatisfied with the workers I sent,” Zhou Yao said, walking in with a smile. Her cheerful demeanor was a stark contrast to her first visit to the Nine Kilns.

If Chen Yuwen had to describe it, he'd say Zhou Yao had turned wicked once she started making money.

He crossed his arms, glaring at her with the resentment of an avenging ghost, and said darkly, “You dare say that!”

Chen Yuwen personally led Zhou Yao to inspect the workers she'd assigned over the past few days. They were clumsy and careless; some had even muddied the painstakingly settled clay.

With so many people, he couldn't watch them all alone. The materials originally prepared were already insufficient, and now the production time had to be extended.

Orders at the pavilion grew daily, and many glass lamps were backlogged. Zhou Yao hadn't started to worry, but Chen Yuwen was already anxious and couldn't sleep at night.

“Master, you've worked hard today. Go back and rest—I'll handle this,” Zhou Yao said, taking silk cords from the room to secure her clothes. “You'll get a share of the profits from the glass. The servants should bring it this afternoon; remember to count it.”

“No need, I don't care about that,” he waved his hand, indifferent to money. “I'll leave the rest to you, and I'll go rest.”

She let him go, and within moments gathered all the workers at the Nine Kilns to assign new tasks.

“The first group will go to the back mountain to mine new kaolin clay and bring it back; the second group is responsible for drying and crushing; the third group is responsible for wet mixing and stirring the clay.”

The ingredient proportions had to be handled by Zhou Yao herself; no one else could help.

“If you can't handle your job, you can switch with others—just do it now,” Zhou Yao said, watching them scramble. “Those who aren't careful but have strength can go to the third group; those with less strength go to the second group; those who know nothing go to the first group.”

She decided to assign the simple steps to the indentured servants with death contracts, while the more difficult steps—which ordinary servants couldn't learn in a short time—were to be handled by Chen Yuwen and herself, as they wouldn't be able to keep up otherwise.

Moreover, these days Zhou Yao was running back and forth between the two places, unless she hired more workers. Watching them go to their assigned posts, she felt conflicted inside.

Rather than hiring outsiders, it was better to do it herself first. Glasswork had to be shaped bit by bit; it couldn't be rushed, or it would lose its beauty and, with it, its value.

It was true that she had given customers approximate dates, but Zhou Yao had thought ahead not to overpromise, so she only said the items would be delivered by mid-October. Making them one by one would still be in time.

They worked in an orderly fashion. Zhou Yao picked a clever-looking person from each group to act as foreman, responsible for managing their work and rest times.

Zhou Yao didn't idle either, cleaning up their earlier mess. The half-fired glass needed someone to watch the heat, so she brought over a folding bed from the floor and sat at a moderate distance from the kiln.

Cuiwei was off today, so Zhou Yao had no one to help her. She remembered Qing'er at the pavilion who had been so hesitant that morning—what did she want to say?

This batch of glass was actually not difficult to make; compared to the molded and carved glass ornaments, Zhou Yao planned to introduce those gradually later after the pavilion was established.

As time passed, Zhou Yao's glassmaking skills improved. The backup materials produced by the three groups at the Nine Kilns accumulated, and seeing them filled her with a sense of security.

She brought out wooden tags from the room, ground ink, and wrote the settling dates on them. She tied a tag with the date onto each jar that needed settling, and placed the jars in a cool area by zone.

The long, hot days passed, and within a few days, this new batch of glass was fired successfully.

Recently, Zhou Yao had been eating and sleeping at the Nine Kilns, rarely visiting the pavilion. Occasionally, she heard from Cuiwei that Bige at the pavilion stayed awake all night, barking 'wer~wer~wer~' incessantly, causing many servants to complain they couldn't sleep and were listless in the morning.

“Madam, you must do something about this!” Cuiwei said pitifully, staring at Zhou Yao with such expectation that Zhou Yao couldn't face it directly.

Feeling guilty, Zhou Yao averted her eyes...

She had enjoyed a few pleasant days without Bige by her side and almost forgotten that dark period...

Ah, since Bige was brought back, there had indeed been much less peace and quiet.

Well... then everyone will have to be a bit more tolerant~

But Zhou Yao didn't intend to tell Cuiwei that directly.

She awkwardly kicked a pebble at her feet, watched it roll off, and under Cuiwei's gaze, she touched her hair bun unnaturally. Finally, unable to bear the stare, she pretended to be busy by adding a few sticks of firewood to the kiln, trying to brush off Cuiwei, who had been tormented by Bige.

At that moment, Cuiwei silently tagged Zhou Yao as unreliable but helpless; she returned to the pavilion to mind the shop, feeling like crying but without tears.

And so, Zhou Yao opened the kiln.

This batch yielded few finished glass pieces; many glass lamps had become waste due to insufficient firing heat.

It seemed the glass she had produced before was pure luck. But why had everything been fine before and suddenly turned out this way?

Zhou Yao was worried for several days until Chen Yuwen returned from his day off and solved the problem.

The original kiln had used plant ash obtained by repeated burning, filtering, and boiling; and quicklime from shells that were calcined repeatedly, ground with water, and dried. These were combined and then mixed with kaolin clay to fire glass lamps that imitated jade.

The problem Chen Yuwen pointed out was not the proportions or the kiln temperature, but a very critical and fatal issue.

It was that the workers were lazy; they hadn't done all the processing properly. Zhou Yao had originally required burning ten to twenty times, but the workers, to save effort, burned at most once or twice. Though there was still plant ash, it couldn't achieve the desired effect.

These workers were all indentured servants signed to the Qi Mansion with life contracts. They were usually given food by the masters and were tight-lipped and loyal, but in terms of work ethic, Zhou Yao realized that was indeed where the problem lay.

She ordered people to carefully inspect all the materials prepared earlier. Anyone who found a substandard spot in these batches would get a reward of twenty wen. In a blink, many workers rushed to inspect.

The results were as expected: all the previous materials had not been made according to requirements.

This incident reminded Zhou Yao that while indentured servants had their merits, no one would willingly do something that brought no benefit to themselves. She sat on the folding bed pondering for a while, then called Cuiwei from the pavilion to the Nine Kilns.

All the workers at the Nine Kilns were gathered, and those who had cut corners were separated; only a few stood on the other side.

Since the Nine Kilns was in need of workers, replacing many people was not an option. Zhou Yao first had Cuiwei distribute the promised rewards, and in front of everyone, she gave an extra string of coins and seven days off to those who had worked steadily, to demonstrate her clear policy of rewards and punishments.

“The work at the Nine Kilns is indeed very strenuous,” Zhou Yao said unhurriedly as she walked to a half-height wooden chest for storing copper coins, casually grabbed a handful of stringed coins, and played with them in her palm. “Those who don't want to work diligently can return to the Qi Mansion now to do easy jobs.”

She tossed the string of coins back into the chest. Under the blazing sun, the glint of the copper coins flashed into everyone's eyes.

Zhou Yao said with feigned regret, “Too bad, those easy jobs back there don't come with extra rewards.”

“I don't need smooth-talking, pilfering, slippery characters. Those willing to stay at the Nine Kilns and work steadily according to my requirements will earn at least...” Zhou Yao held up one finger.

A worker whispered below, “A hundred coins? I'm not doing such hard work for that. I'm heading back to the Qi Mansion soon, so don't try to steal my spot.”

Zhou Yao naturally heard their conversation and let out a snicker.

Cuiwei naturally picked up where Zhou Yao left off, “How could Madam be so stingy?”

“Currently, a self-cultivating farmer's yearly grain harvest converts to about three strings of coins, that is, three thousand copper coins. I'll pay those staying at the Nine Kilns one string per month, distributed on the fifteenth. If you work well, I'll give extra rewards—small and large amounts add up to no less than one string.”

“Of course, the more you do, the more I give. Think it over carefully, then go to Cuiwei to register.”

“Wow, a whole string!” the one who had been whispering with his neighbor exclaimed. “Who is this woman? So generous—such a big spender! When my parents sold me because they couldn't afford food, they only got two hundred strings. In my whole life, I've never seen this much money, hehe.”

Zhou Yao looked toward the voice and saw a neatly dressed young man standing at the end of the line, his coarse clothes covered in mud.

She pointed at the man. “You, come here.”

The man stood there dumbfounded, not reacting. Zhou Yao repeated, “Yes, you. Come over and be the first to register.”

Zhou Yao thought: He looks foolish, but he's bold, daring to whisper in the ranks.

Cuiwei found the list of personnel previously delivered by Duyun, unrolled the scroll, prepared the brush and inkstone, and ground ink. In the afternoon breeze carrying floral scents, she began registering.

That man's choice matched his earlier whispered decision—he stayed at the Nine Kilns. In fact, they all chose to stay at the Nine Kilns.

“Since you've all chosen to stay, I'll be frank,” Zhou Yao said sternly, looking at the workers below. “It's fine that you didn't work hard before; I understand, and I won't hold you accountable for the losses. But if you don't work properly from now on, I'll deduct directly from your wages.”

“From now on, the quality of the glass products will determine the rewards you receive mid-month. All rise and fall together. If the glass sells well, you earn more; if it sells poorly, you all go back where you came from—I keep no useless people.”

“Yes!” they answered in unison. Then that different voice from the ranks appeared again: “Brother, I don't understand some of those words...”

It was that boy again. Zhou Yao understood it was nothing unusual. Some commoners were so poor they couldn't afford food, let alone private schooling. Illiterate people like him were everywhere among the folk.

After a short rest for the workers, the materials for making glass continued to be processed in an orderly manner. The difference this time was that these were materials they genuinely, from their hearts, wanted to make.

Author's note: None.