Chapter 16: Beyond the Mountains Lies a Net, The Needle’s Tip Breaks the Deadlock

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Sweat trickled down Manager Qian’s temple. That widow, Shen Guilan, actually had backing behind her! He dared not make a move. After much thought, there was only one way to completely destroy the Shen family’s paper embroidery business.

At night, the largest embroidery workshop in Qingyuan County, “Jinyun Pavilion,” was still brightly lit.

Manager Qian bent over and forced a smile at a middle-aged man in a brocade robe, wearing a jade thumb ring. “Manager Sun, Shen’s paper embroidery has already taken firm root in Qinghe County. Their new embroidery technique, low cost, focusing on children’s primer patterns, has snatched a lot of our business. Worst of all, they sell so cheaply that our high-end market is shattered! If this continues, we’ll all starve!”

Manager Sun twirled his thumb ring, eyes flashing. “A country widow—how much skill could she possibly have?”

“Not much skill, but she’s good at breaking rules!” Manager Qian lowered his voice. “I have an idea. She teaches kids to read, right? Let’s start there! Claim her ‘paper embroidery primer patterns’ imitate official embroidery manuals, violating taboos! The government fears private schools most; once accused, she won’t be able to defend herself!”

Manager Sun raised his eyes. “How to prove it?”

“If you have contacts in the prefecture, just bribe a minor clerk at the prefectural school. Use the official seal to forge an edict banning private embroidery primers, saying it undermines the legitimacy of official education. Then swiftly deliver it back to Qinghe County and post it outside the county office. That’ll seal her fate!” Manager Qian’s face hardened. “No matter how bold she is, she won’t dare oppose the government then!”

Manager Sun was silent for a moment, then nodded with a cold smile. “Good. Cut off her roots—let’s see how long she can hold on!”

Three days later, a red-sealed “Prefectural School Prohibition” appeared outside Qinghe County Office.

The news spread swiftly; overnight, the entire region knew.

Villagers who had previously rushed to place orders came back to cancel.

“Guilan, it’s not that we don’t trust you, but this is official government writing—we can’t mess with that.”

“Yes, schooling children is serious. If we get on the wrong side of the government, it could ruin us for life.”

Within hours, all orders were withdrawn.

Shen Guilan looked at the empty house and her daughter’s fearful eyes, her heart turning cold.

She refused to believe it!

She earned her living by her craft and had broken no laws!

She entrusted her daughter to a neighbor, clutched the document rubbings tightly, and gritted her teeth as she headed to the county school.

The instructor refused to see her, sending a servant boy instead: “Do you, a village woman, dare to question official documents? Leave now and don’t cause trouble.”

Her last glimmer of hope was gone.

She staggered back toward the village, mind blank.

Suddenly, several men burst from the woods, led by Qian’s henchman Zhao San.

Zhao San blocked her path, grinning cruelly. “Oh, the great literary widow Shen? Went to complain? Let me tell you, literacy is a crime! You’re a restless widow, teaching children to read? Planning rebellion?”

A few ruffians closed in, shouting obscenities.

Shen Guilan’s face paled, fists clenched as she retreated, only to find a cliff behind her, no escape.

At that moment, with a whoosh, a shadow shot out from the trees!

It wasn’t an arrow, but a grappling claw tied to a rope.

The claw sliced through Zhao San’s belt; the rope wrapped around a thick tree branch.

Zhao San’s trousers slid down; he was hoisted up, dangling upside down, struggling in embarrassment.

The ruffians were dumbstruck.

They turned toward the forest, where a tall figure emerged—Gu Changshan.

He held a powerful bow, face cold, eyes like ice.

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“Leave.”

One word, emotionless, yet suffocating.

The ruffians fled down the mountain in panic, forgetting even Zhao San.

Gu Changshan didn’t look at Shen Guilan, only said coldly, “Take the back path.”

With that, he leapt and disappeared into the woods.

Shen Guilan leaned against the cliff, gasping, her mind suddenly clear.

She lowered her eyes to the document rubbing.

Zhao San’s words struck a chord—Prefectural School, official seal...

Her fingers touched the red seal.

It was off-center, the edges blurred.

Looking at the character for “prohibition,” the ink was newer and heavier!

It was fake!

She realized:

They dared to forge because they knew she was just a widow, with no backing, no courage to resist!

A fire ignited in Shen Guilan’s eyes.

She didn’t take the back path but ran to the village head’s house.

Village head Shen Dewang was smoking; hearing her purpose, his pipe dropped. “Are you mad? Questioning government documents? That’s a death sentence!”

“Uncle!” Shen Guilan knelt, voice low but firm. “This isn’t just my fight! The document bans ‘private embroidery primers’—it slaps the Shen family’s face! Our women teach children embroidery, a good thing, now called subversion. The government silences us without evidence, insulting the whole clan! You’re the clan elder—can you watch our ancestors’ honor trampled?”

Shen Dewang’s expression changed but he hesitated.

Shen Guilan knew reason alone wouldn’t work.

She looked up. “If you, as clan elder, confront the county magistrate face to face, I will embroider ten ancestral teaching screens myself and donate them to the ancestral hall for free.”

Ten ancestral teaching screens!

Shen Dewang’s heart trembled.

This was both an honor and a chance to be recorded in the clan genealogy.

His back straightened.

The next day, Shen Dewang dressed neatly, carrying the genealogy. Accompanied by clan members, he beat drums to cry injustice and publicly confronted the county magistrate.

The magistrate originally wished to ignore it but dared not, as it involved the clan’s reputation and forged documents.

He immediately dispatched messengers to the prefecture for verification.

The result came swiftly: the prefectural school had never issued such a prohibition!

The magistrate was furious and ordered a thorough investigation. Though Jinyun Pavilion was not found, Manager Qian was put under close watch.

Shen Guilan seized the opportunity, spending all her savings to commission hundreds of “Open Letter to the People of Qinghe,” posted all over town.

It read: “Paper can be embroidered, people can be taught, women can stand tall. The Shen family seeks no official approval, only justice—who says village women’s needlework cannot produce volumes of knowledge?”

These words struck like thunder, resonating deeply with the people.

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A widow, refusing to bow under oppression, fighting for her children, herself, and all women!

People were moved.

All canceled orders returned, and new ones came flying in like snowflakes.

That night, Shen Guilan worked under the lamp when the courtyard door opened.

Gu Changshan entered, his left shoulder torn, coarse cloth wrapped around the wound, blood still seeping through.

“You’re hurt?” Shen Guilan gasped.

Gu Changshan shook his head, tossing a heavy object onto the stone table.

It was a broken iron chain; the end bore two characters—“Night Patrol Guard.”

Shen Guilan’s breath caught.

The Night Patrol Guard were government officers—how did their chain end up in his hand?

He had crossed the government’s men last night?

She looked up to meet Gu Changshan’s gaze.

His voice was hoarse: “They’ve started investigating you too.”

Those words struck like thunder.

Not only merchants, but even the government was watching her.

This path was far more perilous than she imagined.

Silence spread.

After a long while, Shen Guilan entered the house, took out medicine and bandages.

She did not ask, gently unwrapped his wound, cleaned it, and dressed it anew.

Her movements were light and steady.

When finished, she took scissors and, under the lamplight, cut a lock of hair, sewing it quietly into the lining of a newly made wrist guard.

She handed him the wrist guard softly, saying, “From today on, my embroidery workshop won’t be called ‘Shen’s’—it will be ‘Guilan.’ This is my own path.”

She looked at him, eyes resolute. “I will walk part of your path for you; you don’t have to guard your mountain alone anymore.”

Moonlight fell on Gu Changshan’s face.

He looked down at the wrist guard; his fingers touched the soft lock within.

Slowly, he clenched his fist, warmth spreading from his palm to his heart.

At last, he nodded.

Success was but a faint warmth, supporting him against the encroaching cold.

Gu Changshan vanished into the night, and Shen Guilan looked up to see the moon hidden behind dark clouds.

The wind grew colder...