Chapter 18: A Star Map Hidden Within the Mink Embroidery

As soon as the steward finished speaking, Shen Guilan’s heart clenched sharply, as if someone had gripped her very soul. A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity? To dare take on another stitch? Though the words sounded like a favor, they pressed down on her like a hidden blade, suffocating and threatening.

She lowered her gaze, her lashes shadowing the sharp glint flashing briefly in her eyes. When she looked up again, she wore the same obedient, meek expression. “My humble skills are ordinary; to be favored by you, sir, is already a blessing. But may I ask… what exactly is this opportunity?”

The steward, pleased by her calmness, merely smiled faintly and withheld the truth. “Madam Shen, just know this: if this stitch is done well, wealth and honor will be yours without fail. But if it’s botched… you won’t exist in Qinghe County anymore.”

With that, he left, leaving behind a clear threat.

Shen Guilan closed the door and leaned against it, suddenly realizing that cold sweat had broken out along her temple.

What exactly did the county magistrate intend?

She took a deep breath and glanced toward the embroidery hoop in the corner—the “Plum Blossoms Reflecting Snow” pattern.

There was no more time to delay.

For the next three days and nights, she didn’t rest. Under candlelight, her fingers were rubbed raw by the needle, her eyes bloodshot. She spun the last strands of gray mink fur into fine threads and meticulously embroidered the very center of the plum blossom’s pistil, stitch by stitch.

Using a special technique, the gray mink wool shimmered faintly in the lamp’s glow—like stars scattered on the flower, yet warm to the touch.

At last, the piece was complete.

Instead of delivering it herself to the county town, she paid the “Weifeng Escort Agency” to deliver the embroidery to Yuelai Embroidery Shop.

Inside the package, besides the money and a letter for the shopkeeper, was a note bearing ten words: “This embroidery is not for ordinary customers, only for those who understand the stars.”

These words were a ruse; the true secret lay hidden within the embroidery.

At a curve of the plum branch, she had stitched an inconspicuous cryptic pattern with thread finer than a hair.

It was adapted from the pattern on Gu Changshan’s maple leaf arrow, the arrowhead pointing directly toward a hidden cave behind the Li family village’s mountain.

She was taking a gamble: if Gu Changshan was indeed the man she suspected, those behind him would surely understand this military code.

At Yuelai Embroidery Shop, after hearing the escort’s report, Shopkeeper Qian sneered as he opened the letter.

“Those who understand the stars? A country woman, what nonsense!” His eyes glittered with greed.

With the county magistrate personally overseeing this embroidery, how much profit could it bring?

He would never let such a chance slip away.

“Zhao San!” he barked.

A burly man with a face like a slab of meat hurried out from the back. “Boss, what’s the matter?”

“Take men to the Five Li Slope outside the city and ‘invite’ the Weifeng Escort Agency’s shipment back!” Qian’s gaze was ruthless. “Be quick and clean—leave no survivors!”

***

That night, the Five Li Slope was as dark as ink.

Zhao San and a dozen henchmen, wielding clubs, easily stopped the escort returning from the city.

But upon opening the box, everyone was dumbfounded.

Inside was only a crude counterfeit.

“Boss! We’ve been duped!” Zhao San scrambled back to the embroidery shop.

Qian snatched the “authentic embroidery” and unfolded it, trembling with rage.

The plum blossoms were stiff; the gray mink fur was coarse and hard, lacking any trace of starry shimmer.

It was all empty boasting!

“Shen Guilan!” he roared, pounding the table so hard the teacup overturned.

What he didn’t know was that the real “Plum Blossoms Reflecting Snow” had already been quietly handed over to the Provincial Governor’s procurement office by a vegetable seller when the escort left the city.

The true backing of Yuelai Embroidery Shop was the official government procurement channel that even the county magistrate had to curry favor with!

Seven days later, a group of dust-covered plainclothes merchants arrived in Qinghe County.

They neither stayed at inns nor dined out, making straight for Li family village, asking everyone: “Is there a seamstress here who can embroider star-patterned gray mink?”

The news spread like wildfire; the whole village soon knew.

Hearing this, Shopkeeper Qian immediately sensed opportunity.

He rushed ahead, holding the “finest” counterfeit he had paid dearly for, wearing a forced smile as he approached. “Gentlemen, you’ve come to the right place! That Shen woman works here, and the genuine embroidery is right here with me!”

The leader of the merchants was cold as iron. He took the embroidery, glanced at it once, sneered, and tossed it to the ground.

“Gray mink must be spun thrice and twisted nine times, glowing to the touch, shimmering to the eye. What you hold is dead fur. You dare say it’s genuine?” His voice was low but cut like a blade.

“Leave,” he said, then turned and asked a villager, “Where does Shen Guilan live?”

Qian paled and collapsed to the ground.

But Shen Guilan’s door was tightly shut, and despite the commotion outside, she remained as if unaware.

That midnight, a faint rustling came from the crack beneath the door.

Alert, she rose and peered closely. A scrap of coarse paper had been slipped inside.

Under the moonlight, she unfolded it, her pupils contracting sharply.

The map depicted the route from the village entrance to her home, clearly marking three traps and two hidden sentries.

Beside it, in charcoal, were two words: “Do not go out.”

The handwriting was Gu Changshan’s.

A cold shiver ran from her feet to her head.

Suddenly she understood: these so-called merchants were no buyers—they were pursuers!

They were after Gu Changshan, or rather, the secret concealed in the embroidery!

Without hesitation, she threw the original “Plum Blossoms Reflecting Snow” into the stove, burning it to ashes.

***

The firelight illuminated her calm face.

She could not await death, nor could she implicate Gu Changshan.

Taking out the last of her moss silk—a thread invisible by day but faintly glowing under specific light—she swiftly embroidered a simplified “Snow Plum” pattern.

All hidden codes, secret messages, and clues were removed, leaving only a few faint star dots embroidered with moss silk at the flower’s core.

Three days later, the same group of merchants arrived again.

This time, they knocked on her door directly.

Shen Guilan, weary and pale, held the new embroidery and spoke humbly: “Please forgive me, sirs. A few days ago, mice ruined the original, so I had to recreate it from memory. My skill is inferior; I hope you will understand.”

The leader took the embroidery, his eyes sharp as an eagle’s, scanning her face and the stitching.

He ran his fingers over the moss silk stars, lingering so long Shen Guilan’s heart nearly stopped.

“Do you know the night watch?” he suddenly asked, voice low and piercing.

Her heart jolted, but she forced a simple smile. “You jest, sir. I am but a country widow. I do not know officials, only a hunter in the mountains who saved us from the storm. Nothing more.”

He stared at her as if trying to see through her very soul.

Finally, he said nothing, pocketed the embroidery, waved his hand, and left with his men.

Only after their figures vanished at the village entrance did Shen Guilan slump against the doorframe.

That night, she lit a lamp and studied the mountain path map Gu Changshan had sent, tracing the markings with her finger.

Suddenly, her fingertip brushed a tiny carved notch beside a trap.

Leaning closer to the oil lamp, she saw four minuscule characters etched with a needle: “Seventh Team Hidden Provisions.”

So that was it.

Her fingers gently caressed the four words, tears welling in her eyes, yet a faint smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

She whispered, “You’re not running for your life. You’re waiting… waiting for someone who can catch your secret.”

***

Days later, a team of officials burst into the village, beating drums and striking gongs.

The county magistrate had sent them with a black plaque inscribed in gold: “Skillful and Wise Woman,” along with a letter requesting Shen Guilan to embroider a “Four Seasons Clear Lotus” for the county office’s main hall.

A country widow, personally honored by the magistrate and receiving official business?

The news caused a stir throughout the village.

Envy, jealousy, disbelief—all eyes fixed on her small courtyard.

Shopkeeper Qian, upon hearing this at the embroidery shop, ground his teeth in fury. “A widow, a lowly woman, and she’s caught the government’s eye!”

Meanwhile, Zhang the landlord, who had previously boasted of taking her as a concubine, was so frightened he turned pale and dared not utter a word about marriage again.

Amidst the clamor, Shen Guilan’s mother-in-law, Madam Zhang, stood at the doorway, gazing at the gleaming plaque.

Her smile was forced, her murky eyes filled only with greed and scheming.

Not far off, Uncle Shen San, the clan elder, walked slowly with hands behind his back, his wrinkled face nodding meaningfully toward Madam Zhang.