Suddenly, he raised his hand, brought his fingertips close to her profile, and gently pressed them against her cheek.

Sun Miao'er was caught off guard by his sudden intimate gesture, and her face flushed red.

He applied rouge to her face, rubbed it between his palms, and slowly blended it. The red of the rouge covered the blush that suddenly rose on the woman's face due to shyness. The two shades of red blended together, making it difficult to distinguish between them.

"Yes, it really suits you." His hand moved down from her temple, carefully examining his masterpiece, and he nodded with satisfaction.

Sun Miao'er noticed her breathing becoming increasingly rapid. She quickly turned around, lowered her head, and walked away briskly. At this moment, everything she said seemed to have an element of concealment.

After crossing this wide road, you will reach the village where households live together. In the courtyards in front of almost every household, silkworms that have been reeled are drying.

"Auntie, do you sell your silk?"

Sun Miao'er walked to the door of a house where silkworms were drying in the sun, and the quality of the silk looked better than that of the neighboring houses.

The auntie who was working in the yard saw Sun Miao'er and walked to the fence. "Miss, I'm sorry, all of our silk has been pre-ordered and we don't sell it individually."

"How about this? I'll pay more." Sun Miao'er tried to sway the woman's heart with money.

She knew the rules here: most families raised silkworms and reeled silk themselves, then sold it to their regular suppliers at a designated time, just like paying rent to tenants.

If you secretly sell to others and don't deliver enough silk to your supplier, you'll lose your integrity, and in the long run, it will be difficult to find merchants willing to cooperate.

Therefore, not selling in small quantities or in individual lots is an unspoken rule in this industry.

The woman's gaze swept back and forth between the two of them, then she looked around warily. Seeing that no one else was around, she whispered, "Come in and talk."

Sun Miao'er entered the woman's house, where there were two reeling machines and a spinning wheel, all of which were quite old.

An old woman was reeling silk in front of the silk reeling machine, seemingly indifferent to their conversation.

The woman poured two cups of hot tea and said with a smile, "This is my mother-in-law. She's old and hard of hearing."

"How should I address you, Auntie?" Seeing that things were looking promising, Sun Miao'er became even more friendly.

The woman replied, "My husband's surname is Sun."

"Aunt Sun, we'd like to buy some silk from your house," Sun Miao'er stated her purpose, now it was time to see the woman's reaction.

The woman surnamed Sun sat down in front of the reeling machine, her expression calm, and asked, "How much do you want?"

"Ten taels."

The woman's previous calm demeanor vanished, replaced by surprise. She knew that ten taels of silk was no small sum, and she said bluntly, "Miss, it's not that I don't want to sell it to you, but I'm sure you know the rules of the trade. If I sell you ten taels of raw silk, where am I supposed to find ten taels to replenish my supplier's supply?"

Sun Miao'er knew this would be difficult, but to make a garment, ten taels was a sure thing. If it was less, there would be no time to make up for it at the last minute. Preparing more was the safest way.

The quality of silk varies from household to household. If you try to find a good match by piecing together different types of silk, the finished product will definitely not be satisfactory. In order to ensure quality, you can only choose to ship to a fixed supplier.

Sun Miao'er walked to the table next to her, where there were also neatly arranged silk threads. She touched them and found that although the silk threads looked the same on the surface, they felt very different. "Aunt Sun, are these two kinds of silk?"

“It’s raw silk and cooked silk,” the woman replied.

It turns out there's more to silk than meets the eye. Sun Miao'er hadn't known before, and now she was even more eager to find out, "What's the difference between the two?"

The woman skillfully reeled the silk, her hands moving swiftly, and explained, "Raw silk is what I'm doing now; it's made directly from silkworm cocoons using a reeling machine. Cooked silk is made by boiling raw silk in water with pig pancreas to remove the oil, and then drying it in the sun."

"Raw silk fabrics are easy to shape and stiff, while cooked silk is lighter, smoother, and more comfortable against the skin. Raw silk is prone to fading after dyeing, while cooked silk is much better. These two have different uses, so it depends on what you want to use them for."

After listening to the woman's explanation, Sun Miao'er realized that there were many intricacies involved. However, she was unsure whether Xiangyun yarn was made of spun or raw silk. If she chose raw silk, she would need to undergo a color-fixing treatment.

However, considering that cooked silk is not malleable and would certainly not achieve the desired effect when used to make clothing, Sun Miao'er replied firmly: "Raw silk, I want raw silk!"

"I'll give you ten taels of silver for every ten taels of raw silk."

Worried that the woman might change her mind, Sun Miao'er quickly revealed her bottom line.

It should be known that ten taels of silver for ten taels of silk is already considered an astronomical price in the industry, but these ten taels of silver are probably nothing to the Wang family.

The woman was startled when she heard the price. She knew that the supplier would only charge 500 coins for a tael or two of silk, but this girl was offering double the price. How could she not be tempted?

The quality of her family's silk was much higher than that of other families in the village, but the supplier did not raise the price for them because of this. They had previously offered to raise the price by fifty coins for every tael of silk, but it was rejected. Now someone was offering one tael of silver to buy one tael of silk, something she would never have dared to dream of before.

Seeing that the woman seemed to be wavering, Sun Miao'er added, "If you can gather ten taels of raw silk for me, I can give you another tael. However, there is a condition: all ten taels of raw silk must be from your family. You can't try to pass off other people's goods as genuine."

The woman couldn't resist the temptation of the silver tael and gritted her teeth, agreeing, "Alright, come and collect it tomorrow, bring the silver with you."

"By the way, Aunt Sun, I'd like to ask you about a type of fabric called white silk yarn. Have you heard of it?" Sun Miao'er noticed the old woman reeling silk; she looked to be around sixty or seventy years old. Perhaps she could find some clues here.

The woman paused for a moment, then seemed to know something. "White raw yarn? I've never heard of it before."

It seems Wei Rongchang wasn't lying; the younger generation probably hadn't even heard of white cotton yarn. "Could I ask this old lady?"

"Okay, but she's very hard of hearing, so speak louder."

Sun Miao'er walked up behind the old woman and called out, "Grandma!"

After calling her several times, the old woman slowly turned around. Her cloudy eyes were sunken in their sockets, her face was covered with wrinkles, and her hair was completely white.

"Huh?" The old woman replied loudly because she was hard of hearing.

It nearly startled Sun Miao'er.

She raised her voice and continued, "Have you heard of white raw yarn?"

"White? White what?"

"White raw yarn!"

Sun Miao'er shouted until her voice was almost broken, calling out several times before stopping when she saw the old woman nod.

The old woman moved very slowly, and even standing up from the silk reeling machine was difficult for her; her hunched figure was severely hunched.

She walked out of the house with her cane and went into the small mud house next door.

A short while later, the old woman came out from inside, holding a stack of papers in her hands.

As the old woman drew closer, Sun Miao'er could see clearly what the woman was holding. It was less like paper and more like tattered pages of a book, bound together in a loose, untied bundle due to its age; the cotton thread had broken.