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The imperial court admired women's feet to be small, slender and straight, so many high-ranking officials and nobles practiced foot binding. Girls in the boudoir had to bind their feet from a young age so that they could wear hard-soled shoes with pointed toes.
However, no matter how much she was wrapped, she would only become slightly thinner and smaller, but not as cruel as those prostitutes who used their beauty to seduce men, who often broke bones and tendons, and had their feet wrapped into bow shapes, so that they did not walk like ordinary women.
She had seen how Ah Hong walked and knew her background, so she asked this question.
Like a cat whose tail was stepped on, Ah Hong's voice suddenly became sharp: "I don't want to go out to work, what's it to you?!"
This shout caused many people to turn around and look over. Ah Hong seemed to have noticed those gazes and immediately pursed her lips, unwilling to speak again.
Feng Jingjing looked at the sullen woman and lowered her voice slightly. "Even though I'm new here, I know the rules of the gang. Bullying women isn't allowed here, and people aren't judged by their background. If you can't do manual labor, you can probably do some writing and math. Since you can read and write, and you came from the women's camp on the island, you should know a lot of people. I think it shouldn't be difficult for you to find a job."
The anger in Ah Hong's eyes had turned to sarcasm without her noticing, and it was cold and devoid of any warmth: "What qualifications do you, a person who came from a secluded place, have to lecture me?"
Regardless of origin? Are they all suffering people? No, all the women on the island were kidnapped from good families, except for her, who was a daughter of a concubine. Others may not have their innocence damaged, but did she ever have it?
No matter how much the girl was humiliated, she deserved it. She was willing to be humiliated. But the eyes of those people never changed.
And what if she knew someone? Was she supposed to ask that little girl He Ling for help, or the gang leader? At the thought of this, Ah Hong felt a tingling sensation all over her body, as if she were being stared at by that clear, piercing gaze again. Her heart was filled with fear, shame, pain, desolation, and an inexplicable anger.
She knew how to be humble and humble, and understood that being cautious was the key to a safe life. But somehow, when facing the Red Flag Gang, she always felt pain, always annoyed, and couldn't help but say something strange, wanting to anger others. She would rather be scolded and ridiculed than have others show her pity. Even after she restrained herself, she couldn't get along with others for long, let alone be a colleague.
Since working outside made her uncomfortable, there was no need to go out. After all, painting could earn her some money. If things didn't work out, she could still do some mending or even sing in a teahouse. The Red Flag Gang strictly forbade raping someone else's wife, so even if she lived alone, she didn't have to worry. Naturally, being alone was better.
Looking at the unmoved, stone-like woman, Feng Jingjing was silent for a moment, then suddenly said, "Actually, firing porcelain isn't a woman's job. The kiln is extremely hot, and there are so many shirtless men fiddling with clay. It would be unethical for a woman to go there. I once asked the gang leader why they had to do this, and she said that women are naturally careful and steady, making them perfect for kneading clay and painting the porcelain base."
Feng Jingjing suddenly smiled and said, "So I accepted the job, and I also wanted to find a good painter like you to be my master."
Ah Hong was stunned by that almost cheerful smile. This wasn't supposed to be the case. Her husband had become a high-ranking official in the gang, on par with Mr. Tian. Why would she risk such criticism? And what had the gang leader said that had moved her? Was it just the phrase "careful and steady"?
"Do you find it strange?" Feng Jingjing didn't wait for her to answer and continued, "Because it's suitable, then naturally, it's OK. That's what the gang leader really thinks. She doesn't care about her reputation for chastity, nor does she care about other people's criticism. She just does it when she wants. Think about it, aren't all men in this world like this? If chastity were truly so important, then no one would pawn their wives, sell their daughters, or go to brothels for entertainment."
Her tone of voice didn't even change, it was so calm, but something about it struck Ah Hong, causing her to grit her teeth.
Feng Jingjing changed the subject, "Besides, porcelain is different from embroidery. No matter how well it's embroidered, it's just a piece of clothing or a screen. Where can it be displayed and how many years can it be passed down? But a piece of fine porcelain can be passed down from generation to generation. We make goods specifically for Western countries. Perhaps after crossing the ocean, it will be placed in the mansion of a prince or a high-ranking official, and be admired and admired by countless people. If we can engrave a mark on such a treasure, wouldn't it also be passed down through the ages?"
Ah Hong's lips trembled, and she laughed strangely: "Even if it was painted by a woman?"
Feng Jingjing also chuckled. "That's the good thing about being a scholar: you can praise or criticize with your mouth. If you're penniless, you're just a worthless piece of grass that everyone can trample on. If you're famous, people will naturally rush to flatter you and flock to you."
"Just like those courtesans?" Ah Hong said softly.
Feng Jingjing turned serious. "How can you make a living by relying on your own cooking skills and then seduce others with your beauty? And you're wrong about one thing. Painting and calligraphy can express one's true feelings. No matter what you say, the pen will not lie."
The painting's vividness wasn't due to the artist's exquisite craftsmanship, but rather to the artist's thoughts and feelings. Whatever her reason for learning to paint, it was now ingrained in her bones, just like the calligraphy she had painstakingly practiced.
Ah Hong's eyelids drooped, her lips pursed tightly. The woman before her wasn't He Ling, nor was she the gang leader. She was the wife of an official, a respectable and well-mannered official wife she had seen countless times when she was a concubine. Yet, when such a woman spoke, she was particularly shocked. It was as if the whole of her past, a glitz and glamour, had been completely shattered before her eyes.
Seeing that she seemed reluctant to speak, Feng Jingjing didn't wait for an answer. She just placed a few copper coins on the table and stood up. "It will probably take a long time to prepare the porcelain kiln. There's no rush. You can take your time to think about it."
After saying this, she nodded slightly and turned away. Ah Hong didn't move at all, sitting at the table like a wooden statue, letting the noise around her and the diners come and go.
…
Even though she knew the gang leader wouldn't mind, Feng Jingjing still found a time to report the personnel arrangement in person, and even took the other party's painting with her.
Cheng Xi didn't look at the painting carefully, nor did he express any doubts about the choice of the person. Instead, he asked a strange question: "Are there many women with bound feet now?"
Feng Jingjing was a little bewildered, but remembering the other woman's natural feet, she smiled and explained, "It's not that common, actually. The more powerful the officials and the more aristocratic the families, the more they like their women to have their feet bound, so that they can wear expensive shoes with pointed toes and narrow sides, which is considered respectable. For a family like mine, we consider this as seducing others with our beauty, and we strictly forbid it."
As she spoke, she lifted the hem of her skirt, revealing a pair of natural feet. After Cheng Xi had a good look, she continued, "But it's different for prostitutes. They bind their feet and break their toes, which makes their feet bow. Often, after a few years, their feet become disabled."
Cheng Xi's frown deepened: "Did Ah Hong let go of her feet?"
Feng Jingjing blinked and said hesitantly, "She should be released, otherwise she won't be able to walk normally. She lives alone now and doesn't have to please others."
If it weren't for her husband, which woman would endure the pain of binding her feet and wearing those narrow and hard shoes?
Cheng Xi continued, "If the merchants and noble families in Panyu sent their daughters here, would they bind their feet?"
Realizing she was truly serious about this, Feng Jingjing pondered for a moment before saying solemnly, "Probably not. If a girl's feet were truly bound, it wouldn't necessarily be to teach her to read and write, but rather to teach her manners and virtues. How could such a girl dare to join the Red Flag Gang? Besides, it's hot in the south, and long-term foot binding can make you sick. I've never heard of such a custom."
No wonder she had never seen a woman with bound feet. Cheng Xi let out a long sigh. Whether it was the women around her or the women she had met in Panyu and Tingzhou, she had never seen anyone with bound feet. Perhaps at that time, foot binding was still a symbol of class status and had not yet spread widely.
But even so, they couldn't just turn a blind eye. Cheng Xi thought for a moment and said, "I'll spread the word in the hospital that foot binding will cause poor blood circulation throughout the body, making labor difficult for women and fetuses stupid. I'll also have storytellers make up some jokes, saying that those who bind their daughters' feet are vain and want to sell their daughters, and those who want to marry women with bound feet are dissolute people who don't care about offspring and only want sensual pleasures. And the literati who advocate foot binding are mostly shameful people who only bully young children. Young girls have a lot of yin energy, and if they are exposed to it too much, they will become inhumane. You can teach in the cloth workshop and talk about this to the female workers in the future."
Feng Jingjing was practically dumbfounded. She hadn't expected such rhetoric. It was far more ruthless than the righteous sentiment of "one's body and hair are inherited from one's parents." Morality was no match for the importance of offspring. And the inhumane claim really hit home. If it were to spread widely, no poet would dare to write about Jinlian.
Yet, these bizarre claims did make Feng Jingjing laugh. Although she didn't have bound feet, she had close friends who did, and she'd heard their complaints. Anything that could make a virtuous lady complain in front of outsiders was unbearable, not to mention the even more devastated prostitutes.
Feng Jingjing smiled and nodded, saying, "I'll remember this. By the way, could Ah Hong use it?"
Cheng Xi looked over in surprise: "Of course, didn't you choose the person? And the painting is very good. Westerners like this kind of romantic tone the most."
Not only did she not object to the candidate, she even praised the content of the painting. Although Feng Jingjing had guessed this result early on, it was still very different when she heard it with her own ears.
She breathed a sigh of relief and said with a smile, "In that case, I'm confident in the management of this porcelain kiln. Please leave it to me with confidence, Boss."
Compared to the last time they met, she was more confident. Cheng Xi also smiled: "With Sister Feng's help, I feel much more relaxed."
It's impossible for one person alone to change the culture and address all aspects. More like-minded partners is better.
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