The bright moon had risen high, hanging atop the Maritime Customs’ clock tower like a giant electric lamp.

The corridors of the Imperial Maritime Customs building were tall and solemn, with marble columns on both sides and coffee-colored floor tiles that made leather shoes click with each step.

Brass Baroque wall lamps cast regular fan-shaped beams of light. Under these beams, two figures, one tall and one short, walked side by side, stepping through the streams of light and casting long shadows.

Hede remained silent for a long time, perhaps contemplating and reviewing that brilliant discussion, or perhaps developing new ideas of his own. The expression in his eyes was inscrutable, changing somewhat capriciously.

There was a door partway down the long corridor, which he casually pushed open, saying: “Please.”

Lin Yuchan’s ears grew warm, feeling like she was stealing fame under pretenses. After all, she had only picked up some mud dropped from history’s wheels, barely managing to survive a few more episodes in this world, hardly gifted with exceptional talent.

Moreover, she didn’t think she could turn the tide in military and national affairs—tonight, she had simply displayed abilities beyond her outward appearance, nothing more.

The Chinese guards on night duty were slack-jawed. The distinguished foreign leader of Guangdong Maritime Customs was walking alongside a young Chinese widow, and in such an elegant escorting manner!

Of course, foreigners being “pro-women and anti-men” (by Qing standards) was well known, but their gentlemanly demeanor was usually reserved for women of their own country. Whenever foreigners in the concessions held balls and receptions, watching those big-breasted, thin-waisted foreign women with exposed décolletage, drunk and basking in adoration, observing Chinese would invariably shake their heads, lamenting that such shameless women existed in the world.

But for a Chinese woman to be so thick-skinned, not consciously avoiding suspicion or taking small steps three paces behind the official—no wonder everyone mentally shook their heads: so ill-bred, no wonder foreigners look down on Chinese people. Social morals have been corrupted by these women who curry favor with the powerful.

Lin Yuchan felt her shoulders prickling inexplicably, only then noticing that others looked at her with very complex expressions, like looking at a sparrow clinging to a phoenix.

For a moment, she couldn’t distinguish whether it was envy or contempt.

Under these ambiguous gazes, she began to doubt herself somewhat. She wondered inexplicably whether Mr. Hede might have some ulterior motives toward her.

After all, foreign gentlemen weren’t picky about food—some even married small-footed concubines.

“Not likely,” she thought. “That’s a stereotype.”

Foreigners were human too, with vastly different personalities. Half a year ago, Hede had called her a little swindler. Today’s preferential treatment—in his eyes, she was probably just a somewhat talented orphan from the fog, nothing more.

She tried to straighten her back and keep pace with his stride, her height only reaching his shoulder, like a child.

“Miss Lin,” Hede suddenly sighed softly, “what a pity you’re not a man.”

Lin Yuchan: “?”

Did Britain become corrupt this early?

“Otherwise, I could promote you exceptionally to clerk, even commercial commissioner,” Hede said. “Have you led dozens of Chinese employees, stuff some fresh ideas into their antiquated minds. God knows how exhausting it is to instill logic and common sense in them from scratch—it makes me want to take a ship home every time.”

“Oh? Women can’t do it?” Lin Yuchan wasn’t surprised at all. “Is this another Qing government regulation?”

Hede laughed: “This is a universal rule. How could ladies do such tiring work?”

Lin Yuchan thought helplessly: “Limitations.”

The Qing Dynasty’s traditional skill of oppressing women, foreigners wasn’t necessarily much more advanced. Though Western women seemed to have much freedom and men appeared gentlemanly and respectful toward women, it was actually because they had money. With money came the ability to be liberal and generous, the confidence to care for the weak, very normal.

In the foreign-dominated Maritime Customs, gender equality was already far ahead of the outside world, but in Lin Yuchan’s eyes, it could only be considered barely satisfactory, worth an encouragement award.

She didn’t engage in pointless arguments, only expressed her disappointment clearly: “You’ll miss out on much talent.”

Hede smiled: “That’s a result I don’t want to see. So, if you’re willing to further utilize your talents, I’d be happy to hire you as… well, the Maritime Customs doesn’t have this position, but in my capacity, I’d like you to be my advisor. As for compensation, it won’t be less than the aforementioned positions. You also won’t have to live in the crowded women’s dormitory anymore—the Maritime Customs has a small courtyard for expatriate families, just built, with a daily hot water supply and plenty of empty rooms.”

Lin Yuchan involuntarily stopped walking, hardly believing it.

“Thank you for your regard, but…”

She calmed herself and asked: “What would the job entail?”

“Assisting with official business, helping me formulate new Maritime Customs regulations.” He listed without hesitation. “Also, since you’re a woman, you could handle some matters that male staff can’t manage—for instance, representing me at necessary social functions. You’re articulate and could help me deal with local officials’ wives and such. I’m unmarried and need a female companion for many occasions… I’m Irish and belong to the Methodist denomination—everyone knows my private life is strict, so it won’t affect your reputation. I can arrange a tutor to help you learn necessary skills—dress, makeup, dancing, tea ceremony—it won’t take long. With your intelligence, you could outperform most English girls in a week or two.

“Your actions during the maritime disaster proved you have a noble soul.” He suddenly remembered a scene in the Guangzhou church and smiled slightly. “I don’t require you to convert, but you should read the Bible so you’ll have something to discuss with people.”

His words were sincere, with a kind and pleasant light shining in his green eyes.

Lin Yuchan couldn’t help turning her face away, breathing with some difficulty, feeling for a moment like she was dreaming.

Expensive fireplaces were embedded in the corridor walls, warm flames dispelling the Bund’s chill and causing sweat to bead at her temples. The crackling of burning wood sounded like light musical notes, and faint smoke snaked away, gradually becoming transparent.

Half a year ago, she had been a corpse in a mass grave, sold by an opium-smoking father, kicked and beaten by thugs in tea shops, only worthy of drinking gruel mixed with saliva.

Who could have imagined that on the same piece of land, the same person could live such a different life?

Her nose gradually grew sour, and she inexplicably wanted to cry.

Seeing her silence with such an interesting expression, Hede assumed she was stunned by this generous package and laughed aloud.

He pulled a business card from his wallet: “Mrs. Scott is a tailor I know well—her husband is a cobbler. This is her address. Go to her for two sets of Western dress, charge it to my account. Stop wearing these stiff, constricting old jackets and skirts.”

He glanced at the wooden-faced guards on both sides. “Believe me, when they see you appear at the Maritime Customs in ladylike attire, they’ll never dare look down on you again—they’ll only respect you more.”

Lin Yuchan bit her lip hard. She knew this seemed very rude, but she couldn’t help it.

“Mr. Hede, thank you for… promoting me and allowing me to join the ranks of high-class Chinese.”

“Hmm?” Hede had never heard this last term and didn’t catch her faint sarcasm, instead finding it interesting. “You are different from most Chinese.”

Lin Yuchan suddenly noticed that when he took out the tailor’s business card, another card was accidentally pulled out and fell to the floor.

She bent to pick it up—the business card was wrinkled, with several lines of English clearly visible.

Yung Wing

Bachelor of Arts, 1854, Yale College, Connecticut

…

She burst out laughing, and the few tears in her eyes instantly disappeared.

“Do you know this person?”

“Rong Hong,” Hede casually took back the business card, crumpled it into a ball, and tossed it into the fireplace. “Applied to the Maritime Customs, but I don’t trust Americans.”

In the eyes of the old imperial power, probably only Oxford and Cambridge counted—what kind of third-rate university was Yale?

Hede: “Seems you know him too. Then please let him know he doesn’t need to wait for a second interview notice.”

Lin Yuchan nodded. “Will do.”

Hede noticed she hadn’t taken the tailor’s business card.

“Don’t forget…”

Lin Yuchan merely glanced at the address on the card, then looked up and said very sincerely: “Sir, you honor me, but my answer to your proposal is ‘no.'”

It wasn’t the first time she’d been difficult anyway. She was decisive, not giving herself a chance to regret.

Hede’s smile bloomed. “I like your aggressiveness. However, there’s no such thing as salary negotiation in my Maritime Customs. The offer I’m giving you is the most generous.”

“It’s a real no,” Lin Yuchan said apologetically. “I’m still willing to take my current salary and do my current assigned work. If you think you’ve raised my pay too much, you can lower it back.”

Hede was greatly puzzled: “What, are you worried your family won’t agree?—But that’s not right, you said you’re an orphan.”

Lin Yuchan had to confirm again: “It’s I who’s unwilling.”

Hede was stunned, finally saying after a long pause: “Perhaps you could explain…”

Lin Yuchan shook her head helplessly.

The gap of two centuries was too difficult to explain clearly.

If Hede had been born a hundred years later, similarly learning Chinese to come to China and finding work as a foreign teacher at a middle school in Guangzhou, she might have enjoyed playing with him.

If it were the 21st century and she encountered such a boss while job hunting at a foreign company, she’d probably laugh in her dreams.

But now…

He didn’t intentionally slight or insult her, yet some invisible shackles had been firmly locked around him from the moment of his birth. He had taken root in China at nineteen, loved this country that allowed him to achieve great things, yet he had never truly set foot on this land.

The long corridor finally reached its end. Hede said one last time: “I know this sounds like a threat, but I sincerely advise you—refusing me today, you’ll regret it. Go back and think it over. I’m meeting Li Hongzhang tomorrow, and afterward I might go to Beijing. Regardless of the outcome, your temporary employment contract will end at year’s end.”

He pushed open the Imperial Maritime Customs door, and cold wind from the Huangpu River hit their faces.

“Ladies first,” he smiled.

“When in Rome, do as Romans do.” Lin Yuchan stood still, feeling completely relaxed. “I wish you all the best tomorrow.”

Lin Yuchan still had a tailor make her several new outfits—a Chinese tailor with low rates, making jackets and skirts common among the civilian class, cheap azure Zhejiang cloth in low-key styles, only with extra instructions to add several pockets to the skirt. The total cost was just over two silver dollars.

She saved every bit of money she earned, spending freely only on nutrition and personal hygiene while economizing elsewhere.

But new clothes were now necessary because her figure was changing too rapidly.

The original Lin Ba’mei was like a thin, weak bean sprout who seemed like she’d break a bone if bumped, but young bodies contained infinite vitality. After half a year of balanced, regular meals, she was making up for lost time with crazy development.

She had wondered before why, when she ran errands and did rough work in Guangzhou, she moved freely like the wind, but in Shanghai, when she took slightly larger steps while walking, she constantly felt her trouser legs tightening.

She thought the clothes had been damaged by seawater. Only when Hede tactfully reminded her that her clothes didn’t fit did she suddenly realize—she had grown taller!

Not only taller, but her cheeks had filled out, her shoulders rounded, and the curves of her chest and back were finally different. Even the little thugs outside the City God Temple had noticed—when she walked the streets alone, she’d been cat-called more than once with “What a pity her feet are so big!”

The bigger the better, Lin Yuchan thought—I could kick you to death.

Of course, limited by congenital deficiencies, she was still somewhat thin, but compared to before, she was like a completely different person.

Wearing her first new outfit in the Qing Dynasty, Lin Yuchan found time to go deep into Saigon Road in the French Concession and energetically knocked on the door of Boya Trading House.