“Chinese suing foreigners, wives suing husbands… Look at this, the world is going downhill, people’s hearts are no longer pure, even the foreigners can’t stand watching it. A’Mei, you’re stirring up a hornet’s nest.”
In the gently swaying ship cabin, Su Minguan tossed aside a newspaper and looked at her with feigned displeasure.
The two thousand taels of silver that had come into her hands and then flown away again, though she was unwilling to publicize this embarrassing affair, still reached Su Minguan’s ears within a few days. Bracing herself for his sarcasm and mockery, she lifted her head with a death-defying resolve and answered solemnly: “I just want to recover the investment that rightfully belongs to me.”
Su Minguan looked at her deeply. This girl of extraordinary resilience – no matter how painfully society beat her down, even if she were slapped straight into the King of Hell’s palace, she could dig into the earth right where she fell, slowly push herself upward, and finally poke out her disheveled little head to take root and sprout anew.
If it were him facing such robbery, he might have gone straight to their door with a gun. But her? She had her style. Civilized, elegant, seemingly fragile, yet hiding her ambition and fangs behind… just like the foreigners.
Su Minguan couldn’t help but touch her temple, stroking that soft little face. Those teeth of hers could bite quite painfully, too.
Lin Yuchan laughed at him: “Oh my, you still have money to subscribe to newspapers?”
The price war among foreign shipping merchants had been going on for several months, and only four Chinese shipping companies remained struggling to survive. These four companies allied in mutual support, and the foreign merchants couldn’t crush them immediately.
Everyone knew this price-cutting strategy killed a thousand enemies while losing eight hundred of one’s own. The foreign trading houses, acting like charities, had let Shanghai’s merchants and citizens enjoy several months of ten-percent discount ship tickets, but surely they too would soon be unable to hold on?
Unexpectedly, their cash flow seemed nearly inexhaustible. Foreign banks opened every convenience along the way, continuously channeling the wealth that Western powers had plundered from other colonies to this small “battlefield.”
Several Chinese shipping companies sought help from ancient wisdom, sending people to lobby and trying to split up the alliance of foreign trading houses. But their alliance was based on black-and-white contracts – breaking them meant paying huge penalties, and the Western powers constrained each other, none daring to tear up agreements lightly.
Chinese shipping’s customer base was hemorrhaging rapidly. Even government officials on official business trips gradually began choosing foreign shipping, paying ten or twenty percent of the price while claiming full-price reimbursements, delighting in the savings.
Su Minguan could only respond to each move as it came, reforming routes, having people simplify the ticket-buying procedures for Chinese passengers, holding pre-departure prayers to the gods, setting up merit boxes for coin offerings at the bow, equipping all passenger ships with kitchens, stoves, and tea leaves so passengers could drink hot tea anytime. Additionally, ships were staffed with interpreters and clerks to help passengers conduct foreign negotiations and handle complex procedures…
Thanks to these various conveniences catering to Chinese people, they managed to retain an extremely small number of loyal customers.
As for his series of grand ambitions to purchase ships, buy land, and expand business, those had to be temporarily shelved.
Lin Yuchan asked softly, “Subscribing to the Chinese Shanghai News would be enough. People can read newspapers on board as entertainment. The North China Herald is so expensive and in English – there’s no need to stock it on ships…”
Su Minguan opened to a page in the newspaper, smiling enigmatically.
“I can have someone explain the foreigners’ articles, tell stories to entertain everyone.”
The opened page showed half the layout filled with flowing text, headlined: “Mixed Marriages: Sweet Orange or Bitter Fruit? What Made a Gentle Chinese Woman Find the Courage to Face Her Beloved Husband in Court?”
The byline read the famous E.C. Bennett.
After movingly narrating the plight of that poor Chinese wife in a touching, intimate style, this rising star freelance journalist expressed that he would personally step forward to help the kind Mrs. Macartney recover her rightful share of dowry. The lawsuit had been entrusted to someone to file with the British Consular Court, asking all readers to await good news.
“You came up with the headline, didn’t you?” Su Minguan suppressed his laughter. “That young lady definitely couldn’t think up such sensational language.”
Lin Yuchan gasped, “How do you know this time it’s also her…”
Miss Compton’s secret involvement hadn’t been told to him!
Su Minguan looked at her helplessly and got up to hang the newspaper back in its place.
Such an obvious thing… only Miss Compton herself thought it could be kept secret forever.
Lin Yuchan looked at that flowery press release and nodded in admission that she had indeed contributed many sensational ideas.
She said sheepishly: “You’re going to tell this story as entertainment on the ship?”
Su Minguan smiled: “Don’t you want to get your money back sooner?”
The strategy Lin Yuchan and Miss Compton had devised was to make as much noise as possible, get all of Shanghai’s citizens to pay attention to this case, pressure the consulate, hoping for an early court date.
Otherwise, like Chinese government offices that could drag a case out for a year and a half, she couldn’t afford to wait.
Lin Yuchan, having her intentions exposed, knew he was secretly helping and asked frankly: “How’s the response?”
“Not good.” Su Minguan worriedly counted on his fingers. “Three couples traveling by boat have already fought halfway through their journey and gone home to squabble over dowries. I feel deeply sinful.”
Lin Yuchan giggled softly.
The British Consular Court handled lawsuits among foreigners. Though it had a grand-sounding name, its foundation wasn’t large – it received only a handful of cases each year, basically just labor disputes, petty theft, smuggling, bankruptcies, drunken brawls, and such minor matters.
This lawsuit involved a married couple. Though the case itself was quite proper, for nineteenth-century people, whether Chinese or foreign, it was a rare annual scandal.
Once E.C. Bennett’s manifesto was published, it spread throughout the foreign settlement and Chinese quarters. The front gate of the Macartney residence had curious crowds passing by and gathering to watch every day, trying to glimpse something. They didn’t even know what they wanted to see – sometimes spotting the officially-robed Ma Qingchen, sometimes catching sight of the tall, spirited Mrs. Ma, or even just seeing a dog from the household could give the gossip-hungry crowd great satisfaction.
Under such public pressure, the British Consular Court should pay attention to this case and reach a quick decision.
A steam whistle sounded from the river. A foreign trading house’s proud steamship swaggered past this small ferry from Shanghai to Wusong, its waves surging over and pushing the ferry left and right, then crashing into broken ships by the riverbank with several clanging sounds.
Steel had eliminated sails and wood. Chinese shipping companies were closing in droves, and scrapped sand junks floated along both banks of the river.
These massive sand junks that once sailed freely through China’s waterways, these heroes that had transported grain tribute north year after year, keeping the entire empire from starvation, now lay like corpses, bearing the twilight breath of the entire industry, scattered among the reeds, left to rot in the wind.
Su Minguan stepped outside the cabin, using an oar to push aside the decaying driftwood.
“Miss Lin, I take back my previous attitude.” His voice echoed among the reeds with a moist quality. “If you really can get your money back, that tea-making steam engine of yours is still worth trying.”
Lin Yuchan stared at his back and gave a small snort.
Though for Boss Su, going back on his word was an everyday occurrence, his willingness to take back his investment opinions amounted to a small apology, more or less.
“There’s not even a hint of success yet.” She said. “Maybe I’ll lose the case. Maybe the legal fees will be several thousand taels of silver.”
Su Minguan turned his head, seeing her grudge-holding little cold smile, and couldn’t help but grin.
She had dug such a huge pit and looked ready to fall flat on her face, yet she could climb out step by step from places others never expected.
Lose the case, then lose it – she dared use the foreigners’ rules to go head-to-head with foreigners. With that courage, she wouldn’t have trouble raising two thousand taels of silver.
The young woman was spirited, but the red bloodshot in her eyes was visible. These days, she must have been burning the midnight oil every night, cramming foreign legal knowledge.
“You still need to get enough sleep.” He offered this out-of-the-blue concern, then immediately added: “After the tea goes into mass production, I can place orders.”
Lin Yuchan’s expression softened by seventy percent, the corners of her mouth involuntarily turning up, but then she put on a stern face and said: “Wait until you have money to talk about it.”
Struggling through the graveyard of sand junks, the waterway ahead opened up. Wusong Battery loomed in the distance.
Previously there had been no ferry route from the city to Wusong – people could only charter boats themselves. Now Yixing had also opened these short-distance grassroots routes, allowing cotton-growing farmers in the Wusong area to travel quickly to and from the city.
Su Minguan extended his hand: “A’Mei.”
Lin Yuchan didn’t understand: “Getting off already? Isn’t target practice at the battery—”
“Target practice this afternoon.” He took her hand and nimbly helped her off the boat, waving goodbye to Yixing’s boatmen. “To enter the foreigners’ court, though you don’t need to kowtow or bow, and won’t be beaten with boards or intimidation sticks, there are still many unspoken rules. Several merchants from Hankou who once sued Smith with me at the Hankou consulate happen to be making a short stop in Wusong today. I’ll host them for a meal in the county seat. We’ve all been in foreign courts and know some of the traps and pitfalls – maybe we can help. A’Mei, would you honor us with your presence?”
A week later, the dowry case of Mrs. Macartney versus Mr. Macartney opened as scheduled at the British Consular Court.
This court had no separate office building – the trial was held in a borrowed room inside the British Consulate. Usually empty, the room was now packed, with dozens of chairs hastily gathered from various places – Chinese rattan chairs, European sofas, small stools, bamboo mats – mismatched and arranged together, still unable to accommodate all the foreign residents who came to observe.
The usually orderly entrance to the British Consulate was now haphazardly filled with carriages. Some residents, seeing the traffic jam, simply switched to Chinese sedan chairs and wheelbarrows, threading through the gaps between carriages like fish, making the already congested street completely jammed.
Trading house employees, sailors, pilots, ladies and misses, missionaries, clerks, foreign instructors from the Guangfangyan Institute, even Municipal Council civil servants…
The British Consulate’s Christmas banquet last year hadn’t drawn so many people.
The consulate guard shouted themselves hoarse maintaining order and temporarily called in several constables. Inspector Crawford personally took charge, wearing a stern expression and loudly calling: “Order! Order!”
Facts proved that when foreigners watched excitement, their level of investment was no less than Chinese people.
Who could blame them when this case, before even opening, had already caused a citywide sensation? When E.C. Bennett publicly challenged, Ma Qingchen was inspecting the new factory area of the Foreign Cannon Works and hadn’t read newspapers for several days. By the time he returned home, the situation had already fermented – even his cook was winking at him with obvious schadenfreude.
Ma Qingchen read the newspaper, and both his neat mustaches bristled with anger.
Since ancient times, a wife’s dowry belonged to her husband – how could such boring people make articles about such common sense!
The key was getting his own wife’s tacit consent!
Wife suing husband – she really could think of such a thing!
He wanted to question Gao Dewen, but she had long since moved to separate quarters – Ma Qingchen, learning from the excellent traditions of Qing officials, had acquired several large residences for social entertaining and could also live in different ones for winter warmth and summer coolness. The official’s wife moving to another residence for recuperation was also quite common – husband and wife squeezing together on one kang every day without separation was something only common people did.
Ma Qingchen, furious, immediately also took up his brush and published a response in the newspaper, citing countless traditional rules and British legal provisions, stating that using his wife’s dowry was a husband’s natural and inviolable right, and that a wife suing her husband, whether in Britain or the Qing Dynasty, was itself an immoral act violating the law. He asked Mr. E.C. Bennett to rein in at the precipice, or else face a loss of dignity, and let it not be said he hadn’t been warned.
The North China Herald was delighted to have both parties fight their war of words in their newspaper and immediately published it in full.
E.C. Bennett also responded immediately: “It is not your wife suing her husband, but rather a gentleman with a sense of justice who has no interest relationship with her, asking Mr. Macartney for an explanation in his name… Since Mr. Macartney so resolutely believes his actions are flawless, then – see you in court.”
The settlement rarely had such delightful husband-wife feuds, and for a time, the afternoon tea tables of various ladies and misses were filled with interesting new conversation topics.
How did this Chinese wife meet her husband? How did her husband court her? How was their wedding conducted? What language do they speak at home? Would she, like other Chinese wives, take concubines for her British husband? Would she let her husband see her feet? Would she, following Chinese custom, drown their future daughters? And most crucially – what was her relationship with that Mr. E.C. Bennett?
Boya’s small Western-style building quickly resumed afternoon tea service. Led by Miss Compton, a group of foreign girlfriends, though more than half had family changes and tightened allowances, still couldn’t resist their curiosity for secrets and gathered together again, instructing Lin Yuchan:
“Luna, prepare fewer exquisite pastries – black tea and fruit are enough. We’re controlling our weight lately…”
They were strapped for cash.
Lin Yuchan suppressed her laughter and agreed, cutting each of them a plate of seasonal watermelon.
“Eat your fill, eat freely – my treat!”
Never shortchange gossip – everyone chattered excitedly.
Miss Compton desperately held back laughter while seriously joining in denouncing stinking men.
She didn’t forget to clarify: “Mr. Bennett is purely acting out of righteous indignation – he has no relationship beyond friendship with that Chinese wife!”
…
Not only in the settlement, but even the Chinese quarters, which rarely cared about foreigners’ domestic affairs, began discussing this international gossip. The reason was that several major Chinese shipping companies, competing for customers and following trends, had been explaining to foreign newspapers that passenger ships were to entertain the masses. The “Ma Qingchen dowry case” naturally became star material. After all, it was just marital affairs with no cultural barriers – even children could understand. Passengers listened from Puxi to Pudong, from Ningbo to Wuxi, from Hangzhou Bay to Suzhou Creek, and after listening would sigh that even honest officials found family matters hard to judge, and that foreign families were just as troublesome.
Some would lament that a perfectly good rich family’s daughter had been blind enough to benefit a foreigner, probably due to vanity, leading to bitter consequences, truly pitiful and hateful. They concluded that marriage should still be to Chinese men – honest and hardworking, understanding propriety and righteousness, respecting women, and even if they were shorter and darker, looks couldn’t be eaten. Besides, skinny men didn’t hurt as much when beating their wives.
In any case, this case swept through both Chinese and foreign communities at an alarming speed. When the British Consulate gates opened today, public anticipation reached its peak.
Lin Yuchan’s hired carriage couldn’t move a mile away. She simply jumped down and walked the last stretch on foot, arriving at the waiting area outside the gates, squeezing into the chaotic crowd.
Looking up, she saw Miss Audrey approaching gracefully, wearing high collar and long sleeves, fanning herself vigorously in the sultry weather.
Lin Yuchan hurried to greet her: “You came too! Is your cough better? The weather’s been hot lately.”
Miss Audrey had met Gao Dewen once at the Jade Virtue Girls’ School and came to observe today in her free time, fanning herself and sighing: “Such a devout girl. I thought her marriage would be smooth sailing.”
There were quite a few foreign residents who came to observe the excitement, many of whom Lin Yuchan knew – not because she knew people everywhere, but because there were only so many foreigners in the settlement. Even standing guard randomly at street corners, you could encounter several people who knew Miss Lin from Boya.
Dr. Owen was asking Manager Macaulay about investment matters; Bishop Long was discussing magnanimity and tolerance with Officer William; Hede sent his secretary Jin Denggan to observe since Ma Qingchen was also a Qing official who had dealings with Hede multiple times, and Hede needed immediate feedback on this case.
Lin Yuchan suddenly felt her shoulder weighed down. Turning around, she saw Victor with his golden hair and white teeth, beaming at her.
“Surprised, aren’t you, Miss Lin? I was selected as a jury member.” He winked at her. “But don’t try to bribe me – I won’t favor either side for just one kiss! – Well, two kisses might be worth considering…”
Lin Yuchan scoffed: “Fooling who? This isn’t the Municipal Council court – civil cases at the British Consular Court, where both parties are British citizens, don’t include non-British jury members by regulation. Don’t tell me you married Mr. Hede.”
Victor blushed slightly: “How… how do you know so clearly…”
She was just accompanying that Chinese wife to court…
Lin Yuchan rolled her eyes at him, thinking to herself that he flattered her – she had thoroughly studied all the British Consular Court regulations.
She spotted a familiar chestnut-colored head through the crowd and quickly waved.
Miss Compton had come with her father, conveniently bringing many girlfriends, forming their own group under the tree shade, chattering and laughing.
As for newspaper editor Mr. Compton, he was a genuine jury member. He also wanted to take this opportunity to meet that E.C. Bennett who had created countless revenues for The North China Herald, so when the consulate sent the jury request, he readily agreed.
His daughter pestered him to come observe, so he had to bring her along.
Miss Compton listened to her girlfriends fantasizing that “that Mr. Bennett must be handsome” while turning to wink lightly at Lin Yuchan.
Lin Yuchan returned a “don’t worry” look.
To prepare for this trial, both had worked hard, devouring countless books and collections, meeting with all sorts of random connections, like preparing for a university final exam.
Today, they entered the examination hall – success or failure hung on this single moment.
Her Majesty’s personally appointed Chief Justice Sir Hong Bei, fanning himself and drinking iced fruit juice, saw this unprecedented spectacle through the carved wooden window and felt somewhat daunted.
He quietly asked his clerk: “Have the gunboats arrived?”
The British Empire was a civilized country with a complete legal system, but this “rule of law” had limits. Specifically, it could only exist within gunboat range.
Once, when a British man accidentally killed a Chinese person and the jury collectively found him not guilty, Chinese rioters surrounded the consulate and nearly dragged Sir Hong Bei out the front door. The consulate had to urgently deploy a nearby British gunboat to scare away the angry crowd.
Since then, whenever trying China-related cases, Sir Hong Bei would deploy British gunboats to guard the shore, ensuring Britain’s “judicial independence” in China. This had become a proud tradition of British courts in China.
Though both parties in today’s case were British nationals, the plaintiff was a newly naturalized Chinese person who would surely gain widespread support from Chinese community residents. Sir Hong Bei didn’t dare to be careless.
Bang bang bang – several cannon shots. Sir Hong Bei joyfully saw from the window that gunboats were slowly approaching, using cannon fire to salute him from afar.
With gunboats, he felt confident. Sir Hong Bei put on his white wig and ordered: “Prepare to open court.”
Registered foreign observers filed in.
Chinese spectators were pushed behind “Chinese Keep Out” signs. Many protested angrily: “Your Honor, this case involves Chinese people – why won’t you let us in to listen? It’s unfair! Who knows if you’ll show favoritism! We can stand outside the door—”
Boom! The gunboat roared once, and the consulate entrance returned to quiet.
Lin Yuchan and Miss Compton went one after the other, finally squeezing to the consulate’s carved Western cedar door. Miss Compton went in first. Lin Yuchan’s vision blurred as Chinese guards stopped her.
“Chinese keep out! Didn’t you hear after shouting so many times?”
Lin Yuchan: “I’m here to participate in the trial…”
“Bullshit, how can Chinese people participate in foreigners’ trials? Move along! Don’t block the way!”
Lin Yuchan pulled out a paper: “I’m Mr. Bennett’s representative. This is the pass the consulate sent…”
“Where’d you pick this up?” The guard didn’t understand her self-introduction at all, instead becoming immediately alert. “Give it back! Give it to me!”
Lin Yuchan explained repeatedly, with no one listening. Seeing the guard about to push her physically, she angrily turned and left.
On Chinese soil, Chinese people legally participating in public affairs were blocked by Chinese people.
She walked in circles around the consulate walls. The British had strong self-protection awareness but slightly inferior coordination ability – every small side door had guards who only knew to choke her with “Chinese not allowed.”
Suddenly, from a secluded corridor window facing outward, a pair of hands in lace gloves extended.
Lin Yuchan was overjoyed. She moved two bricks to stand on, grabbed Miss Compton’s hands, and tumbled inside.