Miss Mau had limited education and could only half-understand what she read, making out only the four characters “Technical Director.”

Her first reaction was to purse her lips and burst into tears.

“I… I don’t know how…”

“What your father could do, you can do too. Of course, you’ll still need to learn.” Lin Yuchan spoke frankly. “From now on, you’ll mainly be responsible for technical matters. For other administrative management issues, just follow Manager Zhao’s orders and learn from others when you don’t understand. Your family has changed, so if you can’t settle your mind right now, you can take leave. I’ll wait.”

Mau Shunniang held the appointment letter in a daze. She remembered when she was very young, her father would bring her to play at the tea shop, and she would occasionally see her father headhunt from other establishments, inviting those seemingly capable master craftsmen to the tea shop. After discussions, he would solemnly present such an appointment letter, exchanging mutual commitments.

Now, the “master craftsman” from her memory was gone, replaced by her face.

Her vision blurred, and she suddenly saw Su Minguan stand up, lazily packing his things to leave.

“Su… Young Master Su…”

Mau Shunniang mustered her courage to bow to him, saying in an extremely small voice: “Thank you…”

Su Minguan was baffled: “Thank me for what?”

“Thank you for coming to help with tea tasting… Miss Lin said you could distinguish between handmade tea and machine-made tea…”

“You’re overthinking.” Su Minguan bluntly pointed out, “You can check my scoring sheet. I think I only gave you five ‘excellent’ ratings. Your senior brother got seven. My standards are very high.”

Mau Shunniang was stunned and turned back to look at Lin Yuchan again.

She stubbornly believed that Lin Yuchan must have used some clever method to favor her, giving her high scores to help her defeat her senior brother.

Lin Yuchan laughed: “I didn’t have him show favoritism! Weren’t most of the judges familiar acquaintances your senior brother invited? They didn’t know whose hands the tea came from when they were tasting, right? Miss Mau, be confident. You won purely on merit.”

The expression on Mau Shunniang’s face was colorful and amusing.

Lin Yuchan patted her shoulder and smiled.

“Not taking leave then? Come to headquarters for a meeting tomorrow. Don’t be late.”

The farce of changing leadership at Xuhui Tea Shop thus ended as quietly as gentle rain. Lin Yuchan sent people to inquire and learned that among Shopkeeper Mau’s several apprentices, some stayed in Shanghai while others returned to their hometowns. Since they were all skilled technical personnel, they quickly found new employers and didn’t worry about having food to eat.

As for whether these new employers understood their character and would be deceived in the future, Lin Yuchan wasn’t a bodhisattva and couldn’t manage so many affairs.

However, the application for Mau Shunniang’s filial daughter title was quickly rejected by the county. They said this year’s competition for chastity and filial piety memorial arches was fierce. Songjiang Prefecture had a filial daughter from a prominent family who, to treat her elderly father’s illness, continuously cut flesh from her thigh for three months. In the end, her father recovered, but she died from severe injuries. This deed was so shocking that local officials immediately treasured it as a gem, reporting it layer by layer up to the Ministry of Rites.

In comparison, merchant’s daughter Mau Shunniang’s “postponing marriage to see her father to his final rest” seemed utterly ordinary and unsurprisingly failed the selection.

Of course, considering the face of recommender Rong Hong, local officials still said many kind words, saying they would file her case and try their luck again in years when there weren’t many filial daughters.

Lin Yuchan found this both laughable and absurd. If there were no memorial arch, so be it. Anyway, Mau Shunniang had already begun her mourning period and couldn’t marry for three years, so she could focus on being a technical director.

After finishing the regular meeting that day, Lin Yuchan read through the executives’ work summaries and began thinking about another matter.

Exporting tea leaves, exporting cotton, importing Western scientific research equipment, importing Western fragrant medicines and skincare products, plus various randomly appearing foreign trade orders…

Now they had added supplying imported raw materials to Westernization state enterprises. Boya Company’s business scope was expanding ever wider.

Most merchants in Shanghai now, except for those who built their fortunes on craftsmanship or had special connections and channels focusing on one type of business, dabbled in various fields. Whatever made money, they would get involved, putting eggs in different baskets to ensure profit regardless of drought or flood.

Lin Yuchan carefully calculated that essentially her businesses were similar, roughly divided into two types: imports and processing for export.

Referencing the practices of other major merchants and trading houses, she decided to separate these two major businesses.

The employees had long vaguely expressed similar wishes. For instance, Manager Zhao had told her more than once that he had completely mastered the tea business, and now with Miss Mau’s team operating full-time, Miss Lin could conduct periodic inspections without personally getting involved—could he get a raise?

After discussions with shareholders and employees, Boya Trading Limited Company decided—no raise.

Instead, they would split up.

“Xingrui Tea Company” would mainly handle tea processing business, with Manager Zhao Huaisheng and Technical Director Mau Shunniang. Subordinate establishments included Xuhui Tea Shop, Anqing Tea Warehouse, plus the orphanage painting department. Main brands included Xingrui machine-made tea, Boya handcrafted premium tea, Little Boya, and various derivative brands of different grades.

“Meng’s Flower Company” was formed by acquiring Chang Baoluo’s in-laws’ cotton company and reorganizing it into a cotton export company, with Manager Chang Baoluo, plus the orphanage factory cotton ginning department. With cotton prices soaring yearly, both procurement and processing require manpower. Lin Yuchan couldn’t manage everything, so she authorized Chang Baoluo to take full responsibility.

Chang Baoluo was straightforward and directly requested: “My wife’s seventh aunts, eighth great-aunts, uncles, and nephews all grow cotton. Let’s bring them along to make money together?”

Lin Yuchan was speechless for a while. Wasn’t this nepotism?

On second thought, in the Qing Dynasty’s commercial environment where credibility was worthless, having a layer of family bonds sometimes actually helped with trust and cohesion. There were plenty of successful Ningbo and Guangdong family enterprises.

So she compromised: “I don’t care how you operate in Ningbo. Here in Shanghai, at most you and your wife are together. I don’t want to see anyone else.”

Chang Baoluo quickly said, “Of course not. With too many relatives around, we wouldn’t feel comfortable either.”

This way, Boya split off two major subsidiaries responsible for the export processing business.

Lin Yuchan called all employees together and proposed:

“Everyone has worked with me for these years and should have some savings. You can take charge of these two subsidiaries, purchase shares, and let every drop of your effort be rewarded. I’ll just be a shareholder receiving dividends, checking reports at year-end, and helping when necessary, but overall, power belongs to the people… oh no, to everyone.”

The employees had witnessed Boya’s generous first-year dividends. Without much persuasion, they all cautiously bought shares.

Old Zhao immediately invested one thousand taels of savings, gaining twenty percent ownership of “Xingrui Tea Company.” Aunt Hong and Sister Nian, the two self-combed sisters without family burdens, had barely spent money these years. When they went home to count, they surprisingly had saved four to five hundred taels and happily invested in Meng’s Flower Company, also becoming shareholders.

Even Aunt Zhou, who didn’t belong to any company but handled household affairs, took out the hundred taels she had almost invested in real estate stocks and shyly asked Lin Yuchan, “I think cotton is more profitable. I want to invest in your cotton company. But I can’t read—could you find someone to read me that annual report?”

…

The two subsidiaries operated smoothly for a month with successful “decentralization.”

As for Boya headquarters’ business, it returned to basics, reverting to the “small but beautiful” form from Rong Hong’s era—specializing in high-end imported foreign goods, supplying customs and the imperial court. Lin Yuchan didn’t trust others with this business and handled it personally.

Everyone became busier, except for one person.

Due to the tea company and cotton company splitting off with separate accounting and each hiring new bookkeepers, Su Minguan, the chief accountant, had become as idle as a well-fed, lazy cat.

His workload wasn’t much to begin with, and his efficiency was extraordinary—one person worth five others. Lin Yuchan had almost never seen him writing frantically or buried in ledgers. Sometimes she had the confused illusion that she was paying twelve silver dollars monthly just to keep a man at home for viewing.

“Little Bai, Little Bai,” she couldn’t help finding him something to do. “Regarding the Jiangnan Arsenal’s bidding for steel pipes and materials—there’s one month left to the deadline. Do you have any suggestions?”

Su Minguan played with a small bronze hammer, skillfully pounding a piece of raw steak.

“Wait a moment. I’m busy.”

“Seeking investment advice” wasn’t indeed specified in the contract. Lin Yuchan could only stare as he fiddled with the steak.

How idle he was!

He spent more time in the kitchen lately than in the accounting office!

Almost catching up to the time he spent rowing at the charity ferry!

Although generally in a kept state, Lin Yuchan was certain the young master wasn’t having a change of heart to establish a virtuous housekeeping persona. He was just seeking challenges when bored.

He learned everything else quickly, but the kitchen had an eight-generation feud with him. So he wrestled with pots, pans, and utensils, determined to overcome this “weak plank” in his barrel.

Chinese stir-frying, where everything was “a little” or “an appropriate amount,” and heat control was mystical. Now that Hong Chunkai had gone to work for foreign firms, Su Minguan had no master and relied purely on self-exploration. After burning down the kitchen for the third time in half a month, Aunt Zhou changed the kitchen locks, strictly forbidding his entry or exit.

Fortunately, when the small Western-style building was built, it came with a Western kitchen that had rarely been used for years and served as a storage room.

Su Minguan gave this Western kitchen a high-profile restart. The dusty oven and cast-iron coal stove survived their darkest times to welcome the highlight moment of their stove lives.

Sometimes he went out, nobody knew to which Western restaurant to steal techniques, returning with “this time it will definitely succeed” new recipes. Sometimes he took his finished products—which Lin Yuchan absolutely refused to eat—out the door, letting some unlucky poor beggar on the street take them off his hands.

Of course, Western food at this time also had grades. Common people’s food, like Chinese common meals, was all big stews with potatoes, vegetable leaves, and offal—anything to fill the stomach. But foreigners coming to Shanghai weren’t commoners; they ate high-class steaks, stewed meat, roasted chicken, and ham soup, whose preparation emphasized scientific measurement, very suitable for Su Minguan’s personality.

He set up scales in the Western kitchen and, like a diligent early bird, studied for a month and got the hang of it.

“A’Mei, look,” he said proudly, “this steak absolutely won’t be tough to chew.”

Lin Yuchan wearily retorted: “I’d rather break a tooth than taste blood again…”

“It won’t be bloody either.” He said confidently, “With calipers and a thermometer, I can precisely control thickness and heat. I’ve written notes…”

As he spoke, he put the steak in the pan. With a sizzle, white smoke flashed, and the aroma of butter and fat spread.

Before the steaming stove, the straight-figured man slightly lowered his head, concentrating on manipulating the iron tongs, sweat dampening his gauze shirt collar.

It looked quite professional.

Lin Yuchan fully encouraged his enthusiasm, asking with a smile: “What vegetables to go with it?”

Su Minguan glanced sideways.

A bundle of washed local greens, cut perfectly straight with each segment within five millimeters of error.

Lin Yuchan suppressed a laugh. The vegetables in Western recipes—cabbage, asparagus, onions—were hard to buy in ordinary markets even with money, so he had to mix and match randomly.

By normal cooking habits, while frying steak, one would boil water and blanch vegetables simultaneously to save fuel.

Not Su Minguan. He could multitask with other things, but cooking had to be done one item at a time. Any slight overlap of steps would cause disasters.

Lin Yuchan, feeling sorry for her coal money, efficiently helped him boil water, then asked: “What about the staple food?”

Su Minguan looked a bit embarrassed, saying softly: “Aunt Zhou’s rice from yesterday, there’s still half a pot left.”

Lin Yuchan: “…”

He had put on a master chef’s posture and worked diligently for two hours, essentially just frying a steak!

Truly had a great craftsman spirit.

“A’Mei,” Su Minguan took a handkerchief to wipe sweat, watching her handle the greens attentively. Her pale fingers with the emerald green vegetable leaves, “About the Jiangnan Arsenal bidding, if you ask my opinion… I don’t support it. Sorry.”

Lin Yuchan: “Oh?”

Throwing cold water again. But she was long immune, tilting her face up, waiting for his explanation.

Su Minguan concentrated on monitoring the stake’s color, hesitating for a long time before saying: “Even if you produce high-quality, affordable domestic guns and cannons, who do you think their muzzles will point at?”

Lin Yuchan was startled.

He didn’t forget his identity; his position was very clear.

But she immediately explained: “First, the domestic military industry is just starting, still ten thousand li away from producing firearms comparable to foreign guns. Second, helping this factory build foundations isn’t just for the court’s benefit. Someday, it… It will serve all Chinese people.”

Su Minguan glanced at her, saying softly: “That’s your beautiful imagination.”

“Even without domestic guns and cannons, government troops will use imported military equipment to suppress civil unrest. Moreover…”

Lin Yuchan dared not continue promoting her “beautiful imagination.” But she knew that after the current Nian Rebellion ended, until the Boxer Rebellion decades later, the domestic situation would be relatively peaceful with no more large-scale warfare like the Hong Army uprising or Taiping Heavenly Kingdom.

She smiled, changing to a lighter tone: “Looking at the bright side, if I can get involved in the military equipment business, wouldn’t it be an asset during future revolutions?”

Su Minguan chuckled.

She spoke so seriously, following his “unfounded worries” and deliberately exaggerating in that direction.

But… it was quite an enticing prospect.

Over the past few years, like most other fallen Heaven and Earth Society brothers, he had focused on lying low, thinking that strengthening themselves and helping each other was the most urgent task at present.

But since storming Beijing to rescue people and directly confronting that thousand-year web, he had secretly resolved that he would storm that rotten city again someday.

The great battle would come eventually. Maybe it would take a long time, maybe he wouldn’t see it in his lifetime.

But when that time came, he had to be prepared.

The girl beside him was the same. Although she didn’t seem very enthusiastic about rebellion on the surface and lacked relevant professional qualifications, he could sense that her hatred and resistance toward certain things ran much deeper than his.

Su Minguan smiled slightly, bending down to kiss her nose tip.

“Of course, making money is most important.” He relented, “If you want to fight for it, go ahead, but…”

Lin Yuchan was delighted, immediately listening attentively.

“Any guidance?”

“I can’t guide—you-you can’t compete with foreign firms.” Su Minguan bluntly pointed out, “I’ve worked at foreign firms. For all government procurement, they have special kickback budgets, sometimes as much as thirty to forty percent.”

Foreign firms doing business with the court—usually purchasing guns and cannons—always held information advantages. The government also had compradors collaborating with foreigners. After a deal, the court paid prices even higher than market rates, foreign firms made money, and handling officials got enough kickbacks—a three-win situation.

Lin Yuchan knew he spoke truthfully, but she then smiled.

“This time isn’t as simple as buying foreign guns and cannons. Manufacturing military equipment requires dozens or hundreds of raw materials. The court doesn’t have the leisure to find foreign merchants for each one.” She said, “The Jiangnan Arsenal issued documents clearly stating all procurement dealings would be handled by Chinese merchants with proper credentials, absolutely excluding foreign covetousness.”

Su Minguan looked at her in surprise.

So… the court was quite determined about independence and self-strengthening.

Determined that every steel plate and screw wouldn’t let foreigners get involved.

But competing with Chinese merchants faced the same problem.

He said, “Others will bribe superiors and prepare kickbacks.”

Lin Yuchan remained silent, quietly handling the blanched greens in boiling water. Seeing they were cooked, she immediately used long chopsticks to fish them out, laying them on a plate to cool for cold mixing.

To participate in modern China’s industrialization, being self-righteously aloof wouldn’t work. When necessary, she’d have to do things she disliked.

But she quickly added, “Mr. Rong is the supervisor of Jiangnan Arsenal. He definitely can’t allow the machine factory to purchase substandard raw materials. I can guarantee Boya’s submitted samples have the highest quality. Then I’ll work the connections a bit—I can’t come forward myself, but Old Zhao has some experience…”

She paused, then clung behind him with ulterior motives: “If you’re willing to earn some bonus…”

Su Minguan shivered from her breath, laughing as he dodged away.

“How do you guarantee your samples have the highest quality?”

Lin Yuchan ran out of the kitchen, returning triumphantly, waving several letters.

“Anqing Inner Arsenal was disbanded, and the Xu father and son are temporarily unemployed, planning to stay briefly in Shanghai, visiting friends. I wrote inviting Xu Jianyin to be Boya’s temporary scientific consultant, asking him to check our raw material samples.”

Su Minguan’s expression changed slightly, suddenly frowning, turning to run away.

The pan emitted a burning smell, and a blackened piece of beef curled at the bottom.

“Excellent.” Su Minguan gritted his teeth lightly, saying in an empty tone, “I’ll treat him to bloodless steak.”

“Mm, delicious, delicious… this is also very tasty. You couldn’t eat these things in Anqing. Shanghai is still better—everything’s available… Hey, I just don’t understand why those older folks call these things barbarian foreign food, wanting to pinch their noses just from smelling them. I think they’re quite good. If I had a chance to live in Western countries for a while, I’d eat these every day without getting tired…”

At the dining table, Xu Jianyin wolfed down a table of Western food. He wasn’t picky, accepting onions and cheese alike, but just wasn’t skilled with a knife and fork, eating without satisfaction.

Su Minguan poured wine for everyone, smiling: “Miss Lin knows how to pick restaurants.”

Rong Hong sat at the head seat, skillfully using knife and fork to debone the roasted chicken on his plate. He dissected a chicken cleanly while Xu Jianyin was still concentrating his energy, gripping the knife backhand in “Plum Blossom Two Forms Style,” struggling with a seven-tenths-cooked steak.

Rong Hong couldn’t watch anymore and placed the chopsticks beside Xu Jianyin.

Xu Jianyin quickly stood: “Thank you, sir…”

“Family dinner.” Lin Yuchan tapped his back with the knife handle, “Don’t bother with such formalities.”

Su Minguan wanted to show off his skills, hosting a welcome dinner for Xu Jianyin. But Lin Yuchan, for the safety of the small Western-style building, had preemptively locked the Western kitchen too, quickly ordering a table of dishes from a familiar Western restaurant.

Xu Jianyin tasted this and that, eyes sparkling, thanking unclearly while eating: “The equipment you ordered for us works so well! When father encountered difficulties translating books, he’d do experiments with them—so convenient!—It’s just that now Anqing Inner Arsenal is disbanded, those things were all moved to Jinling. Jinling is currently a dead city, don’t know how long we’ll wait before operations resume. I don’t want to waste time, so I came to find you. Sorry…”

Lin Yuchan quickly reciprocated the courtesy. She felt in Xu Jianyin’s eyes she was probably like Doraemon, able to produce various interesting gadgets anytime.

Xu Jianyin also cared about another old friend, asking: “Brother Su’s shipping business must still be thriving? When I took the boat to Shanghai this time, I didn’t see your beautiful flagship. How is it now? Has the engine had any more problems?”

Really touching on sensitive subjects. Su Minguan smiled, saying very composedly: “Poor management, went bankrupt.”

Xu Jianyin: “…”

If this were a few months ago, Su Minguan couldn’t mention this. Just thinking of the words “Yixing” would depress him for half a day. On the surface, he’d seem calm, but inside, he’d suffer and rage through five thousand years of history.

Now, after quietly recuperating at Boya for several months, indulged by Lin Yuchan in various activities, his negative emotions had mostly vented, and his mentality was very stable.

It wasn’t his first time starting over. He was only in his twenties, with plenty of potential and time.

Seeing Xu Jianyin still agape, he affectionately glanced at Lin Yuchan, adding: “Now I take a salary under Miss Lin, paying off debts. She’s my financial backer.”

Xu Jianyin again: “…”

These two couldn’t be measured by normal standards. If he hadn’t known them long, he’d probably be scared enough to report to the authorities.

“Oh right,” Xu Jianyin protected his worldview and changed topics, “Miss Lin, about those foreign firm materials you sent… I looked at them briefly…”

When it came to business, even the most fragrant steak and red wine lost their appeal. Lin Yuchan quickly tore off a chicken leg, left her seat, and crowded beside Xu Jianyin, watching him open his notebook.