Su Minguan only returned in the evening. According to him, he went to the farm twice for milk, listened to bird songs in the forest for a while, took a nap holding A’Nv, and finally borrowed the washroom at Rong Hong’s house (where female guests happened to be there, playing with the child in the garden for a while). The journey was very peaceful throughout.

At least he enjoyed it thoroughly. Lin Youhua’s basket was stuffed full of freshly picked flowers, her little hands grasping a clean pine cone, and several bright red bearberries were embedded in her sparse hair. All the branches and leaves had been carefully washed, clean, without any mud.

Lin Yuchan took back her baby and examined her repeatedly, finding her in good spirits, except for two mosquito bites on her tender legs.

Su Minguan’s face darkened: “…”

He hadn’t noticed that.

She suppressed the momentary murderous impulse and smiled magnanimously.

“It’s… It’s fine. Next time, bring a sachet.”

After coaxing the child to sleep, she showed off her afternoon’s work results to Su Minguan.

Once the psychological burden was lifted, her condition returned quickly. The only shortcoming was that during this period, she hadn’t kept up with current affairs, didn’t understand Qing court political movements very well, and found it somewhat difficult to grasp fluctuations in the exchange rate market.

Su Minguan held her as they spread out the scrapbook and studied together.

“This year’s new railway mileage in America has declined significantly compared to last year.” She suddenly realized, “The railways are almost finished being built. I should liquidate the remaining half of my railway company shares.”

Not having paid attention to stock movements for months, she criticized herself for being too careless. She quickly made a note in her memo to telegraph familiar traders.

“There’s also the new Coinage Act,” Su Minguan pointed to the clipping, reminding her. “The federal government is implementing a comprehensive gold standard. Prices and exchange rates will both be affected, most likely by deflation. Now that Qing currency floats according to silver prices, those New York trading house orders of yours must be re-examined.”

Lin Yuchan nodded, the corners of her mouth secretly curving up. Terms like “gold standard” and “deflation” didn’t yet have standard Chinese translations. His familiarity with these concepts was still the result of her forcing him to read “The Wealth of Nations” years ago…

They focused until late at night. Looking at the stars outside the window, she suddenly realized she hadn’t thought about the child for four hours.

Su Minguan had already quietly fed A’Nv and put her to sleep peacefully.

Lin Yuchan touched her chest, feeling a bit lost. Was this weaning already…

On second thought, with her body as a child, she was probably raised on rice soup and tofu water daily—how much milk had she ever drunk? Hadn’t she grown up just fine?

At least Su Minguan was feeding her baby goat milk. Even in modern times, goat milk formula was expensive.

Each era had its own way of living. Her past insistence on caring for the child by twenty-first century standards was indeed somewhat obsessive.

The anxious mindset was like accumulated floodwater—once it found an outlet, recovery wasn’t difficult.

The next day, she received letters from several girls’ schools urging her to discuss preparatory course arrangements for new students.

Lin Yuchan bit her lip, kissed and kissed her baby, then boarded the carriage.

She didn’t return until dark after a busy day. Thank heavens, her daughter was still alive.

She thought Su Minguan was practically superhuman! She wanted to kiss him, hug him, and lift him high!

However, when organizing accounts, she found a receipt pressed in the drawer with Christmas Freeman’s signature, indicating temporary employment today for cooking, laundry, and house cleaning for several hours, receiving seventy cents plus a meal…

Lin Yuchan secretly smiled, hid the receipt well, and pretended not to see it.

A month later, she went to New York Maternity Hospital to visit Huang Hu, and also went to the factory where Rong Hong had originally ordered machinery to search for the latest model silk reeling machines for Boya’s subsidiaries.

Su Minguan accompanied her, prepared for a battle of words. The child was left at Mark Twain’s house, with several orphanage sisters helping to care for her.

They returned a week later. Alive.

She had even gained weight, cuddling with little Susy, being tickled into giggles. Susy was already a year and a half old, tottering around, piling all her beloved toys on Lin Youhua.

Lin Yuchan tentatively called out. Lin Youhua still recognized her, and not having developed to the clingy age yet, reached out from the cradle for a hug.

Lin Yuchan thought she would cry, but instead laughed happily as she held her baby, lifting her high, like two old friends reuniting after a long separation.

Olivia smiled and said, “Look how much she loves you. Luna, you’re truly a good mother.”

Lin Yuchan thought somewhat wistfully—was she a good mother?

Several orphanage girls crowded over, chattering in imperfect English: “Sister Lin has been our mommy for many years already, very experienced, can raise any child!”

Lin Yuchan laughed again. In the past when she was busy with work, at most she would visit the orphanage once a week to play mother, leaving after just a few hours.

So in the children’s eyes, she was also a good mother.

Because she brought them living expenses, brought delicious food, brought fresh stories from outside, brought paths to education and livelihood.

Brought hope.

She took Su Minguan’s arm and walked briskly out of the Clemens family yard.

She whispered to the baby in her arms, “Lin Youhua, I love you. I hope you also think I’m a good mother.”

In March of the following year, China Merchants Steam Navigation Company began its first dividend distribution. Under the leadership of new general manager Tang Tingshu and co-manager Xu Run, it had started turning a profit. The 600,000 taels of shares Lin Yuchan had originally received were now worth over 700,000 taels on the market. Moreover, with the “dividend coupons” in hand, she could go to the Shanghai headquarters to collect dividends. After deducting various taxes and fees, she expected to receive about 30,000 taels.

Su Minguan looked at the financial statement and commented impassively: “Not bad, they didn’t waste my ships.”

But his eyes sparkled with laughter. His imagination soared thousands of miles, as if he could already see Chinese ships sailing through the emerald waters of the Yangtze River while foreign ships retreated step by step. Though the powers remained greedy and fierce, they could no longer monopolize the colors of flags on the seas.

Lin Yuchan was troubled again: “But the contract stipulates that dividends must be collected in person by the registered holder with dividend coupons. Expired ones are voided.”

Qing state enterprises weren’t like mature American companies that could preserve dividends for shareholders for seven or eight years untouched. If not collected on time, that money would end up in someone else’s pocket.

She looked at Su Minguan with questioning eyes. He smiled at her and went to the kitchen to find ham and bread, skillfully making sandwiches.

This kind of cold meal that didn’t require lighting a fire, he could manage easily. Adding apple slices to sandwiches wasn’t a disaster either—Lin Yuchan took it and ate.

“Want more cheese?” Su Minguan suggested. “It’s expensive in Shanghai and not fresh.”

So she took another big bite of cheese, picked up her pen, and began writing to the steamship company to book tickets from San Francisco back to Shanghai.

Bai Yushan never neglected his duties, hmph.

She asked with a smile: “Want to go back and eat June crabs?”

Su Minguan sat on the table opening his letters, shaking his head upon hearing this.

“Eat a few extra for me.” He sighed. “Look at this.”

He opened a brand new Year of the Dog almanac sent from Shanghai, found the interlayer, and pulled out a wanted notice with Shanghai County’s official seal, dated the twelfth month of Tongzhi’s twelfth year. The edges were dirty and frayed, with paste marks, obviously torn from some wall and loyally packaged and sent overseas by brothers as a warning.

If he dared return to China, he’d probably be in trouble the moment he got off the ship.

Lin Yuchan dramatically exclaimed, “Eek!””Like a rat crossing the street.”

Shanghai County was working hard to meet this year’s KPIs.

However, she also knew that Emperor Tongzhi was weak and sickly, and would probably pass away within these two years. When the new emperor ascended the throne, there would likely be a general amnesty. Su Minguan still had a chance to return to his homeland, but not this time.

She wasn’t particularly sad. In a trance, she seemed to return to those days in China when they each had their careers, coming together and parting.

“A’Mei, please also book me a train ticket to San Francisco.” Su Minguan read another letter, a flash of coldness in his eyes. “Central Pacific Railroad Company performed poorly last year and is laying off workers, giving no compensation, and withholding wages. I guess they’re itching for trouble again.”

North American Hongshun Hall had established a foothold in San Francisco and would write to consult with Su Minguan about major matters.

Lin Yuchan gave herself a thumbs up for last year’s decision to sell stocks, thinking of the shareholders’ reception she attended in San Francisco and those cunning capitalists, she felt sorry for the Chinese workers.

She frowned: “Since it’s layoffs, they can’t strike again.”

Su Minguan: “Large numbers of Chinese workers are unemployed. If returning home, they need reliable passenger ships. If staying, they need new enterprises to pay wages. Preferably Chinese-owned companies with some strength, so they won’t be exploited everywhere.”

Lin Yuchan looked fascinated at his steady eyes. Though he spoke briefly, he certainly had plans in mind.

Sporadic resistance wasn’t a long-term solution after all. Without homeland backing overseas, Chinese people could only rely on solidarity and build their own Great Wall. When one person’s strength wasn’t enough, they borrowed collective power—only by becoming strong could they earn foreigners’ respect.

Hongshun Hall was everyone’s base. If there could also be a stable source of income for operational funds…

“What do you plan to do?” she asked with a smile.

Su Minguan kept her in suspense: “I have it figured out.”

She thought, of course, he did. This wasn’t his first time starting from scratch—he could do anything.

Plus, the tens of thousands of taels in dividends from China Merchants, the “Central Pacific Railroad” was probably going to have some bad days ahead.

She smiled and reminded: “Oil, minerals, have been quite profitable lately. Also securities, insurance…”

Su Minguan opened the third registered letter, raised an eyebrow, and slowly drew out a stack of patterned thick paper from the envelope, his eyes showing amusement.

“Approved.”

Lin Yuchan curiously leaned over: “What’s approved?”

A document from the California Secretary of State’s Office, approving the Chinese person named Su Minguan to establish a private enterprise in California called Yee-Hing Trading and Transit Company, with attached business license, registration bond receipt, physical goods sales permit, import-export tax registration, transportation and mining permits…

Lin Yuchan’s eyes went wide as she jumped up: “Congratulations! When did you…”

Su Minguan held her, like a child hiding candy, slyly telling her: “When I went to San Francisco last year, just helping someone with a lawsuit would be too wasteful of the ticket money.”

Based on California’s many exclusionary policies against Chinese, this business license took quite some effort, taking months to process. If Chinese people did business on the East Coast, all procedures would be much smoother.

But Su Minguan had this character of swimming upstream. The more a place suppressed him, the more fighting spirit he had.

Lin Yuchan caressed those densely packed registration documents, her mind wandering, suddenly looking up with a beaming smile: “What’s the business scope? There are many Chinese in San Francisco—is there demand for domestic orders? Should California red abalone be sold to Guangdong? Don’t be polite, new store opening, I’ll give you twenty percent off!”

…………………………………………

There was movement in the bedroom. Lin Youhua woke up, crawled out using hands and feet, curiously looking up and around.

She was surprised to discover her parents sitting at opposite ends of the table, eyes flashing like swords, engaged in serious negotiations.

“No good. Since Yee-Hing hasn’t developed an insurance business yet, I need to hire additional insurance companies. This price needs at least half a percent more.” Lin Yuchan bent down and scooped up her baby, softly greeting her, smiling as she stuffed a piece of cheese in her mouth, then looked up again, her gaze becoming shrewd and sharp again. “Also, water and land transportation in the New York area is monopolized by the Vanderbilts. Their methods are vicious, and they stop at nothing. I don’t think Yee-Hing can extend business to the East Coast in the near term. However, if you’re willing to sign a betting agreement…”

Su Minguan gently grasped her fingers, his gaze burning, beautiful eyes black as ink, making her feel heated across the foot of air between them.

“A’Mei, you can’t let me starve.” He sighed softly. “We’re very poor, a ragtag bunch with few useful people. After buying land, our books are almost empty—we might not even be able to pay this year’s taxes…”

The cunning merchant was playing the emotional card again. Lin Yuchan remained unmoved, lowering her head to teach her daughter: “Lin Youhua, learn from this person—thick-skinned, you’ll suffer less in the future.”

Lin Youhua looked left, then right, her big eyes full of question marks.