The clear and enchanting night of early winter. The night watchman on duty carried a kerosene lamp, slacking off after two blocks, leaning against a large tree yawning. Two patrol officers wrapped in thick clothing, shouldering foreign rifles, lazily smoking by the roadside.

Suddenly, they saw several figures flash by – someone violating curfew to wander the streets. The patrol officers hastily pulled themselves together from their slovenly state and stood upright.

Just as they were about to shout a challenge, one person’s hand produced a silver dollar. A young voice spoke with a cold smile: “Yixing Shipping Company. Show some accommodation.”

With a soft thud, that voice was already ten paces away, opening a Western umbrella and leaping over the railing of Wells Bridge.

With a splash, the “Chinese Cross Bridge Five Cents” sign blocking the entrance was kicked forcefully aside, falling into Suzhou Creek with a spray of pitch-black water.

The patrol station had often received gifts from Yixing. The two officers exchanged knowing smiles and returned to smoking.

Starlight struggled through dark clouds, robbed of nine-tenths of its brightness, casting gray shadows of houses and trees on the earth.

Outside the courtyard gate of Boya Hongkou, a pile of debris formed makeshift steps, with several dirty footprints on top of the surrounding wall.

Su Minguan’s steps faltered, his thinking ability drained for an instant, bone-chilling coldness rising from the base of his spine.

That ghost letter had arrived at just the right time!

Then he burst into explosive running, leaving his several companions far behind.

He remembered the day his predecessor Jin Lanhe sacrificed himself, someone had covered his escape. He had run desperately for his life. Half an hour from Yuexiu Mountain to Shamian Island, his blood vessels nearly bursting, his vision black with starlight, almost dying.

Yet even that hadn’t been as heart-wrenchingly unbearable as now.

“Shanghai local gangs prefer talking to fighting” – what gave this unlucky crow-mouth such confidence?

When everyone courteously divided the spoils while sitting, they would naturally follow the rules; but there were also special moments when some wouldn’t play by the rules.

Like revenge.

The remnants of the Green Gang had never managed to fight their way back to Puxi, but that didn’t mean they were all dead.

Chu Nanyun had disappeared into Suzhou Creek with blood holes nearly piercing his torso, but those ten silver dollars bounty on his head had never been paid out.

Alive but no body seen, dead but no corpse found – the only possibility was that he was safely hidden away.

As for who provided the help…

He couldn’t investigate before, but today’s letter gave him the answer.

The Jiangsu-Zhejiang Heaven and Earth Society branch had once been the mighty Small Swords Society, controlled for years by a Guangdong-born Shanghai Circuit Intendant, with the Thirteen Hongs as financial backers. After the uprising failed, most remnants joined the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom.

Cantonese societies rejected opium. The Taiping Army strictly prohibited opium. They couldn’t possibly send a letter with an opium smell, even on the paper.

Su Minguan extracted his foreign gun, casually discarded the umbrella handle remains, jumped down from the wall, and the surrounding noise and commotion suddenly disappeared into silence – no unusual sounds.

But he saw several small rooms with doors wide open. Even the finest imported locks, paired with old wooden door panels, couldn’t withstand a few kicks.

Su Minguan gripped his gun handle, wondering whether to fire a shot directly to summon soldiers and patrol officers.

Or…

Through a window paper, a flash of fire suddenly appeared in the bedroom, followed by a crisp bang.

Then the heavy sound of a body hitting the ground.

“A’Mei!”

Su Minguan’s entire body went ice-cold as he suddenly rushed in. Not caring how many enemies might still be in the room, he bent down to check.

Shaved head, shoulder-length queue, an opium addict with twitching features and bloody, mangled legs.

A dim stove burned in the room. The man’s head had fallen beside the stove, half his queue already burned off, creating a stench.

He was startled, gave the man’s legs two more knife wounds, then carefully walked toward the source of that flash of fire.

“A’Mei?”

His eyes carried bloodlust, now finally adjusting to the room’s darkness, seeing a slender figure huddled trembling on the bed.

He could only make out her silhouette, a small, bewildered form like a little squirrel yanked from its winter hibernation nest.

He reached out a trembling hand, feeling for her wrist, exploring downward, grasping several slender fingers, and also…

A scalding short gun barrel.

Then gently embracing her entire body, no blood, no cries of pain.

His voice was somewhat distorted: “A’Mei…”

Lin Yuchan was scared out of her wits, clutching his lapel tightly, speechless for a long time before stammering: “There were… were several… I didn’t dare move, but someone came through the door… I… I don’t know if I hit… hit him… didn’t seem like they came for… for money…”

Su Minguan clenched his teeth, chaotic emotions frantically pacing outside his heart, the first to surge in was surprisingly faint pride.

“Very accurate. Don’t be afraid.” He was rarely nervous, but now couldn’t even speak in complete sentences, “Should be Chu Nanyun’s people, three sets of footprints, we can handle them.”

He was about to interrogate the one with broken legs when heavy footsteps came in succession. He released Lin Yuchan, his gun already loaded.

At this moment, his companions finally caught up: “Boss, we took care of one here!”

The voice was low and clear, carried by the wind from the other side of the courtyard.

Su Minguan suddenly raised his wrist. A sharp, gong-like clang, so harsh it pierced the heart.

The third intruder carried a blade and, unluckily, held it upright in front of his chest, blocking that nineteenth-century soft lead bullet.

The blade-wielder roared and charged.

“A’Mei, hide under the bed!”

The blade’s wind swept over his head. Not caring that the gun barrel was scalding, he was about to reach for more ammunition when something hard was pressed into his palm – another gun. He snatched it up.

Bang!

The Derringer 1858 seamlessly connected, hitting the man square in the chest.

Like a tea bag hitting the ground, a dull thud, followed by a clang as man and blade went to eternal rest together.

Aunt Zhou had always slept soundly but now suddenly awakened, screaming about thieves, her shrieks carrying across two streets as she rolled and crawled to grab a kitchen knife, blocking the kitchen door.

Su Minguan was relieved. This screaming was enough to summon a dozen patrol officers.

The room was pitch black. He hung both guns at his waist, bent down, grabbed the injured man by the collar, and dragged him outside.

His other hand still tightly gripped the little girl’s slender wrist, as if afraid that letting go would bring a fourth person falling from the sky.

By the faint starlight, turning back, he saw her appearance.

He felt like someone had punched him in the chest, his ears immediately flushing red.

The little girl had just emerged from her bedding, hair disheveled and covering half her face. She was wearing a Western nightgown – pure white with lace trim, an unconscionably low neckline, thin straps exposing a pair of rounded shoulders and two slender white arms.

The hem only reached her knees, bare feet, and with a slight breeze, all her curves were revealed.

He nearly choked on his breath. Which Western lady had influenced her to dress like this? Just to sell tea, surely such self-sacrifice wasn’t necessary!

“Go back…”

After two words, he remembered there was a fresh corpse in her room, lying right at her wardrobe door.

No time for cleanup work. He removed his outer robe, wrapped her tightly, pulled the belt hard, and tied a secure knot.

Then he kicked open the kitchen door and grabbed a kitchen knife. He instructed the trembling maid inside: “Keep screaming!”

In the courtyard, the leg-injured man kept moaning softly. Su Minguan got straight to the point.

“Where is Chu Nanyun?”

Through the groaning, he caught several broken words.

“With… with Dexing Prefecture’s… in Pudong… wuu… sent us to sneak over, spare my life…”

“Why come here?”

“By chance… by chance saw Miss Lin still in Shanghai… indignant, revenge… revenge…”

“What were you originally planning to do?”

“…”

“Patrol officers are coming immediately.” Su Minguan lightly turned the kitchen knife, its blade reflecting starlight into the man’s eyes, “I’ll cut out your tongue, denounce you as a rebel, stuff some money around, and they’ll extradite you to Shanghai County Court – lingchi or bisection, your choice.”

The man’s face instantly contorted as he weakly spoke.

“Kidnap… kidnap her… Dexing Prefecture’s people want to discuss brotherhood with you, Chu… Boss Chu wanted to make you turn against each other…”

Su Minguan cursed angrily, his whole body crawling with discomfort like ants. How long had these people been watching her? Not just a day or two.

He wasn’t strong enough yet. Yixing wasn’t strong enough yet. They’d missed some telltale signs.

Imaginably, if his vigilance had been slightly less and he’d casually gone to the appointment tonight, receiving Chu Nanyun’s hostage-taking message en route would have put him in an extremely passive position.

“Why use her as leverage?” He sneered, “Are she and I very close?”

The man on the ground was speechless, his head lolling to one side as he fainted.

These few exchanges took less than a minute. Now the other Yixing core members hurried over, bringing another corpse, similarly identified as one of Chu Nanyun’s former subordinates who had escaped.

Shi Peng asked with concern: “Miss Lin, are you alright?”

Lin Yuchan was wrapped in a thick garment trailing to her ankles, the belt tied around her stomach making it impossible to breathe smoothly, but she nodded pitifully.

“Patrol officers coming soon,” Su Minguan gave orders, “You all hide for a bit.”

Before he finished speaking, blank shots rang out on the street – patrol officers responding to the sound.

Su Minguan looked down at the wounded man, hesitated a moment, then delivered a fatal stab.

If this man fell into official hands and desperately gave up his “rebel” identity, this time next month Yixing would be sealed, and he, Su Minguan, would get a free trip to the capital with lingchi or bisection as options.

He couldn’t take that risk.

Then he nonchalantly put his arm around the girl beside him, looked up, arranged a panicked expression, and stepped toward the foreign patrol leader.

“Home invasion robbery,” Su Minguan lowered his voice so his tone was unclear, making people think he was shocked speechless, “We… fired in self-defense.”

The patrol officers made surprised “oh” sounds.

Home invasion robbery was common in the foreign settlement. Foreigners in the settlement often carried guns and hired bodyguards – were Chinese starting to follow suit?

Good, saved them a lot of trouble.

A deputy who spoke Chinese stepped forward from the patrol team: “You live here? Tea sellers?”

Su Minguan nodded, “This is my wife. There’s also a maid in the kitchen.”

He gave Lin Yuchan a look. Without his hint, Lin Yuchan nodded frantically.

Seeing this young wife’s beautiful appearance, lightly dressed and wearing a man’s outer coat, clearly looking like she’d just been startled from bed, the patrol officers secretly admired her face while saying perfunctory things like “Madam was frightened.”

Then Su Minguan voluntarily surrendered a kitchen knife and a Derringer 1858 short pistol: “These are defensive weapons.”

The patrol officers approvingly patted his shoulder. This Chinese boss was quite sensible, understanding of procedure.

Several detectives scattered to examine the corpses.

Lin Yuchan pressed tightly against Su Minguan’s chest, finally regaining some composure, her first reaction being: “Can that gun… can it be returned to me?”

Su Minguan was amused, the tense corners of his mouth relaxing as he looked at her gently.

“Should just be comparing bullet marks.”

“Then… then the knife wounds…”

Su Minguan looked at her strangely. This girl’s focus had wandered way off track.

Lin Yuchan couldn’t help it. She’d watched too many novels and crime shows – this couldn’t possibly fool anyone!

But she overestimated mid-nineteenth-century forensic methods and the sense of responsibility of patrol officers in a powerless Eastern foreign settlement who worked for money.

The “crime scene” in the courtyard was only cursorily examined. The deceased weren’t residents, obviously wandering bandits. Besides, they were all genuine Chinese – how they died didn’t matter.

The patrol officers joked, “This is a big case, Officer William will get a high bonus pay this month,” while entering the bedroom.

Su Minguan said quietly, “Wait here. Scared?”

She shook her head, retreating to the wall corner.

Su Minguan followed to the bedroom, taking advantage of the patrol officers routinely drawing lines around the corpse to check Lin Yuchan’s pillow – the huge sum of money was intact. Probably she’d been sleeping with it in her arms.

He quietly opened the bundle, scattered some loose money on the ground, then picked up the bundle and tied it to himself.

Who knew if the patrol officers would help themselves? Chinese people had nowhere to seek justice for such things.

These silver dollars served as hush money. Even if patrol officers discovered any suspicious flaws, for the sake of the money they’d picked up, they could kindly fail to report it.

Then he pulled over Officer William, slipped him several pounds, and begged in feigned panic: “We small people don’t know what to do now, we leave everything to you officials, just please don’t spread word – having people die in the shop is too inauspicious…”

The patrol officers knew Chinese people were superstitious, and merchants were especially taboo about such things. This request was reasonable, and this man’s willingness to “spend money to avoid disaster” was obvious.

So they smiled, saying through the interpreter: “Don’t worry, our duty is maintaining settlement security. You’re law-abiding Chinese merchants, and we’ll likewise protect you wholeheartedly. Since you fear blood, go find familiar people to stay with or find an inn to get through tonight. We need to examine things for a while longer. The body collection team will handle cleanup. Tomorrow afternoon at 1:30, come to the patrol station for a statement and retrieve your gun.”

These patrol officers were usually vicious toward poor people and beggars, but with enough money, they could become models of Chinese-foreign friendship.

He even pulled a cigarette from his pocket, a friendly offering to this Chinese “victim.”

“Here, friend, calm your nerves.”

Su Minguan politely declined.

“Cleanup” naturally wasn’t a free service, inevitably costing more small money.

Everything settled, Su Minguan returned to the courtyard. Lin Yuchan still obediently waited in place, staring with large black-and-white eyes, warily watching patrol officers come and go.

Her palm-sized face was still pale, eyes full of red blood vessels, thin lips trembling, making him want to smooth them with one finger.

He extended a hand to her, and she naturally threw herself into his arms.

Just this morning, Su Minguan had calmly stated “won’t be willful anymore,” but perhaps he was naturally fickle and untrustworthy – these words were swallowed back before half a day passed.

He self-destructively tightened his arms, holding the soft, light bundle, slowly patting her back, his own face against her cold face, strand by strand smoothing her hair.

This was his first time seeing her with completely loose hair. She’d washed it that evening, loosely bound for sleep, the ties now lost, rough hair ends falling on her shoulders, disobediently sticking up, part sliding into his overcoat collar, disappearing behind that barely visible underbodice.

His overcoat appeared oversized and cumbersome, squeezing out layers of wrinkles from the belt, wrapping the small body inside that barely had any presence. She wore only a white strapped nightgown, more alluring than Western romantic paintings, lace-trimmed at the chest, thin and smooth as her skin.

Bare legs and bare feet, which should have been warm white skin in lamplight, were now tinted pale gray-blue by night, like fragile fine porcelain that seemed like he could crush with just two fingers applying slight pressure.

The ground was rough with weeds growing. She uneasily rubbed her toes, not daring to move a step.

Su Minguan asked softly: “Where are your shoes?”

Her voice was thin as a mosquito: “Under the shop counter, there’s a spare pair.”

He scooped up her knees, gently lifting her. He felt the porcelain-like small legs swaying at his side.

With patrol officers still in the courtyard, lighting lamps for record-keeping, he could only lift his coat hem, wrapping it around her legs and feet.

Suddenly, he heard a small voice from his chest, saying quietly, “Thank you…”

Su Minguan felt inexplicable irritation rising in his heart. He should have been prescient. His Yixing headquarters never relaxed vigilance, yet he hadn’t expected villains to accidentally discover her first.

Joining had risks, risks always self-borne. With so many trivial matters within the Heaven and Earth Society, how could he manage everything? He could have lightly said he couldn’t save so many people.

The consequences of his frantic running showed only now. His throat hurt like knife stabs, waves of bloody taste reaching his chest, stomach churning and twisting uncomfortably, making breathing difficult.

He asked: “Not afraid anymore?”

“Not afraid.”

“Don’t boast to me. Not afraid?”

“Not afraid.”

Street gongs suddenly sounded. Midnight.

Su Minguan put his hands in his sleeves. Inside was still a letter, an appointment he should keep.

From here to Pudong village by boat, with winding waterways, required at least one hour.

He pondered briefly, asking quietly: “Can you come with me?”

Staying here meant watching body collection. Long nights brought many dreams. Having her by his side was reassuring.

Lin Yuchan nodded. She vaguely realized today’s villains were just one episode in a serial drama. Su Minguan’s timely arrival must have been due to other intelligence sources she didn’t know about.

Her frozen blood gradually warmed, and she felt inexplicably at peace.

She put on her shoes, carefully suggesting: “I… I’d like to find some clothes.”

Patrol officers still lingered in the bedroom. Probably having found the silver dollars on the ground, they were sticking their butts up looking for more under the bed.

Su Minguan led her to the kitchen, knocked to call out Aunt Zhou, asking if she had clean clothes.

Aunt Zhou hadn’t seen the bloody details outside, only heard gunshots, thinking they were from patrol officers. Now with so many patrol officers in the courtyard, it was safe. Her attitude was quite optimistic, laughing: “There are some, just afraid they won’t fit her. But—”

She spoke thoughtlessly for two sentences, then saw clearly what Lin Yuchan was wearing, thought carefully, and her mouth opened wide as a gong.

This was practically equivalent to seeing her naked!

Her gaze toward Su Minguan instantly became stern, loyally protecting her mistress: “Why are you here again?”

Su Minguan had already resumed his dignified appearance, turning on five points of authority, saying sternly, “Heard someone wanted to target the shop, I called the patrol officers. Don’t be afraid, cooperate with whatever the patrol officers want to do. Keep this money for contingencies. I’m taking her to the patrol station for a statement, returning tomorrow.”

Aunt Zhou accepted the money pouch, incredulous: “Recording statements in the middle of the night?”

But according to current customs, men’s words carried natural authority, and she dared not ask more. Seeing Lin Yuchan also nod, she could only comply.

“Then… then remember to call when you return. I’ll lock the door.”

Su Minguan burst into the bedroom, apologizing all the way, opening the wardrobe. She didn’t have many clothes. He had no time to examine them carefully, pulling out several thick ones, then telling patrol officers he was going to stay at an inn.

Lin Yuchan said nothing, obediently following him. Her steps were somewhat unsteady, slender ankles showing beneath her hem.

Su Minguan turned the corner, meeting with his subordinates, ordering one to go to Yixing for reinforcements and sending several to guard here.

Shi Peng hesitantly asked: “Still going to Pudong?”

The meeting hadn’t started, but blood had been seen – not a good omen.

Su Minguan said decisively: “Of course. The Jiangsu-Zhejiang branch leader’s invitation – how can I refuse?”

Lin Yuchan heard “Jiangsu-Zhejiang branch leader” for the first time, instantly feeling overwhelmed.

She complained quietly: “Your organization’s discipline is too poor… calling meetings at will without planning…”

The late Qing Hongmen Heaven and Earth Society was very loosely organized, completely different from the hierarchically strict Liangshan-style gangs in movies and novels. Under the overarching concept of “anti-Qing,” local branches had evolved freely for hundreds of years, no longer under unified command. Branches might cooperate, might oppose each other, or might be completely unaware of each other’s existence.

From Lin Yuchan’s recent observations, it was more like a decentralized blockchain platform.

So the Jiangsu-Zhejiang branch suddenly appearing and seeking out Su Minguan, while not catastrophic, might not be good news either.

Su Minguan explained to his subordinates: “I interrogated that minion. Chu Nanyun survived the disaster and probably found the Jiangsu-Zhejiang branch to complain first, tricking them into arranging this meeting with me. His criminal heart won’t die, wanting to kidnap Miss Lin early to disrupt our position. This was done secretly, probably not the Jiangsu-Zhejiang branch’s idea.”

His gaze was icy, sweeping over his three subordinates.

“If you want to go home and sleep now, you can apply.”

All three showed stern expressions.

Shi Peng said quietly, “A twenty-year addiction you helped me quit. Boss, don’t say you’re a branch leader – even if you belonged to no gang at all, I, Old Shi, would go through fire and water for you.”

The other two, Yuan Daming and Jiang Gaosheng, also said: “The Jiangsu-Zhejiang branch can’t control us anymore. Brothers all follow you now. Good thing we haven’t exercised our muscles in a while!”

Su Minguan smiled coldly.

“As for muscles, better exercise them less. We need to keep these hands for counting money. Remember later, sweet words don’t hurt. It’s the nineteenth century – we should be civilized.”

This civilized grand leader then turned to Lin Yuchan, reining in that cynical wildness in his eyes, saying gently: “A’Mei?”

She looked at him worriedly.

He quietly gave her a gentle look, saying in a reassuring tone: “Today definitely won’t be a Hongmen Feast. Think carefully about your wording later – how to make accusations so we’re in the right and they’re shameless.”

Lin Yuchan slightly pursed her lips. After such a big fright, she still had to accompany him to meetings as a mascot?

“I feel like you’re using me. What if I don’t go?”

Su Minguan laughed quietly, leaning close to her ear: “You have no choice. I’m kidnapping you.”