Of course, Lin Yuchan happily agreed.
Her firearms skills were only at a beginner level, far from mastery.
However, with the new year approaching, all kinds of businesses were busy. She’d have to wait until after the new year for the next target practice session.
After simply tidying up, Su Minguan returned to Yixing. Lin Yuchan took a brief afternoon nap, then quickly got back to work.
Now her sales channels were mainly wholesale, with retail only a small portion, so closing for two days hadn’t caused much loss. The main priority was the large Maritime Customs orders, which needed to be started as soon as possible.
Fortunately, the “friendly merchant” Yixing Shipping handled all transportation with their long-term cooperation and guaranteed reputation, saving her considerable trouble.
The next day, she had Aunt Zhou go to Boya’s main office to invite Rong Hong over for a shareholders’ meeting, to report next year’s sales plans, and arrange the schedule and personnel for tea processing.
“Sorry to trouble you with the trip,” she said, offering him a teacup with a smile. “It’s just inconvenient for me to go there, you understand.”
Rong Hong smiled: “Actually, Baoluo has been much better recently. You could go say hello.”
Lin Yuchan thought it was better not to, lest she accidentally rekindle someone’s dying embers.
She also mentioned that the hometown banquet would still be held at Renhe Hotel at year’s end. Rong Hong gladly accepted the invitation.
The Taiping Heavenly Kingdom wouldn’t invite him on a second tour. This year, he was spending time in Shanghai.
Then came some clerical matters—bills, contracts, and such that needed Rong Hong’s signature.
While she was busy, Rong Hong began daydreaming again, pulling an English book from his pocket along with a notebook, removing a bookmark, and starting to make marks and drawings, returning to his scholarly appearance.
Lin Yuchan handed over the bills, and he didn’t look carefully, signing everything with his eyes closed.
She wanted to remind him, then thought this showed Rong Hong trusted her—a good thing.
She then asked curiously: “What new book are you translating? You’re so absorbed.”
“Not translating a book, writing one.” Rong Hong proudly turned his notebook toward her. “Take a look.”
Lin Yuchan looked and felt somewhat bewildered.
“What is this, a phonetics textbook?”
The notebook contained Chinese and English, plus some strange symbols that resembled the international phonetic alphabet Lin Yuchan had learned, but weren’t completely consistent. After studying carefully for three minutes, she roughly understood the pattern—
“January, February… ah, twelve months. This is a Western calendar twelve-month chart.”
Rong Hong beamed: “You understood so quickly! While there’s certainly a talent factor, ordinary students shouldn’t find it too difficult either. Miss Lin, what do you think?”
Lin Yuchan vaguely understood what he was doing, her breathing quickening as she thought Hede was moving fast. Wenxiang’s “goading method” really worked.
She opened the next notebook.
“Uh… mathematics?”
Someone had used tiny characters to thoroughly introduce basic concepts and methods of linear equations, densely written on one side of the notebook. It wasn’t written by Rong Hong—his Chinese calligraphy was even worse than Lin Yuchan’s—while the other side contained Rong Hong’s translation draft, rendering this mathematics lesson into simple English.
“Though calculus was my nightmare at Yale, fortunately, this is all basic content, very easy to translate.” Rong Hong smiled. “This is the masterwork of a friend of mine, Li Shanlan. This mathematics textbook is aimed at students with some foundation, like you, who have done business for several years. Miss Lin, do you find it difficult to read?”
For Lin Yuchan, this was naturally content she could recite with eyes closed. However, this Chinese textbook was written in classical Chinese, and she couldn’t read ten lines at a glance, needing to pause frequently to think.
Wait…
She suddenly exclaimed: “Li Shanlan?”
A modern mathematician independently invented logarithmic calculus… Li Shanlan’s identity…
This was a figure posted on the elementary school building walls!
The biographical introduction only said “modern times”—she thought it meant the “modern times” of the Republican period!
Rong Hong didn’t look up, nodding with a bitter smile: “He’s a mathematician, about the same as me, also unrecognized. Oh, right, that Cui Yinmei at the Imperial Maritime Customs is his nephew, learned a bit of his superficial knowledge. When I went to submit my job application, he even used calculus to make things difficult for me.”
Lin Yuchan: “…”
The imperial examinations really should be abolished—how much talent was wasted among the people.
All picked up by Hede.
With so many masters helping, a year later, Shanghai’s Guangfang Language School would crush Beijing’s Tongwen Academy. Hede was sure to win this wager.
At the same time she thought, when Mr. Yinmei saw her, it was always chickens and rabbits in the same cage or water pipe drainage problems—he was really going easy on her.
She smiled and asked: “Didn’t Maritime Customs reject you? A good horse doesn’t eat grass behind it—how come you’re helping them again?”
Rong Hong felt that this girl constantly surprised him. He drank a large gulp of tea and laughed: “Yes, Maritime Customs came looking for me again—how did you know I’m compiling teaching materials for them?”
Lin Yuchan acted mysteriously, not answering.
Her deal with Hede regarding the language school involved some official interest exchanges after all. Hede letting her win the bid was also a small rule violation, so Hede ordered her to keep it secret afterward, not to spread inside information.
She only said: “I heard the Imperial Maritime Customs was ordered to establish a Tongwen Academy branch in Shanghai. Besides, who has such influence to ask you to compile such elementary teaching materials? This benefits the country and people—how can it compare to helping people translate official documents at Maritime Customs?”
Her flattery was sincere, making Rong Hong feel completely comfortable. He took a deep drag of his cigar, shortening it by a third.
After all, not everyone could understand what he was doing.
Chinese culture was profound—they couldn’t even finish learning the Four Books and Five Classics, the teachings of Confucius and Mencius, yet they wanted to establish new-style schools and compile foreign textbooks. Working painstakingly with little compensation—wouldn’t this time be better spent doing something else?
He laughed: “That nonsensical phonetic book you showed me, haha… I really couldn’t bear to let it mislead students. So when Maritime Customs sent people to ask me to compile teaching materials, I agreed without hesitation. They’re starting classes next month, urging quite urgently. I compile one volume, they take it to use immediately—this is now the third volume… Looking back, I should have negotiated a bit, fought for better compensation, hahaha…”
…
The “shareholders’ meeting” continued until dusk. Then someone knocked—Yixing’s clerks had arrived, huffing and puffing as they moved Lin Yuchan’s newly bought safe inside.
Rong Hong took the opportunity to leave: “Miss Lin, I’m going—since you have a safe, store the shop’s profits there for now. I’ll collect them after the new year.”
He hurriedly stuffed those contracts, bills, and teaching material notes into his bag. A printed paper fell out, landing by Lin Yuchan’s feet.
“Oh, bookmark,” seeing Lin Yuchan bending to pick it up, he quickly said: “Just picked it up randomly, don’t need it—let someone sweep it up.”
Lin Yuchan still picked up that “randomly found bookmark” for a look—it was an advertisement.
Paper printing was getting cheaper, and now many shops were starting to distribute flyers and small ads, from silk shops to opium dens. Lin Yuchan had printed quite a few herself, stuffing them into foreign house mailboxes with small packets of tea attached.
This advertisement was from some foreign-invested ironworks—quite novel.
Seeing her studying the advertisement, Rong Hong smiled: “The court now has trends toward vigorously developing industry, attracting many foreign investors to establish factories. This is a good thing. Sigh, when I toured the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom last year, I also made similar suggestions to them, but unfortunately, no one responded… Unexpectedly, it was the Manchu government that figured it out first.”
He sighed for a while, then took his leave.
Lin Yuchan held this advertisement, heart surging.
The “Westernization Movement” had officially begun.
Though her lifespan was only a few decades, eventually disappearing into greater historical tides, at least she had caught up with this unprecedented, most outward-looking era in Qing history.
She read with interest the lines of small text on the advertisement.
“Manufacturing and purchasing various machinery… ship parts… military guns and cannons… steel recycling…”
She suddenly screamed, running toward the door to chase the Yixing clerks who had just finished delivering.
“Brother Peng!” She nearly crashed into Shi Peng, eyes bright with excitement, holding the advertisement high. “This flyer, take it to your boss. Tell him I picked… “
She hesitated a second, slyly changing her words: “Tell him I specifically found this. If he doesn’t understand, have him come ask me.”
Unexpectedly, Boss Su was quite aloof, with no news for several days, not even sending a message.
Lin Yuchan couldn’t help feeling deflated, thinking the advertisement had probably been lost by Brother Peng along the way.
She renewed her contract with Xuhui Tea Shop—this time the tea processing quantity was even more enormous. Shopkeeper Mau couldn’t decide alone, writing to consult with another partner before sending the signed contract.
With Lin Yuchan as a customer, Xuhui Tea Shop was now living comfortably. They hired half again as many masters and renovated the shop—though only adding some calligraphy, paintings, and porcelain vases for decoration, Lin Yuchan felt a confused sense of “why am I helping them make money.”
That’s life as Party A. She told herself to get used to it.
The “Alley Auntie Tea Canister Factory’s” production capacity was completely unable to keep up. On Wu Yangshi’s suggestion, they rented a large courtyard in rural Pudong. That village had bad luck—once occupied and then abandoned by the Taiping Army, half the men were confusedly killed by authorities as rebels, leaving many orphans and widows. One was Wu Yangshi’s relative. So Wu Yangshi outsourced the tea canister processing business to this widow village, hiring the same artist for on-site training while she acted as intermediary, taking a small cut.
The Jiangzhe region had strong commercial traditions, and many women were also skilled at financial management. The two Wu family widows depended on each other and already had rich experience managing households. This year, after more contact with Lin Yuchan, being near ink, they became black, gaining more courage and beginning to organize women’s factories.
Lin Yuchan let this auntie handle things freely. As long as the tea canister quality met standards and costs were controllable, she didn’t care who painted them.
The Wu father and son’s memorial tablets had been completely upgraded, repaired, bright and shining, each topped with a small pavilion, with meat during festivals—surely objects of envy in the underworld.
Finally, there was the transport contract with Yixing.
Since Boss Su obtained Maritime Customs tax exemption tickets, overnight almost half of Shanghai’s Chinese sailing ships flew foreign flags, some hiring actual foreign sailors for authenticity during tax inspections.
Of course, these tax exemption tickets only covered trade ships to inland areas occupied by the Taiping Army. Tax exemption opportunities were a small portion of total shipping costs. But this had already slightly affected Shanghai’s transport industry ecology, reducing shipping costs by six or seven percent.
Lin Yuchan felt it was time to renegotiate prices.
After all, she had first seen this “tax exemption ticket” information on Maritime Customs internal bulletin boards, then helpfully and proactively told Su Minguan. In these treacherous times, such naively sweet “friendly merchants” were rare—wouldn’t his conscience hurt if he didn’t lower prices?
So she chose a cold, windy day, bringing sufficient contract documents, marching aggressively to bargain.
She came up empty.
Shi Peng regretfully told her, “He’s out. If the young lady had come an hour earlier, it would have been perfect. Please drink some tea and wait.”
When Lin Yuchan first met Shi Peng, he was still an insignificant clerk under Chu Nanyun, with a terrible opium addiction, his face written with “getting by” in four large characters, quite repulsive.
Miraculously, since he quit smoking, he shed a layer of skin and gradually became more spirited. Recently, having family good fortune, the money saved from not smoking opium was used to find his son a wife (his mother even wore Lin Yuchan’s custom red diamond-shell premium ceremonial dress at the wedding). Shi Peng had gained considerable prosperity, putting on at least twenty pounds this year.
Since Su Minguan took control of Yixing, he gradually replaced those ill-intentioned clerks and hired many new people. But Shi Peng was always kept as a mirror to the past, constantly reminding him not to slack off.
Shi Peng smiled as he invited Lin Yuchan to the small tea room, clumsily brewing tea, bringing in a brazier, apologizing again: “Next time the young lady comes, she could send advance notice. The boss has been busy recently, and we’re all clumsy—inevitably neglectful.”
Lin Yuchan politely exchanged pleasantries, only then realizing: Yixing’s business was increasingly prosperous, and now anyone wanting to see Boss Su should preferably make appointments.
She never made appointments, always just pushing the door open, basically waiting more than five minutes.
Sometimes he would specifically take a shower and change clothes to avoid being impolite.
Sometimes he would spontaneously accompany her out. Now it seemed he must have stood up for later groups of people.
She felt deeply ashamed. This “regular customer benefit” wouldn’t last much longer.
She thought Yixing should open a branch office. Hopefully those Heaven and Earth Society bigwigs stuck in old ways wouldn’t object.
She slowly drank tea—Boya Hongkou special supply, personally supervised and roasted by her. High-end though it was, drinking it felt completely novel, like left hand touching right hand, quite boring.
Fortunately, after two steps, she heard Su Minguan’s footsteps at the door, striding in. After a few words with the clerks, he pushed open the tea room door.
Cold wind swept along the ground outside as he threw off his cloak while breathing on his hands. The alternating cold and heat brought an obvious flush to his handsome face.
“Miss Lin, sorry to keep you waiting.” Before she could state her purpose, he spoke first, beaming: “You left something here last time. I was afraid of losing it, so I put it away. Come with me to get it.”
Lin Yuchan stood up, somewhat confused: “Last time? Which day? What did I leave?”
She was always very careful, bringing useful documents and such, rarely spreading things out like a vendor. She always checked before leaving.
Su Minguan smiled helplessly, pointing toward the stairway: “Just go get it. This isn’t a pawn shop—no money for pawned items, no compensation if lost.”
She felt somewhat embarrassed by his words and could only hang her cotton jacket on the chair back and follow him upstairs.
Somehow, she felt his eyes were unusually bright today, his steps somewhat floating, urgent, even showing slight hand tremors. If she didn’t know his character, he’d seem like someone who’d smoked too much opium.
The second floor had small guest rooms and a study, storing contracts, registers, documents, and account books. The third floor was the luxurious boss suite. Since last year’s Little New Year, when Yixing changed hands and she spent a night curled up there, she hadn’t been up since.
Lin Yuchan stopped at the door, suspiciously asking: “Put it in your bedroom?”
Su Minguan smiled: “Don’t worry, the furnishings inside were all changed long ago—everything’s clean.”
He still remembered her dislike of that bed. Taking up such a small corner, sleeping curled like a ball—wasn’t that uncomfortable?
Lin Yuchan remembered that night’s terror with considerable emotion and pushed the door open.
Click—a light sound as the door latch secured behind her. Su Minguan said nothing and embraced her.
Lin Yuchan was so startled she couldn’t make a sound, instinctively stepping back until hitting the door. He promptly protected the back of her head with his hand, gathering her head into his chest. Her whole body tensed.
“Don’t be afraid, just a moment. You promised no… intentions.”
His voice trembled badly, his chest also humming with vibration. He lowered his head into her neck, his exhaled warmth drilling into her collar, tickling terribly.
Lin Yuchan gradually relaxed, her nose brushing his warm cheek, smelling faint oolong tea scent.
Only then did she remember she had indeed given an open embrace authorization—during difficult times, they could comfort each other a bit.
No need to consider responsibility or consequences.
He felt quite justified, immediately exercising his rights, hugging quite fiercely.
She struggled to maintain balance within his heavy arms, asking quietly: “What’s wrong?”
Still heavy breathing. He tried to control it, each breath gradually becoming longer, finally mixed with low laughter that made her itch all over.
His arms were very strong—what seemed a casual embrace left her somewhat breathless.
She got a bit annoyed, complaining: “Did it have to be here?”
“Yes.” Su Minguan replied thoughtfully: “The tea room curtains are broken, won’t close properly.”
Lin Yuchan: “…”
And he’d made up that excuse about her leaving something behind. Couldn’t this petty cleverness be used for proper purposes?
Su Minguan chuckled softly, holding her and swaying gently.
“The advertisement you gave me,” he murmured in her ear, “did you get it at American Flagstaff Ironworks?”
Lin Yuchan was embarrassed to say she’d picked it up from the ground, only managing a vague “mm.” She felt light, nearly lifted off the ground by his embrace, her mind floating.
He nuzzled her hair, laughing softly again. For that moment, Lin Yuchan felt he was almost about to kiss her. She tensed for several seconds before he set her down on the ground, looking completely satisfied.
“I understand what you meant. Guangdong is scrapped, not worth repairing. But it still has value.” He walked to the desk, opened a drawer, pulled out a stack of papers, and handed them to her. “Flagstaff Ironworks isn’t the only one distributing advertisements. I secretly visited the recently opened foreign machinery factories—about ten or so, with all conditions recorded here. About half are already open to doing business with the Chinese, and three of them are willing to purchase steamship parts.”
The room’s furnishings were indeed completely changed—the bed replaced with a clean, simple single bamboo couch, all vulgar decorations gone, a bookshelf added with simple ancient books and poetry collections, several English popular novels, and a stack of legal and tax documents.
Su Minguan pulled her to the desk, which had a large paper spread out with neat, elegant handwriting—all his.
“I calculated it. Buy Guangdong, dismantle its steel plates, equipment, and materials, and slightly refurbish them—these items can be sold separately to different ironworks for recycling. The damaged mechanical parts can be repaired—I’ve had people estimate prices, written here. If successful, one steamship broken into parts could sell for fifteen thousand taels of silver, plus leave a steam engine. Fix it up, and it can be installed on my sailing ship—Yixing’s flagship, that sand boat ‘Swallow,’ is just the right size.”
He finished in one breath, like a child who’d completed homework, proudly waiting for praise.
Lin Yuchan found it hard to believe, pulling over a chair to look carefully.
All information was more detailed than she’d expected, with no flaws to be found.
The Qing government auctioned steamships hoping someone would take over and convert them to civilian ships; the foreign merchants gathering at the auction also hoped to buy a good, cheap cargo ship, fix it up and use it—picking up a bargain.
Unexpectedly, Guangdong was too badly damaged, almost scrap metal. That’s why no one would buy it, causing the failed auction.
Unless…
Someone treated it as scrap metal to sell.
Selling scrap metal was also an art. It had to be carefully dismantled, sorted by wear level into different grades, then matched with buyers with different needs, bit by bit, piece by piece, dismembered and divided…
When she got the advertisement, she’d also had a flash of inspiration, wanting to provide Su Minguan with a problem-solving approach.
Unexpectedly, he’d moved so fast, already presenting a perfect answer sheet.
Lin Yuchan suddenly turned around. Su Minguan looked tired, only his eyes spirited, unable to hide the smile at their corners.
She casually pulled over a stool, pointing to it and asking with a smile: “These past days, your legs nearly ran off, right?”
He unceremoniously sat beside her, saying: “Operating this way, at least I can get a steam engine for free to install on Swallow.”
When a ship owner names his beloved vessel, he probably places his greatest dreams in life and career. For instance, Yixing’s flagship, launched over ten years ago, was called “Swallow,” meaning to run flying fast.
Unfortunately, it lived up to its name poorly, slow as a turtle. Since Su Minguan took over, he’d been quite disdainful of it, always wanting to renovate it, not just for a day or two.
He had long coveted that strange and ingenious Western machinery. Having conceived this idea, he would never forget or give up, even using crooked methods to eventually realize it.
However, after Lin Yuchan carefully studied his plan, she still coughed lightly.
“According to your calculations, the entire steamship broken into parts could sell for fifteen thousand taels,” she said softly. “But that day’s auction bidding was at least twenty-five thousand taels at the lowest. Don’t tell me you plan to spend an extra ten thousand taels to buy a steam engine…”
Su Minguan pressed his index finger to his lips, looking at her with curved eyes in a lazy manner.
“Of course not,” he pressed his finger to his lips, lowering his voice to speak slowly. “Otherwise, what do you think I spent this morning doing?”
He stood up, hung his outer coat on a rack, pulled out a handkerchief, and dramatically wiped his sweat.
“I went to the auction committee and negotiated the price down to fifteen thousand taels. My throat’s nearly dry.”
Lin Yuchan held her breath.
“Already paid the deposit. A’Mei, thanks to you—from today, Guangdong belongs to us.”