Lin Yuchan was old wine in a new bottle—as a modern young person with no taboos, she spoke without any coyness.
Su Minguan was stunned by her directness, his face quickly flushing red, then refusing to be outdone in frankness: “Then go ahead.”
Lin Yuchan stomped her foot lightly: “There’s no place.”
“Why not?”
Lin Yuchan didn’t answer, looking left and right like an ant on a hot pan. Men were coming and going in the warehouse, some even collecting tea scraps from the ground to brew water for drinking. Hearing the kettle gurgling, she became even more unable to bear it.
She felt some regret—Shopkeeper Wang’s killer move was clearly to force her to hurry back to the mansion and stay put. This era had no public toilets on the streets. What woman would stay outside her home compound for an entire day?
Even more infuriating, Su Minguan was taking advantage of her predicament to interrogate her: “I see Shopkeeper Wang treats you badly. What grievance do you two have? Tell me, and I might be able to help you find a convenient place.”
Lin Yuchan’s face was completely red, and without thinking she spilled everything: “I—that Shopkeeper Wang bought me to give to Young Master Qi but who knew the young master changed his mind and didn’t want me I didn’t want to be sold off so I pestered Shopkeeper Wang shamelessly asking him to let me work as a laborer in the tea shop but he hasn’t agreed yet…”
Su Minguan’s mouth curved up. He patted her shoulder once and turned to leave the warehouse.
Lin Yuchan gave a start and followed.
Not forgetting to explain cleverly in her urgency: “Young master, this doesn’t count as helping me—if I get sick from holding it in, there’ll be no one to show you the tea, so it’s mutually beneficial…”
Su Minguan walked quickly across the street, following an uneven stone path straight down, and in moments reached the waterfront dock. Houses lined the shore in a row, crowded but orderly. Fishing nets hung drying on the dock, and large and small sailing boats stood in forest-like rows on the water, gently colliding with the waves while the breeze carried waves of fishy smell.
The dock’s open ground was full of simple courtyards built by fishermen themselves. Su Minguan knocked twice on a door.
In the courtyard, three or five poor young women wearing cloth aprons were drying fish.
Guangdong’s climate was hot and humid, making fresh fish caught at sea prone to spoilage, so most sea fish had to be processed immediately upon landing through salting and drying. Generally in fishing families, the men went out to sea early in the morning to fish, returning at sunrise to complete their day’s work. The remaining processing and selling was all done by the women.
But this courtyard had no men visible, only those three or five women, looking rather like a workshop factory.
“Oh my, Young Master Minguan?” A young woman with a red sash around her waist stood up in surprise. “Didn’t you say you were going north to do business? Why haven’t you left?”
“Still have some matters to wrap up.” Su Minguan said briefly, pointing to Lin Yuchan. “Aunt Hong, let us borrow your latrine.”
Aunt Hong asked no questions, cheerfully greeting Lin Yuchan: “Little sister, this way!”
The fishing family’s so-called “latrine” was unexpectedly clean. Adjacent to the dock, connected below to the Pearl River with gurgling flowing water—very environmentally friendly.
Lin Yuchan was “saved from desperate straits” and felt two or three pounds lighter.
Aunt Hong also generously offered: “Little sister, you’re Young Master Minguan’s friend? If you need anything in the future, come here anytime to take care of it!”
Lin Yuchan’s admiration for Su Minguan flowed like an endless river of water. Bouncing and jumping while curious: “How do you all know this… er, Young Master Minguan?”
Aunt Hong shook her glossy hair bun and smiled: “Who on Shangxiajiu doesn’t know Little Minguan? Sigh, speaking of it, he’s a poor child. His father was a great merchant of the old Thirteen Factories, but sadly went bankrupt. He’s been doing odd jobs and helping out in the markets since childhood, suffered quite a bit, and often patronized our business. Those of us who know him call him ‘young master’ as a joke. Actually, among those making a living on Shangxiajiu, who has it easy!”
Lin Yuchan nodded, not expecting that Young Master Xiao Bai’s seemingly bizarre background was no fabrication.
She asked: “Then he now…”
He’s now working at Jardine Matheson & Co.—did Aunt Hong know?
She had just begun to ask when she suddenly felt the air pressure around her drop. Su Minguan approached the doorway, snapped his fingers, and interrupted Lin Yuchan and Aunt Hong’s conversation.
He gave Lin Yuchan a warning look: “Take me back to the warehouse for another look.”
This time, Lin Yuchan was light as a swallow, running and jumping with great energy. She introduced Su Minguan to every corner of the warehouse, including all her morning observations.
“…These are all raw tea. Defeng Trading House has specialized buyers who go to the countryside to collect tea from farmers. The purchase price is naturally confidential—only Accountant Zhan knows… When foreign merchants come to buy tea, they usually send compradors. I saw two or three this morning. Every day the tea market has an opening price, written on that little wooden board…”
Su Minguan remained silent most of the time, but his eyes weren’t idle—like two extremely powerful magnets, slowly scanning every corner of the warehouse.
“Where is the tea refining done?” he suddenly asked.
“Behind that small door.” Lin Yuchan answered. “But Defeng Trading House treasures their tea-making techniques. That door is never opened—entry and exit require registration…”
She looked left and right, always feeling that Su Minguan didn’t seem like a proper comprador. Suddenly, another thought jumped into her mind, and she quietly asked another question she shouldn’t have: “Young Master Minguan, you’re not here to steal trade secrets, are you?”
“Steal secrets? I think Qi Chongli stole from my family.” Su Minguan sneered coldly. “If you keep talking nonsense, I won’t praise you in front of your shopkeeper.”
Lin Yuchan felt a slight chill in her heart.
She had endured humiliation and worked herself to death all day just to make Wang Quan feel she still had value, so he wouldn’t treat her as a gift and randomly sell her to some poor bachelor.
Su Minguan keenly noticed this point and thus made a subtle threat.
After unloading her burden, Lin Yuchan felt completely relaxed and had a rather absurd thought, saying softly: “Actually, I have no friendship or obligation with that shopkeeper… I quite dislike him… If you’re willing, young master, fifteen taels of silver could buy me away. I would be loyal to my new master…”
Su Minguan was stunned for a moment, then suddenly smiled, stroking his chin.
“Buy you for what? To serve me?”
Lin Yuchan: “…”
“Sorry, no spare money right now.”
He would buy two thousand pounds of tea without batting an eye, but fifteen taels for a servant girl—no spare money. Before 1863 arrived, he didn’t plan to do another good deed.
Lin Yuchan had nothing to say. She had to help Su Minguan negotiate this business deal.
Shopkeeper Wang Quan was holding up the glasses on his nose, concentrating intently on tending to a set of kumquat bonsai in the corner of the counter, muttering: “These fools don’t know how to prune—dead branches sticking out will ruin the feng shui…”
He suddenly saw Lin Yuchan bouncing back lively and was so shocked he nearly dropped his scissors.
“You…”
This girl had held it in until now and still hadn’t wet herself?
Lin Yuchan smiled magnanimously, supporting herself at the door, waiting for Su Minguan to enter.
“Shopkeeper, good day to you.”
Su Minguan got straight to the point.
“Shopkeeper, I’ve looked at your raw tea—too damp. My buyer wants refined fine tea, and it can’t have any smoky flavor.”
Wang Quan was stunned for a moment, picked up a cup of tea from the counter and sipped it, masking his surprise.
Business was hard to do these days. Ever since the foreigners signed treaties with the officials, “single port trade” became “five port trade,” and fewer and fewer foreign merchants came to Guangzhou. Wang Quan didn’t understand—even if the Thirteen Factories were gone, Guangzhou’s various merchants had been rising and falling in commercial seas since the founding of the Qing Dynasty, dealing with foreigners for hundreds of years. How could they not compare to places like Ningbo and Shanghai? Those rustic areas—how many ships could their docks berth? How many people understood foreign languages and foreign customs? Why did the foreign masters flock there instead, willing to sail two extra days to do business there?
Wang Quan concluded that foreigners, despite having strong ships and powerful cannons, simply weren’t very bright.
In any case, with fewer customers who had also become more demanding, Young Master Su’s first visit today, revealing purchase intentions, was truly rare.
“No problem, no problem,” Wang Quan replied refreshed. “You can trust our goods’ quality—stable, not like small trading houses that change every day…”
Su Minguan interrupted: “I want to personally watch you process the tea.”
Wang Quan: “This…”
Raw tea collected by dealers from the countryside had quality that was obvious at a glance, and wouldn’t differ much in price at any tea house. But foreigners drank refined tea, which required tea houses to specially hire people for processing.
The knowledge involved here was extensive. Slight differences in heat control, containers, and sifting methods could make the refined tea leaves vastly different.
Defeng Trading House’s competitive advantage in tea trading lay in collecting a group of master craftsmen from the Thirteen Factories era, keeping them employed specifically for this purpose. The tea refining process was never revealed to outsiders.
Moreover, foreigners were also grouped. Take tea drinking—the British had British preferences, and Russians had Russian preferences. Even among the British, there were distinctions like Scottish, London, Welsh… Defeng Trading House’s tea masters were well-versed in all this, always able to produce goods that perfectly suited foreign tastes.
Wang Quan shook his head and smiled: “Young master, you don’t understand this. Our tea-making techniques are strictly confidential. Last year, the Assam Company offered an astronomical sum of silver, but our master didn’t budge an inch. You see…”
He gauged Su Minguan’s expression. He’d seen many young people making their living in Guangzhou’s commercial world—newborn calves unafraid of tigers, making wild demands and randomly pressing prices. He didn’t take offense.
He offered a compromise: “…How about this—sample tea from each processing step, I’ll have someone send it to you for inspection?”
Su Minguan weighed this and nodded.
“Very well.” He pointed to Lin Yuchan. “Next time, have her receive me again.”
This was treating her as a tea house clerk. Following conventions passed down from the Thirteen Factories era, each customer was assigned a dedicated clerk for full service, called a “tongshi” (liaison)—if it was a distinguished major customer, the shopkeeper would personally attend. If business was concluded, the liaison would get a commission. If unfortunately the deal fell through, preliminary expenses like tea and refreshments would come from the liaison’s own pocket.
Wang Quan had no choice but to give Lin Yuchan a withering look, then smilingly saw Su Minguan out.
“Farewell, farewell. Next time you visit, young master, please send word in advance.”
Wang Quan returned to the shop and quietly ordered a clerk: “Go investigate that Young Master Su—see if he was sent by foreigners to probe our operations.”