At the entrance of Yixing Shipping Company, business had once flourished in days past, with customers lining up in long queues to discuss deals. Yet it had never been as tumultuous as today—the heavy wooden door groaned under the assault of angry fists pounding against it with thunderous knocks.
Creditors and wronged parties clamored noisily at the entrance, shouting, “Su Minguan, pay back the money!” No one noticed that the very person they were calling for was currently hiding around a corner in an alley several dozen meters away.
Before him stood a young girl nearly bristling with fury.
“Don’t move!” Lin Yuchan clenched her fists, speaking in hushed tones. “I’ll help you drive them away.”
Before she could take a single step, Su Minguan gripped her wrist firmly.
“A’Mei,” his eyes filled with warning, “this is not your responsibility.”
She showed no sign of backing down: “I’ve taken on plenty of trivial matters—one more won’t make a difference.”
Su Minguan’s voice grew more stern: “They’ll ask what you are to me.”
Lin Yuchan was momentarily at a loss for words.
Oh, an unmarried “lover” without proper matchmaking or betrothal, sent out to take the heat at a crucial moment—if people caught even a whiff of this implication, Su Minguan’s reputation would be ruined, her credibility destroyed, and she might even be dragged into paying compensation alongside him.
But after thinking it over, her attitude remained resolute. In a businesslike tone, she said, “I am a shareholder of Yixing. Though my stake is small and I don’t participate in business decisions, these people are clearly about to smash up your shop. Out of concern for protecting my investment, I must intervene. Moreover, I believe that Boss Su’s current physical condition makes him unsuitable for handling the present crisis. A wise man does not court immediate disaster—retreating now would not be shameful.”
Su Minguan breathed shallowly, struck speechless by her words, his wound throbbing with burning pain as if fire blazed within his abdomen.
He had to admit that what he needed most right now was rest.
Not exhausting himself trying to clean up this mess, pushing himself to the limit again and again.
He suddenly realized that in this world, someone cared for him more than he cared for himself.
The sharp edge in Su Minguan’s eyes gradually faded. Leaning against the mottled brick wall, he gently wiped the cold sweat from his forehead.
“A’Mei, look carefully.” His voice was hoarse from blood loss but remained logically clear. “Observe these people’s words and behavior—they don’t seem to have gathered by chance.”
With his hint, Lin Yuchan observed more carefully, her expression growing grave. Indeed, customers coming to demand insurance “compensation” due to Yixing’s lost cargo were unlikely to know each other, let alone form deep friendships and coordinate to arrive together to demand payment and apply pressure while spreading unfounded rumors—all before any compensation plan had even been outlined.
Lin Yuchan suddenly thought of a possibility and immediately flew into a rage: “Could someone be stirring up trouble… could someone be deliberately kicking you while you’re down, making life difficult for you? The Jardine Matheson trading house?”
Su Minguan gave a cold laugh, which then transformed into a slightly bitter smile.
“Renji Hospital is a foreign hospital. It wouldn’t be difficult for trading house people to track my movements. They probably assume I’m still under anesthesia, unconscious in some hospital room, so they deliberately chose this time to incite the wronged parties to block our door. If my staff were intimidated by this scene and opened the door, foolishly agreeing to compensation terms, by this time tomorrow, with Yixing’s cash reserves exhausted, people would be breaking down the door to seize goods and haul away furniture.”
Before he finished speaking, he suddenly saw another group rushing toward them from across the street!
This group was even more aggressive—five or six burly ruffians carrying ten-odd clubs, charging menacingly toward Yixing Shipping.
Su Minguan’s expression stiffened as he amended his words.
“Look, they can’t even wait to make their move.”
He gave her a reassuring smile, his finger gently tickling her palm.
“So we must respond to battle. Isn’t that right, Madam Shareholder?”
Lin Yuchan stood dazed for a moment, staring blankly as the chaos escalated. Suddenly coming to her senses, she yanked Su Minguan back.
She used too much force, aggravating his wound.
He frowned, about to voice a complaint when she leaned close to his ear, slightly excited, saying: “Wait a moment.”
She recognized them. This second wave of troublemaking thugs wasn’t creditors—they were the dock bullies from Shiliupu Wharf!
Having been tricked by her once, they remained unsatisfied and had chosen this very moment to come to Yixing seeking revenge.
The dock bullies charged forward with killing intent, only to discover that Yixing was apparently “well-prepared”—quite a few people were already “standing guard” at the entrance. They all stopped short, looking at each other.
But seeing that these “defenders” were all dressed as merchants—some pot-bellied, others refined and scholarly, completely unlike qualified gang members—the dock bullies relaxed.
“Which one of you is the boss?” The head bully stepped forward, hands on hips, his arm muscles instantly bulging and stretching his sleeves to their limits. “Tell him to come out and talk to us!”
The group of “wronged parties” all jumped in fright, whispering among themselves: “Are these reinforcements Yixing called in?”
But the “reinforcements” were few, so the “wronged parties” encouraged each other and began shouting defiantly: “What’s this? You’re in the wrong, and now you want to fight? We knew your Yixing ‘hometown association’ was fishy—none of you are decent people! Come on! Come on! If you don’t pay compensation, we’ll report you to the authorities. Let’s see who’s afraid of whom!”
The dock bullies, who dominated Shiliupu Wharf, had never suffered such mockery. Before the words were finished, they flew into a rage, howling and swinging their fists at people.
In an instant, bloody noses and fists flew together, hats and shoe soles sharing the same fate. The entire street erupted in chaos.
Even when some realized there might be a misunderstanding, before they could ask a single question, fists and clubs were already swinging toward their faces.
The criminal elements of Shanghai were relatively civilized, believing in talking rather than fighting. When they did occasionally brawl, the primary principle was speed—finishing quickly before the police arrived, with no time for careful investigation of the facts.
It wasn’t until the patrol police arrived, firing warning shots to control the scene and indiscriminately arresting the leaders from both sides at the police station, that the remainder dispersed like birds and beasts.
The entrance to Yixing was left in shambles, with dozens of shoes, several torn clothing fragments, two broken wooden clubs, and half a pigtail from some unfortunate soul scattered on the ground.
Dozens of meters away at the alley corner, Su Minguan watched the entire farce from beginning to end in complete amazement, mouth slightly agape, unable to make heads or tails of it. For the first time, he felt his intelligence might be insufficient.
Lin Yuchan covered her mouth, beside herself with laughter.
“That’s right, those were the reinforcements I called in, haha… I’ll explain in detail later, haha haha…”
Seizing the opportunity while the entrance was quiet, they quickly had the Yixing staff open the door.
The staff, having been like turtles hiding in their shells all day, were both frustrated and anxious, pacing like ants on a hot pan. Seeing Su Minguan, they all began voicing their grievances: “Boss, what are we to do? They’re all demanding full compensation, and we don’t have that much cash on hand! They scattered mysteriously today, but who knows when they’ll return!”
“Shush,” Lin Yuchan, as a shareholder, quite impolitely asked these men to be quiet. “External matters can be discussed later. Minguan needs rest. You must at least give him a day and night of peace.”
Only then did the group of rough men notice how pale Su Minguan’s complexion was, and they quickly covered their mouths.
Having held on until now, Su Minguan lacked the strength to say another word. He gave a look, having everyone thank Miss Lin.
Then he had them help him back to his bedroom with all hands.
The Yixing staff had originally weathered many storms, unafraid of dealing with debt collectors and fraudsters, but today’s sinister “door-blocking” truly left them at a loss. Shi Peng squatted at the entrance, restoring the earth god shrine by the door while grinding his teeth: “Miss Lin, the people today surely had expert guidance behind them, perhaps even promised some benefit. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have spoken with such unified voices, specifically targeting our weak points.”
Su Minguan maintained clear boundaries in his business dealings and was reluctant to have Lin Yuchan interfere with Yixing’s affairs. But his subordinates didn’t necessarily share such strong principles. Miss Lin was both a shareholder and seemed somewhat like the boss’s wife. Recently, for Rong Hong’s rescue operation, she had been coming and going from Yixing more frequently than when conducting business before. Everyone had become completely familiar with her, so when encountering difficulties today, they naturally turned to her for consultation.
In any case, Su Minguan upstairs hadn’t spoken to forbid it, so they took it as his tacit approval.
“There’s someone pulling strings behind the scenes.” Lin Yuchan also casually replied, picking up a cloth to help wipe shoe prints from the door while saying, “The key question is: do you intend to compensate for this shipment of lost goods? If you can’t afford compensation, why did you sign that insurance agreement in the first place?”
Shi Peng said, “Miss, you don’t understand. Our shipping business is different from your tea and silk trade. Though we appear to have substantial assets, it’s all debt and receivables—we keep very little cash on hand. Insurance claims are normally once-in-a-hundred occurrences. When they do happen, we can borrow to pay compensation and slowly repay the loans later. But since the trading houses issued their embargo against us last year, Yixing can barely secure any loans. The insurance agreements can’t be changed, and with debts from purchasing steam ships, compensation becomes extraordinarily difficult. Originally, our Yixing ships were the safest on the Yangtze River routes. After all, out of respect, if not for ourselves, then for Buddha’s face, all the bandits along the way, regardless of their background, would give face to our Heaven and Earth Society. This time we were truly caught off guard and calculated against.”
He poured out a string of grievances like beans from a bamboo tube, then added angrily: “But look at those ‘wronged parties’ and their attitudes—even if we sold everything to pay full compensation, they’d only think we deserved it. We certainly wouldn’t get a word of praise, only ‘serves you right!’ In my opinion, we shouldn’t pay at all! The insurance clause clearly states, ‘no compensation during wartime.’ Anyone who wants to nitpick can file their lawsuit! We’ll see it through!”
The other staff all echoed: “We shouldn’t pay! Yixing never plays the fool!”
But this was just empty bravado. After venting their anger, everyone sighed one by one.
The foreigners were playing one move after another. The crisis Yixing faced today was more vicious than last year’s near-cash-flow crisis when they bought the steam ship.
First, even if they suspected the foreigners were the masterminds behind the bandit attack, they couldn’t file charges, since foreigners enjoyed extraterritorial rights. Not only would it not harm them in the slightest, it would invite even fiercer retaliation.
Second, if they accepted their fate and paid compensation, Yixing would certainly suffer major financial losses. When competitors joined forces to crush them, the shipping company’s very survival would be precarious.
If they firmly refused to pay…
Yixing’s so-called “insurance clauses” were quite advanced commercial operations for this era. Even if Yixing refused compensation, they wouldn’t face legal sanctions—at worst, they’d be cursed and face lawsuits for years.
But with foreigners behind the wronged parties fanning the flames, each person would spread damaging words, stirring up public opinion until Yixing’s reputation was destroyed.
Either way led to death. Whether they stuck their necks out or pulled them in, it was just the difference between dying quickly or slowly.
Perhaps Chinese shipping was destined to die at foreign hands sooner or later.
The Yixing staff, backed by the Hongmen Heaven and Earth Society, normally operated in both legitimate and illegitimate circles as boss-level figures. Now they were downcast, unable to see a future.
When they came back to their senses, Miss Lin had quietly departed, leaving a densely written “medical prescription” on the table, along with four handwritten characters:
“Let him rest!”
Returning to Boya Hongkou, Lin Yuchan was surprised to see several people gathered at her entrance!
The mess at Yixing Shipping was immediately pushed from her mind. She hurried closer to look—
“Miss Compton,” she breathed a sigh of relief, smiling as she greeted several Western ladies and misses, “how did you come to be here?”
“It’s Sunday.” Loyal customer Miss Compton pointed dissatisfiedly at the padlock on the door. “Surely you haven’t forgotten our weekly afternoon tea? I say, Luna, don’t you go picking up that Chinese habit of being unpunctual.”
Lin Yuchan smiled politely, automatically filtering out Miss Compton’s last remark, and took out her keys to open the door.
“Of course I haven’t forgotten. Just had some business that delayed me. Please, come in.”
Smiling on the surface, her heart felt cold. Rong Hong’s whereabouts remained unknown, his life or death uncertain. Her shop was barely staying afloat, with red ink in the account books daily. How could she have the heart to serve Western ladies afternoon tea?
However, since they were customers, she had to treat them well. After all, Boya Fine Tea’s initial reputation was built through word-of-mouth among these ladies and misses.
Lin Yuchan didn’t forget her roots. Though the weekly afternoon tea was unprofitable, she was determined that as long as Boya Hongkou could operate for one more day, she would persist in holding these weekly afternoon teas.
Moreover, Miss Compton’s group of Western ladies was the first batch of customers Lin Yuchan had attracted through her abilities. After Rong Hong’s incident, customers from his network had successively canceled cooperation with Boya—some from opportunism, others for self-preservation, causing her substantial losses. Only Miss Compton and these Western innocents continued to patronize her shop without regard for consequences, giving Lin Yuchan the beautiful illusion that “business was still operating normally.”
She ran into the courtyard, quickly setting up tables, chairs, and parasols, then rushed to the kitchen to wash her hands and boil water.
Aunt Zhou wasn’t there—she had taken Aunt Hong and other spinster women to the county town to purchase clothing, shoes, socks, and other daily necessities.
Lin Yuchan personally brewed tea; fortunately, her skills hadn’t grown rusty. Then she found fresh pastries from the kitchen, carefully cutting and arranging them. In moments, she had prepared a presentable East-meets-West afternoon tea spread.
Soon, the colorful little garden filled with melodious chatter as the Western ladies and misses relaxed in conversation.
Having afternoon tea in their back gardens meant annoying servants gossiping nearby, with husbands and fathers occasionally intruding—very restrictive. But in this discreet Chinese girl’s courtyard, everyone could speak freely without reservation, chatting about anything under the sun.
“Emma, I read your letter. You seem quite resentful toward your father,” someone laughed at Miss Compton. “Now that we’re alone, you can speak freely. Did he find you a husband who’s too old?”
Hearing gossip was afoot, several heads of various colors immediately clustered around Miss Compton.
“Hmph, he wouldn’t dare.” Miss Compton bit into a scone, speaking indignantly. “Luna knows about this. Last year he tried to marry me to a wealthy cripple. I ruined three of his suits. The next day, he could only wear a Chinese mandarin jacket borrowed from the male servant to work at the newspaper—hilarious.”
Lin Yuchan suppressed her laughter, nodding nearby to confirm Miss Compton’s account.
The other ladies laughed heartily.
Having known Miss Compton for a year now, her spoiled temperament grew daily. If one overlooked her ignorant prejudices about Chinese people, she was quite a lovable girl.
Lin Yuchan refilled Miss Compton’s tea, carefully measuring her words: “Parents worldwide hope to arrange good lives for their children, yet always forget to ask if this is truly what they want.”
This platitude suddenly struck Miss Compton’s emotions. She slapped the table, her eyes reddening.
“No, he’s not doing it for my good at all! He knows I love writing and learned from my governess about my talent with words. When I write poetry and plays at home, he always praises me, saying my word choice and phrasing rival any man’s—but when I suggested interning at his newspaper, he refused without a thought and lectured me all evening, saying how could a girl become a news reporter! This old fogey—what right does he have to deny me work just because I’m a girl?”
Miss Compton grew more agitated as she spoke, finally standing up to deliver an impassioned accusation to her group of gorgeously dressed female companions:
“Miss Nightingale has already made nursing a respectable female profession, and in my homeland England, women are marching in the streets for voting rights—yet he, Mr. Arthur Compton, chief editor of the North China Herald, can discuss international affairs expertly but still fails to recognize that women entering public spheres is an unstoppable trend. His daughter won’t become unmarriageable from writing an article for the newspaper! I’m so disappointed in him!”
After this speech, the entire table of ladies fell into strange silence.
After a long while, Mrs. Butler laughed softly: “Miss Compton, don’t let those European feminist agitators lead you astray. They’re all ugly old spinsters seeking attention—your father is right. A woman’s job is managing the household. If you want to participate in public affairs, your father and husband are sufficient. Can’t you use your gentleness and wisdom to influence them? We all admire your literary talent. Your six-line poems are already circulating among the ladies’ circles, earning universal praise. Isn’t that enough? Must you see your name published in newspapers for some empty fame? What use would that be?”
Miss Compton grabbed her brown curls, glaring defiantly at her opponent, momentarily at a loss for how to retort.
Mrs. Spencer shrugged, pointing out bluntly: “Mr. Compton is a perfect gentleman. His only shortcoming is having such a rebellious daughter. Honestly, Emma, he shouldn’t have brought you to China. When girls think they’ve seen the world, their attitudes become wild—that’s not good. You should return to England and live with your grandmother for a few years. You’ll forget these impractical ideas.”
These words were rather harsh. Several considerate ladies quickly smoothed things over: “Mrs. Spencer, you should manage your daughter. Isn’t she making noise about marrying a young Chinese man? Hehe.”
Though meant as peacemaking, they were stirring up more trouble. Mrs. Spencer, reminded of her family’s shame, blushed and fell silent.
Miss Lake took Miss Compton’s hand, laughing softly: “Emma, you don’t realize how many men envy our lives—not needing to work, with food and clothing provided. We can leisurely enjoy afternoon tea in gardens every day, while men can only sneak bites of pastries in their offices during busy moments—would you want to trade places with them? I certainly wouldn’t—oh look, Luna has made almond cakes with sugar frosting. I’ve never tasted this flavor. You must try some.”
The topic successfully veered back to food and drink. Miss Compton sighed softly, smiled again, and resumed chatting about family gossip with her friends.
Seeing the sky changing, the Western ladies warmly bid each other farewell, heading home to prepare dinner.
This plastic friendship seemed undamaged by the incident.
Though today’s afternoon tea was hastily prepared, Lin Yuchan personally assisted, providing very attentive service. Everyone left generous tips, departing satisfied.
Miss Compton was still waiting for her carriage when her shoulder was lightly tapped.
She started slightly, turning around: “Luna?”
Having known this well-behaved Chinese girl for a year, Miss Compton’s prejudice against Chinese people had somewhat lessened. She knew Lin Yuchan didn’t carry fleas, lice, or infectious diseases, nor would she perform mysterious witchcraft. Being tapped by her was harmless.
“Miss Compton,” Lin Yuchan carefully chose her words, “I… I think what you said earlier was very good.”
Miss Compton looked puzzled, glancing down at her: “What words of mine? My suggestion about the tailoring of Miss Smith’s birthday ball gown?”
“No,” Lin Yuchan said, “about… women entering public affairs.”
Though she and Miss Compton were acquaintances, their previous conversations had only covered tea, pastries, and charity. This was the first time discussing other topics—she wondered if the young lady would give her face.
Fortunately, Miss Compton didn’t feel she was overstepping boundaries.
“I was just talking casually,” she said, supporting her rigid corset somewhat embarrassedly. “What’s so great about writing for newspapers anyway? Who cares about that bit of payment—it’s not even enough to make one dress.”
Lin Yuchan suppressed a smile.
“In some respects, England is as backward as China, isn’t it?”
Miss Compton: “…”
Unable to refute this—how infuriating.
Lin Yuchan’s heart raced as she calculated rapidly, her heartbeat slightly accelerating. Choosing her words carefully, she said slowly: “A suggestion. The North China Herald accepts anonymous submissions. You could consider… waiting until after publication to tell your father, leaving him speechless…”
“That won’t work.” Miss Compton had already considered this dirty trick, shaking her head. “My father knows my writing style. Whether poetry or plays, he’d recognize it immediately.”
“What about news reporting?” Lin Yuchan immediately said. “Objective, emotionally neutral fact-based reporting… um, shouldn’t reveal your writing style. Writing a news report as an anonymous journalist—if it’s compelling enough, they’ll publish it. I’ve seen such precedents.”
Miss Compton was intrigued by this idea, slightly furrowing her brows.
The coachman politely asked her to board. She waved him off impatiently, telling him to wait.
“It won’t work.” But she subsequently said disappointedly, “I stay home every day. The news I see and hear is all stale, week-old stuff. Trust me, if I dared run to the docks gathering fresh stories, my mother would break my legs.”
Lin Yuchan looked up, her gaze bright and clear, meeting Miss Compton’s brown eyes.
“Actually… I have ready-made exclusive news material here. I was originally planning to approach your father’s newspaper with the story. But after hearing your speech today, I think if you were to write it, it would certainly be more detailed and compelling. I wonder, Miss Compton, would you do me the honor?”
The tea seller had suddenly become a job placement agent. Miss Compton took a moment to process this, suspiciously examining this petite, quick-eyed Chinese girl, thinking she didn’t seem to have a history of deception.
“What… what do you mean? What material do you have?”
“Let’s work together to write a perfect in-depth report. Then submit it anonymously to the North China Herald. If it’s fortunate enough to pass review and be published, that would prove that Miss Compton, as a woman, can also write objectively and think sharply. At that point, if your father still insists you’re unsuitable for journalism…”
Lin Yuchan smiled sincerely, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
“Then I’m out of options. But at least it would make him very troubled and question his life, wouldn’t it?”
Miss Compton remained silent for a long while, then suddenly burst into giggles, punching Lin Yuchan’s shoulder hard.
For a lady, this action was quite rude and rebellious.
“I’d like to see what news this Eastern little witch can have me write. Come on, let’s go back and brew another pot of tea. Tell me everything.”
“It’s too late today.” Lin Yuchan politely saw her guest off. “Come find me in three days.”