Boya Trading House’s assets had been compressed as much as possible: the warehouse storing raw tea had been disposed of. Loans that couldn’t be extended had been repaid. Boya Hongkou still hadn’t closed due to some remaining orders, but successors with rental intentions had been found. Old orders were canceled when possible, and penalty fees were negotiated when feasible. After months of chaos and upheaval, less than a thousand taels of silver remained.
The Boya staff voted to decide it was time to cease operations.
Even though Lin Yuchan maintained an optimistic attitude about Rong Hong’s safety, she now had to accept reality.
Even if he were a historical figure, encyclopedia entries could only cover a few major events in his life. As for the mundane years between these major events…
Who knew? Perhaps he was missing and imprisoned during all of them.
The burden of reality could crush a person. If they continued struggling, Lin Yuchan feared she’d have to reinvest even her first earnings from selling tea. Chang Baoluo wouldn’t even be able to get married.
Boya Trading House had diverse business operations with a complex variety of goods, fitting Rong Hong’s aesthetic tastes but completely at odds with most Chinese and foreign merchants’ business preferences. Therefore, no one was willing to take over blindly—everything had to be sold separately.
As chairman of the “Temporary Joint Management Committee,” Lin Yuchan was busy beyond measure. For today’s final liquidation, she had contacted a group of fellow merchants and was now working with Chang Baoluo in a division of labor, negotiating prices bit by bit.
Emerald ivy surrounded the uneven walls of the small foreign-style building. A bee flew through the window, buzzing around between the numbered furniture and shelves.
Lin Yuchan saw Su Minguan approaching from afar and only had time to wave at him.
Su Minguan was very dissatisfied with this treatment, quickening his pace and heading straight for her.
Lin Yuchan was conversing with a secondhand furniture dealer. Catching sight of him from the corner of her eye, she gestured repeatedly, asking him to wait.
Su Minguan inserted himself into the conversation, apologizing as his coat tails flew sideways, his domineering CEO aura fully activated, startling the furniture dealer who repeatedly said: “Perhaps this humble person should return this afternoon?”
“A’Mei,” Su Minguan pulled her to a corner, speaking as briefly as possible, “Don’t act yet.”
Lin Yuchan was completely confused. “You said you’d help supervise…”
“Remember I mentioned taking over Yixing’s tea warehouse in Anqing?” Su Minguan cut off her words, quickly whispering, “That manager is a Heaven and Earth Society brother who’s slack in business but has broad connections. Today I just received word that early this month, they saw Rong Hong released nearby.”
Lin Yuchan felt the surrounding air quiet for a moment.
Where was Anqing? Anhui?
Then she shook her head in disbelief: “Then Mr. Rong should have returned long ago. Sending messages also takes time—it wouldn’t be much faster than him traveling. Is the news reliable?”
Su Minguan smiled slightly: “I’m just passing along a message. The rest is for you to judge.”
—
—
Rong Hong had arranged to meet several friends for a long-missed roast beef dinner at his usual Western restaurant, then sat on a park bench to finish a cigar before slowly rising, picking up his luggage, and strolling to the intersection of Saigon Road.
After months away, Shanghai’s appearance changed daily, with new roads and buildings everywhere. This city’s vitality and vigor are constantly refreshed in his memory.
Boya’s small foreign-style building should have changed hands long ago. He thought that, hopefully, the new residents wouldn’t level his garden. The ivy should also be kept, along with those old wooden window frames, and not replace those carved window handles, which were seventeenth-century antiques he’d worked hard to find.
When he reached the garden gate and peered through the fence gaps, he rubbed his eyes.
The garden was covered with countless miscellaneous goods. They were holding an auction inside!
A clear, small voice, tinged with fatigue, called out: “It’s almost noon. We’ve ordered Wuxi cuisine from Sichuan Road—it’ll arrive soon. Everyone eats first, then we’ll talk. Any business can wait until this afternoon, this afternoon…”
Then came scattered protests from various ages.
“We’re busy. We have lunch appointments and afternoon business—no time to eat your food…”
“You’re treating? Can a little girl like you be trusted?”
“Hey, I’m telling you, don’t touch the things I’ve marked! No delaying tactics!”
“I won’t negotiate with women! Call Manager Chang to talk with me!”
Lin Yuchan wasn’t intimidated by these voices, firmly soothing everyone and asking them to postpone transactions and eat first.
Rong Hong pushed open the gate. With a creak, the group of merchants all turned around.
Rong Hong looked somewhat confused, glancing at the small building, then at Lin Yuchan, asking: “Are you selling my things?”
—
One minute later, Boya’s small foreign-style building welcomed its liveliest day since construction.
Dozens of merchant buyers stood dazed in the garden, completely bewildered. Watching a dusty traveler burst through the entrance, the scholarly Manager Chang immediately reddened around the eyes, rushing down from the second floor to embrace him tightly. The clerks who had been busy numbering goods instantly abandoned their duties, surrounding him with tears and laughter, grabbing his luggage and inquiring after his health, chattering together in a cacophony.
“Boss, you’re finally back!”
The merchants were greatly displeased: Hey, you weren’t this enthusiastic with us just now!
Then they were utterly puzzled: This is Boya Trading House’s “boss”? How could his subordinates be selling his shop without his knowledge?
That girl who’d been holding down the fort didn’t seem too surprised—just stunned for quite a while. Then, one by one, she organized the documents in her hands neatly, placing them on a temporarily erected desk, then clenched her fists as her big eyes slowly filled with moist mist.
She suddenly threw a mock punch, striding quickly toward Rong Hong with threatening momentum, shouting with a nasal tone: “You know how to come back!”
All the merchants fell silent in unison, staring dumbfounded at each other, all thinking the same thing:
Oh my, is this a deadbeat returning home?
“You know how to come back!” The little girl’s face flushed red as she accused him through gritted teeth. “You were released early this month—where did you go sightseeing along the way? Do you remember that you have a shop here? Do you know how difficult things have been for us? Last month, no one drew a salary! One day later, and all this stuff would have been sold!…”
“Ahem.”
From the other side of the garden, the friendly guest supervisor Su Minguan couldn’t stand listening anymore and coughed audibly.
Lin Yuchan’s face warmed slightly, realizing her tone sounded exactly like a resentful wife. But seeing Rong Hong’s ruddy, well-fed appearance made her angry—he’d just had a hearty meal while she was still hungry!
Look at him—wearing a crisp long robe and jacket, clean and freshly pressed without a single wrinkle; his shoes also bright and new, not a speck of mud visible. His face was fair and clean, obviously recently shaved, and he even seemed slightly plumper than before—how was this like someone who’d escaped prison? He’d returned from vacation!
Looking at Boya’s remaining staff, each looked like a loyal minister exhausted from state affairs, on the verge of collective martyrdom.
Rong Hong was somewhat at a loss, fingering a cigar in his pocket but not daring to light it. Looking at the garden full of people with dropped jaws, he indeed seemed like a deadbeat husband who’d forgotten to come home, carefully clarifying: “I… I thought you’d already disposed of this shop long ago…”
“Abandoning it would be easy, but how much is Boya’s tea brand worth? Throw it away for nothing?” Lin Yuchan lowered her voice, wanting to cast all the months of hardship and suffering into bullets and rat-a-tat-tat shoot them at him. “What about your old orders and customers? What about commercial reputation and credit? Do we still pay taxes, still want business licenses? Nobody would take your oddly-shaped goods without bargain prices. Without us slowly finding buyers through connections, what would you eat when you returned if we’d thrown everything away? I ran all over Shanghai finding people to rescue you—where would I find time to handle all this mess!”
After another scolding, Rong Hong’s two ears weren’t enough as he looked around in bewilderment. His old staff were standing behind Miss Lin, and though embarrassed to support her openly, they were all quietly nodding, everyone’s face bearing the word “grievance.”
Rong Hong understood everything, his voice trembling: “So you’ve all persisted until now? I… I thought…”
Chang Baoluo suddenly remembered something, blushing with embarrassment as he carefully looked back.
Their crying and laughing had left dozens of merchants hanging around watching the show!
Unexpectedly, someone was already handling the merchants.
“Excuse me,” Su Minguan politely clasped his hands and apologized to everyone. “As you can all see, these auction items you’ve marked still have some property rights disputes. If you purchase them today, should there be legal disputes later, it would be difficult for everyone. Better to wait until the owners resolve everything, then notify you separately to return another day. Thank you for your understanding.”
With this explanation, no one objected. Everyone exchanged pleasantries and took their leave.
They were all in business to make money—time was silver, couldn’t afford delays.
The group of Wang Baochuan characters who’d been faithfully guarding their lonely chambers finally came to their senses, with several leaving Rong Hong to see off the guests.
Su Minguan turned to Rong Hong with a polite, light bow.
“Those outside aren’t more relaxed than those inside. You can see Miss Lin has been mentally and physically exhausted lately.” He was also direct, getting straight to the point. “Mr. Rong, have your charges been cleared?”
Rong Hong looked deeply at Su Minguan and suddenly smiled.
“While in prison, I was fortunate to have someone provide special care for my meals and teach me much rhetoric for dealing with bureaucrats. This allowed me to pass my days safely and avoid much suffering.” He said quietly, “After repeated inquiries, they finally said it was at the request of Yixing’s hometown association. Minguan…?”
Su Minguan was slightly stunned and spoke honestly: “It wasn’t me.”
When he had traveled with Luna, Yixing’s staff had received several hundred pounds from Lin Yuchan, spending most on Rong Hong and keeping some as pocket money. When Su Minguan returned seriously injured, everyone considerately didn’t volunteer this information to their boss.
Su Minguan immediately looked at Lin Yuchan. She quietly pointed to herself.
Rong Hong saw this and still smiled: “In any case, thank you.”
He reached into his clothes, pulled out a silver coin, and offered it to Su Minguan with both hands: “Please don’t disdain it.”
Chang Baoluo and the staff slightly opened their mouths, not understanding what signal the two were exchanging.
Su Minguan smiled slightly but didn’t accept it.
“Miss Lin can be the introducer,” he said quietly. “As for qualification review…”
He walked a few steps and closed the courtyard gate. Rong Hong quickly followed.
“Mr. Rong, pardon my boldness in asking,” Su Minguan’s gaze was sharp, his smile polite but cold, asking in an extremely soft voice, “how did you remove this traitor’s hat? Who took you to Anqing? What did you do during your two months there?”