“A’Mei, you’re merely short on silver for turnover. Five hundred taels would be sufficient for emergencies—just liquidate your one-twenty-fifth share of Yixing stock. I don’t understand why you need to raise over three thousand taels.”

Su Minguan twirled his porcelain spoon with his fingertips, slowly dipping it into the bowl of steaming osmanthus wine-fermented rice balls, asking lightly.

The wedding banquet earlier had been all greasy, heavy dishes. Others ate frantically, but it didn’t suit his taste—he only ate a few bites for courtesy. He’d drunk quite a bit, though, and needed something sweet to settle his stomach.

Lin Yuchan watched the small glutinous rice balls on his spoon, feeling her mouth water—she’d been too busy networking for fundraising earlier and hadn’t eaten much either.

However, the menu hung outside the private room. She could order later when she had time.

“Since new Boya is a limited company, my Yixing shares are personal investments unrelated to Boya—naturally, I’ll keep them.” She answered domineeringly. “As for Boya’s operating situation, you know most profits came from war zone tea transported by Yixing—with that low-cost raw tea, I could spare no expense in refining and packaging. The final selling price was attractive, beating most competitors of similar specifications.”

Su Minguan blew on the wine-fermented rice balls in his spoon, then glanced at her small, closed lips, making an “mm” sound.

Lin Yuchan: “You’re a potential shareholder, so I’ll speak plainly. Now that Mr. Rong has abandoned his responsibilities, without that high-profit war zone raw tea line, Boya has returned to where it was before I joined—lacking sufficiently outstanding goods, with high venue and personnel costs, barely breaking even monthly. I liquidated all money-losing businesses and tried sourcing raw tea from other channels, but could never find anything as good and cheap as before. To maintain original quality, costs would increase at least twofold. Basically no profit.”

Su Minguan said lightly, “Don’t talk about these things. I’m asking what you need three thousand taels for.”

As soon as he spoke, he realized he was falling into old habits, being somewhat too domineering with her.

Such was his nature. His usual gentleness and kindness were merely masks. When facing strong opponents, he’d accidentally become extremely aggressive, his aura sweeping everything within three zhang.

Yet he had long promised never to be fierce with her again.

This wouldn’t happen again.

He paused, softening his tone: “Please tell me…”

The tone felt awkward.

After all, discussing business with a girl whose relationship with him was ambiguous—he was probably unique in all of Shanghai. No precedent to learn from about how to handle this balance.

He couldn’t yield, yet didn’t want to bully her…

He was truly creating trouble for himself.

He coughed, changing his tone: “A’Mei, tell me honestly…”

But Lin Yuchan laughed: “Stop pretending. I’m not that fragile. Keep business and personal matters separate—discuss however it should be discussed.”

Then she turned to glance at the door curtain, leaned forward, and bit the porcelain spoon in his hand, calmly eating a mouthful of wine-fermented rice balls.

Su Minguan: “…”

He gripped the empty spoon, his face flushing red, steam coming from all seven orifices. The wine he’d drunk earlier was taking effect.

This little troublemaker was openly seducing him while telling him to “keep business and personal matters separate”!

How could he still be fierce?

Fortunately, she also knew when to stop. Taking advantage of his daze, she regained control.

“Boya’s reputation can’t be ruined. Personnel can’t be fired. These are Mr. Rong’s conditions. We’ll naturally continue with tea, but must also explore other markets to ensure profits. These three thousand taels are startup capital.”

Su Minguan quickly straightened his attitude, asking: “Cotton?”

She nodded: “Also raw silk. We’re applying for licenses.”

“These are all mature markets with full foreign involvement. How do you guarantee profits?”

Lin Yuchan smiled: “The Maritime Customs has a semi-open reference room with annual import-export summaries. You just need to apply to view them. Lord Hede’s new initiative—it’s all in English, so few currently know about it. Look.”

She came prepared, producing several handwritten tables.

“For instance, Ningbo Port—the year before last, 1861, cotton exports were 5,489 dan. I even participated in those calculations because at year’s end, Ningbo was occupied by Taiping forces, and Zhejiang Maritime Customs took a holiday. Last year, Ningbo Port cotton exports were 19,648 dan—more than tripling.

“And this year’s first half…”

Su Minguan listened intently, unconsciously leaning forward, his gaze following her slender finger tracing across strings of numbers.

The Maritime Customs did this?

He was certain he was the second Chinese merchant in all of Shanghai to know about this.

Some astute, open-minded Chinese merchants had already realized the value. However, since Chinese customs were controlled by foreigners, ordinary Chinese merchants had no means for such summaries.

Even someone as well-informed as Su Minguan could only hear fragments from foreigners at Qichang Trading House, learning they planned to sell ships and buy cotton, thus inferring cotton’s rising market, only market trends, specific numbers were unthinkable.

“And this year’s first half,” Lin Yuchan said softly, satisfied to see Su Minguan’s eyes brighten, “Ningbo Port alone exported over ten thousand dan of cotton—mind you, new cotton is harvested in autumn. Cotton exported before this was just scattered inventory from last year. The real crazy purchasing season hasn’t even arrived yet. Boss Su, want to change careers? This is money-picking market conditions. Gift to you.”

Even without cotton commodity samples, even without customs providing specific cotton transaction prices, based purely on these statistical data, she was absolutely certain the cotton market was in an upward cycle with demand far exceeding supply. Entering now, as long as one wasn’t cheated, the probability of losses was extremely small.

Su Minguan wasn’t tempted by her pie-in-the-sky promises, smiling and nodding.

Shipping was drought-and-flood-proof—whatever goods became popular, they still needed transportation.

But he wouldn’t mind letting this honest girl work for him, earning some pocket money.

This counted as reciprocity, letting her know shareholders weren’t easy to deal with.

Only now did he truly consider Lin Yuchan’s share offering plan. He carefully examined her copied statistical tables, his slender fingers gently stroking over her handwriting.

The paper carried the young lady’s warmth. These numbers appeared incredibly seductive.

But he still restrained his emotions, saying: “Rong Hong has five thousand taels in silver. He should be willing to help you.”

Lin Yuchan smiled: “Being an official pays well—regretting it?”

Su Minguan: “Have you asked him?”

Lin Yuchan shook her head: “He’s using it all to contact overseas machinery factories and engineers. You haven’t seen him buying books at foreign bookstores—boxes and boxes hauled back. He also bought a bunch of mechanical samples, mixed quality and strange shapes. Overseas shipping fees alone cost hundreds of taels each time. Have you seen someone who becomes an official and still loses money? I estimate by this time next year, he’ll be writing documents for Westerners to earn money again.”

Su Minguan chuckled softly for a long while, no longer pursuing this topic.

He didn’t seek superiority by putting down Rong Hong. Too undignified.

“However, cotton’s shortage stems from the American Civil War,” he continued, interviewing, looking into her dark eyes, methodically raising questions. “What if the war ends next month?”

Lin Yuchan spoiled history without pressure: “It won’t. Isn’t Mr. Rong going to America? His American friends, learning of this, sent him a recruitment advertisement with a mobilization letter, asking him to enlist quickly and serve his second homeland.”

Of course, there were still two years until the American Civil War ended. She’d keep such prophetic predictions to herself.

Su Minguan couldn’t help laughing.

Rong Hong truly had trouble finding him at home. Already holding fifth-rank military merit in China, going to America, he’d still be sought after to serve as a common soldier. Seemed they were desperately short of troops—America’s war fires would burn for quite a while.

“Other ports show similar cotton export growth rates,” Lin Yuchan continued. “But looking at tea, though Shanghai’s export value has risen, Guangzhou’s export value drops yearly—combined, they barely offset each other. Chinese tea increasingly can’t increasingly compete with Indian tea.”

Su Minguan’s heartstrings were suddenly plucked, and he smiled lazily: “Seems our Chinese tea-frying secrets were indeed taken by traitors—I said this was inevitable.”

Lin Yuchan paused, remembering the past. When they first met at Deqiang Trading House, she had righteously advised him not to be that traitor.

Little did she know, he was calculating in his mind while appearing nonchalant, casually dealing with this naive girl, probably laughing inside.

Thinking of this, old resentment flared. She huffily seized his wine-fermented rice balls and ate several mouthfuls in succession.

Su Minguan was still pondering cotton and tea matters when he heard tinkling sounds and suddenly discovered his table was empty.

“Didn’t eat enough at the feast?” He was both crying and laughing. “Fine, I’ll order another bowl.”

Lifting the curtain to go out, he found the server and discovered the kitchen had already shut down.

The teahouse didn’t do dinner business. After the last wave of customers slowly finished eating, they’d close.

Su Minguan rushed back to the private room: “A’Mei!”

Only dregs remained in the wine-fermented rice ball bowl.

Lin Yuchan looked at him innocently, also hearing the server’s apologies outside, and finally feeling somewhat guilty.

“Here.” She smiled sheepishly. “Want it?”

Su Minguan unceremoniously pulled the bowl back to himself.

There was a chopstick holder on the table with several sets of chopsticks and spoons. He habitually reached for a new spoon, his hand pausing mid-air before retracting.

Using the spoon she’d used, he slowly scooped up two rice balls and put them in his mouth.

Lin Yuchan: “You…”

She was certain he was doing it deliberately, not from environmental principles or because using another spoon cost money. His eyes weren’t looking at the food in the bowl but directly at her, with slight smile lines at the corners.

Another mouthful, clean and neat. With a light smile, lips and fine porcelain lingered together.

Deliberately provoking her.

While being provocative, he also said: “A’Mei, this place makes rice balls strangely—why do they taste like braised pork?”

Lin Yuchan immediately clarified: “I didn’t eat braised pork just now!”

Su Minguan smiled: “I didn’t say you did. I’m saying their head chef probably forgot to wash the pot.”

Lin Yuchan: “…”

How was every word this person spoke a trap!

Su Minguan was satisfied seeing her small face flush. Very good. Revenge for her earlier food-snatching.

He pushed the empty bowl away, smiling.

“A’Mei, you forgot one risk.”

Lin Yuchan was instantly alert: “What?”

“Yixing’s risk.” Su Minguan said seriously. “The three-year wager with the Jiangzhe branch—only one year has passed. If, after two years, I haven’t gathered enough ‘members’ or spread influence widely enough, I’ll have to leave. I don’t want to break faith or fight internally, giving the court laughs, so… you should consider this possibility.”

Lin Yuchan paused, saying softly: “I think you’ll win.”

In her heart, she thought: even if it came to that, would he unconditionally abandon Yixing?

For a group of “fellow disciples” with incompatible ideals whom he’d barely met? Letting this enterprise owning the first Chinese commercial steamship fall into some mediocre manager’s hands?

“Heaven has unexpected storms—we can’t be careless.” He still insisted. “If Yixing were my enterprise, I’d gladly invest. But now…”

“Have you thought of an exit strategy?” Lin Yuchan suddenly asked.

Su Minguan paused slightly, shook his head, and smiled.

“No need to be so urgent.”

Finding exit strategies for everything early allowed slacking. With his adaptability, if situations worsened, planning three or four months would suffice.

Lin Yuchan lowered her voice, speaking quickly: “I’ll point you to an exit strategy. Currently, Yixing is registered under your name. Though it’s Heaven and Earth Society assets, this can’t be written in black and white. You can freely dispose of cash in accounts—if you invest in Boya, externally calling it an investment, I’ll help raise your share price. For instance, one thousand taels for ten percent shares, I’ll give you fifteen percent. Two years later, if you decide to leave Yixing and all property is confiscated, you’d still retain five percent Boya shares. As long as I haven’t lost money, then these shares would be worth five hundred taels.”

With Su Minguan’s capabilities, five hundred taels would be enough for a comeback.

Su Minguan gently rubbed his temples, smiling: “I’ve drunk too much. Don’t tempt me.”

His eyes were half-closed, indeed showing three parts intoxication. His gaze at her carried warmth, suddenly dropping to focus on her small lips.

The osmanthus wine-fermented fragrance still lingered there.

Lin Yuchan turned away, lightly snorting. When she’d been grabbing rice balls earlier, he hadn’t seemed drunk. Bringing it up now was showing weakness and delaying, probably plotting something bad.

She couldn’t help saying: “I’m sincerely thinking of you.”

“Thank you. I can’t accept such kindness.” Su Minguan withdrew his gaze, saying gently: “You should think more of yourself.”

She paused.

The server lifted the curtain and entered, apologizing: “Sir and Madam, the shop is closing.”

While speaking, he glanced at the table. Two people, renting a private room, only ordering one bowl of wine-fermented rice balls and one pot of tea, not even covering room fees. He couldn’t tell if they were truly stingy or pretending generosity. The server couldn’t help curling his lips.

Su Minguan chuckled, voluntarily playing the sucker, putting down several copper coins, taking responsibility for the bowl of rice balls he’d barely touched.

He stood up: “I’ll give you an answer within three days—that works, right?”

Lin Yuchan immediately said: “Others have expressed interest in investing too—Manager Chang’s wife’s aunt, Mr. Yin Mei, newspaper heiress Miss Compton…”

“Come find me tomorrow.”

“Wager agreement?”

Su Minguan raised his eyebrows slightly, showing interest in this never-heard term.

“Quite fitting… could be put that way. A’Mei?”

A Qichang giant steamer almost raced past them, waves tilting Luna’s deck at a small angle.

Standing on deck was a graceful young widow. Having recently frequented relevant departments for procedures, she’d resumed her long-abandoned widow disguise—small white flowers in her hair in updated styles, plain-colored jacket appearing docile and approachable. When waves hit, she staggered.

Seeing a bench on deck, she was about to sit down.

“Paint’s not dry.” Su Minguan pulled her back, pointing to the ship’s railing. “Hold onto that.”

A ready-made chair she couldn’t sit on. Lin Yuchan pouted slightly: “Let’s go to the cabin.”

“Also, under construction everywhere. Workers all over.” Su Minguan smiled with ulterior motives: “Unless we go to my exclusive single cabin. Only there is no one working.”

He openly made an inviting gesture.

Lin Yuchan’s face heated slightly as she firmly refused: “Tiny little thing. Can’t even sit down.”

She simply spread a tarp and sat on deck, listening to workers’ footsteps coming and going, carefully reading the new agreement Su Minguan had prepared.

Steamship Luna was undergoing major renovation. Scaffolding surrounded the cabins, bare-chested men coming and going. Seeing Su Minguan, they’d bow slightly before running back to work.

Now that inland waterway routes were gradually opening, passenger transport demand was also rapidly increasing.

Su Minguan, controlling a safe, reliable foreign steamship, had made a successful maiden voyage, earning a reputation for “not fearing bandits.” These past months have built enough credibility. His mind was now active, planning to convert it for passenger-cargo dual use.

Compared to freight, passenger transport profits were much higher.

Of course, people were more delicate than cargo. Passenger ships needed to be safe, stable, comfortable, able to withstand strong winds and waves, and fast.

This way, they’d also avoid confrontation with Qichang Trading House—though the Yangtze passenger transport market was mostly seized by foreign capital, the competitive landscape wasn’t yet mature, with no single dominant player.

They’d added benches to the deck and converted some cargo holds to passenger cabins. First class had private rooms, second class had seats, and third class was standing room. Routes connected various Yangtze ports. Though passenger licenses weren’t yet approved, half the discounted tickets were already pre-sold.

For Lin Yuchan, the only drawback was the renovation’s speed—the paint smell was rather strong. However, paint in this era didn’t contain formaldehyde, so smelling it wouldn’t be fatal.

Of course, passenger transport costs were also high. Besides applying for various licenses and paying more taxes, the ship needed service personnel and connections with specialized passenger docks at various locations. As for government clerks, there was another set of bribery channels.

Su Minguan had poached a Chinese captain from foreign shipping lines to handle these new affairs. He’d also accompany the maiden voyage to learn and supervise.

Su Minguan sat beside Lin Yuchan, asking softly: “Any problems with this agreement?”

Lin Yuchan traced his flowing, elegant handwriting with her gaze, smiling: “Let me think.”

The previous day, Su Minguan had seemed hesitant, escaping through alcohol.

Today when she arrived, he immediately presented a wager agreement, obviously carefully designed to leave her unsure how to analyze it.

Su Minguan demanded Yixing invest three thousand taels to purchase thirty percent equity in Boya Trading Limited Company—the big boss’s generous investment would save her from running around for funding. But there were conditions.

After one year, if new Boya’s profits didn’t reach over one thousand taels—meaning investment returns under ten percent—Yixing had the right to demand she transfer another ten percent equity free as compensation.

More greedy than the “five percent equity” she’d voluntarily offered yesterday.

However, if her management truly was dismal, share values would drop accordingly. His wanting more wasn’t unreasonable.

Lin Yuchan bit her lip, thinking calmly.

“This ten percent equity is my exit strategy.” Su Minguan watched the construction teams coming and going in the distance, secretly bumping her shoulder with his. “When the time comes, regardless of this ten percent’s value, just don’t let me starve. A’Mei, can you do this?”

Lin Yuchan fingered the small white flowers in her braid, thinking, then smiled: “What if my profits exceed one thousand taels? You don’t want an exit strategy anymore?”

“Then you’d be my exit strategy.” He answered without hesitation, his dark eyes looking at her seriously. “Who’s your current accountant, Zhao Huaisheng? How do I compare to him?”

Lin Yuchan felt her heart skip under his gaze, hastily saying: “Oh my, I can’t afford a big boss’s wages.”

“My requirements aren’t high—just having food is enough. At least one meat dish daily.” His eyes crinkled as he continued making proud demands. “Room and board included, private room, no sharing. Being able to bathe would be even better.”

Lin Yuchan smiled: “Can’t afford rent. My courtyard is full—how about I set up a floor mat beside my bed for you?”

“Tsk, haunted house, no thanks.”

She looked up, laughing silently.

Anyway, the probability of “Su Minguan being kicked out by Yixing” was roughly the same as “Lin Yuchan absconding with funds to Macau”—both were just casual talk.

However, after laughing, she felt something was wrong.

Workers were testing the steam engine, switches clicking, rumbling for a while, making her whole body tremble.

“Boss Su, seriously speaking.” After the noise passed, she said: “What if I mismanage and don’t meet your profit requirements, so I transfer ten percent equity to you—if I then hold half the shares, I’d have forty percent left. Your original thirty percent, after transfer, would also be forty percent. What a coincidence.”

Su Minguan lowered his eyes slightly, smiling enigmatically as he echoed her: “What a coincidence.”

Seeing his inscrutable expression, Lin Yuchan knew there was trickery involved. She immediately humbly asked for guidance: “So who listens to whom?”

Finally, thinking of this point. Su Minguan glanced at her. The young lady’s white flowers trembled slightly, dressed all in plain colors except for her light red lips, eyes wide with caution, ready to confront him at any moment.

Her high collar was a bit tight. She was also nervous, gently pulling down her neckline.

The plain clothes made for her widow disguise—it had been about a year, maintained to seventy percent newness, neat and soft, quite pleasing to look at, just… a bit small.

Not as loose as originally.

A cluster of strange flames ignited inexplicably. He suddenly stood up, smiling: “I’ll go supervise work in the cabins. Excuse me.”

Lin Yuchan: “…”

He left! Flicked his sleeves and walked away!

The one seeking financing was the grandson!

However, thinking back to when Su Minguan almost exhausted all connections to buy the Guangdong, saying everything possible, facing isolation from all sides… that was much worse than her current situation.

At least today, she was just seeking investment, not desperately needing money to save her life.

She unbuttoned one fastening at her collar, pondering the young master’s implications, thinking calmly for a minute.

Su Minguan’s words had been gentle and pleasant, soothing her ears like spring breeze caressing pearls and jade.

Now, analyzing carefully, the spring breeze turned bleak, pearls and jade vanished—a huge sinkhole seemed to appear before her eyes.

She suddenly jumped up.

“Hey, wait!”