Lin Yuchan suddenly trembled all over, instinctively closing her eyes. The ending sound of those two words hadn’t yet left her lips when they were crushed against her tongue by the man’s burning lips. In an instant, it felt as if her body was suspended in air, with abyss-like river water beneath her feet and whirlpool-like wind around her, entirely supported by a pair of powerful arms cradling her head. She couldn’t see, couldn’t hear—some tremendous force was washing over her consciousness, leaving only that feather-light touch between lips and teeth, unusually clear, unusually… sharp.

Countless thoughts in her heart suddenly died away in unison, leaving only one floating sensation:

So his lips, those seemingly sharp-contoured lips that often carried cold edges, were also so warm, so soft, so easy to become lost in.

Rumble…

Suddenly, several sounds came from the distance, muffled and rhythmic explosions one after another. The lights at the wharf swayed slightly, ripples of water rolled in, making the steamship rock gently.

Lin Yuchan suddenly came back to her senses, her whole body burning hot. Only then did she remember to breathe, gulping air in great mouthfuls, fumbling behind herself for the railing to steady herself, looking in bewildered confusion at the flickering fires rising and falling along the shore.

“The arsenal is testing gunpowder. They have to wait for the depths of night to hear the impurities in the explosions.” Su Minguan licked his lips, his eyes slightly intoxicated, his voice dark and hoarse. “Making a fuss over nothing.”

Then his fingers threaded through the hair at the back of her head, pulling that distracted mind back over, and pressed his lips to hers again.

She had started it—he certainly couldn’t leave things half-finished. She hadn’t dodged or slapped him, hadn’t even uttered a word of protest, so she couldn’t blame him for being utterly unrestrained. If this little troublemaker made him die of anger tomorrow, he had to make her pay the penalty in advance.

Her body trembled, the thick belt cinching her slender waist with a large excess hanging loose, its metal buckle clattering chaotically against the railing—ding ding ding—sometimes fast, sometimes slow. In her urgency, she reached out wildly, but he caught both her hands and fixed them against his chest.

Those mean-spirited, angry thoughts hidden in his stubborn corners, those dark, selfish notions, exploded in the air like fireworks, dissipating bit by bit into smoke. Only these small lips remained in his heart, incredibly delicate and full.

Su Minguan could almost hear the sound of something long-suppressed in his heart slowly breaking apart, like spring water bursting through floating ice, rushing headlong to overflow both riverbanks, moistening the ground with fragrant grass.

The little girl who was usually sharp-tongued and unyielding couldn’t fight at all now, almost collapsing at first touch, letting him drive straight in, plundering with meticulous craftsmanship, advancing with thoughtful care. She dared not open her eyes, fine scattered droplets of moisture curling beneath her lashes, her breathing chaotically disheveled, her face heating up bit by bit until even her brow bones and ear roots were dyed a lovely rosy red. Unable to stand steady on her feet, she instinctively reached out to cling to his neck, breathlessly hanging herself on him, letting him easily gather her in his arms as two sets of ragged breathing intertwined at close quarters, two young bodies nestling together.

The explosions gradually ceased, and the firelight also dimmed. The night wind carried a faint sulfur scent.

From the lower hold, the sound of the boiler was intermittent, occasionally rumbling softly, bringing peace of mind.

Lin Yuchan’s body was burning hot. Having just crawled around inside the steam engine, despite washing, her collar still released faint traces of metal and engine oil.

Su Minguan closed his eyes, thinking of a Western painting he had seen. In that imagined future world, steel forests towered high, cities spouting light smoke everywhere. Steam trains shuttled underground, flying machines studded with huge gears carried elaborately dressed beauties floating through the air.

His heartbeat was rapid as he carefully tasted the flavor between her teeth, thinking that in such a world, everyone would probably carry more or less the scent of metal, sulfur, and engine oil on their bodies.

Lin Yuchan finally steadied her feet, making a sweet humming sound as she stole a violent gasp of breath from the pressure on all sides. She wanted to respond, wanted to counterattack, but that boiling consciousness no longer retained any rationality—acting purely on instinct with somewhat clumsy pushing and biting, fighting the man with all her strength, forgetting she was completely confined in his embrace.

Finally, Su Minguan’s conscience awakened. He suddenly released her, gently kissing the corners of her lips and cheeks, nose tip touching her nose tip, giving her time to float back down from the void to solid ground.

Muffled voices came from the passenger cabins below. Probably some passengers had awakened in the deep night, conversing in low voices.

Su Minguan’s ears reddened slightly as he reached over to catch her small belt, feigning surprise and saying quietly: “We woke people up.”

Lin Yuchan: “…”

This man was a devil!

Why was he so calm?

She, this giant of thought and dwarf of action, had performed so poorly the first time!

She worked hard to steady her breathing, tightening the belt at her waist, calculating how to regain face.

After strategizing briefly, she carefully raised her face, stealing glances at his moist lips.

Usually pale in color, only now were they bright red and vivid, highlighting the refined gentleman of this turbid world, outstanding and extraordinary.

Su Minguan’s gaze was ardent, finally unable to suppress his breathing, somewhat losing rhythm as he gently turned his face away.

A low laugh escaped his throat, somewhat unsatisfied as he pleaded, “It hurts.”

Of course, it didn’t hurt that much. She had been too wild in her sucking, leaving an extremely faint sweet metallic taste under his tongue, yet it was achingly tingling—even that pain was sweet.

Seeing her embarrassment, he couldn’t help teasing her: “So angry. What to do—my lifespan is shortened by another day.”

Lin Yuchan was mortified, turning to run. He caught her back with one hand, burying his face in her delicate neck.

His cheeks were also abnormally hot, as if someone had poured half a catty of white liquor into him. Warm breath fell unrestrained on the most tender skin of her neck hollow—she was tickled beyond endurance, gently struggling and dodging, which only made him take a light, gentle sip.

“Amei, you’re running the wrong way—not that direction.”

He pointed to where she had just panicked on her flight. The deck led directly to the observation platform, with the entrance roped off with thick hemp rope that could be crossed in one step, then with a moment’s inattention, one would…

“A little bird fell in the water, fell in the water… swept away by the current…”

He hummed a line, learning her earlier tune, with malicious intent. His pitch was quite good.

With a snort, Lin Yuchan finally broke into laughter, gasping for breath and unable to recover, her whole body impossibly soft, trembling violently in his arms.

Su Minguan also couldn’t stop laughing, one arm around her, while with the other hand, he quickly undid his cloak and tossed it onto the railing.

This was the coldest moment of the night, yet he felt like a volcano crater.

The kind that could erupt at any moment.

Fortunately, she was wrapped in thick cotton clothing, making the feel of holding her quite disappointing. The cold air constantly cooled his overheated mind.

Otherwise, how could he manage to act nonchalant?

A seventeen-year-old maiden with a face like a painting—in other families, she would probably be kept indoors, spending her days embroidering trousseau pillowcases, watching magpies and pigeons outside the window.

Now she was drifting on the river with him, covered in the scent of steam and steel, the night wind reddening her ears.

Canvas hung by the ship’s side to block the wind, repeatedly blown back and forth by the river breeze, slapping against the iron railings with crackling sounds.

Su Minguan draped the cloak over her, asking softly: “Are you cold?”

Before she could answer, suddenly two clanging sounds came from the passenger cabin below as someone knocked on a window.

“Get a room!”

Lin Yuchan’s whole body stiffened, then she quickly covered Su Minguan’s mouth, genuinely feeling her face was beyond salvaging.

Below the deck were the first-class cabins. The guest inside had been awakened by the two of them, hearing only male and female laughter and assuming it was other first-class passengers coming up to make a scene in the middle of the night, so knocked twice and gave a very tactful reminder for them to return to their rooms to carry on.

Then she suddenly recognized the voice—

“Ah, it’s that Smith.”

Her guilt immediately flew away by more than half, even feeling somewhat smug.

Su Minguan hesitated briefly, then lowered his voice to curse downward with a very crude English expletive.

The two laughed silently.

A low-class ship owner curses at passengers, blaming it all on the foreigners—let them have their world war.

Smith flew into a rage, bellowing: “Which room number are you?”

This shout was much louder than the earlier commotion from the two of them. The steamship’s cabin soundproofing was mediocre to begin with, and moments later, they could hear Smith’s neighboring passenger grumbling complaints about whether people were going to be allowed to sleep.

Hearing that his neighbor was also American, Smith couldn’t very well continue his anger, perfunctorily apologizing a couple of times and laughing it off: “Anyway the ship’s broken, tomorrow we’ll probably have to drop anchor again—plenty of time to rest during the day.”

The two neighbors bid each other goodnight through the partition and successively returned to sleep.

Lin Yuchan gave a mock kick downward, following Su Minguan through the door into the cabin and down the stairs.

Suddenly, her steps faltered.

Su Minguan heard the disturbance behind him and, without turning back, asked: “Amei?”

She shook her head, not speaking until they returned to Su Minguan’s cabin. Only after closing the door did she look at him thoughtfully.

“That Smith,” she asked quietly, “why was he so certain the ship couldn’t be repaired tomorrow?”

Su Minguan had just hung his cloak and outer clothes on the wall and lit the lamp when he heard this and was startled.

Lin Yuchan continued: “Someone threw copper coins into the steam engine, and we all thought it was Chinese superstition. But would truly superstitious, ignorant men and women specifically find their way to the engine room, crawl to the deepest places, and deliberately stuff copper coins into the steam engine’s most fatal weak points?”

A slightly excited light flashed in Su Minguan’s eyes, as if encountering some unfamiliar challenge again.

“First, Smith grows cotton; he’s not a mechanic or engineer. He doesn’t understand mechanical structures.” He spoke while making the bed. “Second, the first-class foreign passengers have spontaneous drinking parties every evening. I asked the first mate—Smith attends punctually every day. During the time the engine had problems, he was constantly trying to pursue an English lady.”

“Smith has a female slave who obeys his every command—no one would particularly notice where she goes.” Lin Yuchan wouldn’t be outdone, her eyes bright as she picked up the thread. “Smith is American. Russell & Company is an American trading house. This ship was originally bought from Russell & Company. Russell & Company knows the specific construction of the engine and hull.”

Su Minguan licked a spot of congealed blood at the corner of his mouth, smiling: “Too much speculation, no evidence. I’ll just assign two more people to guard the engine room.”

He went to the adjacent washroom. When he emerged, he had changed into clean underclothes.

“Rest now.”

He bent down to embrace the girl by the bedside, planning to steal another peck on the lips.

But she quickly escaped to the inner part of the bed, grabbing up The Wealth of Nations to shield her face, declaring righteously: “I haven’t done my daily studies yet.”

Su Minguan gave a slight cold laugh.

Once in the room, she wouldn’t let him kiss her, finding different ways to delay every day, always dragging it out until she was too tired to keep her eyes open before sleeping—what good did it do to use all her little schemes to guard against him?

If he wanted to degenerate, could she stop him?

He lay down beside her accordingly, pulling a handkerchief over his eyes, saying very lazily: “You study by yourself. I’m tired.”

Lin Yuchan was startled, then looking at the book pages, immediately let out a big yawn. Those lines of English immediately turned into little bees, spinning and dancing before her eyes.

She sheepishly put down the book and was about to extinguish the lamp when she suddenly remembered something, gently pinching Su Minguan’s face.

“Boss Su.” She said while yawning, “The Anqing Yixing Tea Warehouse—you mentioned before it cost eight hundred taels of silver to acquire for public ownership?”

Hearing the person beside her hum in acknowledgment, he suddenly turned over and moved in while the opening was there, the handkerchief floating to the ground.

“Mm…”

Her mind went blank for a moment as she pushed against his chest.

Su Minguan withdrew at first contact, contentedly pursing his lips as he looked at her and chuckled.

That earlier wicked mood had already passed. His mind was clear as he replied quietly:

“Just a contact point for the upper and lower Yangtze, spending some money to maintain it… Why?”

In the past, he had also asked her whether she wanted to take over their tea business. At that time, Rong Hong was missing, and Lin Yuchan was spending money on Boya like water every day—how could she have had the leisure to consider expansion?

Now she finally remembered.

Lin Yuchan, seeing he had no intention of further advances, gradually became less tense, closing her eyes when she saw him lean down to kiss her again.

As if deliberately showing off his self-control, this time it was light and gentle, without too much desire, nose tip touching her nose tip.

She wasn’t quite used to this posture for discussing serious matters, blushing as she turned her head aside before saying: “Although Xuhui Tea Shop has some ready sources of rough tea, that’s not a supply chain I built myself. The quantity of tea I can obtain also depends on favorable weather and location, with very large annual fluctuations…”

If she could have a rough tea purchasing point in the inland tea-producing regions exclusively for Boya Company, it could save enormous costs and time.

Many large tea houses, even foreign trading companies exporting tea, had established specialized offices inland. For Boya to compete with them, it couldn’t rely solely on price wars in Shanghai.

“When I was asking for directions, I roughly looked it over—the business framework is quite good, and it has supply resources for Anhui inland rough tea.” Lin Yuchan spoke earnestly. “It’s only because of wartime blockades that business is slow. If handed over to me, it could connect with Shanghai and overseas customers…”

Su Minguan smiled slightly, straightening her face and pecking at the corners of her lips again.

“Fine. The tea warehouse business goes to you, and changes to Boya company registration. The Yixing contact point can move to the wharf—I just bought a berth there.”

Lin Yuchan hadn’t expected him to agree so readily, momentarily producing some doubt about “money-for-sex transactions.”

But why not take advantage when available, so she quickly nodded.

Before she could say “thank you,” Su Minguan continued lazily: “However, with the war ending soon, inland tea goods have great prospects—the Anqing Yixing Tea Warehouse is worth more than eight hundred taels of silver now.”

Lin Yuchan gave a small “hmph.”

She knew it wouldn’t be that easy.

When money passed through Boss Su’s hands, how could he return it unchanged? he was bound to fleece some wool from it.

She asked: “How much money?”

Su Minguan chuckled, pulling her hand over to kiss the back of it.

“This helmsman can’t be bothered with such trifles.” His eyes were bright as he put on airs, saying, “Tomorrow you go negotiate with them. Whatever you negotiate is your skill. Just don’t forget—the steamship departs precisely at ten o’clock. If you’re delayed, find your place to stay. I can only come back to pick you up on the return trip…”

He thought for a moment, putting her finger in his mouth to bite gently, vindictively adding:

“Young Master Xu Jianyin should be willing to take you in.”

The pocket watch on the table ticked. The two managers of Anqing Yixing Tea Warehouse—Liu Dadan and Li Tiebi—sat side by side at one end of the tea table, warily watching that constantly moving pocket watch on the table.

Anqing was not a treaty port. The last time a foreign missionary had mistakenly entered the city was over ten years ago. Foreign goods were naturally rare objects, and this pocket watch was particularly exquisitely crafted, copper-plated, and gleaming golden all over. It was said that when properly adjusted, it could match the bronze water clocks in the Forbidden City to the second.

The hands on the watch face slowly moved, pointing to eight-thirteen in the morning.

At the other end of the tea table, a young lady in Azure robes appeared gentle in demeanor, yet her tone was steady, even somewhat forcefully compelling.

“Here are Boya Company’s basic information and customer directory, these are trademarks and sample teas. Do you gentlemen have any other questions?”

The two men looked at each other, then at Su Minguan’s handwritten note on the table, hesitating as they shook their heads.

Liu Dadan: “All… all very clear. No questions.”

The note said they were permitted to transact at the tea warehouse. The base price of one thousand taels went to the organization, and the remainder went to the two of them as compensation for their years of dedication to association affairs and steadfast service.

Specific pricing—please negotiate in detail with Miss Lin from Boya Trading Limited Company.

Liu Dadan and Li Tiebi—their names alone suggested they weren’t proper merchants. Both came from poor backgrounds, unable to make a living, and had joined the underworld at a young age, both having blood on their hands. Originally belonging to the Heaven and Earth Society’s Two Lakes branch, they had also engaged in minor rebellions several times; fortunately, their heads remained securely on their necks.

Rebellion was deadly work, a young man’s game. After reaching thirty-five, both were assigned by the organization to retire, operating the Anqing Yixing Tea Warehouse—one managing the front desk, one handling logistics, providing a place for the younger generation to rest, hide, and gather intelligence.

However, since the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom movement swept the Yangtze River banks, absorbing various rebel groups along the way, the organizational structure of the Heaven and Earth Society’s Two Lakes branch had become fragmented. With Anqing repeatedly contested between Qing forces and Taiping forces, the Anqing Yixing Tea Warehouse had long become an isolated island. For three years, no comrades had come to the door—the two rebels had been selling tea to no one.

The two had discussed packing up and fleeing, but couldn’t bear to abandon fraternal loyalty, hesitating for several months. Once Su Minguan took over, they finally weren’t fighting alone.

Moreover, this Guangdong Jin Lanhe was quite humane, not requiring the two to continue mindless rebellion, nor demanding the business be nationalized, but letting them live peacefully while regularly remitting profits.

And today, an even more mysteriously-backgrounded young lady had come, proposing to purchase the tea warehouse at a premium, even giving them money!

The two were initially skeptical. They’d never seen a young woman doing business. Although she spoke logically with no apparent flaws, that “Shanghai Boya” was, after all, invisible and intangible—they dared not trust easily.

Who could blame them—these times were treacherous, with too many swindlers. There were habitual fraudsters who posed as wealthy merchants, spinning fantastic tales to trick people into handing over hard-earned businesses, then taking the money and running, beyond the reach of lawsuits. Such stories circulated widely in various versions, making people naturally cautious.

Liu Dadan and Li Tiebi were battle-hardened. Encountering this unconventional character, their first reaction was wariness.

“So,” Liu Dadan rubbed his wrists, probing for information, “in the future the tea warehouse profits go to Miss’s Boya Company? We continue business as usual?”

“And you’ll directly take my orders, purchasing quality Anhui rough tea for Shanghai Boya—screening, warehousing, transport, all your responsibility. And Yixing association affairs can’t be neglected. Each time Yixing steamships dock, if there are instructions, you must still fulfill association duties.”

Lin Yuchan finished speaking rapidly, glancing at the pocket watch on the table. Eight twenty-seven.

Li Tiebi asked hesitantly: “If… if we humble ones don’t agree? Don’t sell?”

“Then everything continues as before,” Lin Yuchan smiled amiably, “you gentlemen just continue… not making money. Occasionally giving people directions is quite leisurely too.”

The two tea-selling retired rebels across from her felt somewhat offended.

“We are still making money…”

“With your gentlemen’s abilities, you could earn much more.” Lin Yuchan took paper and brush, beginning calculations. Currently, your establishment’s main business is purchasing rough tea in Anhui villages and selling to processors, with thin profit margins, and due to Taiping Heavenly Kingdom warfare, the business scope is also limited to within fifty li, very constrained. Now there’s a reliable processor in Shanghai dealing directly with you, no need to worry about sales channels. As for profits, I think they could at least double within a year.

“Your gentlemen’s current salaries—how much does Boss Su give, five taels of silver monthly? Tsk, truly stingy. But fortunately, there’s not much work, so it’s like free money. I’ll still give you gentlemen five taels of silver monthly. Once the tea warehouse begins to make stable profits, we can discuss commission percentages. You gentlemen consider it—if you agree, half a year’s salary of thirty taels counts as a signing bonus.”

She spoke according to her audience, not afraid of offending people. Anyway, these two had already been thoroughly suppressed once when Su Minguan originally acquired the tea warehouse. Now knowing she was backed by the Heaven and Earth Society, they certainly wouldn’t turn hostile.

For these uncles accustomed to getting by, she couldn’t indulge their leisurely pace—she had to disrupt their slow rhythm and thrust a brand new life prospect right before their eyes.

Thirty taels of silver bonus equaled an ordinary family’s yearly income. These two gentlemen surely couldn’t remain unmoved?

When they originally ate chaff and vegetables, hiding here and there in rebellion, wasn’t it precisely to be able to live such lives!

Lin Yuchan thought quite optimistically.

But unexpectedly, the more logically she spoke, the more concerned the two retired rebels across from her became, until finally Li Tiebi’s eyes showed obvious wariness.

“Miss… giving us each thirty taels, and you want us to transfer the tea warehouse?”

Lin Yuchan: “…”

She finally belatedly understood exactly what position she held in these two men’s eyes.

“So you gentlemen think… I’m bragging? That I’ll renege afterward?”

The two across quickly shook their heads and waved their hands: “Wouldn’t dare, wouldn’t dare. We naturally trust Miss—fellow Hongshun Hall members, how could you deceive people, hahaha.”

The “ha”s were very forced, obviously lacking sincerity.

Lin Yuchan lowered her eyes slightly, realizing she had made an error in strategy.

Inland customs were inherently much more conservative than coastal areas. She had followed her Shanghai habits, immediately taking the initiative from the start, trying to use her professional competence and broad knowledge to make a deep impression, using her ability to compensate for gender disadvantage.

She hadn’t expected this strategy to backfire in Anqing. For conservative inland people, a single young woman was like a child—her credibility was already questionable, not counting as a “person” in the full sense.

The cleverer she appeared, the more people felt they should be on guard.

To draw an analogy, if a seven-year-old child suddenly appeared at one’s door, seeming exceptionally wise beyond their years and immediately discussing deals worth thousands of taels of silver, a normal person’s first reaction would also be “swindler”—there must be adults manipulating behind the scenes.

Though absurd, this was a deeply rooted prejudice in most people’s minds.

She should have concealed her edge, pretending to be a simple, ignorant girl, slowly maneuvering with these two gentlemen.

But she had neither the time nor the chance to start over.

Eight forty-five. Lin Yuchan quickly calculated—from here to the wharf, then taking the shuttle boat to board Luna’s deck, she needed to reserve at least forty minutes.

She had thirty-five minutes remaining to completely brainwash these two stubborn retired rebels and convince them she was not a swindler.