The foreigners looked at each other in bewilderment.

Nineteenth-century Westerners were also quite superstitious. Moreover, in their various literary works, the mysterious East had long been depicted as a paradise of magic and witchcraft.

God and Jesus were not acclimated here—they might not work on this land. Many people building Western mansions and offices also had to consult feng shui masters. When craftsmen worshipped Lu Ban, they too removed their hats in respect. Better safe than sorry.

What Miss Lin had just said about blades that must draw blood… whether true or false, it successfully upgraded what was originally just entertainment into bloody gambling.

One foolish young man was eager to try, just about to speak when he was silenced by those around him.

For men to bully women, inviting someone’s wife to duel merely for entertainment—this violated every social etiquette Britain had maintained since ancient times. If word got out, all of Europe would laugh.

So everyone felt quite disappointed.

But no one apologized. A young foreigner who’d led the jeering picked up his wine glass, acting as if nothing had happened, waving toward the door.

“Hey, customs people are over there—let’s go have a drink with them!”

“Right, let Mrs. Macartney rest. Look how she’s nearly fainted from the heat.”

“Exactly! We should also greet the new guests.”

With one call, most people responded, bustling away in large numbers, startling the customs clique next door.

Ma Qingchen wasn’t entirely satisfied with this outcome either, but at least it hadn’t made him lose face publicly. He glanced dissatisfiedly at Miss Lin, then hurried out to attend to guests.

Gao Dewen had a maid bring hand warmers, offering one to Lin Yuchan.

“Little girl,” with quiet surroundings, she curiously asked, “what did you say just now that scared them off?”

Lin Yuchan was silent for a moment, then asked back: “You don’t understand English—how did you meet your husband? Was it—arranged by your family?”

For a newly acquainted wife of another family, such questioning was somewhat abrupt. But the “female warrior” halo influenced first impressions—Lin Yuchan intuitively felt Gao Dewen wouldn’t be easily offended.

Besides… she’d already been severely offended earlier. One more question wouldn’t matter.

Gao Dewen said coldly, “I chose to marry him myself. Any other questions?”

Lin Yuchan heard slight resistance and defensiveness in her tone.

She immediately realized that since marrying a foreigner, she’d probably endured various strange looks from others: those who thought her disgraceful, immoral, using beauty to climb socially, as promiscuous as foreigners…

Lin Yuchan quickly clarified: “I mean nothing by it. Chinese and foreigners are all people—as long as they get along well, feel comfortable together, and the other person is reliable, being together is normal. It’s just… ordinary girls’ families wouldn’t typically support their daughters’ relationships with foreigners, right?”

Gao Dewen’s expression relaxed somewhat. Smiling, she answered: “Naturally, some at home opposed it, but my father supported me. He said this was my only path to escape fate. Sister, you needn’t feel indignant for me. I don’t regret it. I’m living well now. At least… I’m free.”

Lin Yuchan was stunned by this answer for a moment, finally asking: “Your father is…”

Anyone who could say “escape fate” was another contemporary prophet! But she hadn’t seen any important figures surnamed Gao in history books.

Gao Dewen pursed her lips in a slight smile, not answering.

Suddenly she took Lin Yuchan’s hand, saying: “Too bad my husband doesn’t permanently reside in Hankou, or I’d really want you to teach me English. Not being able to speak their language is truly disadvantageous.”

Ma Qingchen was obsessed with Chinese affairs, treating his wife as a Chinese language practice—he certainly wouldn’t patiently teach her English.

Lin Yuchan suddenly realized something, quickly saying: “I’m not from Hankou either! I live in Shanghai now! If you ever go to Shanghai, you must come find me!”

She always kept a stack of Boya business cards, quickly pulling one out. Gao Dewen solemnly accepted it.

Gao Dewen couldn’t read many Chinese characters either, having Lin Yuchan read all the shop names and addresses aloud. Suddenly, her expression changed slightly.

“Shanghai Boya…”

Gao Dewen closed her eyes in recollection, suddenly saying: “Isn’t this shop owned by a gentleman who studied abroad? Surnamed Rong… could it be the same name…”

Lin Yuchan was shocked, standing up to carefully examine this female warrior’s foreign daughter-in-law.

Natural feet, martial arts skills, uniquely styled clothing, hadn’t been to Shanghai but knew about Boya, marrying a foreigner was “the only path to escape fate”…

“Wait, you…” she lowered her voice, speaking slowly, “you’ve met Mr. Rong Hong. In Nanjing. You participated in the Taiping Army.”

Gao Dewen’s eyebrows flickered momentarily, then she smiled.

“Not anymore.” She said flatly, “Thanks to my husband’s mediation. Our forces have abandoned darkness for light, surrendering to the Great Qing. My father and uncles have all been promoted to second-rank military officers. Now I’m also a ranked lady, worthy of foreigners calling me madam.”

In foreign circles, the Taiping Army wasn’t considered heinously evil. In the early stages of the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom movement, many foreigners had even actively contacted them, hoping to establish good relations early with this “future regime that could replace the Manchus.”

So, Gao Dewen directly revealing her identity as a “recruited rebel” wasn’t a major concern.

Lin Yuchan slowly nodded.

After these years of on-ground investigation in the Great Qing, she certainly wouldn’t naively define these surrendered peasant rebels as “surrenderists” like a simple high school student. Everything must be viewed dialectically. Gao Dewen’s phrase “abandoned darkness for light” wasn’t entirely sincere, indicating they had many grievances.

But… being directly granted second-rank military officer positions after surrender, Lin Yuchan couldn’t help but reasonably suspect how much blood their comrades Gao Dewen’s father had on their hands.

Regardless, Gao Dewen had already married Ma Qingchen in advance—this blood had little relation to her.

Lin Yuchan thought quickly and felt Mrs. Gao was still worth befriending.

She almost impulsively wanted to reveal Yixing Steamship’s participation in rescuing Nanjing refugees. But she ultimately restrained herself. To grow closer to Mrs. Gao, she needn’t take such great risks.

Besides, thanks to Hede’s blessing, Hankou’s docks were still under martial law—whether these refugees could successfully disembark was questionable.

Lin Yuchan smiled: “Many foreigners bully the weak and fear the strong. You’re new here—you need to establish rules for them. Don’t forget, they’re commoners in China while you have a rank—in their terms, a title. For them to speak with you is climbing social climb. We can’t let them lead us around by the nose.”

Gao Dewen had been a minor leader in a women’s unit in the Taiping Army—her spirit was high.

Today, suddenly seeing a group of foreign men surrounding her with jeers, the cultural shock was too severe, temporarily causing mental rust and giving them cause for laughter.

Now chatting with a compatriot girl, Gao Dewen’s mood calmed, smiling slightly.

“Naturally—by the way, that Mr. Rong from Boya Trading House, is he your relative? Didn’t he come today?”

Lin Yuchan regretfully shook her head: “He’s gone abroad.”

Rong Hong’s visit to Nanjing seemed to have left deep impressions on many people.

Lin Yuchan couldn’t help mentally opening a gossip notebook, frantically flipping pages. Back in Nanjing, had Gao Dewen talked with Rong Hong… how far had they gotten…

Pondering this now was naturally Monday morning quarterbacking. At minimum, Rong Hong planted trees for her to enjoy shade. Because of the word “Boya,” Gao Dewen felt immediate kinship with this first-meeting girl.

“Miss Lin, come, accompany me to the front hall.” A fighting spirit appeared in Gao Dewen’s eyes. “I’m going to establish some rules for those ill-mannered foreigners.”

In the front hall, guests had long forgotten the earlier impasse. Conversation topics had jumped half the globe, landing on London’s newly opened underground railway.

Gao Dewen, supported by a maid, smiled as she called to her husband.

Ma Qingchen was already slightly drunk, chatting merrily with a police station official. Hearing her, he turned back with slight impatience, saying: “Dear, you should learn to greet guests…”

He suddenly stopped. In just a few minutes, his tall Chinese wife’s aura had completely changed, the words “easily bullied” erased from her face.

Gao Dewen cleared her throat, smiling as she commanded her husband under several guests’ gazes: “Come here for a moment.”

Making an example. To gain foreigners’ respect, she first had to train Ma Qingchen properly.

“Husband-taming” was completely unknown territory for Lin Yuchan. She took a glass of wine, planning to seriously observe and learn.

But Gao Dewen didn’t get to say a second sentence. A Chinese attendant suddenly burst into the hall, his queue askew, looking panicked, holding a letter.

“Master Ma, you need to come over.” The man gasped, following Macartney’s preferences by speaking extremely slowly in Chinese. “Military intelligence from downstream, in Suzhou…”

Most foreigners didn’t understand Chinese, treating his words as background noise. Only Hede pricked up his ears, stopping meaningless chatter.

This listening comprehension was somewhat difficult for Ma Qingchen. By the time he figured out the meaning, it was too late to stop him.

“…Taiping Heavenly Kingdom Prince Na Gao Yongkuan, who surrendered the city seven days ago, was lured and killed by the Huai Army! All surrendered soldiers in the city were slaughtered! The Huai Army and Ever-Victorious Army are about to fight!”

After this rash attendant finished speaking, Gao Dewen’s face turned deathly pale, her hands grasping at air, trying to hold onto something.

Someone exclaimed: “Mr. Macartney, your wife…”

Simultaneously, Lin Yuchan rushed forward, catching the fainting Gao Dewen and helping her to a chaise lounge.

Attendant interpreters in the hall had now translated the military intelligence into English, slowly spreading it.

But Chinese killing Chinese was merely gossip for foreigners. They didn’t know who this unlucky “Gao Yongkuan” was either. After initial shock, they sighed, shook their heads, picked up wine glasses again, discussing credibility and morality.

Several delicate Western ladies, hearing such human tragedy, cried “My God!” and fainted on the spot. Nearby gentlemen scrambled with smelling salts and brandy, caring for these fragile ladies.

Polite conversational buzzing resumed in the parlor.

Gao Dewen’s face was deathly pale, half-opening her eyes.

Around her were only a few maids and the newly met Miss Lin, anxiously asking: “Are you alright?”

Lin Yuchan also followed Taiping Heavenly Kingdom battles, plus had some historical knowledge as cheating, making her understanding of current events somewhat more sensitive than ordinary people.

She seemed to have read about “Suzhou Massacre of Surrenders” somewhere, just didn’t know the date—apparently it was now.

Qing forces had consistently recruited Taiping generals to disintegrate the enemy military strength. This policy had previously worked well, with many Taiping soldiers turning to betray, providing valuable intelligence, and gaining wealth and honor.

Only now, with the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom at its last gasp, destruction imminent, Qing forces no longer needed surrendered soldiers to help fight. Keeping these people was a disaster—better to kill them.

Gao wasn’t a common street surname. This “Prince Na” Gao Yongkuan, whose surrender came at a bad time, was probably Gao Dewen’s father!

Gao Dewen’s lips were white as she asked: “Where’s my husband?”

Ma Qingchen hurried over, his two white radish-like whiskers jumping on his chin.

“Dear, this is truly unfortunate news… You must believe, we British insisted on guaranteeing surrenderers’ safety during mediation… it was the Qing army’s treachery. I—I must notify my friends and colleagues to condemn them in newspapers… I’ll have the butler continue hosting this reception while you go rest…”

Saying this, he symbolically kissed Gao Dewen’s hand and hurried to leave.

“Wait!”

Lin Yuchan stepped sideways, blocking Ma Qingchen.

Ma Qingchen looked down at this ill-mannered Chinese girl, frowning: “Please leave. My family has suffered misfortune…”

“So you should accompany your wife even more, helping her through this crisis.” Lin Yuchan, afraid he wouldn’t understand, stopped caring about Ma Qingchen’s dignity and switched directly to English. “This is what you should do most as a husband. You’re married—your marriage is sacred. Regardless of your wife’s race, what you should do now is stay by her side.”

Christians valued “sacred marriage” highly. Ma Qingchen’s mind was also confused, momentarily speechless when confronted by this little girl.

But deeper anger followed. A Chinese woman who’d learned fluent English somewhere thought herself his equal and dared lecture him?

Ma Qingchen: “I… things have come to this, irreversibly. I must do something, mustn’t I?”

He finished with a “don’t bother me” polite smile.

Lin Yuchan calculated quickly. This evening’s reception showed her this was merely a marriage of mutual convenience. Ma Qingchen marrying a Chinese girl probably had very little love component. He’d probably made wishful calculations—after Gao Dewen’s father surrendered to become a high court official, he’d become a high official’s son-in-law, facilitating his success in the Great Qing.

Proper Great Qing officials wouldn’t deign to marry their daughters to foreigners. Ma Qingchen found an alternative path, betting on Gao Dewen.

Then foreigners mediated, instigating Gao Dewen’s father to defect and surrender, persuading Qing forces to give surrendered generals high positions and wealth.

Who knew Qing forces wouldn’t play by conventional rules? They turned around and killed this half-hearted Taiping “Prince Na”!

With his father-in-law killed, Ma Qingchen, as the aggrieved party, now had two possible mindsets.

First, he felt sorry for his wife. Causing her father’s death—he bore some responsibility, too.

Second, his dream of being “a high official’s son-in-law” was shattered. Gao Dewen no longer had any use value for him.

From Ma Qingchen’s immediate reaction upon hearing the bad news, Lin Yuchan felt his mindset leaned toward the latter.

Glancing aside, Victor was surrounded by several handsome men and beautiful women, winking at her and gesturing, meaning roughly for her not to argue with the reception host but come enjoy life.

Lin Yuchan waved at Victor, indicating she was busy.

Though meeting more people might greatly benefit her business, Gao Dewen was too unfortunate. Lin Yuchan couldn’t abandon her.

After all, none of the foreigners in this room, male or female, could truly empathize or understand how a Chinese woman who’d suddenly lost relatives and all foundation and support would face her suddenly dim prospects.

Just ten minutes ago, she’d been confidently planning to establish “rules” for foreigners, trying to make her husband respect her.

Now, respect was even more impossible. Looking at Ma Qingchen’s expression, he wanted to immediately dump this failed investment like a burden.

“You should accompany your wife.” Lin Yuchan wouldn’t yield, lecturing Ma Qingchen again. “Not only that—I advise you to wear mourning for your father-in-law. For specific protocols and duration, just consult any Chinese scholar. In the Great Qing, respectable people valued ritual and filial piety above all else. When selecting officials, these two standards are more important than talent and ability. If you achieve these two points, everyone will respect you—even the Chinese emperor would give you a thumbs up.”

Corrupt values were double-edged swords—they could harm people but also be used to deceive.

Ma Qingchen had wasted years in China, focused on climbing up, and also studying various Confucian norms intensively. But foreign privileges were too great, European rules prevailed in concessions, and these values rarely applied, making him constantly feel out of character. Today, an ordinary Chinese girl—reportedly even a merchant, not an official’s daughter—also blurted out the Three Bonds and Five Constants to lecture him. Ma Qingchen felt somewhat dazed, momentarily forgetting to question: What gives you the right to contradict me?

He looked around. Guests concealed surprise, maintaining peaceful facades while drinking quietly. Cooks brought out another batch of pastries—everyone hurried to surround and take them, stuffing their mouths full, then quietly chewing.

But their eyes showed watching-a-show expressions.

Foreigners were arrogant and self-important—even ordinary clerks felt nobler than the Chinese emperor, thus wouldn’t deign to have much contact with Chinese people. This Mr. Macartney marrying a Chinese wife—if it were for love, it might make a good story. But everyone knew he was just adapting to Chinese official rules, climbing personal relationships.

Of course, for politeness, no one would say much. But seeing him rendered speechless by a Chinese girl using his actions as evidence, commanding him to follow Chinese people’s strange customs, the foreigners secretly enjoyed it.

Poor Ma Qingchen—at tonight’s reception, he’d made himself unwelcome inside and out.

However, a qualified gentleman never argued with young ladies. Ma Qingchen gestured to the butler to escort this rude girl away.

Then, as if explaining, he said dryly to the room’s guests: “But I must seek justice from the Qing court…”

“That’s not urgent for the moment,” someone suddenly interjected gently. “I think you should follow Miss Lin’s advice.”

Ma Qingchen was startled. Turning, he saw that the outspoken girl hadn’t been driven away. Behind her stood someone he couldn’t afford to offend.

“He—Mr. Hede…”

Upon first hearing the news, Hede had immediately gathered customs personnel present for an emergency meeting, discussing how to deal with the aftermath of this bloody massacre—Suzhou region’s shipping routes and trade would be affected, related officials might be replaced, and then ordered subordinates to leave and work overtime.

He was about to take leave when Miss Lin’s sharp words suddenly drifted into his ears.

The little girl’s words didn’t carry enough weight. He couldn’t help using official authority to admonish Ma Qingchen.

Ambition wasn’t wrong, but climbing up must follow the basic law—power and position could only be exchanged for strength and sweat. Hede somewhat disagreed with Ma Qingchen’s cold-blooded, opportunistic approach.

Inviting Lin Yuchan to the reception actually had this hidden intention: Ma Qingchen’s newlywed wife had no female companion to communicate with—according to British social etiquette, this would disgrace her, quite inappropriate.

Details Ma Qingchen was too lazy to consider, Hede had thought of them all.

Lin Yuchan borrowed authority, looking at Hede beside her, feeling two centimeters taller.

Hede added: “Miss Lin, please stay here longer to comfort this poor lady. I believe Qingchen will thank you afterward.”

Lin Yuchan smiled and nodded in compliance.

Whether Ma Qingchen thanked her later didn’t matter. Gao Dewen truly needed company.

Ma Qingchen downed a glass of brandy but still couldn’t completely calm down, arguing red-faced with Hede: “Inspector General, this is my family affair. No matter how great your authority, you can’t control my bedroom… My wife’s father was murdered by Qing forces—I must make those barbarians pay… leaving tomorrow…”

Several close guests also quietly approached, chattering in agreement: “Yes, make the Manchu government pay!”

The foreigners spoke casually, but Lin Yuchan shuddered.

At least currently, her fate was still tied to this “barbaric government.” If these foreigners made a big fuss and war spread to the Yangtze River region, could she still do business?

She frantically thought up an idea, calling: “Mr. Hede! Why don’t you seek justice for Mr. Ma Qingchen? I believe it would be effective.”

She lowered her voice, leaning close to Hede’s ear, quickly saying: “Just a nonsensical suggestion, don’t take it seriously—the Huai Army leader is Li Hongzhang, right? From the last naval fleet incident, doesn’t Li Hongzhang have a good impression of you? The Suzhou massacre, regardless of anyone’s position, isn’t glorious—it will cause public outcry. Look, these British people present are already cursing… And you, as a British person, if you could mediate this matter well, incidentally securing martyr family treatment for Gao Dewen—Mrs. Ma—both Chinese and British sides would owe you favors… But I’m only suggesting—taking on responsibilities has risks, might cost your head.”

The last sentence was purely a liability disclaimer. Hede had taken on so many responsibilities—when had he ever feared losing his head?

Indeed, Hede was somewhat dazed by her series of logical deductions, his face showing colorful expressions, but notably lacking “fear.”

He put away sympathy for the innocent wife, slight excitement appearing in his eyes.

“Miss Lin, this official feels that in your eyes, I’m just a brick…”

“Moved wherever needed—thank you for remembering the witty remarks I loved making during my customs days. The Great Qing officialdom most needs such people with strong adhesive power, not…”

She quietly glanced at Ma Qingchen, who was clumsily comforting his wife under pressure from all the guests.

She lowered her voice: “Not those who act impulsively, always putting position before interests, who, despite giving themselves a submissive name, remain of questionable loyalty—foreign devils.”

Hede was silent for a moment.

He was very sensitive to public opinion. When the military intelligence came out, he’d already planned which departments to write to, how to unify customs positions, maintain powers while not offending the Great Qing, and maximize his participation.

But Miss Lin directly suggested he take a bigger step—directly participate in mediation.

Especially her suggestion from Gao Dewen’s perspective, properly compensating murdered surrendered generals as martyrs and treating their families well…

If this could be achieved, then, as Miss Lin said, both Chinese and British sides would owe him favors.

He couldn’t help saying: “Miss Lin, I thought my customs was the most training place. I didn’t expect that after two years in business, your mind has become even more flexible.”

Lin Yuchan thought: too kind. She couldn’t tell Hede she’d spent all evening thinking how to get him out of Hankou…

If urgent reports brought something other than massacre incidents, she’d probably also rack her brains, instigating Hede to participate.

Applied to Chinese officials, such instigation would be greatly disrespectful, only earning a “presumptuous!”

But Hede…

He was like a fully fueled war chariot, always ready to carve out new territory.

Hede turned, quietly saying goodbye to Gao Dewen, then taking his coat from a servant.

“I had the same intention. I was just worried about overstepping.” He said while putting on his sleeves. “But given Miss Lin’s past hunches have always been quite accurate, and those Chinese officials consistently don’t show me too sour faces, I think going to Suzhou would only cost time, nothing else. Goodbye!”