The foreign sailors were burly with broad backs, each two heads taller than Lin Yuchan. Among them, one who looked like an officer had an ornately carved pistol at his waist.

This was the first time Lin Yuchan had seen firearms in this world, and for a moment her legs went weak. Should she crouch down with her hands over her head?

Fortunately, guns of this era had primitive construction, requiring manual loading of bullets and gunpowder, then ramming them tight with a thin rod. The powder and bullets were kept in special pouches, making firing quite difficult. Moreover, many common people didn’t recognize this object—seeing a crooked stick pulled out, most would lean in to confirm before realizing it was a “fire gun.” In comparison, gleaming bright blades were far more intimidating.

Therefore, the officer didn’t draw his gun to frighten people, but angrily asked in English: “What’s going on? Who’s attacking sailors of the British Empire?”

Aunt Hong was terrified. Though she couldn’t understand English, she could read the officer’s expression. She got up and curtsied to the officer, respectfully saying: “Officer, please see clearly—this common woman conducts honest business. This soldier has been harassing me in the market…”

Before she could finish, the previous sailor interrupted: “Officer, this is a prostitute who cheated me of my money.”

Looking around, he pointed at Lin Yuchan and Su Minguan as a bonus: “These are accomplices!”

The officer naturally trusted his men, wrinkling his large nose: “I’ve told you before—Chinese people have low moral standards. You simply can’t reason with them. They only fear the emperor and officials.”

He ordered his men: “Arrest them and send them to their magistrate for discipline.”

Send them to the officials?

Lin Yuchan hadn’t expected the British to be so reasonable, and unconsciously glanced at Su Minguan with a questioning look.

Would local officials judge the case fairly?

Su Minguan’s face read three words: “You’re dreaming.”

He said quietly, “There’s water behind the house. You two run first.”

Aunt Hong obeyed him completely, put on her shoes, and shakily stood up. Mulan had already slunk away with her tail between her legs.

Lin Yuchan didn’t move. She looked Su Minguan over with great surprise, then counted the number of foreign soldiers before them.

“Are you Ip Man?”

Su Minguan: “What?”

Three foreign sailors approached from different directions. They knew women and children weren’t threatening—they had to deal with this troublemaker first.

This troublemaker was well-developed among Chinese youth, taller than most when walking the streets. But compared to these British soldiers who had been fighting on decks for years, eating beef and drinking milk, firing guns in India and spilling blood in Malaysia, he seemed rather slight.

Lin Yuchan’s heart pounded violently as she quietly suggested: “Maybe you should run too…”

No sooner said than done—Su Minguan ran.

He was almost ethereally light, like a falling leaf touching the ground, and in the blink of an eye was behind the foreign officer.

He calmly drew the gun from the man’s waist and even had time to look down and fiddle with it for a moment.

The British officer came to his senses and then thought to reach out and grab it back.

The dark muzzle pointed at his chest.

“Tell your men to put down their weapons,” the muzzle wavered, “then get lost.”

He spoke in Chinese. Though the foreign sailors couldn’t understand, they guessed from his expression and immediately erupted in angry shouts.

Lin Yuchan’s mind had gone completely blank, her head full of: He knows how to use guns, too?

She, a “veteran” of gun battles who had watched countless police and gangster films, had nearly wet herself at first sight of the gun!

Being… being outdone by an ancient person…

Not until she felt Su Minguan looking at her did this mental chaos suddenly find an outlet, and she could hear the foreign sailors’ whispers again.

“They’re saying…” she immediately understood, “they’re saying you didn’t load bullets! Saying you’re bluffing!”

Bang!!

Su Minguan casually pointed toward the empty courtyard, blowing up a basket of salted fish and creating a small charred pit in the ground.

He had somehow already taken the British officer’s powder pouch. In the drifting light smoke, he raised the gun barrel, his fingers moving with incredible dexterity to load another bullet and cock the firing pin.

The foreign sailors watched wide-eyed like they’d seen a ghost, their faces all turning green. Their colorful eyeballs rolled in their sockets like “large and small pearls falling on a jade plate”—like opening a jewelry shop.

Only then did the salted fish fall to the ground one by one, with a fish tail landing on the British officer’s nose tip and jumping twice as if coming back to life.

“Tell your men to put down their weapons, then get lost.”

Su Minguan calmly repeated.

Undoubtedly, none present had his speed of loading.

Among the foreign sailors, one or two bold ones quietly reached for ammunition and knife handles. Su Minguan had eyes in all directions, immediately turning the gun toward them, and those men froze like startled cicadas, not daring to move.

He pointed back at the officer: “Do I need to say it a third time?”

If time advanced a hundred years, with automatic weapons prevalent and everyone firing like in action movies, spraying and mowing down large areas, this standoff might not favor Su Minguan.

But currently limited by technology, with primitive gun construction, Su Minguan holding the only loaded gun had complete advantage.

One British sailor was the first to raise his arms, carefully speaking in broken Chinese: “Calm, calm. Everyone, calm.”

Where there’s one, there’s a second. The previously arrogant sailors all dejectedly raised their arms. The officer finally helplessly raised his hands too, saying: “Young man, this seems to be a misunderstanding. We didn’t know that lady was a respectable married woman… you’re her husband, aren’t you?”

This was giving himself a way out, indicating we didn’t intend offense—we simply didn’t know Luofu had a husband. If you’d come earlier, this wouldn’t have happened.

Hearing the officer repeatedly call him “shrimp cake,” Su Minguan’s mouth twitched as he nodded.

The British officer sighed in relief and quickly extended his hand: “We won’t pursue your offense. Return the weapon to me.”

Lin Yuchan’s heart pounded as she quietly offered bad advice: “Don’t return it! Let’s keep this gun!”

To own a foreign gun that had crossed oceans in this backward feudal society would be a super cheat code—no worries about surviving the Qing Dynasty!

Su Minguan’s expression remained tense, his gaze briefly sweeping over her with a light scrape, his face still reading “You’re dreaming.”

“Privately possessing firearms is a capital offense.” He still patiently educated her, instructing: “Go collect their gunpowder.”

Lin Yuchan finally shut up, running to the armed foreign sailors, pulling off their pouches of gunpowder and lead bullets, and following Su Minguan’s intention, threw them into the latrine for a good stewing.

Only then did Su Minguan’s lips curve slightly, revealing a business-like social smile.

“A misunderstanding. So sorry.”

The British sailors dejectedly filed out.

Su Minguan kept his fingers curved, not relaxing, guarding against their sudden counterattack. The other side had numerical advantage—if they desperately resorted to fists, he had no chance of winning either.

However, the foreigners seemed to have no intention of continuing to pursue the matter. The officer was especially annoyed, roughly scolding in English the man who had previously harassed Aunt Hong, telling him to hurry back to the inn and stop embarrassing himself.

Finally, Su Minguan held up the loaded gun, screwed in the thin rod, removed the lead bullet, and tossed it out through the door crack.

He clutched the last lead bullet in his hand and locked the door.

Lin Yuchan felt her admiration wasn’t sufficient. She didn’t know whether to bow or kowtow to Young Master Su, finally grabbing a broom and very diligently sweeping up the salted fish fragments at his feet.

She tried to appear casual as she asked: “How do you know how to use guns?”

“Foreign guns?” Su Minguan also answered casually, “My family had money in the past, bought some to play with.”

Lin Yuchan was shocked. The modern feudal bourgeoisie was so progressive, buying real guns for young masters to play with?

Aunt Hong poked her head out from the latrine, looking around with lingering fear: “They left?”

Su Minguan nodded.

Aunt Hong quickly curtsied to him, smiling: “If not for Young Master Minguan seeing injustice…”

Su Minguan suddenly became stern and raised his voice: “Aunt Hong, I didn’t help you for nothing today. I… I want to eat the fish you cook!”

He’d rather die than do good deeds for free. Lin Yuchan burst out laughing, her fear dissipating by more than half.

Su Minguan seriously shot her a sideways glance.

“That goes without saying! I was just about to kill one!” Aunt Hong’s clothes had been torn into disarray. She laughed self-deprecatingly but didn’t seem particularly ashamed or angry, straightforwardly arranging her clothing and bending to clean up the mess on the ground. “Young master, little sister, sorry you had to see this spectacle.”

By the stove, Aunt Hong cursed the foreign devils to die horrible deaths in dialect while chopping the cutting board with loud bangs to calm her nerves. In moments, she served a fish, a plate of vegetables, and a large bowl of rice noodles.

The fish was Lin Yuchan’s favorite steamed fresh fish with black bean sauce. She normally freeloaded meals at Aunt Hong’s daily, so she happily picked up chopsticks and started eating.

Su Minguan had no appetite. He picked up a fish tail and absent-mindedly fed the little dog.

Mulan had somehow slunk back dejectedly and was wagging her tail at his feet.

Aunt Hong kept urging, “Young Master Minguan, please eat some, do me the favor.”

Lin Yuchan suddenly remembered something, put down her chopsticks, and carefully asked: “Earlier…”

Su Minguan put down his chopsticks: “Mm?”

Lin Yuchan pointed at Aunt Hong: “Earlier, you told that foreign officer… you were her… shrimp cake?”

Lin Yuchan felt she might be too gossipy. If he had spoken casually to defuse the situation, shouldn’t he apologize afterward like ancient people: “In urgent circumstances, I presumed to claim being your husband, damaging the lady’s reputation—please forgive me, blah blah blah”?

But if he was married to Aunt Hong… this didn’t look right, no matter how you looked at it!

After hearing her half-sentence, Su Minguan couldn’t help but smile, poking his chopsticks: “A’Mei, do you disapprove of me being single?”

Lin Yuchan: “…”

Was this something an ancient person should say?

She was choked by these words, her face heating up. Su Minguan still remembered her “fake fiancée” grudge from that day, looking at her with those clear eyes as if questioning: Are you this concerned about my lifelong affairs?

Sometimes Lin Yuchan felt this world had long been lifeless and dispirited, its fate already sealed, and no matter how people struggled, they couldn’t escape that heavy destiny.

Sometimes she felt many “ancient people” here weren’t at all like the ancient people in books and TV dramas. She had no advantage of foresight in this world. Knowing the historical progression didn’t help with daily trivialities—every day felt like being thrown into a washing machine, dragged around by others constantly.

Seeing her somewhat confused, Aunt Hong also laughed and straightforwardly lifted her head.

“Didn’t A’Mei notice? I’m a Shunde mah jie—a self-combing woman. I don’t marry.”

“Self-combing woman?”

Lin Yuchan seemed to have seen documentaries. In the late Qing, unmarried girls who vowed never to marry would comb up their hair, be self-reliant, and remain single until death.

Even into the twenty-first century, there were still scattered self-combing women, white-haired, living together in South China and Southeast Asia.

At this time, unmarried girls wore braids while married women wore buns. Aunt Hong wore a bun daily, so Lin Yuchan had assumed she was married, never thinking of the “self-combing woman” identity.

Aunt Hong said, “I self-combed at eighteen. After struggling for so many years, I pooled money with my sisters to buy this courtyard. Today, they returned to Shunde to visit relatives. I was greedy and stayed in the city to sell fish, which is how I got unlucky and tangled up with foreign devils. If everyone were here, hmph, we’d have beaten them out!”

Though she spoke while laughing, Lin Yuchan sensitively realized that this time, Aunt Hong had been forced to seek male help, which was somewhat shameful for her.

So, despite having no appetite, Su Minguan still stayed to make a show of eating, indicating they were even.

Lin Yuchan felt many things suddenly became clear and couldn’t help asking: “You don’t marry—your family doesn’t object?”

What advanced thinking! In two centuries, she’d probably face constant marriage pressure during every holiday.

Aunt Hong laughed: “If you choose to eat salted fish, you must bear the thirst. So what if they object? In our village, nearly half the girls are self-comb. Anyway, with hands and feet we can earn food—why marry into in-laws’ families to suffer? My family has four sisters. Big sister married into a scholar’s family as a concubine and was forced to hang herself. The second sister married a farmer’s family and died giving birth. The third sister had a leg broken by her husband and crawled home to escape. Later third sister pulled me to self-comb, and the parents stopped saying anything. Besides, self-combing women all worship Guanyin Bodhisattva—once self-combed, no one can force them to marry.”

She softly hummed: “Comb your hair yourself, sew your clothes yourself, manage your own life yourself, enjoy your joys and sorrows yourself—”

Lin Yuchan felt like she’d discovered a new paradise and had a bold idea.

“Aunt Hong, Aunt Hong,” she asked excitedly in a low voice, “I want to self-comb too. How do I go through the process?”

Su Minguan was playing with fish bones and looked at her with surprise upon hearing this.