Half the staff at The North China Herald had gone to attend the trial and gather material, leaving the newspaper building nearly empty, with only a Chinese doorkeeper on duty who dared not stop him.

Lawyer Taylor easily entered the lobby, passed through the printing room and editorial room, and burst into the archives, pushing out his belly and commanding the intern left on guard: “I want the original submission letters from freelance journalists from the past two years! This is an order from the consulate court!”

Submission letters weren’t classified documents. The intern resisted for a while but couldn’t argue with him and had to open the boxes.

Lawyer Taylor rapidly sorted through them, finding several original submissions from E.C. Bennett among the mountain of letters.

He pulled them out and compared the handwriting – same person.

He laughed out loud with excitement, as if invisible strings were lifting the corners of his mouth high from his temples.

The intern chased after him: “Hey, sir, you can’t take those…”

Lawyer Taylor ignored him: “I’ll return them!”

While striding away, he examined these precious letters. E.C. Bennett had left an address for receiving payment. Unexpectedly, it was some Chinese shipping company by Suzhou Creek – a name he couldn’t pronounce.

“Having Chinese acquaintances collect payment…” Lawyer Taylor checked his pocket watch, thinking, “So she’s a crazy China enthusiast, an Orientalist freak – no wonder she knows so many Chinese women.”

He called for a carriage and showed the coachman the address “Yixing Shipping Company.”

The coachman said fearfully, “I can’t read, sir.”

Lawyer Taylor irritably kicked his cart shaft. Fortunately, a missionary who knew Chinese passed by and helped explain the destination to the coachman.

The carriage raced off. Every molecule in the air seemed scalding. Lawyer Taylor was sweating profusely and couldn’t help loosening his tie and shirt buttons.

Yixing Shipping Company’s storefront was unremarkable, with a strange shrine by the door. Lawyer Taylor had lived in the settlement for years but never visited Chinese territory. Without attendants today, he felt somewhat apprehensive.

Fortunately, the clerk who opened the door was friendly, asking in broken English: “Who are you looking for? Our boss isn’t here. Would you like to sit for a while?”

Lawyer Taylor relaxed and put on foreign airs.

“Call your boss back. I need to ask him something.”

The clerk was just looking troubled when footsteps sounded behind him and someone laughed, asking: “I’m the boss. What can I do for you?”

Lawyer Taylor turned to see a young Chinese man in light gray silk stepping lightly over the threshold like a breeze.

His English was quite good. Lawyer Taylor looked satisfied and pulled Bennett’s submission letter from his briefcase.

“Do you know this person?” He was too lazy for pleasantries with Chinese people and asked straight out. “An Englishman – perhaps an English girl, likes writing and drawing, um… not very old, probably not a good temper, rather spoiled, likes fantasizing…”

These were personality traits he’d deduced about “Bennett” using his “graphology” expertise.

Su Minguan took the yellowed manuscript paper and read Miss Compton’s submission letter from last year with apparent seriousness.

“Steam Ship Maiden Voyage Passes Test, Chinese Shipping Delivers Perfect Credit Score”…

Su Minguan’s eyes crinkled as he recalled many reckless episodes from the past.

Though the shop was well-ventilated, beads of sweat appeared on his nose tip, as if he’d just returned from outside. He casually picked up a fan and unhurriedly fanned himself. The fan’s shadow fell across half his face, casting dark shadows that couldn’t hide the gentle light in his eyes.

Watching his spring-rain-like smile, Lawyer Taylor suddenly wondered inexplicably – could this Miss Bennett be his lover?

In any case, the breakthrough lay with this man.

“Do you understand?” Lawyer Taylor’s fingers drummed the sofa armrest impatiently. “Tell me this lady’s name and address, whose family she belongs to. I’ll pay you. I…”

He suddenly remembered to express friendly goodwill and added: “…I want to hire this lady as my daughter’s tutor, absolutely no ill intent…”

Su Minguan’s mouth curved up as the smile faded from his eyes.

Seeing this lawyer rush out from the consulate and then to the newspaper office… so his trump card was here.

Though Su Minguan wasn’t present, he’d been following the trial’s progress through a sworn brother working at the consulate.

Though he didn’t know why this lawyer suspected “Bennett,” after all his investigating, the clues still pointed to Yixing. Su Minguan had been prepared.

He calmly returned Miss Compton’s manuscript.

“I don’t know or recognize the foreigner who wrote this,” Su Minguan said half-truthfully. “But such a person does exist. Every month, a Chinese servant is sent to collect payment.”

Lawyer Taylor raised his eyebrows.

As expected. He’d still need to run around.

Not surprising. If it were too smooth, he’d suspect trickery.

“Since it’s a Chinese servant, you must know him. You probably also know his master’s address.” He confidently reasoned. “Give me the name and address.”

The North China Herald regularly published lists of foreign residents in Shanghai, including occupations and addresses. Privacy wasn’t valuable in this era, and no foreigner would engage in fraud over such matters. Thanks to this constantly updated list, expatriates could socialize, network, and cooperate, forming tight community groups.

With just one keyword, even a street name or surname… this person’s identity wouldn’t be hard to uncover.

Su Minguan gestured toward the letters with his lips: “How much payment?”

Lawyer Taylor was secretly delighted. What lover, what friend – wasn’t it all about money in the end? He’d long seen through Chinese nature.

“I’ll give you five shillings. Tell me this lady’s name and address…”

Su Minguan couldn’t help but smile, glancing at the exchange rate chart on the wall and explaining to his clerks with lip movements: “One silver dollar.”

Several Chinese people snickered simultaneously.

This made Lawyer Taylor’s skin crawl.

“One pound! For one sentence – don’t be ungrateful!”

Su Minguan looked up. The foreign lawyer’s narrow nose tip was gleaming with sweat, his wavy hair damp at the hairline. He seemed quite anxious.

All the more reason to treat him properly. Su Minguan leisurely instructed: “Someone bring tea. Prepare a fan for the foreign master.”

Lawyer Taylor was furious: “Do you know this Miss Bennett or not?”

Su Minguan smiled: “Her servant? We dined together just yesterday. The servant said his master was entrusted by someone to make a big scene in some court…”

This vague description immediately took effect. Lawyer Taylor no longer doubted, his eyes widening as he cried out: “It’s her!”

He steeled himself: “I’ll give you fifty pounds!”

Su Minguan frowned slightly, as if conscience and profit were battling within him. After struggling for a while, he finally made up his mind and extended his hand upward: “Five hundred taels.”

“…”

The foreign lawyer looked at those attractive hands, feeling extorted, and swept his sleeves to leave.

“Safe travels.”

Lawyer Taylor’s foot stopped above the threshold.

Five hundred taels of silver were only about a hundred pounds.

He reminded himself he was a rational person who couldn’t let emotion cloud his judgment.

The disputed dowry was five thousand taels. These five hundred were only one-tenth.

Sacrifice a small money to protect a large amount of money. Ma Qingchen would surely understand this calculation and reimburse him fully later.

He turned back reluctantly and said arrogantly, “Fine. I don’t have that much cash on me. I’ll have someone deliver it tomorrow…”

“I want it now. Hard silver. Not pounds or dollars. If you don’t have it, go exchange it immediately.”

Su Minguan said this leisurely and sat down to drink tea.

Lawyer Taylor clenched his fists and glared at him for a long time.

This was a rarely pleasing Chinese face. Though not the angular, high-nosed Western aesthetic, those Eastern-soft facial features were carefully arranged by the Creator, making it hard to find flaws.

But such a rare, likeable exterior contained such a profit-seeking miser’s heart?

Lawyer Taylor felt his just-renewed goodwill toward Chinese people plummet back to freezing.

But… he had no choice.

Who told him to be the one needing help?

Lawyer Taylor checked his watch again. Time was ticking away.

“…Fine. Getting money now. Hurry up!”

He gritted his teeth.

An hour had already passed. The court should have resumed. But he still had time. As long as he returned before sentencing…

But Lawyer Taylor had lived in Shanghai for years without leaving the settlement gates, using various foreign bank notes but never Qing silver, nor knowing where to exchange it.

Su Minguan shook his head helplessly.

“Never mind, I’ll accompany you. The nearest exchange shop is across the river.”

Ten minutes earlier, Lawyer Taylor would never have trusted an unknown Chinese man, boarded a Chinese boat without foreign command, and sailed to the Chinese quarter across the river.

But now, with “Miss Bennett” filling his mind, he nodded as if possessed. Following this handsome young Chinese merchant’s directions, he boarded a black-awning boat.

Two boatmen straightened up, looking at him with ill intent.

Lawyer Taylor’s security awareness was extremely high. He immediately commanded Su Minguan: “You get on too!”

Su Minguan gladly complied, jumping aboard and removing the gangplank.

In the small British Consular Court, the crowd’s patience had reached its limit.

Several foreign merchants quietly discussed the day’s exchange rates. A journalist opened his notebook and began softly interviewing his neighbor. Young ladies called servants to bring watermelon cut into small pieces and preserved in ice, beginning to discuss Paris’s latest fashion trends.

“…or perhaps we should call her Miss Bennett?”

Ma Qingchen’s words were like a sharp sword, stabbing a bloody hole in this harmonious tea party.

The entire court erupted.

…

“Emma? Are you alright?”

Miss Compton was deathly pale. This time it wasn’t an act. She struggled to find smelling salts.

Someone rushed down the corridor, pigtail swinging before the person appeared – a consulate servant.

“That lawyer Tai… Mr. Tai encountered bandits and can’t return for now. I just heard… yes, yes, he’s fine, rescued by Chinese people, no real danger. Foreign masters needn’t worry, just frightened…”

Everyone sighed in relief.

The consulate servant panted heavily while speaking and glancing toward Lin Yuchan in the gallery, secretly making a gesture.

Lin Yuchan quietly unclenched her fists.

She adjusted her tone and smiled innocently: “Mr. Macartney, you seemed to lose your composure just now and said some very strange things. Something about Mr. Bennett being a woman… perhaps I misheard…”

Dozens of heads in the jury and gallery nodded together. Sir Hong Bei turned kindly: “I heard it too. If this is part of your statement… Mr. Macartney, if you don’t mind, could you explain?”

Ma Qingchen’s mouth hung slightly open, his tongue stiff as an iron plate, whiskers trembling, suddenly struck dumb.

Meanwhile, at Yixing Shipping Company.

“You’re safe now. Don’t be afraid.”

Lawyer Taylor was still shaken, tremblingly accepting the hot tea Su Minguan offered.

Earlier, while crossing the river, curious about the Chinese quarter’s scenery he’d never seen, he’d gone to the deck with his hands behind his back to look. That Boss Su had repeatedly warned that foreigners shouldn’t show themselves here, but he didn’t listen, instead enjoying the Chinese people’s surprised yet respectful gazes.

Unexpectedly, this attracted trouble. The boat had just reached the opposite shore and hadn’t moored when another boat suddenly intercepted them. Chinese men with rags around their heads, fierce as devils, jumped aboard shouting broken English words like “give money” and “kill.”

Lawyer Taylor was scared out of his wits, regretting his momentary folly in daring to leave the settlement…

Fortunately, Yixing’s crew was brave, telling the foreign master to hide in the cabin while they fought the bandits outside. Lawyer Taylor only heard clanging combat sounds when suddenly the boat capsized and he fell into the water, becoming a drowned rat before being rescued by Chinese people.

The bandits escaped, leaving only ripples.

His suit was soaked, cufflinks caught with water weeds, dripping foul water. Su Minguan brought clerk’s clothing, apologetically saying this was the only outfit suitable for his build – perhaps he could change temporarily.

Lawyer Taylor, having escaped death, managed a cry-like smile to express gratitude and struggled to fasten the buttons.

So now he sat in a Chinese worker’s clothing, holding tea, still shaken.

Su Minguan looked aggrieved, trying to maintain politeness while complaining like a little wife: “I told you not to stand on deck, and look what happened!”

Lawyer Taylor said nothing, feeling terrible inside. Everyone knew the Chinese quarter had poor security, yet foreigners went exploring daily – why did he have to be the unlucky one!

He’d even implicated Yixing Shipping Company, which risked their lives to save him. Fortunately, they weren’t pursuing the matter – truly generous.

If these Chinese aboard hadn’t been able to fight, might he now be a floating corpse in Suzhou Creek?

Lawyer Taylor busied himself tidying up, temporarily forgetting about “Miss Bennett.”

Su Minguan handed him a dripping wallet.

“Thank heaven it wasn’t stolen.” He said politely. “I caused you suffering and dare not accept this money. It seems the gods won’t let me profit.”

A gentleman loves wealth but obtains it properly. Su Minguan upheld contractual spirit – Lawyer Taylor had made a fair trade with him, but since he hadn’t provided information, he couldn’t wrongly take the money.

He also couldn’t leave himself vulnerable.

Lawyer Taylor shakily opened the wallet. Hundreds of pounds in soaked notes, not one missing – the bank should exchange them for new ones.

He finally felt renewed goodwill toward this young Chinese man, relaxing into a smile and advising: “You should hire bodyguards for your boats and equip rifles… doing business so quietly like this, you’ll be bullied by other Chinese.”

Su Minguan’s mouth curved up, gladly accepting instruction.

But besides the wallet, many other things had fallen into the water and couldn’t be saved.

Like Lawyer Taylor’s business cards. Like his box of cigars. Like all of E.C. Bennett’s manuscripts, he’d just fraudulently obtained from the newspaper office.

Yixing’s crew held some wet paper fragments, looking troubled: “We could only fish out this much…”

“It should be fine, right?” Su Minguan graciously apologized and guessed: “If they were important documents, you foreigners would put them in waterproof leather bags.”

Lawyer Taylor’s face was whiter and more foul than those water-soaked papers.

He’d rushed out from court – what leather bag?

Why think so much? He’d nearly died inexplicably at Chinese hands.

Lawyer Taylor calculated that China was too dangerous. After earning money for two more years, he’d return home quickly.

After recovering for a while, when his condition was nearly restored, he suddenly remembered something—

“Ah! Too late!”

He couldn’t bother saying goodbye to the Chinese merchant, grabbed his wallet, lifted his robe’s hem, and awkwardly ran out.

“Stop the carriage—”

The crowd poured out of the British Consulate gates. Lawyer Taylor, disheveled and wearing lower-class Chinese laborer’s clothing, wasn’t immediately recognized and was pushed dozens of yards away by the crowd.

The expatriates talked and laughed, contentedly discussing:

“The wife beat the husband! I’ll write to England – Aunt Lucy will be so surprised she’ll forget to feed her sheep, hahaha…”

“No choice, the jury sided with her… beautiful ladies are always pitiable…”

“Mr. Bennett could write a book about manipulating the sacred British Imperial court from behind the scenes…”

“If I hadn’t come to listen today, I wouldn’t have known Parliament passed that new law…”

“Mr. Macartney is somewhat wronged, too. If this were a domestic court, the result might be different… no choice, that’s fate. His final performance was abnormal – it seems Lady Justice wasn’t on his side.”

Someone else rubbed their hands excitedly: “That sharp-tongued Chinese girl – her relationship with Mr. Bennett is definitely unusual! Hey Charlie, want to invite her to next month’s ball at your house…”

Lawyer Taylor leaned against a pillar and slowly slid to the ground.

But… losing the case, his lawyer’s fee was still due. Thinking this way, he wasn’t so dejected.

Only a few scattered people remained at the entrance. Ma Qingchen’s face was iron-blue as he accepted his walking stick and hat from attendants.

His servant, being Chinese and familiar with his master, fanned Ma Qingchen while quietly advising: “Not to speak out of turn, but Master, you’re a fourth-rank official in the Qing – you need face. I warned long ago that going to court would look bad. Between husband and wife, things should be resolved behind closed doors… You’re already a court official – a few thousand taels will come eventually. Why rush? Look at this mess! I advise you to quickly arrange things so this doesn’t spread beyond the settlement and become a laughingstock…”

In the consulate wing’s break room, three young women high-fived in celebration.

“Court fees are five pounds. Judge’s fee ten pounds.” Lin Yuchan suppressed her smile and extended both hands. “Ladies, please settle accounts.”

Miss Compton smiled radiantly and boldly defaulted: “Why ask me! I’m just a gallery observer here to rest. I’ve never met Mrs. Macartney, hee hee hee.”

Gao Dewen had performed throughout, playing the pure, pitiful little wife. Though she’d said nothing, it was hard work. By the end, her mouth was stiff from holding expressions.

Only when the verdict was announced and she saw the observers’ faces did tears fill her eyes.

“Thank you…”

When hastily marrying, love had clouded her judgment, and her heart was full of joy for a new life. She’d never imagined that entrusting her life to an unreliable man would bring endless troubles.

But she’d never imagined that in the double squeeze of law and morality, there could still be a winding path, though so narrow as to be nearly invisible, that someone had nonetheless walked. From that path’s end blew a breeze of freedom, making her feel fate had returned to her own hands.

Gao Dewen quickly collected her tears. Taking Lin Yuchan’s hand, she said steadily: “Qingchen and I will separate but not divorce. As long as I’m his principal wife, I’ll monitor his movements. Don’t worry – he won’t retaliate against you.”

Lin Yuchan smiled: “If he retaliates, it would be against Mr. Bennett.”

Gao Dewen bowed to Lin Yuchan and took cheerful leave.

“I’ll now supervise Qingchen’s withdrawal. The money will be delivered to your shop tomorrow. Miss Lin, don’t lose my life’s fortune!”

Miss Compton waved at her retreating figure: “Don’t forget class tomorrow!”

Lin Yuchan shushed her.

Too arrogant, Miss! There are still people outside!

Miss Compton covered her mouth, stuck out her tongue, then beamed as she collected and organized her manuscripts page by page. Seeing satisfying words and phrases, she occasionally leaned over to kiss them.

A Tang poem jumped into Lin Yuchan’s mind: Wildly rolling up poetry and books in ecstatic joy.

Perfect for describing Miss Compton now.

She hesitated briefly before dampening the mood: “Actually, these things should be destroyed…”

“No! In the future, they’ll be precious historical documents!” Miss Compton refused brilliantly. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep them safe and show no one! When people build women’s rights museums, I’ll donate them…”

“And your handwriting,” Lin Yuchan said. “It will probably be studied. Better change your script in the future.”

“Naturally. I’m prepared.”

Lin Yuchan had given all the warnings she could think of. Finding no other gaps, she finally smiled.

“Congratulations, Miss Compton – tomorrow’s newspaper headline is secured. Your father will probably work overtime tonight…”

“Call me Emma.” Miss Compton suddenly came over and gave Lin Yuchan a bear hug, her hard corset jabbing Lin Yuchan painfully. “You see, women can sue, can be lawyers, can use logic and rhetoric to beat those stinking men into the ground!…”

CRASH! The break room door suddenly burst open, the panel hitting the wall and interrupting Miss Compton’s boundless fantasies.

“Emma.”

North China Herald editor Mr. Compton’s face was stern, deep lines carved downward from his mouth corners. One hand braced against the doorframe, blocking the panicked girl inside.