“Feilun…”

This was Lin Yuchan’s first reaction.

“Madam, Feilun pulled through. Don’t worry.” Mrs. Guo knelt on the ground, looking up to comfort her. “But the other little girl you sent, that Huang Dajiao, she, she had bad luck…”

Lin Yuchan bit her lip, her eyes suddenly moist, and nodded heavily.

In ancient times, human life was as worthless as grass—any common cold could kill. She thought she had grown accustomed to the corpse carts rolling through the streets daily.

She suddenly turned to Sister Teresa, sternly questioning: “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Sister Teresa’s face was ashen as she quietly explained: “I, I didn’t think it was that serious… didn’t want to worry you, madam…”

With the children all falling ill, the orphanage factory couldn’t operate normally. Sister Teresa feared Lin Yuchan would stop paying wages, so she reported everything was normal. She thought that after the epidemic passed, she could have the children work overtime to catch up.

Besides, the cotton harvest season hadn’t arrived yet, work wasn’t busy, and Boya didn’t often send people to supervise. Sister Teresa, driven by a bit of greed, hadn’t reported truthfully to Lin Yuchan.

Lin Yuchan glared at her fiercely, feeling it wouldn’t be unjust if she were shackled for a couple of days.

She asked: “How are the children now?”

Miss Ordansey pointed at the seals on the door, so angry her words were incoherent: “What do you think! This is the fine work of you, Chinese!”

Lin Yuchan didn’t mind her angry words, pushed through the crowd of onlookers, and went closer to examine the seals.

Personally sealed by the Shanghai Prefect. Dated three days ago.

She reached into her bosom, trembling as she fumbled several times before pulling out some small coins, apologetically saying to the officials: “Please loosen the shackles on these women a bit. The one wearing the head scarf is my old neighbor—Officer, what exactly happened at this orphanage?”

………..

Through the words of the officials, Miss Ordansey, and Sister Teresa, she managed to piece together the events of these three days.

During the recent hot weather and continuous heavy rains, cholera broke out at the orphanage, killing over a dozen children within days. The small carts carrying corpses in and out couldn’t escape the eyes of nearby residents.

While the church running an orphanage was charitable work, some missionaries had bullied people by taking advantage of their position, disparaging Chinese gods and Buddhas, which annoyed people. Additionally, the “toleration clause” of the Treaty of Tientsin not only granted churches privileges but also protected Chinese converts. So local ruffians mixed into the church, terrorizing the countryside, further provoking local resentment.

Normally, the cowardly people would walk around missionaries. But this time, they witnessed the orphanage “abusing to death” numerous children. Someone followed to the burial ground, dug up those small corpses, and found one had already been mangled by wild dogs, with an incomplete body in a pitiful state.

The rumor about “Westerners digging out children’s hearts and livers” exploded again. Troublemakers fanned the flames slightly, immediately igniting years of popular resentment against the church.

The people stormed into the orphanage, saw room after room of sick children, and in righteous indignation immediately took action, beating several nuns until their faces were bruised and swollen, then dragging them to see officials. Bishop Lang Huairen and several foreign missionaries who were conducting mass nearby were also beaten and injured, hurriedly jumping walls to escape, now hiding in the French consulate, recovering from their wounds.

The newly appointed Shanghai Prefect Ding Richang had a resolute character, determined to eliminate accumulated abuses, and had long been dissatisfied with various Western privileges. He adopted a tolerant and permissive attitude toward the rioting people, essentially giving the church a hard slap in the face.

“Hmph,” several officials sneered coldly, “The Western monks have treaty protection, so if the higher-ups don’t pursue it, so be it. But these poisonous women have yellow skin and black hair—we can’t easily let them off. Shackling them for a few days as a public display, to console those children who died unjustly, isn’t unreasonable, is it?”

Lin Yuchan refused to leave, insisting on asking: “Then, what about the children inside?”

“They’re all infected with epidemic disease and can’t be released!—Anyway, the big ones inside take care of the small ones. We throw in some rice daily, and they won’t die! After a few more days, we’ll get a master to exorcise ghosts, then figure out how to deal with them!”

Lin Yuchan: “How will you deal with them? Send them for official sale?”

The officials sneered coldly, tacitly confirming her guess.

From within the orphanage, separated by just a wall, came faint crying sounds.

The officials shooed people away: “Hey, madam, and you foreign lady, this isn’t your business. There’s miasma in the courtyard—you’ve seen the excitement, now disperse!”

What miasma. Lin Yuchan knew it was probably just contaminated drinking water.

She pulled Miss Ordansey aside and said quietly: “This matter requires going to the French consulate! Have them submit a diplomatic note to the court! Quickly get the children out for treatment first!”

With the reputation of “great powers,” they usually didn’t do good deeds, but now they should get to work and interfere in Qing domestic affairs!

“I already went.” Miss Ordansey paced anxiously. “The orphanage was run by French missionaries, but the British consulate won’t handle it. The French consul is on vacation, and his secretary says this matter isn’t urgent… Those damned rice-eating idiots, when there’s a commercial dispute, they arrive faster than anyone. Now with living children locked in buildings suffering from disease, they have time for vacation!”

Lin Yuchan was stunned: “They won’t handle this matter?”

Miss Ordansey cursed repeatedly: “God curse these lazy bureaucratic fraudsters!”

Lin Yuchan’s expression was grave as an alarming suspicion arose in her mind: “The Shanghai Prefect deliberately controlled the situation to prevent Western casualties. This matter won’t escalate. But the consulates won’t swallow this insult. If… if a few more children die here, or if some Chinese nuns are tortured to death by the yamen, it evolves into a bloody religious incident, then they can make a big fuss, sailing warships to protest. This new Shanghai Prefect would have to step down, and there might even be huge compensation.”

Miss Ordansey’s face changed: “You mean… the British and French are waiting for things to escalate? God, would they watch Chinese children die of disease?”

She had come thousands of miles with a heart full of kind enthusiasm to spread the gospel, not knowing that many well-dressed compatriots doing the same work had entirely different calculations in their hearts.

Lin Yuchan took out all the dozens of silver dollars from her bag—originally intended as a donation for the children’s meal expenses—found the lead official, and humbly gave them to him.

“Your Honor sees, though those believers are detestable, the children inside are innocent. This civilian woman knows several female doctors. Please, Your Honor, show some convenience, let them go in first to check on those children and deliver some medicine.”

The officials had been guarding outside the orphanage for several days, listening to the continuous crying of children inside. Being human, they felt uncomfortable too.

It was just that, without orders from above, and with folk rumors about foreign plague demons inside, no one dared enter.

Seeing that Lin Yuchan was a young woman who couldn’t cause trouble, they discussed briefly and took the money.

They even kindly reminded: “Delivering medicine is fine, just be careful not to catch the disease.”

Lin Yuchan quickly asked Miss Ordansey to go to several nearby church hospitals and request several Chinese nurses with some medicine.

Half an hour later, six or seven people came.

The officials shook their heads with expressions like they were watching the dead, opened the back door, and let these people in.

The nurses were extremely nervous, covering their faces with a cloth.

Lin Yuchan had learned in biology class that cholera was a digestive tract infectious disease caused by drinking contaminated water sources, not transmitted through the air. But seeing the nurses beside her treating it like a deadly enemy, she also covered her nose with a handkerchief.

Just as she finished tying the handkerchief, someone suddenly called from behind: “Miss Lin! Benefactor!”

A freckled little girl, Huang Hu, stumbled over crying and hugged her waist.

Several nurses shouted: “Hey, don’t touch her!”

Lin Yuchan’s nose stung as she forcefully embraced Huang Hu.

“She’s not sick, she won’t infect me.”

Huang Hu sobbed loudly.

For her, though the orphanage had coarse rice and plain clothes, it had playmates, nannies, and no moody grandfather—it was the rare joyful time in her short life. Unexpectedly, after just a few months of happiness, rioters broke in, smashing randomly, and she too received several beatings. Later, when all those nuns and nannies were arrested, Huang Hu wondered: Have I been abandoned again?

She hugged Lin Yuchan tightly without letting go, her shoulders shaking as she cried hoarsely, pointing to a large shed behind her.

That was Boya Company’s cotton processing factory. It had already been smashed to pieces by angry people. The stored cotton had vanished, and the wooden cotton gin machines were all dismantled, taken home by people to burn as firewood.

Lin Yuchan pressed her lips together, forcing out a smile.

“As long as people are safe.”

She asked Huang Hu again: “How many are sick?”

Huang Hu pointed sobbing to a dormitory.

The orphanage was understaffed, so children handled everything themselves. Without adults, these past few days, there had been no chaos.

Huang Hu had supported a household from a young age, developing remarkable maturity. Though new to the orphanage, after several months she had become quite capable. She organized several older girls to take responsibility for care, cooking, and feeding the small children. The sick children were concentrated together for nursing, now all lying in that dormitory.

For ease of care, the young children were all naked. The air was filled with a faint stench.

The dead children had long been taken away for burial. Several empty beds in the corner had small crosses erected, with toys and wildflowers placed underneath by the children.

Lin Feilun was running a fever and finally lacked the strength to hit people, obediently allowing Lin Yuchan to pick him up.

“Good boy. You survived falling into a cesspit before.” Lin Yuchan pressed against his hot little face, saying gently, “Don’t you dare capsize in shallow water now.”

Lin Feilun weakly babbled a few sounds.

The nurses separately checked the condition of the sick children and sighed in relief: “None are in mortal danger.”

Cholera had a short incubation period and a violent onset, sometimes fatal within hours. But if not severe, surviving the initial diarrhea led to a harmless recovery period.

The most serious epidemic had passed. These living children lying in beds mostly just had dehydration and fever, too weak to cry tears.

But without adult care, bacteria could return at any time.

By now, British doctors had discovered that cholera might be caused by sewage. After consulting with the nurses, Lin Yuchan gathered several older children, instructing them to seal the wells within the orphanage, thoroughly clean kitchens and toilets, burn and discard contaminated clothing and items, and warn them to wash their hands thoroughly before eating. Then she distributed medicine and soap, explaining details about caring for patients.

“I’ll try to work connections to get the officials to release the nuns and nannies soon. Water carts will come daily to deliver water.” Lin Yuchan put Feilun back on the bed and told the orphans, “Hold on for a few days. Whether drinking water or cooking, everything must be boiled for three minutes.”

Some children didn’t understand the concept of minutes, so Lin Yuchan changed her words: “Count to two hundred.”

“But,” an eleven or twelve-year-old girl said fearfully, “the officials want to drive away the missionary nuns and sell us to other families.”

Huang Hu also nodded, saying quietly: “We’re not imagining things. We heard the officials outside discussing it.”

Lin Yuchan fell silent. If the orphanage couldn’t continue operating, how would these children be handled?

In the Qing Dynasty, with no human rights, “official sale” seemed a perfectly normal choice.

These were originally children unwanted by commoners—to officials, they had even less value.

She quickly estimated the worst outcome: if she took over entirely, the cost…

It would probably bankrupt Boya. After all, Boya wasn’t as wealthy as the church.

The nurses consoled them kindly: “The Western gentlemen will find a way. Don’t worry.”

Lin Yuchan nodded with little confidence: “I’ll work with the Westerners to find a solution.”

“Too excessive.” Miss Ordansey returned to her residence and ordered her maid to pack clothes. “By the time those suited bureaucrats take action, at least a quarter of these children will die. Luna, who is the official one level higher than the Shanghai Prefect? I need to go directly to him.”

Lin Yuchan was slightly alarmed: “The Governor-General of Liangjiang, Zeng Guofan… but the newspapers say he just left for Shandong to suppress the Nian rebels.”

Due to strong popular anger, the orphanage’s nuns and nannies were imprisoned and couldn’t be released immediately. While the British and French consulates refused to compromise and solve the problem, instead secretly hoping for casualties to use for extorting the Qing government. An entire orphanage of children became hostages caught between the new Shanghai Prefect’s dignity and the great powers’ arrogance.

Lin Yuchan: “Miss Ordansey, don’t be impulsive.”

Western consulate officials could freely visit Qing officials and boss them around, because they all came with warships and foreign rifle units.

Miss Ordansey had neither warships nor foreign rifles. But she wasn’t discouraged.

“Then I’ll go directly to Beijing—I’ve known the Bishop of the Northern Zhili Apostolic Prefecture for many years. I’ll go directly to the Zongli Yamen! I don’t care about British or French face—I want them to first pardon these poor nuns, nannies, and children!”

Lin Yuchan looked admiringly at this tall, thin lady over fifty. When she spoke, her back was ramrod straight, the hard high collar cutting into her neck’s skin, adding a note of determination to her voice.

But she had to pour cold water again, cooling Miss Ordansey’s burning anger.

“Beijing is far, and the roads aren’t safe…”

A maid handed over a note. Miss Ordansey read it and nodded with satisfaction.

“That young man from customs—what’s his name, oh yes, Robert. He’s going to Beijing to report for duty. Leaving tomorrow, taking Baoshun Trading House’s steamship ‘Water Sprite,’ arriving in Tianjin in three days.” Miss Ordansey pointed to a set of white porcelain tea service, ordering the maid to pack it. “He’s already agreed to save me a cabin. God bless him.”

Lin Yuchan stammered: “But you have no connections…”

Miss Ordansey smiled kindly, crow’s feet crinkling at her eyes.

“Now, Luna,” she patted Lin Yuchan’s shoulder, “God won’t allow me to stand by idly. He will show me a path.”

“A’Mei, I’ve read your letter. The overall wording is appropriate. But this sentence… You surely asked others to help polish it, so you might discuss whether to avoid certain taboos…”

In the private room of Yixing Tea House, Su Minguan held a brush, circling several characters on the letter draft.

Lin Yuchan didn’t take it, lowering her head. After a long internal struggle, she spoke quietly.

“I don’t want to write to Lady Wenxiang anymore.” She looked into Su Minguan’s surprised eyes, saying word by word, “I want to go directly to Beijing.”

Su Minguan raised his eyebrows and put down the brush.

“That’s not necessary, is it? Lady Wenxiang didn’t require you to…”

“Something happened at the orphanage.”

After saying these words, Lin Yuchan suddenly couldn’t help choking up, gently covering half her face.

Her back warmed. Su Minguan stood up and embraced her from behind.

“Mm?” His voice remained calm. “What happened?”

Lin Yuchan calmed herself and told him in detail about this morning’s experiences.

“The Shanghai Prefect intends to appease popular anger by dissolving the orphanage, selling the children, and forbidding missionaries from involvement in adopting abandoned babies.” She relayed the officials’ words, guessing the magistrate’s intentions. “The British and American consulates aim to delay, waiting for the Qing court to compromise and apologize, or for the situation to escalate, giving them negotiating leverage. Fortunately, Miss Ordansey wasn’t implicated. She plans to bypass the Shanghai Prefect and directly petition the Zongli Yamen.”

Su Minguan frowned slightly: “And you?”

“Her interpreter is sick at home with the epidemic. She’s alone and has difficulty communicating in Chinese. Moreover, she’s a Western missionary—dealing alone with officials might arouse suspicion of ulterior motives.” Lin Yuchan spoke quickly. “Wenxiang serves in the Zongli Yamen. Hede says he’s enlightened and tolerant, not pretentious. I can use the pretext of replying to the letter to visit Beijing and meet Lady Wenxiang, while accompanying Miss Ordansey to petition for the orphanage children. This should have better chances of success than her going to Beijing alone and barging around.”

Before Su Minguan could comment, she quickly added, “Business is all arranged, like the last business trip. Everyone discussed it. This is virtuous work—they’re all urging me to go quickly.”

She leaned against his chest, looking up at him, blinking obediently as if waiting for his opinion.

Su Minguan looked down, smelling the soap pod fragrance in her hair. He picked up a strand of her hair, twisted it between his fingers, and slightly dampened it.

“What,” he smiled helplessly, “the first-class cabin of the Water Sprite doesn’t have facilities for washing hair?”

Lin Yuchan: “…”

He saw at a glance that she had made up her mind, even washed her hair in advance—she wasn’t here seeking opinions.

Lin Yuchan felt a bit embarrassed and asked quietly: “You’ve been to Beijing. Is there anything I should particularly pay attention to?”

Before she finished speaking, someone knocked on the door.

She quickly stood up.

The shipping business had been increasingly difficult lately, with everyone outcompeting for contracts. The shop was usually cold and empty.

Unexpectedly, just as they relaxed a bit, someone came.

“Boss,” Shi Peng’s voice, “The owner of Anyu Shipping says that considering fellow townsman relations, he’ll give us a price of eight thousand taels. But he wants at least half in cash. He’s at the tea house now, waiting for your response.”

Su Minguan hesitated a moment, then called out: “Accept. But not today. Ask him to wait until tomorrow.”

Lin Yuchan temporarily forgot her affairs, her eyes widening in disbelief as she looked Su Minguan up and down.

“Acquisition?” she asked with a smile.

Su Minguan’s mouth quirked up as he gathered the tea and letters from the table, leading her to his room.

“We’re all Chinese merchant brothers. When Westerners create difficulties and some retreat, I can’t retreat—I must help support them.”

He spoke with such righteousness, he could practically be selected as a moving figure of the Qing Dynasty.

Western ship merchants engaged in price wars aimed at bankrupting Chinese shipping leaders headed by Yixing. But when big fish fought, the small fry usually suffered first.

While Yixing still held on, some less competitive small ship merchants couldn’t endure and went bankrupt. Even several poorly managed small foreign firms that joined the big firms in burning money and cutting prices found themselves broke after the money ran out, forced to sadly exit the arena.

Yixing took the opportunity to strike, acquiring assets of the defeated at low prices, quietly growing stronger.

Of course, this had to be done discreetly, without alerting the Western merchants.

Su Minguan closed the door and turned to embrace Lin Yuchan.

“I’m sorry.” He kissed her forehead. “I can’t accompany you.”

Lin Yuchan hurried to say, “Of course, you don’t need to accompany me! The shipping company is important. You’re walking a tightrope now with all the Western merchants watching you.”

Su Minguan smiled: “That’s not the reason. Beijing is at the Son of Heaven’s feet. I’m… rather timid.”

Lin Yuchan looked at his nonchalant expression and suddenly felt an indescribable loneliness. Golden autumn was brilliant, summer heat still lingered in the air, yet only his smile seemed cool.

He had a heart that soared over rivers and seas, but ultimately wasn’t free.

Lin Yuchan thought a moment and asked quietly: “Then I…”

“You’re fine.” Su Minguan pulled over a chair, sat down to grind ink. “But in case you’re forgetful, let me help you reminisce about your deceased husband now.”

Lin Yuchan watched with three parts amusement as he wrote rapidly.

“Su family of Wugong Hall, native of Meizhou, Guangdong, ancestral privilege as candidate for Chief Commander of Military Affairs with third-rank plume and button—purchased. In the fifty-sixth year of Qianlong, moved to…”

The dusty, thick family genealogy was picked up from the garbage heap by him, solemnly shaken clean.

“…You’re an orphan girl who can’t remember your family background, betrothed from childhood to their family’s only son, young master…”

Lin Yuchan sneezed and couldn’t help saying: “Unequal family status—this family’s master was too casual.”

“For dispelling bad luck.” Su Minguan fabricated shamelessly. “Anyway, in that year’s case files, young Master Bai died in infancy and wasn’t on the exile list.”

This was the result his organization had arranged when he secretly joined the Heaven and Earth Society behind his family’s back. It was also the first reward he got for struggling to save himself in that luxurious, decadent cage.

“…Three generations of grandfathers, direct and collateral lines, all written here. These are your deceased husband’s birth date and time. Since you’ve maintained widowhood until now, your devotion is stronger than gold, so naturally, you won’t forget these. If anyone asks, you must be able to answer immediately.”

He looked with satisfaction at his elegant, flowing calligraphy, dried the paper, folded it, and handed it to the girl beside him.

Seeing her accept it happily, he suddenly blushed and warned: “This isn’t a betrothal certificate, just a memo…”

Lin Yuchan didn’t react immediately: “What’s a betrothal certificate?”

Su Minguan: “…”

Ignoring her, he took another sheet of paper, changed to a small, regular script purple brush, pondered briefly, then slowly wrote a line of names and addresses.

“Hongmen mountain halls are everywhere with different attitudes, basically insignificant in the northern provinces.” Su Minguan said. “Last year, I discovered a surviving contact point in Tianjin—a tea house. But they have weak ties with Guangdong, just nodding acquaintances. When you go, don’t expect free tea—at most they’ll let you hear free comic dialogue.”

Lin Yuchan smiled and put away the note, remembering the name “Bajiao Tea House.”

She linked arms with him and smiled: “Come with me to buy some things.”