An attendant knocked: “Sir and Madam, hot water is ready. Ring the bell anytime if you need fresh water.”

Lin Yuchan suddenly stopped crying, sniffling as she forced a smile: “I’ll go wash off this camel smell first.”

Westerners had just begun reestablishing bathing habits. This was Lin Yuchan’s first time seeing a British cast-iron bathtub in Qing territory – deep and wide, painted pale green outside, supported by four galvanized beast feet. Except for lacking plumbing, it was essentially identical to modern luxury European bathroom fixtures.

The bathroom had a small door connecting to a servants’ passage, with a brass bell hanging by the entrance for summoning service anytime. A small fireplace connected to a flue sent out steam, keeping the bathroom air fresh and pleasant.

The fireplace burned vigorously, the dark wooden floor warm underfoot. Hot steam softened her skin – a firm rub at her elbow produced a thin line of gray mud.

Actually just the normal state of ancient common people. But Lin Yuchan wanted to dig a hole and hide.

To think she’d squeezed in that camel box with him for several hours like this…

When the hot water filled the tub, Lin Yuchan finally had her first bath in two months. She treated herself like a camel rolled from the desert, showing no mercy with the loofah provided by the hotel, scrubbing mercilessly with laundry soap powder.

Capital men and women rarely washed their hair – when dirty, they’d scrape off dust and lice with combs, then apply hair oil for styling. Lin Yuchan had no habit of oiling her hair, but after persisting two weeks in prison, she’d abandoned principles and used the osmanthus oil Baoliang provided – otherwise it was unbearable to smell or see.

Two months of accumulated osmanthus oil came off bit by bit with soap powder, revealing a simple natural color.

Until her hair was black and astringent again, skin turned tender pale red, a thin oily film of dirt floating on the water surface, plus dozens of camel hairs…

So dirty. She quickly wrapped herself in a bath towel and hid in the changing room, rang for fresh water, had the tub thoroughly scrubbed, then properly bathed again, soaking in the steamy hot water with her mind blank for quite a while.

When she opened her eyes, her whole body felt refreshed, as if she’d lost three to five pounds.

Lin Yuchan wrapped her hair and turned back, smiling: “Anyone want to bathe?”

The bathroom door slid open silently. Su Minguan leaned against the wall, his gaze falling openly through the steam-filled room onto that black head bobbing in the water.

Ripples spread across the water’s surface as two slender white arms emerged. She turned over to lie face down, elbows relaxed on the tub edge, beckoning to him.

Su Minguan couldn’t help turning his face away. She was finally smiling.

He hadn’t seen her smile for over two months. That white-with-rosy, lotus-petal face lit with bright eyes like lamps in the night. Silky hair was bundled up with a few strands floating around her, water ripples creating halos around her.

Hot water washed away tear traces from her face. The capital’s foul dust and sand truly left her at last. Only now had this girl recovered.

He shook his head, helplessly raising both hands for her to see.

“A’Mei, bear with me a few days.”

The foreign handcuffs were too tight – he couldn’t even undo all his buttons. Bath? Forget it. He’d stay smelly.

Lin Yuchan’s face darkened as she said sternly: “Come here.”

He hesitated briefly, then slowly walked toward her, half-kneeling at the tub edge. From the corner of his eye, he glimpsed shoulder blades beneath the water surface, blindingly white like tofu soaking in water. The joints were tinged tender pink. She’d scrubbed herself too harshly…

Soft, steaming hands emerged from the water surface, grasping the button at his collar.

While feigning disgust: “Ugh, so dirty.”

Su Minguan wore neat short garments, already torn shapeless from a full day of fighting and fleeing, inside and out covered in mud and dust, with countless small tears. Only because it was pitch dark when checking in did the doorman not refuse entry for “improper dress.”

The first button loosened, and his throat moved unnaturally.

Fragrant water drops fell on his chest, moistening a small patch of fabric.

“A’Mei. No need.”

His voice carried a hint of pleading.

Lin Yuchan propped herself two inches out of the tub, undoing his second button.

While saying very seriously, “I’ll repay in installments. My share of Boya’s future profits, I’ll regularly deposit into Yixing’s bank account…”

Su Minguan’s ears reddened slightly. Looking at those slender, fluttering lashes in the mist, he couldn’t help smiling, softly telling her, “Closed.”

Her voice caught as she undid the third button.

“I’ll slowly repay in silver.” She insisted. “One hundred thousand taels of silver is just one year’s profit for a major trading house. It looks like a lot now, but when Boya gradually grows, it’s not impossible to earn. Don’t underestimate me.”

It wasn’t that she particularly wanted to owe this debt. But she had to make things clear, let him know she simply wanted to be good to him, not because of “great kindness with no way to repay except offering herself…”

“A’Mei…”

Su Minguan wanted to say something, his thoughts constantly disrupted by her nimble hands. She undid the last button, helping pull his jacket down—

The jacket caught at his wrists. Lin Yuchan’s expression froze.

This was the consequence of lacking spatial awareness!

It simply wouldn’t come off!

The undergarment wasn’t thin – forceful tugging couldn’t get it through the handcuff gaps.

Su Minguan finally couldn’t hold back, turning his head aside to chuckle continuously.

The bathroom was small, filled with steam, with tub and pipes resonating, making his laughter echo buzzingly for a long time like omnipresent mockery.

Splash! Before his eyes flashed as the angry girl stood up from the tub, boldly stepping out, hastily wrapping herself in a bath towel before going to rummage through the bedroom drawers. Wet footprints on the carpet.

Su Minguan was stunned for a long moment, looking at her half-visible back, his first reaction being regret.

He’d been distracted and missed seeing clearly!

That damn girl did it on purpose!

Su Minguan angrily clenched his fists, his wrists bound together by tangled clothing, unable to move.

He called out loudly: “I have no clean clothes!”

“I still have eighty taels of silver. I’ll make new ones for you.”

Lin Yuchan returned with scissors. The head wrap sat askew, exposing several damp black strands bouncing by her slender neck.

Su Minguan lowered his head silently, suppressing his breathing, letting her gradually cut the dirty shirt along the seams.

Fortunately, he’d seen this girl disheveled more than once, so she couldn’t fool him. A different, inexperienced young man would be utterly embarrassed now.

He couldn’t help extending both hands to gently caress her steaming, smooth shoulders.

But she twisted away, righteously declaring: “Hands dirty. No touching.”

Su Minguan: “…”

She hadn’t washed for two months, and he hadn’t minded!

Finally, that tattered shirt was torn off. The inner layer was somewhat cleaner but also scraped by stones and tiles when climbing walls.

Cut it off. Revealing smooth, powerful muscle lines.

Scissors picked at threads, blades snapping shut with regular crisp sounds. The cold blade occasionally touched his skin, making him shiver involuntarily.

Su Minguan awkwardly held up both hands, feeling like an unlucky prisoner being searched.

“There.”

With the upper garments completely removed, he finally couldn’t stand her pitying yet mischievous gaze, gently pressing her hand.

“I’ll handle the rest myself. Go have them change the hot water.”

Lin Yuchan wanted to say that with both hands cuffed together, taking off pants was also very inconvenient…

Forget it, leave him some dignity.

She lightly tapped his chest, pulled the bell, and ran off laughing, grabbing a pile of torn cloth scraps from the rack while looking around.

The guest room had classic Victorian English décor, hung with elegant, heavy crimson silk floor-length curtains completely blocking the Haihe River view outside. The Western cherry wood desk held a Bible, several books and newspapers, white paper, and a fountain pen. The room center had a four-poster bed with a footstool, plus sofa, clothing chest, and chaise lounge…

Only lacking the trash bin essential to modern hotels.

The Qing had few industrial products, with little daily garbage. The desk had only a ceramic fruit pit dish.

For large waste items, people usually call for direct removal.

A luxurious guest producing bloodstained, torn cloth with mud would certainly arouse suspicion.

Lin Yuchan thought to simply burn it in the fireplace.

Suddenly, among the cloth scraps, she found a wrinkled thin paper slip. Those two characters looked familiar – hasty writing saying: “Marry me.”

Lin Yuchan’s breath caught. Her ears suddenly burned hot, her mouth twitched, and her heart suddenly felt stifled.

“I… I received it.”

After standing dazed for who knows how long, Su Minguan’s voice sounded softly behind her.

Bare-chested, not yet having bathed, he instinctively felt the little girl might pull more tricks. So he waited alertly.

But heard no sound from her for a long time. When he came out and saw, his expression changed slightly.

The small note hidden deep in clothing for many days – he’d almost forgotten it himself.

But since she’d discovered it, he might as well confess: “Feng Yikan gave it to me after returning to Tianjin.”

Lin Yuchan turned around, forcing a not entirely happy smile.

“Do you know what it means?” she asked.

Su Minguan made an “mm” sound, looking at her apologetically.

“So you needn’t feel you owe me anything.” He suddenly said. “I had a choice. I chose to sell the ships.”

Lin Yuchan bit her lip, slowly nodding.

Between “marrying her to solve the problem” and “spending one hundred thousand taels to rescue her,” he’d chosen the latter. He’d rather sacrifice everything and end up with nothing than betray his original oath.

He was fighting the entire world. With his own clumsy hands, he’d built a lonely small boat, sailing away from that rotting world without hesitation, seeking his direction in dark emptiness.

He’d hit reefs, struck walls, made turns, witnessed storms and waves, never looking back.

How wonderful. Consistent inside and out.

Only… her first marriage proposal in life was ignored like this – so embarrassing.

Her eyes suddenly felt hot for no reason. Lin Yuchan quite pathetically regretted writing that note, really making trouble for herself.

“A’Mei,” Su Minguan gently hooked her hand, hastily explaining, “I just felt marriage is a great matter of heavenly way, shouldn’t be used as an escape stratagem. Besides, if I played Xiao Sanlang, I’d have to go to the capital to claim you, show my face before court officials – someone might investigate my identity closely. I couldn’t risk it – not from cowardice, but fear of dragging you down too… Moreover, you also acted from emergency expediency, a desperate measure. What if you regretted it later…”

Lin Yuchan said quietly, “I was rash. Too anxious then. This plan was full of holes, shouldn’t have… you, just pretend you didn’t see it.”

She picked up the bundle of cloth scraps with the note, about to throw it in the fireplace.

Su Minguan grabbed her arm, spun her half a circle, his deep black eyes reflecting the vigorous flames as he faced her directly.

“Miss Lin.”

He seemed impulsive, yet seemed to muster great courage, saying somewhat stiffly: “But now you’re safe. No need for expedient measures. May I marry you now?”

Lin Yuchan looked up in shock. Su Minguan’s mouth was somewhat rigidly pressed, thick lashes motionless as he watched her cautiously.

For that instant, she saw in his eyes a little boy, at most ten years old, who would rage and quarrel. When his beloved toy was lost, he’d rather drain an entire pond dry. To spite adults, he’d rather starve himself seven or eight days – a willful yet fragile little boy.

She opened her mouth, voice nearly hoarse: “But…”

There was a full-length mirror by the fireplace. In Su Minguan’s peripheral vision, he saw a disheveled pauper, wearing only torn pants, body not exactly clean, decorated with scars, sweat, and mud, hands locked together with black handcuffs – three points more wretched than indentured laborers at Tianjin docks.

He took a deep breath, saying quietly: “Su Minguan, ancestral home Meizhou, Guangdong, born Daoguang twenty-second year, Year of the Water Tiger. Birth time… I’ve written it all for you. Fortune tellers say I’m destined for an official position and wealth, abundant clothing and food, but they probably miscalculated. I’m currently penniless and in debt… but I really can’t bear seeing you scheming against me like this a second time. This past month, I’ve thought it over repeatedly – even from a practical standpoint, with a husband, others would at least show some consideration… I’d thought of this before, but… no, that’s wrong, I truly want to be your husband, officially announced to heaven, earth, and ancestors, the formal kind…”

He suddenly stopped, hating his tongue. He had a silver tongue that could make business partners and clients consider him a confidant and gladly pay up. Now he was incoherent, managing to argue himself out of something quite natural!

What did “from a practical standpoint” mean?

What did “the formal kind” mean??

Su Minguan simply stared at her desperately, eyes filled with fierce nervousness.

Those simple ideals he’d guarded for years, the solid fortress he thought he’d built – since having her, they seemed to encounter cannons and rifles. After stubbornly resisting year after year, they were crumbling.

Just a little extra pressure, just a moment of wavering will, and they’d collapse completely.

Lin Yuchan’s heartbeat was chaotic. Unconsciously, she was backed against the wall. The deep red wooden wainscoting was warmed by the fireplace temperature, heat waves washing over her shoulders and arms in bursts, steaming up blurry mist before her eyes.

She looked down, seeing Su Minguan’s hands – beautiful, capable hands. To risk entering the capital seeking her, they’d been locked up by others and still weren’t free.

He’d thrown himself into a swamp, abandoning all external possessions, covered in mud, unable to care for himself.

In exchange for her being clean and clear, able to get up and run forward without worries.

She took a deep breath, answering in the tiniest voice: “But I don’t need a husband now.”

Su Minguan’s body trembled slightly, his fingers curling.

“Moreover, I’m now a titled Lady personally conferred by the Empress Dowager. Similar incidents are unlikely in the future.”

He paused, murmuring: “Are you blaming me for not choosing the first path?”

“No. You also said it was an emergency escape plan. Naturally, no need to mention it now. Moreover, when I sent the note, I was hesitant, afraid of disappointing your trust, afraid you’d misunderstand. I didn’t expect you to do it. When Master Feng replied that he’d missed you in Shanghai, I wasn’t too disappointed. Perhaps Heaven was warning me – my troubles ultimately must be solved by myself.”

Lin Yuchan looked up seriously: “I also don’t want to marry for practical reasons, don’t want to trade marriage for safety. This world has too many traps for people like me. Being forcibly married is nothing – just one small pit not worth mentioning. You used your life’s beliefs as the price to fill this small pit for me, but I won’t have smooth sailing from now on. Are you worth it?”

The flame in Su Minguan’s eyes slowly solidified, suddenly somewhat embarrassed. He wanted to hold her hand, but suddenly remembered she found him dirty, hands helplessly suspended in mid-air.

He’d trampled his past self underfoot. He bristled with false bravado, but deep in his eyes hid humility unmatched at any previous time.

“Can we say I misspoke just now?” His voice carried anxious pain. “I admit I was a fool before, alright? A’Mei, if you feel today isn’t a good time, let me prepare and try another day…”

Lin Yuchan covered his mouth with her hand.

Then, standing on tiptoe, she reached around his neck. Clean and white in her bath towel, she pressed against his sweaty, disheveled chest.

Su Minguan said quietly, “I haven’t bathed yet.”

“You’re not a fool, don’t say that.” Her voice was hoarse, trembling slightly from his clear, strong heartbeat. “Xiao Bai, people’s thoughts change – I understand. But if you change, I hope it’s from the heart, not because of me or anyone else. You understand… You made a vow, then you grew up, felt constrained, decided to break it – this is perfectly normal, no one would laugh at you. But please never betray your vow for my sake. That way, you’d be conflicted and suffer. If you’re unhappy in future days and remember today, you’ll hate me.”

She said much in one breath – many thoughts previously accumulated in her heart, not yet formed, were burned into clear shapes by the fireplace flames. Like instinct, she spoke each word.

“Of course, others won’t understand. We can pretend to be married, tell lies, and claim whatever we want. But we should be clear in our hearts.” She pressed against his ear, asking calmly, “Think again carefully – do you want to marry and have children, or are you just making an exception for me?”

Su Minguan didn’t move. Those few gentle words pinned him down like nails.

After a long time, he sighed and smiled.

“Can’t it be both?”

She persisted: “Which is more?”

“If it’s the former, would you agree?”

Lin Yuchan hadn’t expected him to be so direct, her expression momentarily hesitant.

“Fine, I understand.”

He took the cloth scraps with the note from her hands, looked one last time, and threw them in the fireplace.

The room suddenly brightened for a moment as flames swallowed that shy “marry me.”

Then he turned, with a trace of loneliness, breaking free of her embrace, saying softly: “Rest early.”

He couldn’t take a single step. Slender arms suddenly exerted force, stubbornly pulling his shoulders back.

“Su Xiao Bai, you’re so unreasonable.” The little girl’s face was flushed, her laughter carrying tears and the wild energy of surviving disaster, asking him, “Can’t you just be my paramour properly? I don’t need a husband, but I need you.”

She raised his hands, looping them from overhead to her waist, embracing his neck again to completely lock him down, then desperately kissed him with frustration.

Su Minguan’s eyes contracted as his fingertips gently fastened on her smooth back.

She was thoroughly soaked by hot water, incredibly soft, skin glowing pale red like a fragile yet dazzling butterfly just emerged from its cocoon.

“A’Mei,” he gasped, hoarsely warning, “Careful not to get dirty…”

She ignored him, gently caressing his neck, picking a patch of tender skin to mischievously bite.

Salty – the taste of dust and sweat. Mixed with residual fresh soap scent from her body, plus a hint of smoky aroma escaping the fireplace…

She’d never bitten him there before. A clear line of fire shot straight from that spot to his heart. He hissed as the world became utterly quiet.

He lifted her. His wrists were in severe pain and couldn’t be separated, so he could only tighten them, pressing her against the pale yellow floral wallpaper. Her bare feet nearly left the ground as she struggled uncomfortably, still finding opportunities to complain mercilessly: “This paramour is no good… mm…”

Some beast inside broke free of shackles, strangling the throat of the rational Su Minguan, turning him into a hot-headed madman.

Something soft fell warmly on his foot. He kicked it away.

That little rogue with terrible kissing skills who didn’t know it, that shy woman who still liked to provoke him, wore only a lonely bath towel three feet long, six feet wide, edges loosely tucked under her arms…

Given her figure, honestly speaking, it wasn’t very secure.

After all her running around and carrying on, that it only fell now made it a conscientious towel deserving a dedication award.

Lin Yuchan cried out, belatedly wailing: “Annoying… bathed for nothing…”

Su Minguan nearly lost his mind, naturally pressing against that soft body radiating heat, asking one last time with restraint: “Have you thought this through…”

“You’re hurting me, be gentle…”

“What if…”

“Don’t worry about it… Don’t touch there! Hands dirty…”

He suddenly turned fierce, fingertips pressing hard, abandoning himself to that scalding fragrant embrace. Like ice breaking on a river, snow falling from mountains, a long-drifting ship finally reaching shore, the disoriented sailor was clearly on solid ground, yet couldn’t shake off the overwhelming dizziness. Under thin skin, two rapid, powerful hearts beat together.

Biting her arm, he broke free of her restraints in two or three moves, carrying her to dump in the bathtub. Fresh hot water was still steaming.

The bathtub was excessively spacious. He swallowed a ragged breath and stepped in, too. Splash – water overflowed everywhere.

He picked up the loofah she’d used and threw it in her hands, placing his own hands atop his head, closing his eyes in resignation.

“Wherever you think is dirty, you wash it.”