However, when she truly saw Hede step down from the carriage, Lin Yuchan approached him, her first words being sincere thanks.

“I remember this favor. I’m afraid I can’t repay it.” She bowed deeply, “I wish you success in your official career.”

This blessing would work. She hoped that years later, when Hede achieved success and controlled thirty percent of the Qing’s GDP, he would remember her auspicious words.

Hede probably hadn’t expected to see her again in Tianjin. Slightly startled, he raised his hat in salute and shook hands with her.

“I’m very glad to see you regain your freedom, Miss Lin.” He smiled politely, “It was just delaying a month’s official business. Helping an innocent lady is completely worthwhile.”

Delaying a month’s business was quite a burden for him. All plans disrupted, arranged social gatherings canceled, standing up countless contacts, incurring unnecessary costs, not to mention now with Haihe River frozen, ships couldn’t move.

However, grievances have their sources and debts their debtors—that gun wasn’t held to his head by Miss Lin. Hede didn’t mention his embarrassing experience of being kidnapped and having his ship hijacked, answering with great nobility.

“In the end, money’s influence was still the greatest…”

He smiled, glancing at the distance behind her. He wouldn’t greet the kidnapper. He feared that once he opened his mouth, he couldn’t help calling the police.

“Miss Lin, I also wish you great fortune after surviving great disaster, may you earn bushels of gold daily in the future, able to solve everything with money.”

Su Minguan called from behind: “Miss Lin, there are many carriages here, let’s not block the road.”

Lin Yuchan hesitated repeatedly, then quickly asked in a low voice: “He won’t be fined again in the future, will he?”

One hundred thousand taels was just the amount for buying the iron factory. Lin Yuchan was quite certain that the countless evil deeds dating from Boss Chu’s era—just tax evasion, smuggling private goods alone—according to the strict Qing laws, if truly settled, would be more than one hundred thousand.

Hede was silent for a moment, then suddenly smiled at her. The ice surface reflected sunlight, creating momentary colorful brilliance in his eyes.

“Thanks to your blessing, because of facilitating the iron factory transfer, I made a good impression in the court’s eyes.” He said lightly, “After New Year, the Customs General Tax Bureau will move from Shanghai to Beijing. I’ve been busy with moving recently.”

A cold wind blew, Lin Yuchan’s mind cleared with the chill, and she nodded in amazement.

“So, you’ll be living permanently in Beijing from now on?”

Living at the emperor’s feet, neighboring high officials and dignitaries—how many foreigners in all of the Qing enjoyed such treatment?

She couldn’t help thinking sourly: if Su Minguan weren’t a rebel, if he had early on purchased a glorious official title, then he could have stepped forward himself, taken down the iron factory, claimed credit and sought favor, gaining recognition before Li Hongzhang—that would have been money well spent.

Now, everything benefits the foreigners.

Though Su Minguan himself didn’t care about these things.

Hede said: “The new Jianghai Customs Tax Commissioner is a trusted confidant of mine. You’ll meet him when you return. I hope you’ll cooperate with customs work as always, and don’t think you can do whatever you want just because I’m not there. I’ll return for regular inspections, and customs regulations will become increasingly strict…”

Hede spoke a few official phrases, then suddenly stopped, his eyes showing a hint of cunning.

“As for Yixing Shipping’s shocking old account books… let me think, they’re probably sealed in Jianghai Customs’ archive warehouse… no no, damn it, maybe they were burned with other garbage. Those subordinates don’t save me worry. There’s no time to go back and check—can’t afford to delay.”

Lin Yuchan rubbed her hands in her sleeves, forcing a smile: “Ah, they didn’t do it on purpose, don’t be angry—by the way, has the new address for the General Tax Bureau been decided?”

She was thinking that since Hede was rising in the Qing’s officialdom, she needed to adjust her attitude and treat him as a real government official. Even if he didn’t mind, his vast office network couldn’t be neglected. During holidays and festivals, charcoal and ice gifts were essential—this was normal social exchange, not violation.

Hede saw through her little schemes but didn’t answer, suddenly smiling helplessly: “Don’t rush to find me in Beijing. I might have to return to England first, bringing back a well-matched wife… You don’t know how many Chinese friends now think I’m obsessed with Chinese girls… spare me. If I don’t take a stance, I won’t have peaceful days living in Beijing.”

Lin Yuchan exclaimed, “Ay ya!” and laughed with a red face: “Who’s so bored?”

Hede had some stubborn principles. He spoke fluent Mandarin and Cantonese, was thoroughly versed in Chinese culture, and moved freely in official circles—more Chinese than Chinese people. But simultaneously, he insisted on not wearing Chinese clothing, eating Western food daily, always adding milk to his tea, and firmly declining countless matchmakers trying to arrange cross-cultural marriages.

This time he broke his principles for a Chinese girl, overstepping to plead with superiors. Many people rubbed their hands together, thinking Hede, as a Chinese son-in-law, was finally settled. Later discovered he saved a widow who might not be suitable—no matter, as long as he liked Chinese people, everyone had resources…

Hede gained a pile of personal debts. To silence others and avoid suspicion ultimately, he could only sacrifice himself.

His home leave application to England had been submitted, just waiting for approval.

He surveyed the busy dock and port, then looked at these familiar acquaintances of various personalities who had considerable connections with him. His serious face showed a slight smile, very reluctant to part.

“Miss Lin!”

Suddenly a joyful shout. Victor approached dustily, opening his arms to her, laughing quietly: “I’m now a hero of the Great Qing!”

The “Northwest Border Demarcation Treaty with Russia” was successfully signed. Victor Levin, as Chinese advisor, completed his mission satisfactorily and returned with honor.

Lin Yuchan smiled slightly, waving to him.

This newly signed treaty was also discussed in the teahouse. The Qing signed countless humiliating treaties, and though this one was also quite “humiliating,” Lin Yuchan carefully recalled that it didn’t seem more outrageous than treaties in parallel history. Victor, whether from conscience or insufficient courage, had listened to Lin Yuchan’s warnings and didn’t manipulate from within.

Given the Qing’s national strength, one couldn’t expect too much. Not ceding the entire Northwest would be thankful enough.

As reward, Victor was hired as long-term advisor to the Zongli Yamen, also moving to Beijing with Hede. He was radiant, wearing full sable, surrounded by a group of spirited attendants.

“We’ll be living in different places from now on.” Victor was very reluctant, pretending to sob dramatically, “Miss Lin, I’ll miss you…”

“I will too,” Lin Yuchan said sincerely, “especially when using steam engines to process tea.”

Drivers and attendants urged the foreign gentlemen to board. Lin Yuchan ignored Victor’s bear hug request and, following habit, shook hands with him.

Then smiling, she asked Hede: “La bise?”

Such a childish pranking trick—Hede ignored her and shook hands. He didn’t want a gun pointed at his head again.

Hede beckoned, calling over an attendant who brought a long, flat box.

“You’ve seen this thing before. Since I’m moving to Beijing, it’s not suitable for display in my office anymore. Miss Lin, consider it a farewell gift.”

Lin Yuchan opened the box to see a precious folding fan. On it, ink flowed freely, writing seven characters:

“Learn the barbarians’ skills to control the barbarians.”

This was what Wenxiang gave Hede when establishing the Tongwen Institute. The slogan on the fan now seemed somewhat outdated. The Qing court had abandoned unrealistic hopes of “controlling barbarians,” changing to cooperating with foreign powers, and trying to “learn barbarians’ skills for self-strengthening.”

“You indeed learned quite a lot from me,” Hede half-joked, warning her, “I allow you to selectively use them on my compatriots. But no breaking the law.”

Lin Yuchan put away the fan, pursing her lips in a smile.

She should, of course, thank him grandly, but a competitive sprout in her heart still stubbornly extended its branches.

As the saying goes, once sold, no returns. She learned quite a lot from customs—how she used it afterward was beyond his control.

“By the way,” Lin Yuchan suddenly looked up, saying enthusiastically, “since you’re returning to England for vacation, could I…”

“Within ten ounces, please. The list of people asking me to bring gifts already fills a notebook.”

It seemed she wasn’t the only thick-skinned person in the world. She tentatively asked: “There’s someone who should be living in London now. If he has writings…”

Hede asked: “Who?”

Lin Yuchan took a deep breath: “Karl Marx.”

The bombshell sank without a trace. Hede shook his head, never heard of him: “German?”

“…If he has writings, I want to buy a copy. If you can’t find them… um, I want the latest European industrial products and invention catalog.”

Watching the customs group board cars and ships in a grand procession, Lin Yuchan’s mood was complex.

Nearly three years ago, Hede transferred from Guangzhou to Shanghai with a shipload of original staff—only twenty or thirty people.

Today, moving again, in grand procession with escorts front and back, the team had over a hundred people.

He progressed so quickly. What about her?

Thinking again, when she first came to Shanghai she was alone, but now her long-term workers, temporary workers, plus child workers also numbered over a hundred. In terms of multiples, she did better than Hede.

Some Ah Q-style self-consolation.

Su Minguan was too lazy to exchange pleasantries with foreign officials, finding a roadside stall to sit.

Lin Yuchan smiled and approached, gently poking his arm.

Su Minguan glanced at her, pretending dissatisfaction: “I thought you forgot about me.”

“Director Hede invited me to work at Beijing Customs General Bureau, five hundred taels monthly salary,” Lin Yuchan said seriously, “I declined because I want to accompany you.”

Su Minguan laughed heartily, not bothering with such things.

“Tofu pudding, salty,” he pointed to a bowl of steaming snack on the table, provocatively saying, “Dare you?”

For Lin Yuchan, this ideologically open and inclusive new-century socialist youth, salty tofu pudding was of course—

Barely swallowable!

On the third day stranded in Tianjin, the two finally relaxed their state. Staying in the room always led to inappropriate thoughts, so they went out early to eat. They tried all of Tianjin’s famous snacks—besides authentic Goubuli buns, they tasted jianbing guozi, fried cake, gaba cai, fried braised pork, big pear cake, sour grind cake, dou gen’er sugar, Eighteenth Street mahua, and sugar dui’er—also known as tanghulu, the essential snack of romance novels. Finally checking this off, each holding a string, sometimes giggling sweetly, frowning sourly.

Lin Yuchan felt the flesh on her body quickly returning, and walking shopping was finally not so tiring. Over several days they listened to opera, ballads, and crosstalk, observed Clay Figure Zhang making clay figures, and watched an English football match—football had just reached Tianjin, the players were very amateur, Lin Yuchan felt she could play herself.

Still energetic at night, they bought a set of Chinese chess to play in their room, where she was thoroughly defeated and owed countless positions.

By the seventh day, Lin Yuchan finally felt long-lost guilt. While gnawing on tanghulu, she worried:

“Cotton should all be harvested, don’t know how sales went…”

“Our Xingrui brand tea leaves, don’t know about production… the steam engine better not break down, little Mao girl can’t handle it alone…”

“Mr. Rong must have written again… don’t know if Miss Kang is still writing news articles… sigh, is my academy still there, did all the students run away…”

“I miss Feilun… I miss Huanghu… I miss Aunt Hong… I miss that Sister Ma who sells bean juice…”

Ancient times lacked instant communication, with too many accidents and randomness, causing people to lose contact when traveling, generating unnecessary worries.

Lin Yuchan finally lost interest in dating, buying paper and pen to scribble business prospects for the fourth year of Tongzhi.

Su Minguan waited patiently beside her. Actually, whether eating, drinking, playing, or working, anything was fine—as long as he accompanied her, he didn’t feel bored. A blooming little flower beside him—even doing nothing, just smelling her fragrance brought him joy.

But something still felt unsettled in his heart. Seeing her finish writing and pause, he suddenly lifted her from the chair across the space, placing her in his lap to caress, softly calling: “A’Mei.”

Lin Yuchan was suddenly airborne, feeling like a good-tempered cat constantly being petted, very dissatisfied: “…Wait, there’s still year-end dividend arrangements…”

“A’Mei,” he rubbed her earlobe with his lips, shamelessly asking, “feeling better physically?”

Lin Yuchan: “…”

“I’ve waited a long time.”

“…”

Where was Boss Su’s professional attitude? Career ambition? That cold, aloof, restrained, sinister persona?

She seriously counter-questioned: “Have you thought about anything else these days?”

“No,” he answered honestly, “just thinking about you.”

“Thinking while shopping, thinking while resting, thinking while eating tanghulu, thinking in dreams too. You know what I dreamed? I dreamed you forced me…”

Lin Yuchan’s cheeks immediately reddened, almost wanting to grab the inkstone and hit him.

Righteously saying: “Your thoughts are very dangerous…”

“I haven’t tasted being forced yet,” he said seriously, “You can force me, I don’t mind. Last time didn’t let you play fully, today I’ll let you tie me up, I guarantee no resistance.”

Lin Yuchan: “…Grand Master, have some shame…”

This person was the roundworm in her belly, knowing what she lacked and wanted, always thinking about turning tables and reversing positions.

Su Minguan slowly blinked, looking at her somewhat pitifully, mist filling his pupils like morning mountain fog that wouldn’t disperse.

“No, absolutely not,” Lin Yuchan steeled her heart, closing her eyes to avoid that face that could ruin nations, “I’m not… not safe.”

Last time was passion overwhelming reason, fortunately followed immediately by her period, escaping disaster. Now clear-headed, weighing pros and cons, she couldn’t take such risks.

“…It’s possible, but we have to wait until we return, return to buy… buy…”

Her face heated, forgetting what that thing was called. Might as well try making do.

“Ordered,” Su Minguan’s thumb caressed her cheek, half-laughing, half-serious, “But now probably can’t pay the balance.”

Lin Yuchan: “…I’ll pay.”

After saying these two words, hearing silent laughter by her ear, she realized that for some people, “lust overwhelming the brain” and “scheming deeply” could coexist. Su Minguan acted pitiful for ages just to make her say this!

Not only was she keeping a debt-ridden man, but she had to buy protection herself!

No justice!

The brief vacation finally ended. Lin Yuchan’s heart flew back to Shanghai, impatiently preparing to return to work.

She took a final look at the exquisite, luxurious English decor in the Astor House Hotel, calling the accountant to settle the bill.

Besides the ten-tael deposit when first checking in, later having people buy clothes, daily necessities, ship tickets, plus ten days’ room charges and tips, they paid another fifty taels total.

Lin Yuchan held the bill, clicking her tongue. When leaving Beijing, she had one hundred taels—now only thirty remained…

Several days of extravagant corruption had spent half a year’s income of a middle-class family. But for hotel guests, this was just normal consumption. Guests like them staying briefly, were the minority. Most people rented a suite in the hotel for a year or more.

Fortunately Tianjin had a concession, this paradise refuge, letting her completely recover from shock and restore her condition. Thinking of various work schedules after returning gave her full energy.

Arriving at the dock, checking tickets, finding the corresponding berth, she looked up and suddenly turned pale.

“Isn’t this…”

Yixing’s flagship Luna, repainted, flying British and Baoshun Trading House flags, whistled at her.

The bow was painted with large English letters announcing the steamship’s new name: Valkyrie.

Su Minguan pulled up his cloak hood, calmly pulling her up the gangplank, touching the paint on the handrail.

“Shipping doesn’t make money this year anyway, I had no money to maintain her, so selling was selling… mm, look, foreign paint quality is really good.”

He spoke very lightly, deliberately appearing heartless, like a scoundrel abandoning old love.

Lin Yuchan gently bit her lip, seeing where that big-bearded boatman should have stood, now replaced by a cross-eyed sailor who squinted, smiling obsequiously at foreign passengers while turning to scold: “Third class! Third class! Blind? Third class!”

Foreign steamship companies competed for customers, price wars reaching white heat. Being the first ship after Haihe thawed, passengers crowded aboard, order completely chaotic.

Su Minguan presented tickets, saying neither humbly nor arrogantly: “Second class.”

Foreign ships, foreign rules. First class is no longer open to Chinese. No matter how wealthy, the Chinese could only buy second-class tickets, still had to queue, and second-class tickets were only sold to the Chinese when there were leftovers.

Cross-eyes took the tickets, glanced once.

“Full. Go to the third class. Find the company to refund the difference when you reach the port.”

Lin Yuchan and Su Minguan exchanged glances.

Due to ultra-low prices, tickets were oversold—they were “downgraded.”

Yixing had such situations before, but standard practice was first inviting people to a restroom, then, when the ship departed, the captain or first mate personally came to apologize, discussing with everyone, offering small gifts, or promising next-trip discounts, seeing who would graciously move temporarily for a few hours. If cabins opened at the next stop, the ship workers immediately invited them back.

Business travelers were limited, everyone knew each other, human relationships and face were mutual—this usually resolved happily.

But on foreign steamships it was different. Even a small sailor had authority to decide who got downgraded, with only one standard: race.

Making trouble on foreign ships was a serious crime, directly handed over to the police. Lin Yuchan made eye contact, and they first went to third class.

Descending to the lower deck, they immediately smelled stench. Someone was transporting sheep, occupying half the space. Sheep bleated, droppings rolled everywhere, third-class passengers could only cover noses, squeezing together on bamboo mats on the other side.

The steamship whistled departure. Third-class passengers queued longest, many having no food or drink for half a day, very exhausted. Some went to wait for toilets, others stepped over legs and feet to fetch water from buckets.

Someone guarded the water bucket: “This is long-distance ferry, each person gets one pound of fresh water daily for drinking and washing—everyone use sparingly!”

As soon as spoken, complaints arose.

“Who said this? One pound is how much, ten liang? Ten liang of fresh water, not even enough to drink, making us endure six days?”

“Boss’s temporary rule, we have no choice.”

But on foreign ships, foreigners made the rules. When more people complained, ship security came down to check, threatening to send people to the police when reaching port.

Everyone could only swallow their anger, each rushing to get a pot of water.

After a while, the sheep transporter came to feed fodder, having people pull over the water bucket, pouring into troughs for the sheep to drink freely.

Passengers’ faces filled with anger, but no one dared complain.

Then someone noticed a woman in third class. Though she came with a man and found a corner, sitting with knees hugged inside him, that white face and clean jacket and skirt were still very conspicuous.

“Look, look!” someone excitedly pointed quietly, “Driven down from second class!”

So everyone forgot their unhappiness about water shortage, enthusiastically craning necks to steal glances at others’ women, quietly commenting on their figure and feet.

Su Minguan, smelling sheep stench, seeing his beloved steamship become like this, couldn’t bear it.

He pulled Lin Yuchan into the corridor, familiarly finding the first mate’s room, knocking.

“There’s a lady here, needs to change to second class. Please accommodate.”

The first mate had a big, round face but a sharp, narrow nose, squinting to size people up, like a fat rooster.

He suddenly stood, smiling and cupping his hands: “Hey, isn’t this Boss Su! Hehe, what wind blew you onto our Baoshun ship?”

“Baoshun” was emphasized with extra stress. Finished speaking, he reclined in his chair, crossed his legs, grinning at Su Minguan.