“But Master,” the head foreman of Yason Shipyard was a stocky young man with a face full of acne, aged twenty-four with sixteen years of work experience, sitting in his chair like an iron tower. “Tomorrow both sides negotiate together – the foreigner can’t possibly run between two places.”

Li Fugui said with shifty eyes: “Mr. Fonan told me that tomorrow he’ll negotiate at the textile factory, and for the shipyard side, he’ll ask a partner to handle it.”

Su Minguan smiled: “Fine, you go back! Don’t let the foreigner suspect you.”

Li Fugui grinned sheepishly, cupped his hands to everyone present, lifted the door curtain to look left and right, then limped away to take his leave.

The acne-faced young man called after him: “Fellow townsman, sorry about that! I’ll treat you to drinks later.”

Li Fugui turned back with a smile: “No problem! Just be gentler next time – the foreigner even gave me medical expenses.”

Several textile factory group leaders listened with envy, jealousy, and hatred. Why was someone else’s comprador so understanding?

“Mas… ter,” Sister Jing still wasn’t used to this form of address. Learning from others to call him that, she felt it was too full of martial world atmosphere, and she blushed first. “You’ve also seen our evil comprador. We don’t understand a foreign language and fear we’ll suffer tomorrow.”

“There will be interpreters.” Lin Yuchan took a sip of tea and continued. “It’s inconvenient for me to appear, but Yude Women’s Academy has several outstanding students willing to help. You can say you met them by chance, that they couldn’t stand injustice and were willing to stand up for female workers.”

Back in the day, this women’s school was quite shabby with countable students – either church orphans or concubines, plus a few prostitutes with extensive business. Now proper families’ daughters and daughters-in-law came to attend classes and broaden their horizons, and they could select “outstanding students” capable of conversing with foreigners.

Lin Yuchan didn’t dare take credit. It was mainly Gao Dewen who had invested much effort.

The interpreter problem was solved, but that was far from enough.

“Also,” Lin Yuchan opened her notebook and spoke methodically, “try to get the female workers to observe the negotiations. You can’t fight alone, and it avoids questioning from companions. Rest for ten minutes after talking for an hour to report progress to everyone. When there are major disagreements, you must vote. Rather than temporarily suspend negotiations than compromise carelessly. Otherwise, when you step out of the office, you’ll please neither side.”

Representatives from the textile factory and shipyard listened carefully, memorizing in low voices.

A female worker suddenly said, “If the foreigner promises wage increases…”

“Remember our four conditions? Once achieved, immediately resume work. Only this way can we gain people’s trust.” Lin Yuchan immediately said. “We can’t add conditions temporarily. If the foreigner proposes using wage increases to replace some condition, we need to suspend negotiations and let all female workers vote for agreement.”

Su Minguan gently refilled her tea.

“Xiao Zhang,” he suddenly commanded the acne-faced foreman in low voice, indicating with his eyes. “The shipyard has Hong Men organization, so tomorrow should go more smoothly. After it ends, you call dozens of people to act as spectators, go watch the excitement where they negotiate, don’t let people chase you away.”

Yason Shipyard had Heaven and Earth Society members with extremely strong cohesion to begin with. Plus her theoretical guidance, within days, they had the foreigners helpless, with victory close at hand.

Xiao Zhang agreed with a smile.

“Finally,” Lin Yuchan said, “don’t forget to demand immunity clauses – make the foreign boss guarantee that wages will be paid as usual during this period, no one’s responsibility will be pursued, no dismissals, no prosecutions, no retaliation. This must be implemented on paper with his signature.”

The scorching sun hung on the pointed top of the gas lamp. The textile factory negotiations went on for a full five hours.

The group leader representatives were already parched. Mr. Fonan was like a bristling lion, accompanied by several ill-intentioned hyenas and fat wolves, extremely demanding about every word in the clauses. Sometimes, he bullied the female workers’ low education level; he deliberately used convoluted words to disturb their emotions.

After fighting for it, the female workers were allowed to observe the negotiations. At first, it was packed, everyone rushing to squeeze by the door to listen. But as time passed, the female workers became exhausted, slouching and falling, with only a few persisting to stay.

Someone even shouted: “This is boring to death, I want to work! Agree, agree, just agree to everything! Make them hurry up and pay wages!”

Fortunately, there weren’t many, and they were immediately persuaded down by their sisters.

Passing vendors routinely distributed free cooling drinks and snacks.

Outside the office, spectators also gathered more and more. Poor common people couldn’t afford to delay too much time due to livelihood pressures; gradually, among the onlookers were more idle people in long robes – literati, merchants, country gentlemen. Seeing a group of lower-class female workers confronting foreigners regardless of propriety, many shook their heads.

“What kind of behavior is this!” A scholar angrily pointed and gesticulated. “Women should stay home, yet coming out to work already violates natural law, and now arguing with people, arguing with men! Who would dare marry such a woman? Any children raised would be troublemakers! Dragging down society! If my wife were so improper, I’d break her legs when I got home!”

Several people echoed.

Another informed person whispered gossip: “I heard from this factory’s comprador that the female worker who died had stolen factory property, was discovered, and committed suicide out of guilt! These women don’t understand reason, only know close relationships, and don’t know great righteousness. After all this fuss, it turns out it was just for a thief! So the sage said, ‘Only women and petty people are difficult to raise’ – right! You can’t reason with them, only beat them! Ah, this foreigner is still soft-hearted.”

Several negotiation representatives heard this and became agitated.

But soon, suddenly, a large group of people surged into the courtyard, and the guard thugs couldn’t stop them.

“Who’s a thief? Did you see the thief with your own eyes? Speaking irresponsibly, aren’t you afraid of retribution?” A rough man shouted at those scholars. “And you, since you’re informed, why don’t you say their factory supervisor is a lecher who insisted on groping breasts, causing that female worker to dash herself to death? I say that woman was righteous, more backbone than you cowards!”

The rough man had an extraordinarily loud voice and crude language, immediately shouting at the scholars eight feet away.

“Support the strike! Damn it, licking foreign boot soles means you can bully us Chinese at will? Today groping big-footed women’s breasts, tomorrow going to grope your wives and young ladies’ breasts! You just watch obediently! A bunch of traitors!”

The scholars wouldn’t stoop to the rough man’s level and slunk away along the wall.

In a small black-awning boat on the river, Su Minguan listened to his subordinate brothers’ “groping this and that,” sipped tea, and his expression was complex.

After so many years, they still hadn’t been led astray by him – truly a miracle.

And beside him, someone teased: “It’s fine, you can occasionally say such things to get closer to the masses.”

Su Minguan: “…”

Never.

He leaned forward, across the tea table, gently kissing that unguarded little mouth.

“Informants report that Wusong officials will search my boat tonight. I leave this to you.”

Public opinion among spectators completely reversed. In the office, Yao Sister Jing heard those waves of support and couldn’t help straightening her back.

Yason Shipyard had won.

“It’s two o’clock, we need to eat. If we can’t talk it out today, we’ll talk tomorrow. We’re not in a hurry.”

She was made to leave.

The emperor wasn’t anxious but the eunuch was – the comprador hurriedly said: “Hey, come back…”

News just received: Yason Shipyard had completely collapsed, with the capital forced to accept all worker demands.

The other clauses were manageable, but “immediately pay wages with interest” – Mr. Fonan would either have to cut losses or take high-interest loans, definitely a major hemorrhage.

With the textile factory still dragging on without resuming work, in two days his comprador salary would probably be delayed too.

“Sister, let’s talk nicely…”

“Who’s your sister? Wait till you get fired tomorrow, then we can have fun together.”

The female workers were confident, smiling as they looked at the comprador, making his fatty face droop and tremble.

“Boss, sir,” the comprador groveled, “how about agreeing to this clause too… it’s just kowtowing, we Chinese kowtow every day, don’t you believe in ladies first…”

Mr. Fonan had a splitting headache. Partners had already lost their temper with him several times, some even threatening to withdraw investment if the problem wasn’t solved. Now, even the comprador was holding him back!

He had plotted to split the worker groups, never expecting the first to split would be the capitalists internally.

But how could he compromise with a group of lower-class Chinese women? Paying wages at the shipyard was one thing, but here they wanted him to kowtow to a dead person!

And that “work injury compensation” – this was a long-term problem!

He angrily stood up and stormed out with a sleeve flourish.

“Get lost! All of you get lost!”

The textile factory negotiations fell into a tug-of-war, proceeding with difficulty for three days. Finally, the foreigner selectively agreed to all clauses.

The only modification: Mr. Fonan insisted on not kowtowing, only willing to bow to Wu Juemei’s spirit tablet.

The negotiation representatives had taken turns in shifts and were now physically and mentally exhausted, unwilling to argue further. Lin Yuchan also told them that back when foreigners met Emperor Qianlong they refused to kowtow – this clause was indeed somewhat unreasonable.

So everyone unanimously voted to approve: bowing was fine, but it couldn’t be perfunctory – it must be a full ninety-degree bow.

The female workers held their breath, staring unblinkingly at the dejected Mr. Fonan signing the reviewed agreement.

The agreement was in triplicate. Factory and workers each kept one copy, with another posted on the textile factory’s outer wall for public viewing for three days.

“Sisters, we’ve won!”

Walking out of the office, the negotiation representatives were embraced by colleagues who came running, and someone started the wailing and crying.

“Juemei can now rest in peace! You didn’t see Kong the Skin-Scraper’s expression! Hahaha… wuwu…”

“I, I really didn’t think they’d agree… originally prepared to take beatings and get thrown out…”

“Work tomorrow… wuwu, don’t forget, work on time tomorrow…”

“Everyone go to sleep, don’t worry about anything…”

Everyone encouraged, reminded, and comforted those emotions on the verge of collapse.

When walking out of the factory building, everyone stared.

But the female workers no longer cared how others looked at them. Various strange gazes falling on them only added to their chest’s pride.

The power of the collective was actually this strong – strong enough to make the all-powerful foreigners bow their heads.

Making the foreign running dogs open their eyes and, for the first time, speak with them as equals – these lowly, illiterate women.

Like drinking wine with strong aftereffects. Many were still immersed in an indescribable floating feeling, laughing and making noise with thick tongues, wanting to vent something.

The vendor selling perilla water pushed his cart over, smiling: “Mrs. Lin said there’s still millet to collect tonight.”

With the chamber of commerce hall doors closed, the female workers finally got to vent emotions, drinking prepared rice wine and wildly celebrating victory.

Not just them. Several young men from Yason Shipyard were also invited as “worker representatives,” seeing for the first time their “allies” separated by the Huangpu River, whom they’d never met.

All being poor proletarians, there weren’t many formalities. Everyone quickly became cheerful friends. Several older female workers began teasing people.

“Everyone,” Lin Yuchan waited for the crowd to calm down and asked, smiling, “Do you have any insights?”

After meaningful collective activities ended, there should be a summary meeting. Even elementary students understood this process.

Workers spoke freely – some said persistence was victory, some said they discovered they were so brave, some said if they’d known to organize earlier, Wu Juemei wouldn’t have died.

Suddenly, someone else stood up: “But those Fujian…”

“Right.” Lin Yuchan interrupted. “Not only Fujian sisters, but sisters of other origins too, though not group leaders, they also performed outstandingly in the struggle. Who were they? Does everyone remember?”

The female workers’ attention was diverted, forgetting to denounce “scabs,” chattering and quickly naming several people.

So-called troubled times produce heroes – only when given enormous pressure do many people’s potential emerge.

Lin Yuchan recorded these names.

“Then I propose that these sisters can serve as deputy group leaders in the future, assisting the group leaders’ work. Also, I noticed that Yangshupu Textile Factory and several other textile factories had female workers come to support our actions. We should contact them more in the future – if anything happens again, we can look after each other.”

The female workers agreed but felt somewhat dazed.

They were still immersed in past victory, while Lin Yuchan was already looking toward “the future.”

Lin Yuchan continued guiding: “During the strike process, what experiences do you have?”

Yao Sister Jing spoke eloquently, summarizing: “We must unite. Must be of one heart. Whatever situations arise must be collectively voted on, can’t have one-person rule. Must have clear struggle goals. Must have reliable leaders, layer by layer message transmission… Regular communication to understand everyone’s thoughts…”

“Right!” Yason Shipyard workers added. “Also, persistence is precious. The masters will bribe us – can’t be fooled, and can’t negotiate behind closed doors. Also, picket teams must be organized from the start…”

Someone else said: “Next time we can divide work more finely, best to find someone who understands law as advisor, also scribes, also people specifically responsible for negotiations… Right! Can’t always depend on Mrs. Lin’s millet – usually save some funds ourselves to ensure everyone doesn’t starve during strikes!”

Once thinking opened up, workers chattered and quickly summarized detailed practical “military tactics,” many surprising themselves.

“Haha, sisters, if we were men with chances to study, we’d probably be officials now, hahaha…”

Following “military tactics” in the future, without step-by-step discussion, they could fight for greater rights.

Hearing “military tactics,” Lin Yuchan’s heart stirred.

This experience summary suffered from the inability to put it on paper. First, workers were illiterate and couldn’t read; second, if it fell into others’ hands, it would be giving people evidence against them.

She suddenly remembered Heaven and Earth Society’s pile of outdated secret jingles, instantly understanding their significance.

She asked: “Does anyone here know folk songs?”

There really were several female workers from western Guangdong who usually burst into folk songs and ditties, now proudly standing up.

Lin Yuchan then asked them to stay afterward, planning to compose this experience and process it into catchy ballads for workers to memorize. Even if she wasn’t there in the future, they could follow the map to continue struggling.

Then someone asked if they could borrow the venue weekly for gatherings, sisters chatting together was more interesting than wandering the streets aimlessly: “We don’t want millet! We can bring our tea!”

Lin Yuchan naturally agreed: “We can set the schedule now, discuss one topic each time. Those interested come, won’t waste everyone’s time.”

“Mrs. Lin,” suddenly a female worker said, “I heard from Aunt Hong that she paid some ‘membership fee’ and has people protecting her. Can we also pay membership fees? In the future, if this happens, everyone will work together!”

Lin Yuchan couldn’t help laughing.

Would paying party dues work?

But she knew herself. Now, even Marx himself was being chased by police with nowhere to hide – if she dared organize some proletarian unity, she’d probably be swept up by local security within two hours.

Do what each era should do. Better to rely on Heaven and Earth Society – at least they’d survived several hundred years.

“Paying membership fees” was easy. But paying fees meant getting on lists – if they encountered some crazy local official who treated “bandit suppression” as entertainment and political achievement, it would be an unnecessary risk.

She still needed to carefully explain to the sisters.

Moreover, since Heaven and Earth Society’s founding, it had always been a very traditional gang organization. The few female members were all related to male members – they’d never recruited large numbers of strange women. Lin Yuchan naturally disagreed with this, but she still couldn’t decide on her own to avoid causing Su Minguan trouble.

“Mm, I’ll go back and discuss with Minguan.”

But going back she didn’t see Su Minguan. A note in the mailbox said he was going on temporary business, would disappear for several days, don’t worry.

This was common for him. Lin Yuchan then finished the strike action herself, supervising capitalists’ fulfillment of agreements, establishing a good textile factory-shipyard contact network.

Then went back to work overtime, catching up on business put aside during this time.

Empress Dowager Cixi no longer ordered from her, but Western skincare products’ reputation was already established. After advertising several times in newspapers as “Empress Dowager’s imperial use,” there were still frequent orders from wealthy families requiring Lin Yuchan’s attention.

Also, the tea production line’s steam engine had been used for years with rising maintenance costs, and boiler power was somewhat insufficient. Technical director Mao Shunniang heard that Indian tea plantations used British-designed new tea production lines and was very envious, having long nagged about getting a set to see.

Lin Yuchan naturally couldn’t miss such technological innovation. She found out about a Nanyang merchant going to Calcutta, spent days getting close to him, then promised substantial profit to have him bring back a machine model.

Then ask Jiangnan Arsenal to imitate it – this Qing Dynasty’s largest munitions factory, in its seventh year of founding, had now completely devolved into surface bureaucracy, using costs several times higher than foreign countries to produce barely qualified domestic weapons. Executives embezzled in various ways, while technicians and apprentices on meager wages had no motivation to work diligently, with moonlighting everywhere.

Taking advantage of no intellectual property protection these days, she hurried to “learn from all sources” – no one would run from India to sue her for compensation.

Finally, returning to the small Western-style building, several orphan girls were chattering, playing sedan chair carry in her living room.

Lin Yuchan instantly returned from commercial battlefield to elementary school dormitory. Playing the caring big sister, inquiring about everyone’s studies.

After two months of enlightenment at the women’s academy, the girls had only learned a few hundred Chinese characters and could recite a few English sentences.

Good thing they weren’t taking exams together with Rong Hong’s “government-sponsored students” – they’d definitely be outperformed.

This wasn’t urgent – the key was adjusting mentality, preparing to leave home and country.

All girls around ten years old, though now having enough food and drink, inevitably had moments of emotional outbursts and homesickness. Lin Yuchan had a universal response: “Do you want to go back and have your feet bound, to be someone’s beast of burden?”

The answer was naturally negative. Then look forward and prepare to suffer.

……………………………..

One week before the scheduled departure date. Lin Yuchan had arranged work, packed luggage, and exchanged enough US dollars.

Su Minguan’s “business trip” still hadn’t returned.

Lin Yuchan worried for no reason. Going to ask at Yixing, before reaching the door, her legs went weak.

Yixing Shipping Company’s storefront was tightly closed, crisscrossed with official seals.

Su Minguan stepped into Tianjin’s Astor House Hotel’s Indian colonial-style arched portico, dazzled by glass chandeliers, feeling somewhat like another lifetime.

Four or five accompanying ship owners, half having never seen such luxurious Western hotels, some studying fireplaces, some poking piano black and white keys, all laughing: “Foreigners really know how to enjoy themselves, this trip was worth it, haha…”

Only Zheng Guanying touched nothing, disdainfully looking at the nearby country bumpkins, then at Su Minguan who seemed familiar with such places, his eyes showing rare heroic mutual recognition.

Due to investing in “Fair Steamship Company,” equivalent to owning three-fifths of a steamship, and having already donated to become a department chief, Zheng Guanying was invited as a “prominent ship merchant.”

The one who invited them to stay at the hotel was a staff member of the current Zhili Governor-General Li Hongzhang, calling himself Sheng Xuanhuai, a young and capable man. His invitation letter was soft yet firm, inviting various leading Shanghai ship merchants to Tianjin, ostensibly for a reward vacation.

Since the other party was an official, everyone had no choice but to put aside business and travel thousands of miles to “vacation.”

Su Minguan originally didn’t want to join this excitement, but after years of ups and downs and reshuffling in Shanghai shipping, Yixing had become one of the most senior major shipping companies. His absence would inevitably attract attention.

So everyone showed their abilities, separately taking their own or friends’ sand ships, sailing ships, steamships, parading across the sea and arriving in Tianjin, were immediately invited into Astor House. Sheng Xuanhuai warmly welcomed them, stating that travel expenses would all be reimbursed by the government, and everyone shouldn’t be constrained.

Since publicly reimbursed, Su Minguan wasn’t polite either, first choosing a guest room at the corridor’s end, taking a brand new bath towel embroidered with “Astor House” from the room, planning to pocket it as a gift.