“How is there no one managing your father?” Su Minguan asked. “Do you have anyone else in your family?”

Lin Yuchan thought of that “home” crawling with rats and cockroaches, her feelings complex.

She shook her head: “Only one younger brother left, but he’s gone missing too. Doesn’t look like he’s been found.”

She and her “younger brother” had never met, so there wasn’t much emotional attachment. But he was an innocent child after all – forget children, even if it were a little dog, having such a family head would be unlucky. Who knows what sins he committed in his past life?

Lin Guangfu had damaged his brain by smoking opium and stubbornly believed the child had been captured by foreigners to have his heart dug out and eaten. Whenever it was mentioned, he would cry bitterly and roll on the ground.

However, whether Lin Yuchan or Su Minguan, both had dealt with foreigners and knew they also had one nose and one mouth – they weren’t monsters from Journey to the West who had such appetites.

“Maybe he was tricked into being sold as a coolie?” Su Minguan pondered. “How old is your brother?”

Lin Yuchan: “Sold as a coolie?”

She suddenly remembered that day when Hed conducted the surprise tax inspection, before leaving he inexplicably asked Wang Quan if he knew any clues about smuggling coolies. Wang Quan was confused, saying the pork we eat all comes from the countryside – no need to smuggle it.

This “coolie” was not that “coolie.”

Su Minguan: “These past two years, coolie traffickers have been rampant, luring young men to Southeast Asia to make money, but imprisoning them to work as free laborers. If young men from Guangzhou families disappear for no reason, they’ve mostly been sold as coolies.”

He found it strange and asked: “You live in Guangzhou – haven’t you heard of this?”

Lin Yuchan thought shamefully that she hadn’t heard of it…

The dark side of the Great Qing was richer than she’d imagined. She asked puzzledly: “Don’t the authorities care?”

Su Minguan said, “Initially, they only kidnapped poor people, so no one cared. It wasn’t until wealthy families’ sons started disappearing consecutively that the authorities began investigating, but they still haven’t found who’s doing it. Some even say the coolie sellers are the authorities themselves. These years with fiscal deficits, they quietly sell vagrants, death row prisoners, and such to Southeast Asia to increase revenue and reduce expenditure…”

He summarized: “So if you can’t find someone for a long time, don’t hold too much hope. By the way, with your current appearance, you should also be careful not to be tricked into coolie houses.”

Having experienced family destruction and death, he was accustomed to scenes of “flesh and blood separation.” He offered bland comfort, not afraid of appearing callous in front of others.

Lin Yuchan smiled bitterly: “Thank you for the reminder, Young Master.”

At the crossroads parting, Su Minguan checked his pockets, confirming the documents exchanged earlier were correct. He suddenly blinked and asked: “You mentioned earlier that Defeng Trading House’s tea-roasting workshop would be unguarded on… the tenth of next month, right?”

Lin Yuchan looked at him in surprise.

He already suspected it was a trap, yet he was confirming the date with her?

Su Minguan shrugged: “Better safe than sorry.”

This person’s eyes were bright and open, yet his every gesture seemed veiled in fog, making his intentions impossible to read.

She couldn’t help but earnestly advise: “Young Master Minguan, have you ever considered that if foreigners truly steal our Chinese techniques, within a few years, all the tea farmers and merchants in Fujian and Guangdong will starve to death.”

Su Minguan hadn’t expected her to speak so directly. He lowered his head and smiled slightly.

“A’Mei, the world is different from before,” he said after a moment. “A country can’t become strong by strictly guarding against everything. Progress comes from mutual exchange.”

Lin Yuchan was stunned. The reasoning was all correct, but the timing was wrong. A hundred years too early.

She said righteously: “The principle is right, but if foreigners learn this secret one year later, our China gets one more year of foreign trade silver. Even if someone will inevitably leak it in the future, I don’t want it to be you.”

Su Minguan sneered: “Am I so special? Thanks for the honor.”

Thus there was a sense of incompatibility in their conversation. Lin Yuchan thought stubbornly, why should she meddle in others’ affairs? Moreover, Wang Quan had already made arrangements – even if he wanted to be a traitor, he couldn’t succeed.

So she nodded, meaning “take care of yourself.”

Su Minguan smiled: “A’Mei, see you when we collect the goods.”

With that, he cupped his hands in farewell.

The moment he turned around, seeing that the area was quiet, he quickly pulled her braid.

“We’re even!”

Lin Yuchan cried out in surprise and spun around. He laughed silently, dusted off his hands, and strode away.

Lin Yuchan completed her “luring the enemy deep” mission and returned to Defeng Trading House to report.

Wang Quan increasingly trusted her abilities, asking this and that, mainly whether Young Master Su had taken the bait and if he would become suspicious.

Lin Yuchan was a messenger between both sides, and both sides were paranoid, each asking her to play along with their schemes. She could no longer figure out how many sides she was spying for. Exhausted, she simply shrugged: “Even if he becomes suspicious and doesn’t come, your business won’t suffer any loss. Why worry unnecessarily?”

Wang Quan thought this made sense and turned to designing the trap – how to create security vulnerabilities in the workshop, how to handle the tea leaves inside, how to forge roasting records, how to modify the “operation manual” to appear normal but actually be malicious, capable of ruining even the finest tea into dregs.

Of course, they had to symbolically place a few guards inside and outside the workshop so he wouldn’t succeed too easily. It would be best if, after he succeeded, they would shout and chase him for a while to make the “secret recipe” seem genuine.

All this was done quietly, not even telling Master Zhan and the others.

After arrangements were complete, Wang Quan became increasingly pleased with himself, his mind already sketching various scenarios: the “traitor” would painstakingly steal the fake secret recipe and treasure it as he presented it to the British devils. The devils would treat it as a precious treasure, immediately set sail for India to implement it exactly, resulting in complete crop failure for Assam black tea that year and immediate bankruptcy of the Assam company…

Wang Quan was an old business hand and naturally knew these dreams might not fully materialize, but even achieving ten or twenty percent would be extremely satisfying, enough to make him famous in Guangzhou’s business circles and earn universal praise.

Wang Quan squinted his eyes and hummed the popular Beijing opera “Heroes’ Gathering” contentedly.

“I intend to let him return, leaving camp gates unlocked… Pretending to sleep fully clothed, stealing glances to carefully observe his actions… Hahahahaha…”

Lin Yuchan returned to the Qi manor and before she could get her footing, was requisitioned by the butler for work. Young Master Qi Ancheng was putting on literary airs, having ordered a batch of Western instruments from Europe, planning to hire musicians and form Guangzhou’s first Western orchestra.

What arrived included tubas, trombones, cellos, violins, and a huge box loaded on a crude cart, obviously containing a grand piano.

“Push!”

The servant girls in the manor were all used like livestock. Lin Yuchan could only bow her head and willingly be a beast of burden, gritting her teeth as she pushed the piano.

There was a pit in the ground. Her hands shook, and seeing the wheel jump, that box was about to slide down – her thin arms couldn’t stop it!

Two other thin arms helped her brace the piano. The wheel jumped over the small pit, and a chord sounded from inside the box.

Lin Yuchan turned to see that the servant girl who had helped her had a round face – it was Xiao Feng.

Xiao Feng mocked coolly: “Such big feet, yet completely unreliable at work, hmph.”

Lin Yuchan retorted: “Vain beauty, wearing new clothes to do rough work.”

Xiao Feng was stunned and looked down at her new clothes, made from silk fabric the young master had given her, perfect for autumn weather, with chalk marks still unwashed from the shoulders.

Xiao Feng glared at Lin Yuchan, then looked at her brand-new hem, suddenly burst into laughter, muttered a curse, and bent down to push the piano with Lin Yuchan.

Seeing these two servant girls talking and laughing, the butler angrily said, “Cheap slaves! Do you know how much this piano costs? Even selling you by the pound wouldn’t compensate for one string inside!”

Lin Yuchan played deaf, mentally calculating what this piano would be worth in the 21st century.

Defeng Trading House’s business was declining rapidly – she had personally seen the huge deficits in the account books. Where did the young master get money to buy so many original imported instruments and have them shipped thousands of li to China?

Probably living off family savings, she thought.

But Master Qi had only been successful for about ten years since his rise to fortune – how much family savings could there be to live off?

By this time, autumn was thick in the air. When Cixi’s birthday arrived, typhoons were blowing, and it rained for several days straight, dampening the enthusiasm of Guangzhou’s dignitaries to “celebrate with the sovereign.”

Shops closed their doors and vendors knocked off early. In the harbor, turbulent waves rolled, and the sound of ships colliding could be heard for miles around.

Even in such weather, many ships still braved the wind and waves to enter port.

People who made their living on water couldn’t afford the slightest laziness.

A small sampan rode the wind and waves, following tributaries into the Pearl River, swaying left and right in the wind, struggling to dock at the shore.

Aunt Hong secured the oars, furled the sail, and wrung out the seawater from her trouser legs. Shading her eyes with her hand, she gazed toward the dark Pearl River wharf.

That day when Aunt Hong was harassed by several foreign sailors, though she managed to escape, Su Minguan had warned her to be careful of retaliation. Though she spoke tough, she was afraid of death. She had hidden in her Shunde hometown for a long time, only returning quietly after hearing that the foreign steamship had indeed left.

But encountering wind and waves, she only arrived late at night. With the curfew in the city, Aunt Hong didn’t dare go ashore and planned to spend the night roughly on the boat.

She wondered how that girl surnamed Lin was doing – had she gotten fatter?

Aunt Hong wiped her sweat, hung up the oars, turned to open her luggage, and took out a pillow.

Lin Yuchan waited outside the warehouse behind Defeng Trading House, half her body soaked by rain, sneezing several times.

She had to see whether Young Master Su Minguan would rein in at the cliff’s edge today or persist in his delusion.

If he “persisted in delusion,” considering he had helped drive away her biological father, she still planned to give him one final piece of advice, settling their debt of gratitude.

The Qi manor closed its doors at night with curfew – she simply didn’t return. In the morning she had spoken with Xiao Feng, asking her to cover if there were night checks.

Xiao Feng pressed her about what she was going to do. Lin Yuchan thought for a moment and smiled: “Meeting a man.”

Sure enough, this answer immediately energized Xiao Feng. She said excitedly yet contemptuously: “You’re not following the rules – I’ll tell the head matron! – Wait, which man would be interested in you anyway!”

This wasn’t wrong. Current aesthetic standards for women look at feet first, then face. Proper features were secondary – three-inch golden lotuses were the most beautiful sight. For big-footed girls like Lin Yuchan, many people were too lazy even to look at her face, automatically categorizing her in the “ugly woman” camp.

Only scholarly, refined gentlemen like Young Master Qi, who read themselves silly, would go against convention to notice her appearance and discover she resembled his white moonlight. But when the match was originally discussed, it was only after her father guaranteed that they could bind her feet after buying her that the Qi family was willing to spend money.

It was just that she had fallen ill and no longer resembled Meixian. In Young Master Qi’s eyes, she naturally became an ugly duckling again.

Lin Yuchan had benefited from this misfortune. Working among men at the tea house for several months, though there was occasional lustful harassment, it was all within controllable limits – her natural feet deserved much credit.

…

In Xiao Feng’s view, a big-footed girl risking “meeting a man” must be one-sided wishful thinking and desperate clinging – so embarrassing!

Xiao Feng spoke enthusiastically, but her feet didn’t move, her eyes full of a gossip’s gleam.

Lin Yuchan already knew this girl’s temperament – she just liked talking. Based on the principle of “not arguing with disabled people,” Lin Yuchan calmly accepted Xiao Feng’s sharp tongue and even found it somewhat cute.

She curtsied to Xiao Feng: “Please.”

Xiao Feng snorted mockingly. After Lin Yuchan turned around, she suddenly said to her back: “Watch out for night watchmen! If you’re caught, you’ll only be able to see men in jail!”

The Great Qing had curfews everywhere, but enforcement varied by city. Guangzhou’s foreign trade was developed, and foreigners weren’t controlled at night, so this curfew order was originally implemented loosely. But recently, due to rumors about “Jin Lanhe’s ghost” confusing the masses, authorities had increased crackdowns, with several times more night watchmen patrolling and serving as inspectors.

Lin Yuchan didn’t look back, smiling: “Naturally.”

So she successfully wandered the streets until dark, taking advantage of nightfall to come to the warehouse’s outer wall entrance and wait like a hunter for prey.

Heavy rain drove people from the streets. Nearby were only a few listless guards, mostly arranged by Wang Quan. If Su Minguan came to “steal secrets,” these people were responsible for pretending to chase afterward to make the secret recipe seem real.

But the guards weren’t very invested in the shopkeeper’s grand cause, all slouching under eaves – some smoking opium, others dozing.

Suddenly, the stray dog Mulan barked. Lin Yuchan looked up sharply to see a nimble figure walking steadily with an umbrella.

Lin Yuchan thought: “The traitor has arrived.”

Su Minguan walked very cautiously, his hat brim pulled low. He fished out a char siu bao from his sleeve and, without looking, tossed it to Mulan.

So the dog stopped barking. Only the sound of rain remained on the street, mixed with faint human voices from nearby courtyards. The whole world seemed washed by the sea, peaceful yet full of power.

He stood at the entrance, raindrops flowing down the umbrella’s edge like a waterfall around him, making his figure look like a sculpture.

After a long time, he lowered his eyelashes, pushed the key through his fingers, gently opened the door, and slipped inside.

Taking advantage of the creaking door sound, Lin Yuchan quickly moved several steps to hide by the door frame.

Looking through the door crack, Young Master Su was satisfied with the unguarded warehouse situation. He breathed a long sigh of relief, put away the key, and took out a fire starter from his chest to light a small lamp.

The lamplight illuminated his face. His expression was calm and solemn, as if he had something on his mind, his two handsome eyebrows slightly furrowed.

Perhaps he was conflicted about the “treasonous” action he was about to begin.

But he didn’t put down the umbrella. He twisted lightly at the umbrella handle, and the handle came apart – the umbrella shaft was hollow. He drew out a thin gun barrel from inside.

He lifted his clothing hem, tucked the gun at his waist, and propped the remaining umbrella parts in a corner.

Lin Yuchan’s breath caught in her chest, her heartbeat slightly accelerating as she held her breath forcefully.

The foreign sailor’s gun he had confiscated last time, he had made her return it immediately. This one was a different model, obviously his own.

Talking about “privately possessing firearms being a capital offense” – turns out he had long been breaking the law knowingly. He had his gun but wouldn’t let her take one!

Lin Yuchan again warned herself that this person was cunning and devious – she couldn’t believe anything he said in the future.

At the same time, she noticed cold sweat on her eyebrows. Su Minguan was well-prepared – if he discovered her peeking…

Well, raising her hands in time, the bullet probably wouldn’t hit her. Bullets were valuable these days.

She steadied herself and watched from afar.

The tea-roasting workshop was rarely opened to outsiders. Lin Yuchan was also seeing the interior clearly for the first time: several large stoves lined the walls with pots of different diameters sitting on them, tilted at specific angles; bamboo baskets neatly held brooms for roasting tea made of tied bamboo, with strict dimensional requirements for density and length.

On shelves along the opposite wall, jars contained different varieties of sample tea, densely labeled. Boxes held Western-imported mercury thermometers. Several nails protruded from the wall, hanging thick paper sheets meticulously recording daily operations, with someone checking and marking them – the papers were curled at the edges from use.

There were also semi-finished tea leaves at different processing stages, categorized and drying. Next to the shelves was a pile of miscellaneous items with various used utensils scattered about – observant people could also find “clues” there.

This was Wang Quan’s carefully arranged fake scene. Even professionals would find it hard to spot flaws.

Su Minguan didn’t show joy, still slightly frowning, but his actions showed he was very interested in all this. He brought the oil lamp close, examining every inch carefully. His footsteps were very light, only making rustling sounds when occasionally stepping on scattered tea leaves.

Some drunks passed by the window, singing off-key ditties. He immediately put down what he was holding and looked up alertly until the drunks moved away.

Lin Yuchan felt like she was watching a spy movie. Before the British sent him on missions, had they specially trained him?

He examined very thoroughly. He flipped through the “operation manual,” weighed tea bags by hand, felt pot bottoms to check temperature, picked up semi-finished tea leaves to taste, and even swept his finger across an entire wall, brushing away half a palm of dust.

Later, he simply felt along the walls inch by inch.

Lin Yuchan wondered – could he feel indoor humidity?

She hid by the door, against the same wall as him. Suddenly, she heard tapping sounds – he was lightly knocking the wall with his knuckles, the sound right beside her.

Tap tap, tap.

Lin Yuchan’s heartbeat inexplicably accelerated. Though it was only because solids conduct sound better than air, but…

It seemed like he was talking to her.

Suddenly, the tapping stopped. Su Minguan’s eyes flew open as he pushed aside baskets and old miscellaneous items beside the shelves, then moved a table, revealing a wooden board standing against the wall. The board looked like it had been placed there years ago, with caked dust and mold spots at all four corners.

He pushed hard against the wooden board. Strangely, what looked like a thin piece of wood wouldn’t budge.

Su Minguan lightly bit his lower lip, half-knelt on the ground, and felt around the board with his hands. Click – he triggered some kind of hook mechanism.

The board pushed open, and behind it wasn’t a wall, but… a door.

Or rather, a pitch-black hole about person-height that barely qualified as a door.

Lin Yuchan was stunned! She had thought – no, almost everyone at Defeng Trading House, big and small, thought the tea-roasting workshop only had one entrance!

Su Minguan wasn’t very surprised. He held up the oil lamp and peered into the hole. The lamplight outlined his profile.

“A’Mei, you can go now,” he suddenly spoke, saying calmly. “What I’m about to do, I don’t want to implicate you.”