Standing once again at San Francisco Port facing the deep blue Pacific Ocean, Lin Yuchan took a deep breath, feeling as if a lifetime had passed.
The elevator at the “Painted Stone Sculpture Hotel” still creaked, and the Hangtown fry on the bar’s first floor remained delicious. She and Su Minguan still booked separate rooms. She leaned against the windowsill, looking out, her head popping up among the street-side flower beds blooming with pansies. Outside the neighboring room’s window, someone softly whistled at her.
Lin Yuchan smiled at him through the window, gesturing “shh”: “Not now. Come tonight.”
The only difference from last time was an extra little pendant on her body, using her legs as crutches, like an alien first landing on Earth, tottering around exploring the carpet and flowers in the room.
A street performer played the accordion, entertaining himself by singing “Oh! Susanna”:
Oh! Susanna, do not cry for me;
I come from Alabama, with my Banjo on my knee…
Halfway through, he dramatically called out amid the lively accompaniment: “Thank you for Your Majesty’s reward!”
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Fortunately, this was said in English, and most other hotel guests couldn’t understand, otherwise they would have been quite startled.
Also traveling were several staff from the Qing Dynasty’s American legation, all whose overseas assignments and were returning home for promotion. As the saying goes, “A thousand days at home are good, but one day away is difficult.” Though life in America was affluent, it was still a barbarous land without Chinese cultural roots, so these officials, despite their high salaries, felt uncomfortable and applied to return home at the first opportunity.
Su Minguan led several new employees, helping them load massive amounts of luggage onto carts.
The newly established California Yee-Hing Company had absorbed dozens of unemployed Chinese workers, currently only handling simple, scattered small businesses for local Chinese, such as undertaking small construction projects, purchasing Chinese goods, buying train and ship tickets, delivering overseas packages and letters, labor law assistance, etc. They had also acquired a coffee shop adjacent to Chinatown as a temporary chamber of commerce and meeting hall, regularly gathering with Chinatown merchants to discuss the government’s latest anti-Chinese policies and countermeasures.
Employee quality was mixed, and training was not yet complete—most people could currently only sell their strength in moving luggage.
“Thank you. Handle this box gently.” Lin Yuchan directed the porters.
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Besides gifts to bring back to China, Lin Yuchan bore heavy responsibilities on this trip, carrying countless orders—some shrewd American merchants wanted to eliminate middlemen and get goods at low prices from her; the Qing American legation and study abroad bureau had found new premises in Hartford and were expanding, commissioning her to purchase building materials and decorative items from China, aiming to make a stunning impression worthy of the Qing Dynasty’s national prestige; Rong Hong had also secretly approached her, asking her to help collect some debts after returning to China, having been unable to find reliable agents for so long…
“Need so much money urgently—planning to take root in America?” Lin Yuchan asked with surprised laughter. “Or buying a house?”
Rong Hong stroked his beard, smiling without speaking, though his eyes flashed with embarrassment inappropriate for his age, momentarily looking like a young man fresh to society.
Lin Yuchan recalled recent rumors and made an enlightened expression. She rummaged through her bag and pulled out a stack of handwritten English letters. The paper was somewhat old, and the ink faded, looking like someone’s casual memos from years ago.
Rong Hong frowned at first glance: “What is this mess…”
“Legal guidance from Hartford’s former mayor,” she said with a grin. “If foreign Chinese want to marry in America…”
Rong Hong was a legal expert—how could he not understand this? His old face reddened in angry embarrassment.
“I’m American, thank you.”
Lin Yuchan stuck out her tongue slightly. She almost forgot.
“And it hasn’t reached that point yet.”
Lin Yuchan shrugged, making a face at him, asking softly: “Really younger than me?”
Rong Hong’s face flushed red as he picked up his tea, making as if to see her out.
Lin Yuchan laughed heartily, then tore up that stack of old papers and casually threw them into the fireplace.
Little ghost A’Xian pushed a small cart made of bamboo. Lin Youhua sat inside, looking at the rows of steamships at the dock and the passengers and workers coming and going, spirited and dignified, her dark eyes sparkling with authority, her sparse hair flowing in the wind like a reviewing general.
A’Xian had completed his sentence and seemed much more mature, the fierce look in his eyes subdued. He properly bowed to Lin Yuchan: “Bai… Miss Bai Yushan, bon voyage.”
Lin Yuchan laughed: “No need to be so formal. Minguan changed the rules in China long ago. Anyone who dares call me that in Shanghai will be back in jail the next day.”
She picked up her baby, kissed her cheek, and chatted with her. Lin Youhua had inherited her father’s clever tongue, learning to speak very early, and could now mumble a few words.
“Lu… Luna…”
Su Minguan’s expression darkened slightly as he reminded, “No manners. Call her Mother.”
“Luna!”
Lin Yuchan turned to look—the baby wasn’t calling her at all. She was pointing at the huge ship slowly entering port, flying the Yellow Dragon flag and China Merchants logo, her little face red with excitement, legs kicking wildly.
Su Minguan had to admit his mistake, saying he had failed to teach his daughter properly, causing Lin Youhua to think all ships were called Luna…
“That Luna has a small tonnage and can’t sail the ocean.” Lin Yuchan patiently reasoned with the not-yet-one-year-old child. “When you… When you grow teeth, I’ll take you to see them. Then we’ll go to Tianjin to stay in grand hotels, then to Shunde to eat fish soup, roast goose, double-skin milk, and hot pot…”
This trip was expected to last half a year in China. Lin Yuchan had considered bringing her baby back to find someone to help care for her. But small infants couldn’t handle long journeys, and if she got sick on the ship, there wouldn’t even be a doctor. Moreover, she was still officially a single widow with an imperial title in China—suddenly having a child by her side might attract attention from those with ulterior motives.
She would rather proudly announce to those around her, “This is my child” when the time was right, than lie and claim it was a relative’s or friend’s child, as if she had something shameful to hide.
After weighing all considerations, Lin Yuchan decided to go alone.
China Merchants ships had begun sailing to America. New regulations posted at the dock allowed friends and family to see passengers off. This was also a competitive measure to attract customers.
So Lin Youhua finally boarded her long-yearned-for “Luna.” The ship was spacious with a huge public lounge carpeted in blue cloth, with fruit and snacks provided. The baby excitedly crawled everywhere.
Su Minguan habitually inspected the ship’s configuration and various parameters with a professional eye, feeling quite reassured.
Nineteenth-century technological development was truly advancing with each passing day.
The Chinese sailors on board wore Chinese-style short jackets with braided queues, speaking in Ningbo accents, diligently helping Lin Yuchan with her luggage.
“Are you all in first class?” One sailor looked at Su Minguan’s Western suit with some hesitation, unsure if he understood Chinese. “This way, this way please…”
“Just her. We’re seeing her off. Please take good care of my wife during the journey.”
Su Minguan replied calmly, slipping several dozen cents into the first mate’s sleeve.
The sailors immediately beamed, competing to serve yellow wine and dried duck gizzards.
“You’re overseas Chinese, right? A big boss earning American dollars, haha… How long have you been here? Came by sailing ship originally? Hard work, hard work. Look at today’s steamships—so different! Full steam ahead, just over twenty days to Shanghai! Hahaha… Welcome to visit your hometown again, take our Chinese ships—comfortable!”
Su Minguan remained aloof without answering, sitting down to slowly sip the yellow wine. A long-missed taste. It reminded him of the small private room that belonged to them in Yee-Hing Tea House.
“One letter per month.” Su Minguan’s breath carried wine fragrance, his eyes clear, turning to look at that neatly dressed, delicate little woman. “If I don’t receive them, I’ll hijack China Merchants ships to find you.”
“One photo per month.” Lin Yuchan countered, picking up Lin Youhua and handing her to him, chattering about every detail: “Don’t take her to dangerous places, she needs a cup of milk daily, get her vaccinated when she turns one, and if there are other developed vaccines, get those too…”
Su Minguan listened patiently, then touched her forehead, saying lazily: “Only guarantee she stays alive.”
She laughed and scolded, bending to pick up her bag.
She was no longer that new mother held hostage by hormones, constantly worried about gains and losses. Her child carried genes of resilience and strength in her bones; her future would face countless storms and waves—she didn’t need a full-time mother keeping her in a greenhouse at all times.
She completely trusted leaving her with Su Minguan. In San Francisco, there were fellow townspeople in Chinatown to help. In New England, countless friends and young ladies could keep her company.
“A’Mei,” as she was about to disembark, Su Minguan suddenly pulled her aside a few steps, lowering his voice. “Brothers in China wrote saying the organization has disbanded, and times are tough. If you have the capacity, please help them more. Just be careful to protect yourself.”
She smiled at him firmly, saying no problem, then asked with a smile: “Will everyone listen to me?”
“Don’t underestimate your authority.” Su Minguan smiled. “If they didn’t listen to Bai Yushan, the Guangdong-Guangxi branch would have collapsed ten years ago.”
After a pause, he added, “If you don’t have time, you can also entrust reliable people. The general accounts for organizational affairs these past years, before I left, I hid them at…”
Lin Yuchan lowered her head and eyes, silently memorizing several addresses, then clinked glasses with him and drained her wine in one gulp.
Dark days still lay ahead for many years. But the long night wasn’t completely black. There were stars in the sky, fireflies on the ground, and countless people between heaven and earth who refused to abandon hope, cupping their wounded hands to protect clusters of small candlelight.
She leaned against the gangway suspended in midair, kissing him goodbye as if no one else existed. Then she watched her lover and child walk down the dock, turn back to wave at her, their figures disappearing behind clusters of flowers.
The steamship whistled, and sailors bustled about the deck. Waiters knocked on doors one by one, delivering tea.
Lin Yuchan opened her luggage in the small cabin and found mint oil for seasickness.
Then she checked her Derringer 1858 small pistol, counting bullets. With Su Minguan’s arrangements for this trip and friends already contacted to meet her upon return, there shouldn’t be any personal safety issues. But she was still accustomed to carrying this gun with her.
It was the one he had taught her to grip hand by hand; the delicate handle still seemed to carry the breath of youthful recklessness.
She put the gun back in her bag. Suddenly, her hand touched something hard in the inner layer.
Lin Yuchan’s chest trembled slightly as she slowly withdrew her hand, gripping another gun.
A weathered wooden-handled pistol, worn smooth carvings, thin barrel—familiar to her like an old friend.
Jin Lanhe’s token. Whoever held it was the leader of the Heaven and Earth Society’s Guangdong-Guangxi and Zhejiang branches. Though it was old and distinguished and no longer very useful, Su Minguan still wore it daily, never leaving his side.
Until just now…
She closed her eyes, vaguely seeing a handsome nineteen-year-old youth. Heavy rain poured down, lightning illuminating his cold, proud eyes and the countless pigeon coops around him. He gathered strength for an elbow strike, shattering a thin brick wall to reveal the faint firelight outside.
He glanced at that newly met little sister, pointing to the pistol at his waist, saying carelessly: “This is Jin Lanhe’s token. If you take it, you’re also Jin Lanhe… Hey, don’t look at me like that. I don’t plan to occupy this branch leader position. Don’t you fancy foreign guns? I’m giving it to you.”
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Lin Yuchan cleaned this belated gift, tested the smoothness of its parts, suddenly raised her hand, and squinted, aiming at the lighthouse spire outside the porthole.
Seagulls flew. San Francisco Port had become a thin black line, along with that small lighthouse, quickly disappearing into the deep blue waves.
The boundless sea spread before her. On the other side of the sea lay a glorious and ancient land. It had once drunk the fallen dew of magnolias, dined on chrysanthemum petals, mourned the hardships of people’s lives, and lamented that a hundred herbs were not fragrant. It had experienced rise and fall, been soaked in suffering, bathed in blood, tempered by fire, like an unsinkable giant ship, tilting and opening its precarious gangway to welcome generation after generation of tenacious travelers.
Lin Yuchan hid both guns under her skirt and quietly gazed at the blood-red clouds outside the window.
The sunset gradually fell, and the ocean surface grew cold and dark. In the neighboring cabin, there seemed to be a child traveling far from home for the first time, softly weeping in fear as night fell.
“Don’t be afraid, my precious,” a mother’s voice gently comforted. “Tomorrow morning, the sun will rise again. And it will be more beautiful than today’s.”
(End of Main Text)