In 1856, British forces bombarded Guangzhou City. Angry citizens burned down the Thirteenth Hong, and the former brocade-like prosperity was completely reduced to ashes.

On the site of the old trading post area stood a small “Thirteenth Hong Museum.” Phoenix flowers bloomed red as fire, forming a canopy overhead.

When Su Minguan saw the sign and learned what a “museum” was, he immediately insisted on going, completely forgetting about buying clothes.

Lin Yuchan followed him.

A pair of “Republican-era couple” went to the window to get tickets, and the staff behind were surprised for several seconds.

However, today’s young people have personality—those wearing hanfu to visit museums were everywhere, some even deliberately choosing clothes from eras close to the exhibits. When photographed, people became like artifacts, achieving unity between person and exhibition, very attractive for generating traffic.

The staff member adjusted his glasses and smiled: “Handsome guy, where did you buy that shirt? The restoration is excellent.”

The museum was small, containing some historical display boards introducing the former appearance of the Thirteenth Hong and China’s modern foreign trade. Su Minguan wasn’t yet accustomed to left-to-right text layout and felt dizzy reading, so he focused on studying the pictures.

The few tourists in the museum whispered among themselves about their figures, speculating they were internet celebrities making a program.

“Where’s the team? Where are the cameras…”

The second floor housed some Qing Dynasty Guangzhou export crafts: Guangzhou porcelain, Guangzhou embroidery, ivory objects, export fans, wooden furniture, enamelware, lacquerware, and so on. Su Minguan just took a cursory glance and went down from the other side.

Lin Yuchan knew in her heart—these were far inferior to what he had seen in his childhood.

The museum was specialized and didn’t have detailed chronological records. Su Minguan silently digested those fragmentary pieces of information without saying much.

Outside the museum was a small park. Children played and laughed in the playground while elderly people sat in the shade, fanning themselves.

Su Minguan wasn’t particularly interested in the precious objects in the museum, but stared at this ordinary daily scene for a long time.

He asked softly: “How long has it been since there was war?”

Lin Yuchan was stunned.

In the old society, this question was easy to answer. Five years, ten years… there were always those vivid memories of military disasters, whether from foreigners or bandits, firmly embedded in everyone’s life memories.

She mentally calculated 2021 minus 1949, then wasn’t sure. What year was Guangzhou liberated again…

After liberation? It seemed no one had ever “counterattacked” here… After the reform and opening up, there were motorcycle gangs snatching bags and such, but that was all before she was born.

Seeing that she didn’t answer immediately, Su Minguan already knew the general answer.

He didn’t quite believe it and asked again: “Is it just Guangzhou like this, or are all provinces like this?”

This time Lin Yuchan answered readily: “Throughout the entire country, only very elderly people remember what war looks like.”

He suddenly asked: “Then there’s no more Hongmen Heaven and Earth Society?”

Lin Yuchan smiled: “The original one? In movies, novels, and all kinds of legends exist.”

Products of chaotic times were destined to remain in chaotic times. In today’s society, where was there any scenario of “starve to death if you don’t rebel”—when poor to a certain extent, poverty alleviation cadres would come knocking on your door, forcing you to raise pigs and ducks, to become rich through hard work…

At the intersection, the red light turned green. Su Minguan tensed his face and quickly pulled Lin Yuchan to the roadside.

He remained very alert along the way. Seeing cars and electric vehicles approaching from afar, he would instinctively protect Lin Yuchan. Even when she repeatedly explained that these vehicles would properly stay in their lanes and wouldn’t drive recklessly.

He didn’t believe it: “Cars go so fast, crushing a person would be easy, then speeding away afterward—no one could find them.”

Lin Yuchan couldn’t help but smile, pointing above his head.

“Sky Eye,” a name easy for ancient people to understand, “everything below has nowhere to hide. Every car has a license plate, they can’t escape even to the ends of the earth.”

After she explained the camera principle, he suddenly blushed and quickly let go of her hand.

Lin Yuchan laughingly put her arm around his waist: “No one cares about this! And no one constantly spies on you. Only when investigating criminal clues will specialists go back and examine these recorded images as evidence for the court.”

He reluctantly believed her, but wariness still flickered in his eyes.

Having lived in the Qing Dynasty for over twenty years, he had long learned to rely entirely on himself, unable to depend on any law or justice.

But looking at her appearance, she was completely relaxed while talking and laughing. Though still the familiar face and features, unlike the past, every strand of her hair seemed filled with a sense of security.

Fortunately, the Thirteenth Hong wholesale market was nearby. This was an entire large clothing commercial district that, in principle, only did large-volume wholesale, selling quality, affordable clothes nationwide. Lin Yuchan had worked part-time in high school and once tried to apply as a stall assistant. Though it ultimately didn’t work out, she already had a basic understanding of this market: every summer, various stalls began seasonal clearance, merchants eager to dispose of remaining stock. For just a few extra yuan, one could also purchase small quantities, even retail.

The busy stalls were crowded with people, and time seemed to flow twice as fast inside the entire building. Outside each stall hung inventory lists, while packaging guys and sales girls worked like whirlwinds, constantly shouting:

“Minimum three pieces!”

“No single-piece dropshipping!”

“No bargaining!”

…

On the other side of the building, countless logistics personnel continuously packed and shipped goods. Wholesale buyers pulled small carts, eyes quickly scanning, striking immediately once they spotted something. Meanwhile, the few tourists who came to watch the excitement and try to find bargains were first stunned by a barrage of technical terms as soon as they opened their mouths, and just as they wanted to examine the clothing styles, materials, and designs, they were impatiently shooed away by bosses.

The merchants were all busy with their heads down; no one noticed Su Minguan’s unusual dress.

Lin Yuchan looked back at Su Minguan with a challenging look: Do you dare try?

He warily surveyed the surroundings, smiled slightly, stepped on the cardboard boxes and tape on the floor, and walked confidently into the crowd.

Just an upgraded version of a busy seasonal cargo dock. He wasn’t afraid of this.

“What’s the wholesale price? Can you issue an invoice for three pieces? Good, one of each color… This one’s clearance? Just take one. Add ten yuan to take it away, thank you…”

Lin Yuchan went straight to the men’s section, imitating the tone of bulk buyers and quickly shopping.

The boyfriend she’d picked up had nothing, and Lin Yuchan calculated that to maintain a good personal image in midsummer Guangzhou, he needed at least a week’s worth of clean clothes. In the 19th century, without air conditioning or electric fans, his wardrobe was always packed full, enough for him to change three times a day, staying fresh and clean at all times.

She definitely wouldn’t dress him in those cheap trending items—that would be wasteful. Lin Yuchan chose mid-to-high-end basics. What sold for a hundred yuan at Thirteenth Hong might cost several hundred to over a thousand yuan after multiple transfers to big shopping malls. As a university student living entirely on scholarships and grants, only here could she confidently shop freely.

She hugged a bundle of shirts and pants, then turned to look—with a start, Su Minguan had disappeared.

“A’Mei.”

He was just two stalls away; there were too many people to spot him.

This person, arriving at a wholesale and retail distribution center, quickly adapted like a fish to water, figured out the basic rules, and began picking clothes for himself. While selecting goods, he also chatted with sellers. Strangely, wholesale merchants who usually disdained retail customers suddenly showed doubled patience when they met him. Their keen business sense detected that this person was also in the trade, so half out of courtesy and half to cultivate connections, they conversed with him enthusiastically.

Of course, Su Minguan didn’t waste their time either. In just a few exchanges, goods were packaged, and he’d gathered most of the stall’s information.

“…Wait,” Lin Yuchan stared in amazement, “you used wholesale pricing to buy one of each??”

“Wholesale pricing” refers to prices for ten or more pieces. Usually, only long-term cooperative regular customers can get it.

Su Minguan winked at her, patted the boss’s shoulder, exchanged a few jokes, and walked confidently toward her.

Lin Yuchan was both surprised and delighted, about to ask him for tips, when she saw the several pieces of “National Trend Retro Cotton-Linen Chinese Style Tang Suit for Men” in his hands and didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“Wait, this is designed for middle-aged and elderly men…”

Su Minguan was slightly stunned. This was the only thing in the entire venue he found somewhat familiar…

Lin Yuchan generously paid: “It’s fine. Boss Su, congratulations on your successful opening.”

He pursed his lips, took those clothes, exchanged a few more words with the boss, and easily returned those “middle-aged and elderly Tang suits.”

It was the 21st century after all; he had to keep up with the times. If A’Mei said it was old-fashioned, then it was old-fashioned—he didn’t question it.

Focusing on following her, he quietly asked: “That person said he wanted to ‘launch my career,’ eight thousand a month. What does that mean?”

So the boss had taken a liking to him. Recently, Thirteenth Hong wholesale merchants kept up with the times, not only doing offline business but also venturing into online sales, using live streaming to save intermediate steps and costs.

Lin Yuchan said without thinking: “Have you worn their clothes and live-stream product sales. Don’t sign. Your image rights are valuable.”

With that face, he could debut directly on screen. Being a “middle-aged and elderly Tang suit live streaming host”…

This store’s sales would probably skyrocket to first place in Thirteenth Hong.

Su Minguan immediately laughed too: “Keep all the money earned regardless of amount, give me a bit of dead salary… tsk, indentured labor.”

Lin Yuchan gave him a thumbs-up. He saw through the essence of the influencer economy at a glance.

Even if he entered the live streaming industry, he’d be the boss of internet celebrities, not work for others.

She wasn’t a real wholesale customer and, after wandering for half an hour, had gotten enough clothes needed. Su Minguan, along the way, spotted several dresses for her. His aesthetic for women’s clothing was quite good—several dresses were popular Western fresh retro styles, with comfortable color combinations that would cost at least four figures when hung in high-end shopping centers.

Lin Yuchan mentally calculated expenses—over a dozen high-quality remaining stock items, total just over a thousand yuan, truly cabbage prices.

She suddenly remembered that day years ago when he took her to browse the pawn shop, picking up high-end custom clothing.

Back then, she was still in the early stages of entrepreneurship, miserably poor, heartbroken over thirty taels of silver for half a day.

Fortunes change. The only thing that remained the same was that she still had no money…

However, seeing him dressed in a light-colored polo shirt, casual wide trousers, and woven shoes, looking like a CEO on vacation, she felt that this money was so worth it!

Then she took him to the nearby supermarket. Su Minguan was interested in various food prices, so she had him stay and observe on the first floor while she went to the second floor to get several packs of men’s socks and underwear.

When Su Minguan saw her, he hesitated: “A’Mei, should I have agreed to that eight thousand a month job earlier?”

Lin Yuchan: “??”

He lowered his head, pointing at the bottom shelf.

“Salt this fine and white,” he said softly with emotion, “could buy six thousand jin.”

A pack of popular brand iodized edible sea salt, 500 grams, retail price 1.35 yuan—about the same price in supermarkets throughout Guangzhou.

However, in the Qing Dynasty over a century ago, salt was a precious commodity monopolized by salt merchants. The coarse salt with impurities that common people ate was still sold for fifty copper coins per jin. When “foreign medicine” tax revenue was insufficient, taxes were often added. As for this kind of pure white fine-textured salt, it was exclusively for high officials and nobles. Sometimes it could sell for nearly a hundred coins per jin, and one jin was only twelve liang.

Su Minguan roughly calculated that the money that could buy six thousand market jin of fine salt would have been worth at least four hundred taels of silver in the past.

The base salary he paid Yixing dock workers was three taels a month, including food and lodging, already considered middle-level in the industry. Rong Hong, working as a fourth-rank Jiangsu Provincial Alternate Prefect, had a monthly salary of 250 taels, which was generous treatment that Zeng Guofan had fought hard to secure for him. Hede managed countless daily affairs at customs with a monthly salary of 800 taels, and still had to pay for his attendants and advisors.

Su Minguan felt that the “middle-aged and elderly Tang suit” boss was simply a bodhisattva. Just changing a few clothes and taking a few photos, giving him four hundred taels a month—much more cost-effective than his own hard business work.

Hearing him calculate “six thousand jin of salt,” Lin Yuchan realized the problem and smiled helplessly.

“Now technology is advanced, various food products are abundant, ‘official salt’ is very cheap—you can’t compare with that.”

Su Minguan didn’t quite believe it and pointed out rice prices, vegetable prices, meat prices, egg prices, then quickly converted to silver taels…

Lin Yuchan shrugged: “Pork has been rising in price for several years. It was even cheaper when I was little. Any random dock worker could eat meat daily—this kind, some people buy to feed cats and dogs.”

Su Minguan frowned slightly, still not quite daring to believe.

In this society, everyone was a super-rich person, living affluent lives no less than foreign concession compradors.

Lin Yuchan sighed. To make him recognize the real purchasing power of eight thousand yuan, she had a flash of inspiration, quickly checked out, and brought him to the real estate agency next to the supermarket.

“Look. Housing prices in Yuexiu District.”

…

Ten minutes later, Su Minguan emerged dejectedly, muttering complaints.

“…Eight thousand yuan a month, can’t even buy a single room, tsk, really just dismissing beggars…”