Lin Yuchan had never heard Su Minguan mention this place before. She supposed that by the time she met him, this garden had long been dismantled completely, its materials sold off piecemeal, no longer retaining its former glory. Besides, given his temperament, he wouldn’t dwell on it nostalgically.
She gently shook his arm, quietly asking for his opinion: “Should we buy a few tickets?”
This was a private museum, with regular admission at forty yuan per person. She had always considered it too expensive and had never visited before.
But this time she definitely couldn’t miss it. If he was unwilling, then so be it.
Su Minguan gave an extremely subtle cold smile and put his arm around her shoulders.
“What’s there to be embarrassed about? I’ll go see how well that opera stage has been preserved.”
She smiled and told the ticket office: “One student, one adult.”
Sixty yuan was a huge sum—they’d better get their money’s worth.
According to Su Minguan, the museum’s grounds were only a very small part of the original Su family garden. But when Lin Yuchan looked around, she saw azure waters flowing in circles, lush flowers and trees, stretching endlessly beyond sight.
The opera stage faced the water, with lotus flowers planted throughout the pond. The pavilions, towers, bridges, and gazebos were subtle and elegant, every brick and stone exquisitely beautiful. Lychee trees cast shadows over rockeries with Jiangnan charm, pale pink clematis covered the sky like a canopy, and bright red cherry leaves adorned the azure stone walls. In the cave walls of the garden’s winding corridors and paths, countless famous stone carvings could be faintly seen.
It was the hot season, and mist rose from the lotus pond. Above the pond was a misty, ethereal beauty, with dragonflies and butterflies fluttering about like a mirage.
Lin Yuchan sighed softly. Even without the museum, just appreciating the garden alone made the ticket price truly worthwhile.
Even this small corner revealed the Su family’s former state of hosting countless guests and overwhelming wealth—not just wealth, but an elegance that money couldn’t buy. In comparison, the magnificent Qi family garden she had visited seemed like a rural nouveau riche villa.
Now it was a downtown attraction offering tranquility amid the bustle, but over a century ago, this area was surrounded by farmland and flowing water. From the embroidered tower, one could see Shamian Island at a glance—a stretch of rural scenery, yet hidden within the city, truly a place of excellent feng shui.
She couldn’t help asking: “Which room did you live in before? Is it still here?”
Su Minguan smiled without speaking, interlacing his fingers with hers and slowly leading her through the interconnected corridors. His gaze flowed downward, as if picking up fragments of bygone days scattered on the blue brick ground.
“The family kept a top-notch opera troupe that would perform here during festivals and holidays. Sometimes when distinguished guests came—imperial merchants, foreign merchants, and others—they would sing continuously for an entire day.” He gazed at the opera building and said in a low voice, “Those were my favorite days because I could have a day off from studying. The operas the adults requested were long and tedious with their singing, and I couldn’t really understand them, so I would sneak away to the garden during the commotion. Back then, Guangdong people were practical—the courtyard wasn’t planted with exotic flowers and rare plants, but with lychees, bananas, wampee, oranges, pomelos, longans… Various fruits were ripening in every season. Normally, the family didn’t allow much raw fruit eating, fearing it was too cooling, so I would eat until drunk there and sleep beside that little flower niche by the wall. The next day, I’d inevitably get a beating. But remembering that belly full of raw fruit made me happy again.”
Lin Yuchan pulled him to sit on a stone bench, rummaging through her bag for mosquito repellent flower water, carefully applying it to his arms and calves, then to herself. They both immediately carried the same icy lotus fragrance.
She laughed: “When you were stealing fruit, you forgot about repelling mosquitoes, right?”
“Exactly,” Su Minguan sighed. “By the next day, I was already swollen with mosquito bites, painful and itchy. Getting beaten then was pure agony.”
She felt sorry for him and asked, “Did you get beaten often?”
“Not really.” Su Minguan smiled. “I was quite clever—I wasn’t caught every time.”
He pointed toward the wall at the end of the corridor in another direction and told her, “The master was determined to have me study for the imperial examinations and didn’t specifically train me for business. When I got bored studying, I would hide behind that wall. Outside the wall was originally Shuzhu Creek, where people would often sell river delicacies along the bridge—purple crabs, red shrimp, white eels, everything. I would lean against the wall and listen to them haggling penny by penny—that was my earliest contact with merchants. During the winter solstice, someone would sell sashimi by Shuzhu Bridge, caught fresh, blood drained immediately, sliced on the spot. I would bargain with them through the wall, negotiating the condiments, then use a rope to lower a cloth bag with copper coins over the wall. In no time, someone would wrap up the sashimi with garlic slices, ginger strips, scallion whites, lemongrass, all mixed and tossed back… Tsk, it was much more wonderful than the properly plated ‘chrysanthemum sashimi’ on the dining table, though I don’t know why… Sigh, I never even saw the person who cut the fish.”
Lin Yuchan leaned against him, made hungry by his description.
He had spent his childhood in this Grand View Garden-like mansion, yet his deepest memories weren’t of the delicacies he’d eaten, nor the priceless utensils and implements in the rooms, nor any details of luxury and fine clothing, but rather the most ordinary childhood adventures that every child experiences.
So… when he lost that overwhelming wealth, he didn’t suffer the huge psychological gap that adults would. He could quickly dust off his wounds and stand up again.
She asked with fascination: “What happened next?”
Su Minguan smiled quietly: “Later, one day, I caught a chill while sleeping and got diarrhea. The wet nurse, afraid of taking responsibility, encouraged me to tell the doctor it was because I ate stale fish. I was naive then and felt so miserable from illness that I repeated what she said. Later, I heard by the wall that the vendor had been arrested by soldiers, and from then on, that spot by the wall was silent day and night—I never heard his voice again.”
Lin Yuchan fell silent, turning to look at the wall covered with flowering vines.
She asked no more. Continuing would only reveal more unseemly affairs of wealthy families.
Suddenly, Su Minguan caught sight of something from the corner of his eye, stood up, and hurried through a moon gate, looking at a sprawling building complex in the open space with a mixture of crying and laughing.
“Who rebuilt this…”
This was a combination ticket attraction, with a sign reading “Su Family Ancestral Hall.”
Su Minguan was completely devastated: “It was already in ruins, sold off in a dozen pieces, with the bricks and tiles all taken by people to build civilian houses!”
“It’s been restored.”
Lin Yuchan was both surprised and amused, reading the attraction introduction carefully.
Built during the Qing Daoguang period… for enshrining ancestral tablets, worshipping ancestors, and serving as the family school… Its unique wood carving craftsmanship represents the culmination of Lingnan architectural art through the ages… Listed as a national key cultural relic protection unit in 19xx, comprehensively renovated and opened in 200x, collecting scattered wood carvings from among the people, hiring expert consultants, restoring and renovating…”
Su Minguan looked up, quietly sighing in relief. It seemed this ancestral hall was protected and restored because of some “wood carving art,” not because someone wanted to summon his ancestors’ spirits.
However, to show respect for the original owners, the ancestral hall was restored to its original appearance according to old photographs, with densely packed ancestral tablets arranged in the center. Of course, there were no incense burners or paper money—it served only as a folk display.
Su Minguan greeted his long-separated ancestors with a polite smile.
The renovated tablets stared back at him with wide eyes.
Several display boards were erected on both sides of the building, seriously introducing the origins of the Meizhou Su clan and the family history of this merchant leader of Guangzhou’s Thirteen Hongs.
Someone had done research claiming that this wealthy Su merchant family had been scholarly for generations, valuing righteousness over wealth, charitable and hospitable, generous to the community… essentially a standard “local worthy.”
Su Minguan smiled coldly and read on quickly.
But there wasn’t much usable material, so the display boards were filled with many irrelevant photos: the old appearance of Guangzhou’s Thirteen Hongs, the old customs house, Qing dynasty merchant ships, dock workers, even bound-footed women from unknown families…
Lin Yuchan counted the names of his elders and ancestors, comparing them with the display boards, and asked with a laugh: “Are you descendants of Su Dongpo?”
“Paid someone to make that up,” Su Minguan admitted frankly. “Probably pirates.”
She laughed heartily.
Several visiting tourists looked at him sideways, probably wondering where this know-it-all came from.
The densely packed tablets ended with Su Minguan’s father’s generation. The display board briefly introduced that after the Su family’s decline, descendants scattered and later crossed the ocean to become overseas Chinese leaders, actively participating in national revolutionary struggles and making indelible contributions to establishing the republic…
Below this display board was a blurry black and white photograph of the first plenary session delegates of China’s New Political Consultative Conference. A dense crowd of people.
Several nearby tourists commented: “I see. So they were the founding fathers—no wonder the government funded restoring their ancestral hall.”
Someone laughed: “Restoring ancestral halls for revolutionary predecessors sounds strange, though.”
Su Minguan glanced away, then couldn’t resist the temptation of spoilers and secretly, quickly scanned the photograph.
Then he moved closer, carefully identifying each person in the photo, whether in their prime or white-haired, sighed in relief, and whispered to Lin Yuchan: “Wrong photo. I’m not in it.”
Lin Yuchan pointed to the photo date “1949” at the bottom and laughed back: “It would be strange if you were.”
Su Minguan noticed one person: “This old lady looks quite spirited. Like you.”
Lin Yuchan nearly burst with laughter, pulling him to run out of this bizarre ancestral hall.
“I’m not that mischievous!”
This exhibition was truly too perfunctory—if they couldn’t find enough material, they shouldn’t have written anything. What was the point of dragging Lin Youhua into making up numbers?
To see Su Minguan’s real biographical deeds, they’d probably have to visit the dusty archives of some current democratic party.
They say wild geese leave cries behind, people leave names behind. But, as long as a person strives hard enough, is fearless enough, and has strong enough convictions, they can always leave various traces in history. And his honored name was just the most insignificant among those many “traces.”
Su Minguan cared least about this. He was even somewhat annoyed that “his family’s ancestral hall was restored by others and his ancestors were praised as local worthies,” feeling the sixty yuan was wasted.
“The Qing dynasty is already dead—what’s the point of restoring some ghost ancestral hall?”
Lin Yuchan told him not to mind these things: “It’s mainly because your family’s wood carving art was too outstanding.”
He pursed his lips, pretending not to see her raising her phone to take his picture.
As evening approached, the two left the Su family garden and walked along the river looking for food.
Su Minguan’s nose remained overly sensitive. Walking down the riverside road, most small restaurants didn’t catch his eye.
“This one uses too much MSG,” he commented expertly. “This one’s oil smells strange. This one’s meat has additives…”
Lin Yuchan only smelled various delicious aromas and wasn’t suspicious, thinking he might be talking nonsense.
Until a girl beside them loudly agreed, complaining to her husband: “I told you so! This place’s meat is frozen, then thawed—it smells wrong! Makes me nauseous! You never believe me!”
Lin Yuchan was surprised and turned to look—wearing radiation-proof clothing, she was pregnant.
She laughed—the young master’s nose had become quite refined.
Fortunately, after mixing in modern Guangzhou for several days, he wasn’t as picky as at first. Finally they found a riverside snail and chicken hotpot restaurant. Certified by the ancient Qing gentleman, the chicken tasted like chicken, the snails like snails—good value for money. He even wanted to find the owner to ask if they accepted investment to open branch locations, then remembered his current financial constraints.
He was slightly dejected. Clothing, food, housing, transportation—all paid for by his girlfriend. Though he knew she didn’t mind, she wasn’t wealthy either now.
These past few days, whenever he went out shopping, he could always find ways to make money. After studying modern law, he adjusted his mindset and gradually discovered quite a few legal business opportunities. Though getting rich overnight was difficult, if he proceeded steadily, it wouldn’t be hard to establish himself in society.
But his weakness lay in his vastly different upbringing—he didn’t understand many operational principles and psychological patterns of modern society. Those “business opportunities” he discovered, though all wildly imaginative, were mostly immediately spotted by Lin Yuchan for common-sense flaws when he discussed them with her.
She ordered two cans of beer and advised him not to rush. First be content as an observer, keep a low profile, and complete his basic knowledge foundation.
“Our school library has very comprehensive books, you can learn whatever you want…”
She opened her phone to access the campus network and discovered that their school library wasn’t open to the general public.
Lin Yuchan was disappointed: “That’s unreasonable.”
Su Minguan smiled consolingly: “You can borrow them for me to read.”
Halfway through the meal, street lights came on and the riverside was brilliantly illuminated.
Su Minguan, being new here, still kept Qing dynasty schedules—waking promptly at 5:30 and getting sleepy when dark fell. Recently, he’d finally adjusted to some “jet lag,” so Lin Yuchan decided to give him a taste of Guangzhou nightlife.
This was his first time viewing night scenery outside, seeing the bright lights illuminating the broad riverside walkway and boats coming and going on the river, and he suddenly felt somewhat melancholy.
He sighed very softly and said in a low voice: “If only my mother could have lived to see today.”
Lin Yuchan didn’t hear clearly: “What? Who?”
He smiled down without saying anything, standing side by side with her, their arms touching, gently brushing against each other.
“A’Mei, look,” he suddenly discovered with surprise again, “those lit-up boats aren’t ferries.”
In the past, boats on the Pearl River were either merchant vessels or ferries. Now these colorful small ships had advertising lights on their hulls, going back and forth several times, stopping at only one dock without unloading cargo. Besides, there were bridges for crossing the river—no need for water routes.
These were sightseeing boats.
Pale clouds remained in the sky. Lin Yuchan’s heart stirred: “After we finish eating, I’ll take you on a boat ride.”
Su Minguan felt tempted but acted disdainful on the surface: “Such a small boat—how fast can it go?”
Lin Yuchan secretly smiled and took out her phone to book tickets.
Then she led him across the bridge to Tianzi Wharf.
Su Minguan immediately recognized the place and smiled: “What, still want to stow away to Shanghai?”
This was the same wharf where she had originally boarded Hede’s official ship from Guangzhou to Shanghai. On that ship, the two had sailed together toward unknown destinies.
And now, this wharf had only one purpose—
“Pearl River Night Cruise.”
Lin Yuchan smiled slightly, pulling his ID card from his pocket and swiping it as they walked under the flashing neon sign.