Lin Yuchan determined her direction and hurried toward the riverbank.

“To the Clock Tower,” she thought.

The “Clock Tower” was separated from the Shamian Concession by just one bridge, a popular check-in spot for tourists in modern-day Guangzhou. In her previous life, Lin Yuchan’s school had even organized a patriotic education trip there.

Lin Yuchan remembered that in the photograph, the stone tablet behind her read: “National Key Cultural Relic Protection Unit—Former Site of the Guangdong Maritime Customs.”

She arrived at the same location from memory. Sure enough, a three-story Western-style building stood there. It was smaller than she remembered, and the clock had not yet been added.

The Qing Imperial Guangdong Maritime Customs. Present site.

Burning the indenture contract didn’t mean everything was settled. She had heard people say that wealthy households like the Qi family registered new additions to their population with the government every year. She had been sold for several months now, and didn’t know whether she had been “registered” or not.

Although the Qing government was bloated and idle, specializing in avoiding proper work, the so-called population registration might just be empty paperwork, but she dared not harbor any wishful thinking.

The Western building’s entrance bore no plaque, easily mistaken for some foreigner’s grand villa. Two upright guards stood at their posts.

“Go away, go away, girl, go away!” The guards wore queues but dressed in Western uniforms, feeling superior to others, shouting at her from afar, “No idle persons allowed. This is a government office, not a church!”

“I know, this is the Customs Office,” she quickly walked up the stone steps, “I’m looking for Deputy Chief Commissioner of Guangdong Maritime Customs, Mr. Hede.”

The guards couldn’t help but be startled. What ordinary person could recite such a long string of titles?

“That still won’t do. Chinese cannot enter casually.” The two guards dutifully performed their duties, both extending their hands to block her, their arms forming a right-angled cross, “Do you have an appointment card?”

Lin Yuchan was taken aback. Hede’s “modern customs” wasn’t just wishful thinking—his management concepts were quite advanced.

The customs weren’t Qing territory; even if Empress Dowager Cixi came, she’d have to register.

She hurriedly looked back. The Qi family servants had already caught up to the street corner, probably thinking she was trying to escape to the Shamian Concession.

The concession and Guangzhou City were separated by one bridge. The servants also knew that once someone entered the concession, they’d be hard to catch, so they quickened their pace, testing the edge of causing a public spectacle.

“Yes. I have an appointment,” Lin Yuchan said decisively, “I’m here to apply for a translator position.”

The guards looked at each other with confused expressions.

“A girl, applying for what?…”

Lin Yuchan took the opportunity to lift their arms and slipped inside.

This time, the guards said nothing.

Lin Yuchan discovered that in the Qing Dynasty, no matter what she did, as long as she showed enough confidence, people’s first reaction was to make way.

Conversely, when she was obedient and compliant, she was most easily bullied.

The customs building’s corridor was spacious and bright, the floor paved with reflective marble tiles, black and white alternating, like a Western chessboard. Rows of stone columns lined the edges of the chessboard in a neat array, casting shadows like knights and guards.

Large maps hung on the walls—Guangzhou, Hong Kong, Shanghai, Xiamen, Tianjin, Mumbai, Malacca, London, Hamburg…

Metal clocks ticked away, heavy wooden doors opened and closed, English nameplates nailed at the entrances, well-dressed foreigners inside chatting and laughing, and several bicycles were even parked around the corners.

Lin Yuchan suddenly felt a bit afraid to continue forward. The chessboard beneath her feet was bright as a mirror, reflecting countless small images of herself, filling her heart with a strange sense of fragmentation.

This place was like a time tunnel; compared to the Qing Dynasty outside, it seemed like two parallel worlds. If someone said this was a modern Sun Yat-sen University office building or some established foreign enterprise headquarters, there would be no flaws in that claim.

Until she saw a servant woman with a shiny hair bun, wearing a black cloth skirt, kneeling on the ground, wiping with a wet cloth the muddy footprints brought in by the foreigners’ leather boots. Her knees were bound with thick cloth padding, and protruding from her trouser legs were a pair of tiny pointed feet, only half the size of the bicycle pedals beside her.

Only then did Lin Yuchan confirm where she was, smiling bitterly to herself.

What was she thinking? It was impossible to travel back.

She followed the nameplates, searching along the way, suddenly looked up, and nearly collided head-on with someone.

Before the person in front could say anything, an attendant behind him angrily shouted: “Where did this little beggar come from? Which window did she climb through? Go away, go away! Don’t look for trouble here!”

Lin Yuchan looked up and curtsied slightly: “Mr. Hart.”

Hede held a stack of documents, the fountain pen between his fingers still uncapped. His suit was neat and sharp, his hard leather boots gleaming, like a king walking across the chessboard.

Having a strange little girl suddenly appear in his territory and charge straight at him, Hede instinctively stepped back two paces, his face full of astonishment.

His attendant behind him still held a hat with insignia, ready to bring it out to slap faces whenever his master was looked down upon.

However, this time, Hede recognized her immediately, raised a hand, and stopped his attendant’s clamor.

“Miss Lin.” He obviously had a good impression of her, the corners of his mouth lifting, but immediately put on a stern face, “Did Manager Wang from Defeng Trading send you? This official has already heard about your shop’s affairs and deeply regrets Mr. Qi’s misfortune. However, I’m sorry, this is what you brought upon yourselves. New customs regulations—cross-border labor isn’t impossible, but requires approval and taxation, following proper procedures…”

Indeed, among the content of that series of unequal treaties in the late Qing, there were provisions for arranging “Chinese workers to go abroad,” sending them to foreign countries. These legal laborers, though also extremely exploited, at least had their homeland backing them. Although this homeland wasn’t very reliable, it had established diplomatic relations with the great powers, and when oppressed too severely, it would occasionally voice weak protests.

Smuggled workers were different. Not only was it abusing citizens and losing population, but it was also egregious tax evasion. Not only did the Qing court deeply detest this, but the great powers like Britain and America—especially those experiencing domestic abolitionist movements—couldn’t bring themselves to openly support it, or they’d lose many votes.

Hede’s attitude on this was resolute, his green eyes full of disgust.

“What you people did was human trafficking, subject to enormous fines, and no amount of pleading will help. Go back and tell Manager Wang to wait for my penalty notice and start raising money.”

Defeng Trading was now facing a pile-on situation. Lin Yuchan felt delighted inside but dared not show too much happiness.

“I’m not here to plead. I suggest you fine them severely, as a warning to others.” She spoke directly in English, “Are you still hiring translators?”

Working for foreigners wasn’t a glorious profession. She had previously thought that unless it was a matter of life and death, she wouldn’t take this crooked path.

Now it seemed her flag had been planted too high; when it came crashing down, there was nowhere to hide.

Hede was surprised, then smiled and shook his head, clasping his hands behind his back.

“I’ve already found a suitable candidate. You’re one step too late, clever miss.”

When he said this, he even looked somewhat smug, as if saying: Look what happens when you refuse my offer, now you regret it!

Lin Yuchan felt like laughing. Financier Hede was ultimately young and impetuous—how could he pull the “today you ignore me, tomorrow I’ll make you unable to reach me” routine with a little servant girl? Wasn’t that a role reversal?

She said, “I can do better than him. Would you mind interviewing me again?”

This time, Hede looked at her seriously. The cunning little servant girl had eyes that sparkled with cleverness unsuited to her status, like a delicate little wildflower. That seemingly sincere little mouth always spoke shocking words. He had never seen such a bold and reckless girl.

Neither in China nor in Britain.

He suddenly asked, “Are you married?”

Lin Yuchan: “…”

Was this the first interview question?

She shook her head. “Why?”

“Sorry. The customs can employ Chinese women, but they must be married. Self-combing women won’t work either.” Hede’s face showed no emotion as he lowered his head to adjust his cufflinks. “It’s a new regulation from your government. I’m just following local customs, don’t take offense.”

Lin Yuchan found it absurd. Did the government have time to manage this?

The high officials and nobles had always felt that foreigners were morally corrupting. If unmarried girls ran to places where foreigners gathered, they might be led astray. If they were then taken as concubines by foreign devils and bore children, that would be an absolute disgrace, damaging national dignity. If all women followed suit, wouldn’t the Chinese people face national extinction?

Last year, the French consul in Xiamen boldly tried something new, buying a local concubine with two-inch-two feet, from a good family no less. The news spread explosively, and a crowd of Guangdong gentlemen beat their chests and stamped their feet, crying shame, wishing they could conduct cross-provincial arrests and chop up that Fujian woman who sold out her country for glory and boil her into soup. This hastily prompted new regulations, firmly preventing any contact between foreigners and women from good families.

But some rough work, like cleaning and cooking still required of women. So they stipulated that only married women could do it, since they had husbands at home to control them, preventing them from being corrupted by foreigners.

Hede raised his voice: “Guards, show her out.”

His face was angular and sharp-featured; just standing there casually, he looked like a Western portrait painting, making people feel intimidated and reluctant to contradict him.

The guards didn’t respond. Vague arguing could be heard from the main entrance.

“Our master’s people… escaped slave… disturbing the official… trouble is, please search, it’s a servant girl…”

It was the Qi family servants looking for someone. They also knew not to be presumptuous at the foreigners’ door, speaking quite politely.

Lin Yuchan stared into Hede’s jade-green eyes and said softly, “The Defeng Trading people want to kill me. If I leave this door, I’ll have no way to live.”

Hede gave a cold laugh, pushed past her shoulder to leave, feeling somewhat disappointed.

Chinese people were indeed cunning, willing to perform any act to pay a little less in fines.

Lin Yuchan stepped back, blocked his path, and gently pulled open her front garment by an inch.

At a glance, Hede’s expression changed slightly, and he steadied himself against his attendant’s hand: “Oh God.”

The little servant wore an ill-fitting, oversized garment. On the inner clothing that had been concealed, there were clearly visible large bloodstains.

It wasn’t her blood, but all Su Minguan’s. Having congealed overnight, it had darkened.

But it was genuinely human blood after all. Acting couldn’t reach this level.

The Western portrait painting’s expression couldn’t hold. Hede unconsciously grabbed at his red hair.

It was common for Chinese people who had committed crimes to run to foreign territory seeking sanctuary. And whether foreigners would play the savior depended entirely on their mood.

Binding someone and handing them over to the authorities was “respecting Qing law, practicing the rule of law”; protecting someone was “promoting humanitarianism, refusing to compromise with a barbaric government.”

Either way, foreigners were in the right; however, they handled it, they could win unanimous praise from their compatriots.

But Hede knew he wasn’t an ordinary foreigner. He wasn’t a merchant, military officer, or consulate worker, but an employee of the Qing government. The red cap constantly reminded him of this.

He remembered the “follow local customs” discipline he had set for himself, closed his eyes slightly, and coughed with difficulty.

“Let’s go out together. I, I think I can speak for you…”

Lin Yuchan remained unmoved, asking calmly, “What do I need to do for you to help me?”

Hede felt he had seen much of the world, yet now he somewhat dared not look at the blood on her body.

Obviously, she had come seeking help, yet she neither knelt and kowtowed nor wept bitterly, just looked at him without servility or arrogance, giving him a strange feeling: as if he owed her a debt, and pulling her up was purely what he should do.

The arguing outside continued. Hede felt irritated and ruffled his hair, saying, “Go to my reception room, there’s a tea pantry there. Find some servant’s clothes to change into, don’t chat with others. You can stay there for one day. Tomorrow I’m going out on official business, and you must leave then.”

Lin Yuchan pressed her lips together, bowed to Hede, and hurried away.

Having one day’s buffer time was good. She had destroyed the indenture contract, and the Qi family was in chaos themselves—they might retreat when faced with difficulties.

She followed the wooden plaques at the entrances to find the “reception room.” Inside, there was indeed a tea pantry, with several sets of clean clothes folded in the cabinet.

There was also a plate of butter cookies, probably prepared to serve guests. Lin Yuchan grabbed two without hesitation, stuffed them in her mouth, then neatly arranged the remaining cookies.

She hadn’t eaten for half a day and was starving. Moreover, taking every opportunity to replenish her energy had become her instinct.

It probably wouldn’t be discovered… right?

She quickly finished changing clothes, then heard the reception room door open as several people entered, probably waiting for meetings.

Someone relaxed and chatted, roughly calling out in English: “A pot of black tea, double milk and sugar—hey, servant girl, hurry up!”

The servant girl was still outside wiping shoe prints. Lin Yuchan dared not make a sound.

The person was impatient and, seeing no response after waiting, came to open the tea pantry door himself, muttering: “Having to do this kind of thing personally, how is this customs run, nothing like the one in Hong Kong…”

The tea pantry was six feet wide, and Lin Yuchan had nowhere else to hide, so she could only mumble: “Black tea coming right up!”

Even when fleeing for her life, she had to guest-star as a servant to avoid being discovered as not belonging here.

Fortunately, having observed at Defeng Trading for so long, she was familiar with the brewing steps for foreign black tea. She managed to brew a pot somewhat adequately. Not knowing where the milk and sugar were, she decided not to fumble around.

She opened the door as low-key as possible, carried the tea tray low-key, and kept her head down as she served it.

Clang!

Her shoulder suddenly hurt. A foreigner in the reception room looked her over, then suddenly rushed over and wrestled her to the ground without asking questions.

A pot of black tea shattered on the floor, tea leaves scattered everywhere, fragrant steam rising.

Even though Hede had warned “don’t speak to strangers,” Lin Yuchan had no choice but to cry out: “Let me go! I—I don’t know you! I’m a servant girl here…”

Several foreigners laughed heartily: “She says she doesn’t know us.”

Lin Yuchan fell dazed and confused, propped herself up, and opened her eyes to see several pairs of large leather boots on the ground.

Looking up, several burly, sailor-dressed foreigners were glaring at her viciously.

One of them had an ornate pistol tucked in his belt. The silhouette of that pistol seemed familiar to her.

“God bless, let this savage Chinese child get her lesson.” A foreign officer sneered, kicking sharp teapot shards toward her, “Where is that ‘shrimp cracker’ who can shoot? I want to wring his neck!”

What a small world indeed.