“I’m not, I didn’t, young master, please listen to me, this Su… this Su, it… I didn’t mean to curse you, it’s just an expedient measure, just to get an identity at customs, they don’t hire unmarried women… yes, it was Hede’s idea, he said he didn’t mind, he arranged it all…”

Su Minguan squinted at her, his fingertips gently caressing the smooth wood of the crew bed post.

Wasn’t she still attached to remaining unmarried? Had she suddenly changed her mind?

Lin Yuchan lowered her voice, swearing and vowing, when she suddenly remembered something: “Oh yes! I even fooled a government officer—the one who took money for ransoming people. He recognized me, but saw I was widowed and thought you were dead! I even saw him draw an X on the wanted poster! Young master, I’ve rendered meritorious service…”

Su Minguan patiently listened to her rambling before slowly saying: “Is that so? There are so many people surnamed Su in the world, I thought you had such an unlucky husband’s family.”

Lin Yuchan: “…”

That was true! How had she confessed without being asked?

Su Minguan sighed deeply, set down his teacup, stood up, and looked at her tenderly.

He had grown a circle thinner, with fine new wounds scattered across his exposed arms and neck, stubble sprouting from his chin, and several long and short tears in his clothing, making him look quite disheveled. His voice was also more hoarse than usual, like a dissolute and unrestrained traveler.

But he was in good spirits, his face bearing rare color, and though his movements were slow, they remained powerful.

“Since A’Mei is so graciously insistent, then Su has no choice but to reluctantly marry you, lest you bear this false name in vain.” His tone was quite regretful as he said bashfully, “Sigh, I originally planned to stay single for life, but now I must break my vow…”

Lin Yuchan initially thought he was joking, but looking at those eyes that seemed tender as water yet didn’t quite seem so, she shivered all over and quickly stepped back: “No no no need, no need, it’s very troublesome—three matchmakers and six ceremonies, matching birth charts, hiring sedan chairs and masters of ceremony, renting clothes and setting off firecrackers, everything costs money. Oh yes, you’re legally dead right now, so we’d need to hire someone to call back your soul…”

The darker Su Minguan’s expression grew as he listened, until he finally couldn’t bear it anymore and cornered her against the wall in one step, covering that little mouth spouting bizarre theories.

Lin Yuchan: “Mmph…”

The little girl’s face was pointed and small, with rosy cheeks that he could cover with one hand, her black eyes blinking desperately with an aggrieved look of being at a loss for words.

A smile of unclear meaning crossed Su Minguan’s eyes as he suddenly pulled out a thin white foreign cloth napkin from under the egg tart, folded it cleverly a few times, bit out a loose thread with his teeth, wrapped it around, and tied it into a small clustered flower.

He lowered his eyelids and surveyed the top of her black little head, selected an auspicious spot, and carefully tied the napkin flower in her hair, knotting it firmly.

The young girl’s beautiful hair was soft yet resilient. She washed it frequently, so it felt a bit rough with a soapberry fragrance.

“Now that’s more like it,” Su Minguan said coolly. “No matter how much you dislike your deceased husband, you must keep up appearances. Understand?”

Seeing her dazed, the foreign cloth flower trembled gently, black and white contrasting in small, delicate beauty, adding three parts charm.

In these days on the ship, she had finally escaped the life of drudgery and had time to arrange her hair in a lively braid style, and seemed to have trimmed her eyebrows too, appearing clean and refined.

“By convention, it’s three years. But I can be merciful—twenty-five months will suffice. Ending mourning early would invite gossip. Oh.”

He spoke slowly, watching her tongue-tied, angry but not daring to speak appearance, the corners of his mouth curving in an almost-smile.

Satisfying. Gratifying.

Lin Yuchan touched her head, not believing he’d let her off so easily, asking in confusion: “Is there more?”

She vaguely realized this was also a warning—even in a progressive, cutting-edge place like customs, she couldn’t be too casual in appearance. A widow must look like a widow.

But she didn’t need to wear full mourning. A traditional virtuous widow in full mourning wouldn’t volunteer to work at customs, bringing shame to her family.

Su Minguan smiled: “This will do for now. If there are further instructions, I’ll notify you in dreams.”

This was her life-saving emergency measure, a matter of life and death—what couldn’t be done?

However, defeating the enemy cost her eight hundred while she killed a thousand—let’s see how she’d explain herself later.

He’d even been willing to cut off his queue, so naturally, he didn’t mind this kind of unlucky prank.

Just teasing her.

Of course, with his life currently at stake, he’d still put on a fake queue and worn a cap, looking human-like—the very image of feudal remnants.

“Where are my things?” the feudal remnant put on airs, saying in low tones: “Give them back.”

Lin Yuchan, seeing he was no longer fixated on the widow matter, breathed a sigh of relief and smiled: “You forgot to ask me for them.”

She reached behind her neck, carefully untied a section of red cord, and pulled out that gold-inlaid jade longevity lock from her collar.

She’d removed it when treating his wounds, then during the chaotic flight for her life, fearing poor care, had simply worn it herself.

This item clearly wasn’t cheap—if it hadn’t been damaged, it could probably buy a hundred servant girls like Lin Yuchan, and couldn’t be lost.

Now? Lin Yuchan wasn’t good at appraising luxury goods, but thought it could probably buy ten or twenty little girls… that should be enough.

She weighed the closeness of their relationship and boldly asked: “Is this something left by your family?”

Su Minguan didn’t speak, just nodded slightly in acknowledgment, but said no more, extending his hand to receive it.

The gold lock carried the little girl’s scent and body temperature, reminding him of the night he was shot.

He felt a bit embarrassed to wear it directly and held it in his hand for now, using his other hand to grab an egg tart and thrust it, steaming hot, to her lips: “Thank you.”

He wouldn’t take from her for nothing.

Lin Yuchan involuntarily opened her mouth to bite—crispy and fragrant, the taste lingering, as caramel and egg custard filling flowed into her mouth, burning her tongue.

She rarely ate such delicious food in the Qing Dynasty and momentarily short-circuited, actually reluctant to spit it out, sucking air while savoring it. Cook Sun’s skills were no joke. There was a reason Su Minguan had eaten these egg tarts for so long without getting tired of them.

Su Minguan expressionlessly watched her lick her lips.

Lin Yuchan now completely understood where all the missing ingredients had gone.

There was a big rat ready-made in this hold.

Only then did she remember to ask: “How are you here? Do others know?”

With an extra person in the hold, how did none of the crew report it?

“This ship has been moored at Tianzi Wharf for quite a while. I found an opportunity to sneak aboard the night before departure. The engine chief was a Heaven and Earth Society member who helped me out.” Su Minguan saw her confusion and said quietly: “This ship was rented by the court from a foreign company, then lent to customs. The people on board belong to several different offices and don’t know each other. I openly took a bunk and just slept to heal my wounds. Others assumed I was a passenger traveling on the ship. Even if someone found it strange, it’s better to avoid trouble—reporting me wouldn’t earn them extra pay.”

Lin Yuchan: “…”

The Qing government’s management was too chaotic!

So… he had essentially borrowed the foreigners’ ship, not only easily escaping Guangzhou City but also eating and drinking well while healing for over ten days with no one questioning him!

Lin Yuchan remembered her frantic running around Guangzhou City, the desperate feeling when rushing into customs, and her recent toil being ordered about by Hede, and couldn’t help feeling utterly furious.

Same escape route—how could he manage to escape with style, with skill, with such high technical content?

Thinking of that night at Haizhuang Temple, she asked: “Was the government pursuit afterward severe?”

He smiled and simply said, “Most people escaped successfully. Don’t worry.”

He wouldn’t discuss any more details, keeping silent as the grave.

But it wasn’t hard to imagine the brutal intensity of the subsequent battle.

His appearance was haggard, and he still moved with slight inconvenience, but his gaze remained rigorous and cold, like an evergreen tree that doesn’t wither in winter.

Knowledge is power, Lin Yuchan thought. Her crude homemade “saline solution” seemed to have been somewhat useful after all.

“Su Lin,” Cook Sun’s voice suddenly rang out above, startling her. “Are you alright? Why haven’t you come up yet? Are there rats?”

Each word penetrated the floorboards clearly, even with some echo. Lin Yuchan’s face suddenly grew hot.

Su Minguan suppressed a laugh, smoothed his long-unkempt, disheveled hair, and lowered his head to bite another egg tart.

The floorboard soundproofing was limited—these past ten-plus days, every loud call of “Su Lin” and “little widow” had been heard clearly by him.

That he could still calmly steal egg tarts without rising from his deathbed to settle accounts with her showed real talent.

If she hadn’t stumbled in here today herself, he might have lain in the hold until the Xinhai Revolution.

Lin Yuchan stood frozen for a moment, then called up: “There are rats, they ate your freshly baked egg tarts… I, I’m fighting them. Let me find a stick…”

Cook Sun breathed a sigh of relief and laughed: “I knew you were brave. Rats are hateful—don’t be soft-hearted!”

The sea wind was rising, and the ship swayed. Lin Yuchan climbed to the porthole to check the sky.

“The cook is suspicious. You’re not allowed to eat freely anymore,” she warned sternly, then suddenly remembering he was wounded and couldn’t be starved, mercifully added: “If you want to eat something, I can find opportunities to bring it down to you.”

“Char siu, rice rolls, hand-beaten fish balls, please.” The young master wasn’t polite with her, immediately ordering from the menu. “I’m sick of gnawing cheese every day.”

Lin Yuchan patiently explained: “The north doesn’t have these things.”

“The north… what north?” Su Minguan’s expression suddenly changed as he stood up, unreasonably shaking her shoulders, making the little white flower in her hair tremble. “Wait, how many days have I been here? Where is this ship going?”

“Ten vegetable steamed buns, four rice balls, please… oh no, thank you!”

The weather was growing cooler, and the local customs and practices on shore were completely different. Sometimes the buildings on shore were densely packed, appearing quite prosperous. But looking closer, many buildings were empty, with layers of government notices pasted on walls—mostly conscription, grain requisition, bandit suppression, prohibitions against leaving home to flee…

Some places even had crooked cross shapes remaining on building walls—places that had been occupied by the Taiping Army. But that wall surface had immediately been scraped off, splashed with lime, and covered with densely packed Taiping bandit wanted posters.

The fires of the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom movement had not yet died, and the embers had burned away the wealth of the land of fish and rice.

Eager vendors crowded around every moored ship, using every means to hawk local specialties to foreign masters.

Lin Yuchan took advantage of shore time to hurriedly buy food outside the wharf, mourning her dwindling temporary worker wages.

But thinking again, Su Minguan had messed up big this time, and she gloated, her mouth carrying a smile.

When he first escaped onto this ship, he was half-dead, unconscious for who knew how long, losing his sense of time.

Calculating now, he’d been unconscious for a full four or five days, when they’d already left Guangdong long ago.

He couldn’t chat with people on the ship either, thinking this was just some official’s pleasure cruise vessel, always circling the Pearl River basin!

The resourceful, invincible new helmsman of the Heaven and Earth Society’s Guangdong branch had inadvertently left home and homeland, smuggling himself across half of China in one go.

…

Dawn, when everyone on the steamship was fast asleep, two duty crew members dozed on deck. Lin Yuchan put on thick clothes, pocketed the day’s supplies, quietly got up, and tiptoed around several snoring female workers in her shared quarters.

She couldn’t casually visit the lower crew quarters anymore, but she’d discovered a small corner in the engine tool room, separated from the lower hold by just one floor, and it even had a small ventilation opening. She could lie here and have an hour each day to say a few words to Su Minguan and pass down some food.

The picky young master was never satisfied.

“Where’s the filling?” he protested weakly from below the floorboard. “Where’s the filling in the vegetable buns?”

Lin Yuchan was quite rude: “Wait until I get rich, then I’ll treat you to good food.”

She was taking customs’ minimum wage, tight on funds herself, now having to support two people—of course, she bought whatever was cheapest. He should be grateful just to fill his stomach.

Su Minguan had to swallow his anger and gnaw on that coarse corn flour. To distract himself, he asked:

“Confess now. How did you get mixed up in this? Why did the Qi family let you go?”

It had only been a few days, but when Lin Yuchan explained in detail, it felt like half a century had passed.

Su Minguan remained silent throughout, and Lin Yuchan thought he’d fallen asleep.

She carefully got up to leave when suddenly there was a soft sound from below the floorboard.

“The Qi manor was burned down?” Su Minguan’s voice suddenly rang out, carrying some amusement.

She “mm-hmmed,” needing no embellishment in her description.

“Your indenture contract was burned, too?”

“Mm.”

“You ran to customs yourself?”

“Mm.”

“The foreigners fell for your tricks?”

Lin Yuchan thought this wasn’t accurate—she’d earned the job opportunity through her abilities.

But recalling the process, there were indeed elements of bluffing. No time to explain now, so she “mm-hmmed” again.

Su Minguan fell silent again, his breathing long and subtle but audible.

Lin Yuchan couldn’t help wondering if there were still flaws in what she’d done.

A hand suddenly extended from the small ventilation opening—distinct veins on the back, long and powerful fingers slightly curved, with several faint red scratches remaining on the palm.

“Intelligent and brave, with good luck too,” Su Minguan’s voice was cheerful. “There’s an unlucky fellow with bad fortune here—come, let me absorb some of your fairy energy.”

Lin Yuchan couldn’t help laughing. She couldn’t see his expression behind the floorboard, but he was probably smiling too.

So she clenched her fist and bumped knuckles with him, avoiding his injured areas.

Only one day’s journey to Shanghai remained. She asked: “Does Shanghai have Heaven and Earth Society branches?”

Su Minguan concentrated on searching for filling in that vegetable bun, then after a while said: “There are—should be. The Jiangsu-Zhejiang area belongs to Honghua Hall, the youngest of the five houses, without deep roots. In the past, a wealthy merchant from the Thirteen Hongs named Wu Jianzhang, under orders from my predecessor, bought an official position to become Shanghai Circuit Intendant and secretly sponsored the Small Swords Society uprising—it failed. He couldn’t escape unscathed either and was soon dismissed and investigated, whereabouts unknown. Since then, we’ve lost contact with the Jiangsu-Zhejiang area. A few days ago, when being pursued by authorities, Uncle Cheng and I even discussed whether to flee north. Most brothers were unwilling to go far from home, so we rejected that idea and scattered to escape to the countryside—sigh, now I’ve inexplicably arrived here anyway, might as well scout ahead for the brothers.”

Though he spoke with sighs and complaints, Lin Yuchan felt there was a subtle excitement in his tone.

He was just an ordinary boy after all—no matter how precociously careful, his bones couldn’t bury that bit of adventurous gene.

Lin Yuchan remembered that night tour of Haizhuang Temple and asked him with a smile: “Have you abdicated your helmsman position?”

A thin gun barrel extended from the ventilation opening, waving before her eyes.

“Jin Lanhe’s identity is now a thorn in the authorities’ side. The Guangzhou governor has killed with red eyes—until the storm passes, no one’s head is secure.” Su Minguan sighed again. “Everyone isn’t being polite with me—they truly dare not accept. I think I’ll keep it myself, at least for self-defense.”

Since the Heaven and Earth Society’s founding, there had probably never been a helmsman who managed to become so isolated and betrayed.

But he immediately dropped this topic and enthusiastically taught her: “A’Mei, let me tell you—if you’re a society member stranded in a foreign land and see shops named ‘Yixing’ locally, or a symbol of two copper coins stacked together like the character ‘righteousness,’ that’s Heaven and Earth Society territory. You can swagger right in for free meals and lodging…”

Lin Yuchan was half-believing, half-doubting, laughing: “What if someone coincidentally gave their shop the same name?”

“Of course, the passwords must be correct. I’ll teach you some… actually, these are all things I’ve heard about, don’t know if they still work now, but memorizing them can’t hurt…”

“Wait,” Lin Yuchan said alertly, “I haven’t burned incense to join yet. Be careful not to break your rules. What if someday someone tells me ‘you know too much’ and I have nowhere to seek redress?”

Su Minguan gave a slight cold laugh: “Rules, rules—it’s precisely because of being too bound by rules that the Guangzhou Heaven and Earth Society nearly died out completely.”

Lin Yuchan’s heart grew solemn, and she stopped arguing, patiently listening to his teachings.

Her right ear pressed against the floorboard, Su Minguan’s voice traveled up through a pipe, exceptionally clear and pleasant, as if whispering in her ear.

She suddenly discovered his voice was very pleasant. When he spoke Cantonese, he didn’t have that typically short and forceful cadence, but rather leaned toward “soft,” and when sentences grew long, gave people an illusion of gentleness.

The cold metal plate made her cheek icy. The steam engine made a regular noise.

She let her mind wander: that was because he’d been a wealthy young master in the past. This society was so divided that upper and lower classes probably spoke with different accents…

“Have you memorized all the code words for various situations?” Su Minguan gently reminded her. “Repeat them once.”

Lin Yuchan: “…”

She pretended to stretch her shoulders, switched ears to press against the floor, and suddenly heard a long steam whistle.

“Entering Shanghai jurisdiction!” she called out quietly with relief. “I’m going out to see the scenery.”

She faintly heard Young Master Su quietly mock: “Never seen the world.”

Dawn had not yet arrived, the eastern sky like pale ink wash, sprinkling down pervasive coldness. A lost water bird suddenly flashed into her view, then flew into the distant low sky.

The steamship entered the Huangpu River mouth, quietly meandering forward. Starlight shifted west, illuminating the riverbank’s outline.