Sometimes Lin Yuchan wondered how, in the Qing Dynasty without internet or telephone lines, people scattered across the nine provinces and four seas—perhaps never venturing beyond a hundred li from their hometown in their entire lives—could establish a nationwide network of communication and construct the loose yet massive organization known as the “Hongmen.”

Eliminating evil and upholding justice, striking down the strong to support the weak, mutual aid and assistance, responding to a single call with a hundred answers.

Who knows how many heads were sacrificed as offerings, how many generations poured their heart and soul into it?

No wonder the emperors of old—Kangxi, Yongzheng, Qianlong—were so extremely fearful of this power arising from the people, repeatedly ordering the destruction of this terrifying organization.

And no wonder that although it suffered relentless persecution, it never completely died out, and even a single spark could reignite it.

Su Minguan boarded the “Yixing” sailing ship, exchanged a round of secret codes with the people on board, and everyone warmly greeted him with cupped hands, addressing each other as brothers.

When he disembarked from the Yixing, his face was beaming with smiles, his bodily injuries seemed to have vanished without a trace, and every movement was vigorous and powerful.

Though his clothes were still wet and water dripped from his hair, he once again carried the bearing of a helmsman.

“A’Mei, hurry aboard and change out of those wet clothes.”

Lin Yuchan merely smiled with pressed lips. Su Minguan was usually cautious, but suddenly, “meeting old friends in foreign lands,” he was somewhat carried away with joy.

Or perhaps he was showing off in front of her.

She didn’t move, her peripheral vision glancing at Hede lying motionless nearby.

Su Minguan hesitated for a moment, then said in a low voice: “They won’t rescue foreigners.”

Seeing her expression, he added: “Besides, he’s probably not going to survive anyway.”

Lin Yuchan said decisively: “Then I’m not leaving.”

Su Minguan’s face darkened slightly. “This isn’t the time to be overly charitable. These foreigners came across the ocean to China for speculation and adventure. Who among them didn’t prepare for the possibility of dying at sea from the moment they left their homeland? There’s no need for us to worry needlessly.”

Lin Yuchan smiled bitterly to herself. She didn’t want to be overly charitable either—Comrade Xiao Bai always misunderstood her as being so kind-hearted.

After weighing her words for a long time, she finally said simply: “The official business this foreigner carries is closely related to the welfare of our people. I don’t want him to die—at least I should try my best.”

She paused, then said sincerely: “You go aboard, find the organization, don’t let the local authorities catch you across provinces.”

Seeing he wouldn’t leave, she pushed his back: “Be good.”

What could he do even if his face was as black as thunder? After soaking in the Huangpu River for so long, his gun was surely waterlogged and useless, unable to intimidate her as before.

After speaking, she turned and knelt beside Hede, recalling the CPR taught in her elective course—

Just press. Under her hands lay one-third of modern China’s fiscal revenue.

But whether it was because she hadn’t listened carefully in the elective course or her physical strength was insufficient, Hede’s face showed no change, his light-colored hair soaked in river water, lifeless.

She bit her lip until it bled from anxiety, not caring to think about what would happen if the world line collapsed. She was just an eighteen-year-old high school graduate in terms of mental age, setting aside positions, nationality, historical baggage, and everything else; simply watching a fellow human life fade away before her eyes was very painful.

Suddenly, she heard faint breathing sounds behind her. She spun around—Su Minguan had somehow returned to the wooden plank, sitting quietly in a corner, watching her coldly.

The Yixing merchant ship had long since sailed away, its fluttering copper coin flag disappearing into the rippling light of the Bund.

She was at a loss for words: “You… you didn’t leave…”

Su Minguan looked at her deeply: “Afraid you’d be scared staying alone with a dead man.”

Before he finished speaking, the “dead man” under Lin Yuchan’s hands coughed violently, spitting out a stream of water.

The morning stars faded, and the river surface gradually took on a light azure hue. A bright white large fish leaped from the water, flicking its tail.

Lin Yuchan was overjoyed: “The elective course wasn’t wasted!”

But clearly, he had been nearly dead just moments ago!

This world seemed to announce to her in a silent way that a time traveler’s butterfly wings couldn’t stir up hurricanes and tsunamis—the steering wheel of history remained firmly in the hands of the people.

Hede opened his eyes in confusion, his eyeballs rolling twice before seeing his large wooden chest, gratitude shining in his eyes.

“Miss Lin, it was you…”

It was her. This temporary worker was truly worth more than her wages.

Hede struggled to sit up, looking around in bewilderment. The riverside scenery remained as peaceful and prosperous as ever. Two hours ago, he had been marveling at how Shanghai was like a graceful young lady opening her arms to welcome him.

Now it seemed the beautiful lady was also a dangerous Eastern assassin. He hadn’t even set foot on Shanghai’s soil before nearly losing his life here.

Su Minguan sighed: “A’Mei, come here.”

“You’re young, so you probably don’t remember when the foreigners bombarded Guangzhou.” He spoke without preamble, treating Hede as if he were dead. “Back then, the foreigners weren’t completely confident they could take down the Qing Dynasty. They made friends with anti-Qing Chinese everywhere, offering generous rewards to have them translate and guide. My uncle told me that many people from the Heaven and Earth Society were deceived at the time, thinking they saw an opportunity for restoration, and flocked to serve the foreigners.

“Who knew that after the foreigners signed a treaty with the Qing and ceased hostilities, they turned around and joined hands with the court to settle accounts with the secret societies. Those mediocre Green Standard troops originally couldn’t handle us, but the foreigners sold firearms and cannons to the court. We suffered heavy losses and finally realized that foreigners had no sense of propriety, righteousness, or trustworthiness—they were no different from the Qing court.”

Lin Yuchan made an “mm” sound, not knowing how to comment. Looking through history’s rearview mirror, one could simply say “traitors deserved to die.” But those involved were confused—facing unprecedented changes in three thousand years, who could guarantee they wouldn’t make a wrong step?

Those isolated Native American tribes, when they welcomed European navigators with feasts and songs, never imagined that a massacre would come tomorrow.

Su Minguan continued: “Today you saved this Englishman’s life—don’t expect him to show gratitude, and you should be even more on guard. After all, not every foreign gentleman has been seen in such a sorry state by Chinese people.”

He raised his voice for the last sentence, and Hede heard it clearly, immediately becoming furious and propping himself up.

“You… whose crew member are you? So you’ve been treating me like a bandit all along? True, our two countries have had wars, but isn’t there peace now? I, Robert Hede, don’t have a drop of Chinese blood on my hands. My contributions to the Qing Dynasty exceed those of half your officials. I won’t allow you to insult my character like this.”

Su Minguan lazily glanced at Hede and said to Lin Yuchan with a smile: “See? Didn’t I tell you? He can’t even be bothered to say thank you.”

He crossed his arms, the waves lapping at his trouser legs as if carrying him through wind and waves.

Hede was stunned, his face flushing deeply. Finally admitting he was wrong, he gritted his teeth and nodded.

Unable to stand steadily on the floating wooden plank, he half-knelt and gave a long bow to Lin Yuchan.

“Thank… thank you, Miss Lin, for saving my life today. Robert dare not forget this kindness and will surely repay it in the future, devoting myself completely…”

“Stop, stop. You’d better check a dictionary before using those idioms.” Lin Yuchan quickly said, “Well… you’re welcome. Heaven values the preservation of life. I couldn’t have saved you alone—Su… he also helped.”

She kept her guard up, not mentioning Su Minguan’s name. If the Maritime Customs and Guangzhou Prefecture shared information, it would be troublesome if Hede recognized him.

Hede’s face darkened, his chest rising and falling with obvious internal struggle.

Finally, he said: “Then… then thank you too, young man. I hope your speech is as kind as your heart.”

He intended to match words with actions, feeling in his pocket and pulling out a golden pocket watch. Unfortunately, it had been soaked and stopped working.

“I don’t have anything valuable on me right now. If you get this repaired, it should be…”

“No need.” Lin Yuchan saw Su Minguan’s expression turning sour and quickly interrupted. “Life cannot be exchanged for money.”

He probably played with such watches like pebbles as a child and wouldn’t care about them.

She sized up Hede. He was soaked through, his face ashen. With no attendants or official insignia, and now alone, facing two Chinese people who weren’t the type to grovel obsequiously.

With Chief Su serving as a ready-made revolutionary mentor to give him anti-colonial re-education, the foreign gentleman finally lost that air of being heaven’s favored son and began learning humility.

He tentatively asked: “Then, you two…”

Su Minguan kept a cold face and ignored him.

Half a year ago, Young Master Su had inexplicably fished a girl out of a mass grave, and today he was nominally doing good deeds again, fishing a foreign devil out of the water—he had already overdrawn his charity quota to who knows what year. His mood was gloomy.

Hede couldn’t do anything about him either, so he said: “Then, if there’s anything you want accomplished, as long as it’s within my power…”

Lin Yuchan’s heartbeat quickened slightly.

If Hede’s future was truly as limitless as recorded in history, then his promise today could be worth a fortune—a super cheat code.

But upon reflection, she wasn’t optimistic.

Could she ask him to end British colonial exploitation of the Qing? Could she have him distribute all the customs silver to the poor? Could she make him pick up foreign guns and start a revolution?

Or could she, like heroines in novels, say, “First, promise me three things—I haven’t thought of what three things yet, but you must accomplish them for me later…”?

Hede was human after all, not Aladdin’s lamp. If he was narrow-minded and felt she was “leveraging kindness for personal gain,” he might well harbor resentment, and by then, regret would be too late.

In the treacherous Qing Dynasty, thinking thrice before acting was never a bad habit.

She quickly weighed her options and smiled: “If this were someone else, I really would demand some compensation for my trouble. But Mr. Hede may have forgotten that half a year ago in Guangzhou City, when I had malaria, I heard that old pastor say it was your medicine that cured me. Of course, for you, that was just lifting a finger, and today pulling you up was just lifting a finger for me, too. Neither of us should feel psychologically burdened.”

Hede was stunned for a moment, then nodded involuntarily.

“Miss Lin,” he smiled, “you’re not like Chinese people, but very much like our English lad…”

“Hey, there’s a ship coming!” Lin Yuchan suddenly stood up and waved, the plank sinking sharply. “It’s a foreign ship! Hey hey, over here!”

The ship was still far away. But Lin Yuchan pretended enthusiasm, jumping up and down.

Hede might have thought that comment was a compliment, but she didn’t think so—better to let those words stick in his throat so nobody would be embarrassed.

By now, it was broad daylight, and every person who had fallen into the Huangpu River was visible, speeding up rescue efforts considerably. A steamer flying the French flag finally spotted the broken plank where Lin Yuchan was, sounding its whistle as it came to pick them up.

Su Minguan patted Lin Yuchan’s shoulder.

“A’Mei, see you later.” His face reflected the morning light, his eyes sparkling with flowing radiance, yet appearing inexplicably melancholy. “Don’t forget what I reminded you.”

Lin Yuchan was startled: “You’re going to…”

Su Minguan pressed his lips together and said no more.

The last time they parted, he had fussed over her for ages, only to meet again within ten days, making him feel his good intentions were wasted and resolving never to lecture her again.

Using the slight waves brought by the foreign steamship, he silently slipped into the river. After a while, the life preserver tied to the plank also broke free on its own, departing without farewell, drifting in a mysteriously straight line through the churning waves.

He was bound to leave eventually. Even though there was no national network now and Guangzhou’s arrest warrants couldn’t reach Shanghai, his identity was suspicious—he couldn’t face the authorities again.

Lin Yuchan felt a sense of loss, waving toward those waves.

But suddenly she felt something hard against her leg.

When she reached down to touch it, her whole body stiffened, and she almost shouted: “Come back…”

A slender firearm with a small tin cylinder of ammunition tied to the barrel, tightly sealed. He hadn’t taken it with him.

Given his cautious nature, this didn’t seem like an oversight but rather something intentionally left for her.

…What did this mean? A hands-on reminder to beware of the foreigner beside her?

With some doubt, she quietly hid the gun under her clothing.

Hede was beaming, chatting with the sailors on the ship: “…That’s right, that’s right, it’s me, Deputy Chief Commissioner of Guangdong Maritime Customs. You can claim a reward from the consul when you return—listen, lift this chest first, then help this young lady up, as for that Chinese sailor… eh? Eh?…”

Fortunately, despite being hit by cannonballs and having their ship capsized, Hede’s party suffered few casualties—only three or four were seriously injured, all promptly treated. The rest recuperated in hotels.

The Taiping Army’s offensive was short-lived, quickly and brutally suppressed by foreign guns and cannons. Shanghai had large foreign concessions, and the foreigners in the concessions certainly didn’t want the flames of war to reach them, so they brazenly violated neutrality and established the “Yangjingbang Defense Committee.” The court took advantage of this to “borrow foreign troops to assist in suppression,” and officials at all levels sang praises of gratitude.

The Taiping forces attacking the city, still thinking that foreigners, as fellow “children of God,” would surely support them, if not opening the city in welcome, at least secretly assisting.

Naively reckless. Failure was inevitable.

The script Su Minguan described—mistaking enemies for friends, ending in fierce conflict—played out again and again in different places.

Lin Yuchan was quite idle. After resting for two days, Hede began his lobbying tour. According to his attendants, he spent every day at the Imperial Maritime Customs arguing with his superiors, along with dragging various relevant government offices to help him argue. The Imperial Maritime Customs building standing on the Bund was even more imposing than Guangzhou’s Guangdong Maritime Customs, with columns and domes in the hall providing excellent acoustics. Since Hede’s visit, it sounded like the British Parliament was in there every day, with arguments loud enough to carry across to Pudong.

Moreover, Mr. Hede had a quirk—when agitated, his English became imprecise, occasionally bursting out with strange Irish country accents. A roomful of fellow British gentlemen would look at each other and unanimously suggest: “You can speak Chinese. We have interpreters.”

As a temporary worker with limited status, Lin Yuchan couldn’t follow along to watch the excitement.

However, on Sunday, when it was time for the regular salary payment, Lin Yuchan held the paper envelope and felt it was heavier than usual.

She quietly opened it and gasped at the clinking sound.

A small handful of silver dollars—counting them, one dollar and eighty cents.

A pay slip was attached with “Robert” stamped privately on it, indicating she was now on the permanent staff roster, three grades higher than her previous position.

Hede, determined not to be considered ungrateful by Chinese people, had given her an exceptional raise.

The female servants and cooks in the same quarters also received their wages, happily counting them. Someone immediately noticed—

“Mrs. Su Lin, you’ve got quite a bit of money! Who rewarded you?”

Lin Yuchan quickly stuffed the silver dollars into her sleeve: “I… this isn’t reward money, someone asked me to repay a debt.”

She instinctively felt she shouldn’t tell the truth. As far as she knew, most Chinese people employed by the Maritime Customs held low positions like messengers, laborers, and clerks. Not to mention the handful of female workers who cooked and cleaned—who among them had ever received the enormous sum of one dollar and eighty cents per week?

If others knew she had received a raise out of nowhere, there would inevitably be malicious speculation.

She thought she should find an opportunity to advise the wealthy Mr. Hede to implement salary confidentiality.

The female workers, having received their wages, discussed going out shopping. Lin Yuchan, eager to observe Shanghai’s customs, excitedly put on her shoes and went out with them.

Of course, before leaving, she didn’t forget to lock her wardrobe, where a gun was hidden that no one knew about.