Winds rose and clouds surged, water waves flowed, and boats swayed. Suddenly, a wave surge came, and a small sampan climbed the wave crest as if about to break free from the dock. The mooring rope stretched taut, making creaking sounds, each strain tighter than the last, as if gathering strength for a final effort.
The great wave subsided, and the water surface suddenly returned to calm. The small sampan crashed into a neighboring boat with a bang.
The thugs and ruffians of Yixing Shipping had no interest in rest, all crowding around the dock to excitedly watch the show.
Listening to this pair of star-crossed lovers speaking tenderly in their hometown dialect, they barely caught the meaning of gathering money in the final sentence. The lackeys all showed joyful expressions, looking at Lin Yuchan with infinite admiration, as if viewing a walking stack of banknotes.
Such windfall opportunities came once in a century!
Lin Yuchan only felt these gazes made her flesh crawl. She leaped onto the dock. Without any clocks around, she didn’t know what time it was, but needed to leave quickly anyway.
The shipping office’s warehouse was cluttered with ship planks, spare parts, and cargo. Lin Yuchan hadn’t noticed when arriving that quite a few Clean Gang members were lodged there. Some smoked opium, some gambled quietly, and there was also—
“Sir, have mercy, I want to go home…” a thin female voice pleaded through the wall. “My… my parents are still waiting for me…”
A hoarse voice laughed sinisterly: “Your parents already used you to pay debts—if you keep our brothers happy, tomorrow you might still get a sip of soup. Come here!”
This was immediately followed by the sound of tearing clothes, the girl being gagged and dragged away.
And the crowd in the warehouse simply listened happily to those wails, many showing lewd smiles, grabbing at their groins.
That sound made Lin Yuchan’s stomach ache. She hurried along with a lowered head, feeling like an alien.
“Stay steady,” she thought through gritted teeth. “I can’t save all these people.”
Having fought her way this far, she couldn’t stumble at the exit.
But she still couldn’t help thinking that Su Minguan, that worthless street trash, was watching these filthy deeds play out daily yet remaining so composed, politely addressing Boss Chu and calling them “Clean Gang brothers.”
She pessimistically wondered what the Heaven and Earth Society’s other provincial branches had evolved into after independent development for so long.
Suddenly, a hand grabbed her shoulder.
Boss Chu, aroused by listening to the neighboring girl’s wails, finally showed his true colors, throwing his “control your hands for now” principle to the back of his mind.
“Little miss, don’t want to discuss price again?” He smiled while exhaling smoke. “Spend one night with me, and I’ll reduce your debt by one hundred taels.”
Lin Yuchan broke into cold sweat, immediately saying: “I have money! You can’t go back on your word!”
Boss Chu took her arm, smiling again: “One hundred twenty taels. Don’t be ungrateful. As long as you want to keep mixing in Yangjingbang, you’ll need my help someday.”
He figured this little miss wasn’t from any decent family anyway. She could throw herself into Su Minguan’s arms and dance intimately with foreigners, not even binding her feet, naturally very loose in matters between men and women. As long as the price was right, accompanying anyone was the same.
Lin Yuchan stretched out her big feet and ran. What happened to “Miss, you have multiple escape routes, we won’t make things difficult today”?
She’d calculated everything except overestimating human rationality.
The lackeys read their superior’s intentions and swarmed to close the door. Lin Yuchan grabbed the hidden door frame and shouted: “Officer—”
A large hand grabbed her collar as Boss Chu dragged her toward another door.
“Heh, such a fierce spirit. You should be grateful—today this master only wants to have some fun with you, not take your life…”
He pulled her braid, causing severe scalp pain. Lin Yuchan gritted her teeth and blurted out: “Let’s talk this through peacefully, I still have someone waiting for me, we can enjoy ourselves another day—”
Boss Chu released his grip, laughing sinisterly: “Really?”
Seemed she wasn’t so fierce after all, but rather sensible. Those small merchants who couldn’t pay protection fees, offering their servant girls, concubines, even wives and daughters as payment, wasn’t that all voluntary fair trade, not him forcing anyone.
Lin Yuchan’s stomach churned with nausea as she nodded. She couldn’t think of more pleading words—first get out of this door, then decide.
Boss Chu sneered: “Not just a stalling tactic?”
His bulging eyes stared at her fixedly. He leaned close, seeing those pale, trembling little lips, and lowered his head to bite.
BOOM!
Lin Yuchan’s eardrums shook, a flash like lightning before her eyes. Boss Chu’s big mouth stopped mid-air, his whole body falling forward onto her.
She covered her mouth, her entire body frozen for a moment before slowly regaining strength, staggering away three or four steps.
Boss Chu suddenly collapsed, his face hitting the threshold, all three eyebrows bleeding.
The lackeys’ faces still held traces of leering smiles, but their eyes were full of terror, staring like wooden chickens at the space across from Lin Yuchan.
A dark gun barrel smoking white.
Su Minguan’s hair was disheveled as if he’d just crawled from bed, yet his eyes gleamed sharp, as if he’d been waiting for this moment long time.
He quickly raised the gun barrel—no one saw his movement.
BOOM BOOM BOOM—three shots, and the three lackeys closest to Lin Yuchan fell in response.
Her three souls and seven spirits suddenly returned to their places. Following action movie extra movements, she rolled and crawled behind several boxes to avoid being in the way.
A thin arm reached out from behind the boxes. Boss Chu lay in a pool of blood, his belongings scattered everywhere. She quickly picked out the chipped jade lock from among them.
BOOM!
A lackey finally reacted, turning to grab a large blade. Before he could brandish it, he croaked and cooled down, the blade clanging to the floor before Su Minguan kicked it into the river.
He strode through the hall, using thumb and forefinger to extinguish lamps along the way, leaving the last one to carry.
The vast warehouse fell into darkness, only fearful panting sounds rising and falling. A beam of faint light illuminated half his face, flames burning unsteadily, reflected in his moody eyes.
Quick as a rabbit, fleet as a crane—the opium smokers and gamblers in the warehouse finally reacted. Some rushed over urgently, others held their heads, hiding under gambling tables.
Some couldn’t see clearly in the darkness, shouting: “Gang war! Rebellion! Quick, get weapons, protect the boss!”
“The boss is dead!” Su Minguan shouted. “Everyone, squat down!”
His shooting Boss Chu was a momentary impulse, but once the arrow was released, there was no turning back—he had five bullets left.
Impulse wasn’t scary—handling the aftermath cleanly was what mattered.
Rustling sounds came from behind the boxes. Lin Yuchan gathered courage to peek out, stammering: “The door’s over there… if you count one-two-three I’ll run…”
“Still thinking of running at this time?” Su Minguan bit his lip, glaring at her with frustration. “Can you even escape?”
He dragged her by the collar, throwing her back into the corner, then strode to one end of the warehouse. Five or six lackeys crouched there holding their heads, all seeking escape routes. As the lamplight stabbed in, everyone covered their eyes together.
“How many men are here?” He casually pointed his gun at a hunchbacked lackey. “How many people total are in the Clean Gang? Where’s the personnel roster? Where’s the armory? Where are the shipping ledgers? Where’s all the cash?”
The hunchbacked lackey trembled like chaff, but his eyes saw not far away—a string of horrifying bloodstains on the moonlit dock.
Boss Chu unexpectedly hadn’t been killed by one shot. With a bloody hole in his back, he was struggling to crawl toward Suzhou Creek.
The hunchbacked lackey roared fiercely and jumped up to seize Su Minguan’s gun.
BOOM—half the lackey’s shoulder exploded, and he fainted from pain.
Su Minguan pointed at another lackey: “Your turn to talk.”
However fierce these underworld bullies were, most had never seen anyone wield foreign guns with such power. This man was already scared to the point of urinating, a stench spreading from his lower body.
“I’ll confess, I’ll confess… There are thirty-plus here… in the settlement, two or three hundred with names… over a hundred in Shanghai County… Songjiang, Jiading…”
Suddenly, there was a splash—the severely wounded Boss Chu had crawled off the dock, diving headfirst into Suzhou Creek, leaving a string of water splashes in the moonlight.
Su Minguan rushed out and fired another shot at those splashes.
It missed.
He returned to the warehouse as if nothing had happened, blowing white smoke from the gun barrel and ordering: “Dead. Continue talking.”
Lin Yuchan hid behind wooden boxes, her intestines twisting in pain, heart nearly jumping from her throat—thump thump thump, even more nervous than when Boss Chu had been inappropriate with her earlier.
The gunpowder smell was choking, gunshots had surely carried at least half a creek away. Su Minguan was always deep in planning—today, she couldn’t imagine how he’d wrap this up.
But unexpectedly, the police station just one street away showed no movement at all.
Settlement police stations existed to protect foreign residents. Chinese killing each other was trivial—they didn’t care.
Besides, this wasn’t the first time people had died in these gang hideouts.
Su Minguan listened seriously to the lackey’s testimony, casually hanging the oil lamp on the wall while checking his firearm. Sweat slid from his disheveled temples down to his chin.
The assembly had been too rushed. The barrel wasn’t straight, the trajectory had deviation, and it got more skewed with each shot. He’d aimed for Boss Chu’s vital points, but somehow two shots hadn’t killed him.
Cotton fibers still clung to the gun handle, along with silk threads she’d frantically torn from her trouser lining.
But there was no time to reassemble now. Yixing Shipping’s weapons were all hidden in the neighboring storeroom—only some crude long and short blades, rattan shields, and fire guns. Even these were weapons explicitly forbidden by Qing law. Only because no one inspected the settlement could people possess them; otherwise, possession meant execution.
He picked the sharpest knife and hung it at his waist. In a corner, he also found a dirty, cracked wooden statue of Guan Di. He picked it up and tucked it under his arm.
Then he collected all keys, searched out rosters and ledgers, and locked the armory door.
Seven bullets had established authority—the lackeys dared not slack off, crawling closer on their bellies.
“Spare our lives, hero… spare us, brother… we never offended this young lady, it was Boss Chu himself breaking rules… spare us, spare us…”
Some also looked around sneakily, checking if he had accomplices.
Su Minguan stood the weathered Guan Di statue in the pool of blood and spoke loudly.
“Jin Lanhe of Hongshun Hall, acting on orders from the chief helmsman, is specially here to clean house. Chu…” He opened the roster, glancing at it. “Chu Nanyun violated society rules with accumulated evil deeds—immediately expelled from Hongmen, along with five close associates, all executed on the spot. Other brothers, though guilty, considering their shallow involvement, if willing to return allegiance to Hongmen, were all pardoned. Those wishing to return home, free to leave. Yixing Shipping ceases operations immediately, to be taken over and reorganized by the Guangdong branch.”
The lackeys looked at each other blankly. The Heaven and Earth Society’s two acknowledged chief helmsmen—first Zheng Chenggong, second Chen Jinnan—had been playing mahjong in heaven for centuries, unable to manage their earthly descendants. Various branches had long operated independently. The so-called “chief helmsman’s orders,” like Hong Xiuquan’s proclaimed “Heavenly Father’s holy edicts,” were just rubber stamps declaring righteous cause.
But once “Jin Lanhe’s” name emerged, all the older ones were thunderstruck with recognition.
“Guangdong’s Jin Lanhe… said to have a blessed foreign gun, divine marksmanship, piercing willows at a hundred paces…”
“Isn’t that this very gun?—No way, where’d it come from?”
“Reportedly at Sanyuanli in Guangzhou, single-handedly shot two hundred foreign devils…”
“…Wasn’t he already beheaded? How is he…”
“Fake! Sleight of hand! Alive again! You’re behind on news…”
Su Minguan let people speculate and discuss. His gun was nearly falling apart, only three bullets left, and no “Guangdong branch” for backup. If anyone made a desperate attempt, he’d have to join Boss Chu swimming side by side in Suzhou Creek.
Suddenly, a large man burst from the prostrate crowd, queue coiled atop his head, shouting hoarsely: “Fake! I’ve seen Jin Lanhe! Big beard! Not this young!”
This was one of Chu Nanyun’s most trusted enforcers. Thick and strong with bulging muscles, while shouting, he flexed his joints with cracking sounds, simultaneously grabbing an opium pipe from the table and easily snapping it in two with a crack.
Fragments fell to the ground as he lunged fiercely at Su Minguan.
“You can try,” the mottled gun muzzle pointed between his eyes. The young man behind the barrel pressed his lips together, his faint smile chilling to the bone. “Then you’ll know if I’m real or fake.”
The big man’s throat gurgled as he stared fiercely, peripheral vision catching the several corpses in pools of blood.
Su Minguan’s finger touched the trigger, calmly returning the gaze. The slight movement gave him ominous feedback—this bullet in the chamber was probably jammed.
The heart-stopping standoff lasted about the time for a cup of tea. Suddenly, another lackey stood up, trembling, forcefully pushing away the big man’s fist.
“Enough. Accept fate.” He turned to Su Minguan, saying hoarsely: “Thank you, helmsman, for sparing our lives.”
Groups most feared disunity. Moreover, the warehouse contained many like Su Minguan who’d been tricked into hard labor—now silent as puppets.
Though lacking a beard, the gray-faced Guan Gong retained his rough carving and fierce tiger eyes, forbidding direct gaze.
A filthy oil lamp from below cast the abandoned wooden carving like a heavenly god.
Su Minguan’s heart stirred. He walked before the statue, lifted his robe hem, and solemnly bowed down.
“With gods above, bless our Hongmen to return to righteousness.”
No matter how ruthless, it was hard for anyone to immediately respect a young man still showing traces of youth. But Guan Gong was the deity Tiandihui had worshipped for centuries—even the most vicious, under that divine gaze, dared not harbor evil thoughts.
Su Minguan straightened his spine without turning around.
Behind him crowded a mass of dark villains—not one dared attack from behind.
Weak firelight fell on him, outlining his silhouette with flame’s edge.
One or two people knelt, gradually everyone in the warehouse prostrated themselves, some quietly sobbing, their hoarse voices extremely ugly.
Su Minguan turned to count heads.
For now, everyone only feared him. Whether they could be used remained unknown.
After brief consideration, he said: “Are there any Guangdong brothers here? Come speak.”
Seven or eight people stood up. In recent years had seen Guangzhou trade decline, many from the bottom going bankrupt and drifting to Shanghai to make a living.
In the Qing, especially in the south, regional and clan power couldn’t be underestimated. Mutual support among fellow townsmen was an unspoken social rule, more weighty than any loyalty, filial piety, or righteousness.
Under Chu Nanyun’s command, these Cantonese had been marginalized and excluded from important positions.
When Su Minguan was trapped here doing hard labor, he’d communicated with them, sharing similar fates—hardly enemies.
They deeply believed in Jin Lanhe’s legend, and seeing Su Minguan indeed capable, immediately “bowed their heads in submission,” some even complaining:
“Boss Chu used us as laborers!”
“Cut off contact with Jiangsu-Zhejiang and Guangdong brothers—we weren’t willing either!”
“Boss Chu gave us opium, we had… no choice…”
With several ready-made loyal subordinates, Su Minguan was finally not a lone commander. After clarifying everyone’s names and origins, he briefly considered and began assigning tasks.
Seal shipping office entrances and exits, inventory wealth, search everyone, centrally guard unstable elements, notify various hideouts of changes, dispose of corpses and bloodstains, fetch incense and candles, have everyone rejoin according to Hongmen rules, renew brotherhood, retake solemn oaths…
Subordinates even actively offered advice: “Best to pay some money to honor the police. You made quite a commotion tonight, boss.”
Su Minguan nodded and had someone handle it.
…
Only after the shipping office returned to calm did Su Minguan lightly exhale, his tightly furrowed brow relaxing. He supported himself on a box, slowly sitting down, smoothing his hair and squeezing out a handful of cold sweat.
His palms still held sulfur and bloody scents. Closing his eyes briefly, when he opened them, he was again gentle as jade, without a trace of murderous aura.
“A’Mei… do you have a handkerchief?”