The fifteenth day of the first lunar month in the Qing Dynasty was a hundred times more lively than any Lantern Festival Lin Yuchan had witnessed in modern times.

In the old town district of Nanshi, the beggars and refugees who usually filled the streets had vanished without a trace, replaced by flashing lanterns and the din of silk and bamboo instruments. Lantern riddle games boldly occupied the roadways, and food stalls stretched endlessly as far as the eye could see.

Someone was arguing in Beijing dialect: “Since ancient times, yuanxiao have always been sweet! What’s the logic in stuffing meat into the filling? Isn’t this just fooling people? Hey, give us your opinion on this…”

Government-sponsored opera troupes performed with gusto, their voices splitting clouds and rending silk as they praised the Emperor and Empress Dowager’s New Year blessings.

Several opera troupes competed on the same stage, all invited elites from various provinces. They opened their throats with southern and northern accents, their lyrics unclear, but their acrobatic tumbling was spectacular, making the audience below gape and roar with laughter.

The police station had also dispatched extra personnel to maintain order at all the bustling venues.

The constables wore red tassels at their waists and colorful flowers tied to their rifle barrels. They had obtained wine, food, and pastries from shops and happily greeted the common people, presenting quite the picture of harmonious military-civilian relations.

It was a scene of peace and prosperity. Anyone who saw it would think the Qing Dynasty could remain stable for at least another five hundred years.

“Lively is lively, but it would be even better with lion dances,” Su Minguan said, having somehow guessed a lantern riddle and won a cheap red lantern, which he carried in his hand with high spirits as he daydreamed. “When I have money, I’ll invite a troupe from Foshan.”

The men and women who had been busy and stifled all year finally had a chance to legally go out for night tours, like overfilled balloons with a leak, indulging themselves without restraint.

The young ladies and wives who usually kept their heads down and chests in were today heavily made up, wearing competing three-inch bound feet shoes. They walked arm in arm along the streets, laughing and chatting, quietly commenting on the appearance of passing young men. Some women even grouped to watch the examination candidates outside the guild halls, and when they saw handsome scholars passing by, they would giggle and approach to touch their sleeves and collars, claiming to “absorb scholarly energy to bear accomplished sons.” Several young scholars surrounded and teased, reacted differently – some blushed deeply, others thrived like fish in water, taking the opportunity to flirt with the girls.

Lin Yuchan watched with wide eyes. She wondered, was this still the Qing Dynasty?

Basic human nature wouldn’t be extinguished by oppression. Even if these women returned to their inner chambers tomorrow, they would spend the next year in darkness to reminisce about today’s blushing excitement.

Su Minguan was also seeing this custom for the first time. While shaking his head and lamenting the decline of moral standards, he eagerly moved closer to watch. Unfortunately, getting too close brought trouble upon himself – extreme joy turned to sorrow.

“…Hey, hey, sister, you’re touching the wrong person! This humble one has repeatedly failed the examinations and writes essays full of errors. Please don’t catch my bad luck. Thank you very much, congratulations and prosperity…”

Behind him came a chorus of melodious laughter. He fled in panic with Lin Yuchan, complaining as they went: “You didn’t even protect me.”

Lin Yuchan couldn’t help but laugh heartily: “Sorry for letting you suffer. I’ll treat you to tangyuan.”

She could see it too. His New Year had been chaotic – opening his eyes to a group of unsightly subordinates, worrying about every two coins daily, desperately needing stress relief.

The festival was the perfect excuse.

So she followed the crowd into Yu Garden – no longer a private garden but filled with restaurants and teahouses. The best seats were occupied by female family members who rarely went out, creating a situation where yin energy overwhelmed yang.

Then Lin Yuchan saw that when Master Minguan walked under an orange-yellow flower lantern, the light illuminated his handsome appearance, and the dim yellow glow added spring charm to his face, immediately attracting dozens of burning gazes from all directions.

He turned his head pitifully: “A’Mei…”

“You’ll get used to it,” Lin Yuchan said indifferently. “When I used to work the streets, people looked at me like this every day.”

Not because she was devastatingly beautiful. The reason was simple: there were few girls on the streets.

Now that the situation was reversed, Su Minguan’s face couldn’t be thinner than hers.

She pointed ahead: “Tangyuan?”

Su Minguan indeed adapted quickly, following as if nothing had happened, but mulling over her words twice in his mind.

When they sat on the bench and the smiling waiter brought two bowls of tangyuan, they bit into them and found, as expected, vegetable and meat filling – savory.

“It should be savory,” the Guangdong girl decisively sided with the Shanghai locals. “Sweet is heretical.”

Su Minguan said nothing, silently observing her.

He felt uncomfortable being stared at by a group of women for just a moment; she lived this way every day.

Previously, when conducting business with her, he only knew she suffered like an ordinary apprentice, but didn’t realize she lived more difficultly than he had imagined.

The difficulty lay in a pile of troubles he couldn’t have anticipated.

Today the little girl was dressed warmly, her small head and hands poking out from cotton clothes. Her big eyes sparkled with life, and she seemed carefree when talking about anything, easily making people mistake her for still childish.

But the corners of her eyes already hid storms, having witnessed sorrows and joys. Her grown-up figure no longer seemed fragile, able to bear some weight.

He couldn’t help wondering how much trivial hardship lay beneath her cheerfulness today.

But his thoughts were deep. This feeling only flashed by before hiding in his eyes, and he put on a pure smile to argue with her: “Let me tell you a secret – I like sweet things. I love black sesame and white sugar filling the most.”

“Heretic.” Lin Yuchan slapped a big label on him. “You…”

She still felt the person across from her looking at her, so she casually asked: “What’s wrong with my face?”

Su Minguan openly stared at her for two seconds, then asked softly: “A’Mei, did you powder your face today? You look whiter than when we first met.”

“No,” Lin Yuchan was puzzled. Fussing with makeup in hell mode – did she have money to burn?

Then she understood and told him, “Sun protection.”

There was no sunscreen in this era. When going out in the sun, she habitually wore wide hats and pulled cloth to cover her face – her only form of self-care.

Recently, she had discovered Vaseline in Rong Hong’s shop and applied it carelessly, better than nothing.

Ordinary poor people didn’t care about this – men and women alike were all tanned dark. With her slight attention to this, over time, she naturally stood out as pale.

After answering, Lin Yuchan realized – was he complimenting my looks?

She blushed a little, yet was very confused. This wasn’t like the young master’s style!

Su Minguan looked down and sighed: “What a pity.”

Lin Yuchan: “…”

She knew nothing good would come from his mouth.

“Pity what?” she asked sincerely.

Su Minguan said gloomily, “If there were such natural face powder, I’d pay a high price for the recipe. One purchase, one sale, one resale – Yixing’s account flow could last at least two more months.”

Lin Yuchan turned away, laughing wildly. This man was obsessed with making money.

He also smiled helplessly in cooperation, using his spoon to fiddle with the vegetable and meat tangyuan, torn between savory and sweet. He swallowed the last one, tossed a few copper coins on the table, rubbed the table corner for a while, then stood up.

“Let’s go, there’s excitement over there. Let’s go see.”

Lin Yuchan agreed, but suddenly caught something in her peripheral vision and looked down.

By the distant candlelight, she saw that where Su Minguan had just touched the table leg, there was now a rough, carved mark.

Two copper coins, stacked together, colored black with charcoal ash.

She quickly stepped forward to catch up with him. Su Minguan was holding a small shaving knife between his fingers, pretending to shave his face casually, then smoothly tucked it into his sleeve.

He pretended to be impatient: “A’Mei, don’t dawdle.”

Lin Yuchan remembered that earlier he had led her around the old town of Shanghai, looking at lights and watching opera, specifically choosing crowded places to linger, always taking extra time.

She suddenly understood. This was his real intention for enthusiastically coming out to celebrate the festival.

It wasn’t good to graffiti at shop doorways in broad daylight. Nights were better for doing business.

Choosing busy locations with high foot traffic to post “QR codes,” notifying all the members abandoned by the Green Gang who couldn’t find their organization that the “genuine” Yixing was reopening for business.

(Come pay your membership dues!)

A dog enjoying the festivities with the people ran by carrying half a tangyuan, stopping at the foot of a memorial arch and lifting its hind leg.

Lin Yuchan finally couldn’t help herself. She grabbed Master Su’s sleeve, slowly pulled out the blade, and said softly: “Why do I feel this little dog has a long-lost brother who just cultivated into human form?”

Su Minguan was first startled, quickly snatched back the blade, and then his face turned as black as a pot bottom.

“You talk too much.”

At a Western pastry shop on the street, he threw out a copper coin, bought a buttered bread, and stuffed it in her hand, hoping to shut her mouth.

But the path ahead was blocked by bustling crowds. Flower lanterns hung high, and around a low platform draped with colored ribbons, silk, and famous paintings, sat more than ten young women in heavy makeup. Jeweled ornaments sparkled on their heads, their whole bodies in gorgeous colorful clothes, feet dangling, embroidered shoes adorned with jewels peeking out from under their skirts.

A row of lanterns on the ground cast light upward, making those embroidered shoes gleam with flowing colors.

The men and women admiring the lanterns chatted and laughed, pointing at these women and commenting freely without restraint. Some bold ones even went up to touch them.

Lin Yuchan had never seen such a scene, but could guess by intuition – “Courtesan presentation?”

In the 19th century, did Shanghai still have this kind of show?

Otherwise, if these were respectable women, even during festival outings, who would sit there constantly smiling coquettishly, letting strangers touch their feet?

Indeed, there were signs in front of the courtesans with names like “Tianxiang Hall” and “Yunxue Pavilion” – presumably their “workplaces.”

A banner slowly unfurled with a line of bold characters. Lin Yuchan could make out the last few words: “…Foot Competition.”

“Holy shit.” She immediately felt an uncomfortable physiological reaction. “Why compete in that of all things?”