That evening, Wu Li and Wu Yang didn’t do embroidery work, but instead played with the tinplate can and design samples Lin Yuchan had given them, busily examining them with curiosity until dark.

The next day, Lin Yuchan received their attempt.

She pursed her lips, choosing her words carefully.

“Eighty percent good. I’ll take it. But if you plan to keep selling to me, I need you two to learn some basic painting skills.”

Wu Li was skilled with her hands. Copying that “Magic Hands Qin” design, she reproduced it quite faithfully. Since there was no intellectual property protection in this era anyway, and “Magic Hands Qin’s” designs might well be copied from somewhere else, Lin Yuchan felt no psychological burden, praising repeatedly how lifelike it was.

Wu Yang was younger with a more active mind. She took the design and added her creative touches according to her preferences. What she painted also looked quite proper. Lin Yuchan put herself in Western aesthetic shoes and felt that this tea, taken abroad, should earn considerable praise at dinner parties.

It’s just that the two hadn’t received systematic painting training, so their finished products had some gaps compared to “Magic Hands Qin.” Lin Yuchan wasn’t a professional either and couldn’t pinpoint the specific issues.

Hearing they’d need to learn painting, Wu Yang was somewhat intimidated.

“We’re just housewives. We paint embroidery patterns purely by feel – who could we learn from?”

Lin Yuchan glanced at the memorial tablets in the hall: “I’ll invite a painting master, is that alright?”

The two women both fell silent.

Lin Yuchan: “Five wen per can. We can get the two gentlemen a more upscale resting place.”

Not easy. To persuade the two aunties to meet a strange man still required money’s power.

Male painters weren’t hard to find. Shanghai was full of foreign trade goods, and export painting had become an industry. Any craftsman with deft hands could, after a few months’ practice, paint what foreigners saw as authentic Eastern charm.

Lin Yuchan found a painting workshop under Yixing’s protection. For one silver dollar, she hired a kindly-faced old gentleman and brought him back to the stone gate rental house.

Opening the door, she was stunned.

The main room was filled with a dozen or so women chattering in soft Wu dialect!

The Wu family’s father and son’s memorial tablets had been temporarily moved to a corner.

Most of the women were middle-aged or older, with smooth hair buns, wearing semi-new clothes. Some even wore jewelry and embroidered shoes, looking as if they were celebrating a festival.

The old painting master was startled, thinking he’d come to the wrong place.

Wu Yang was a bit embarrassed, smiling as she introduced: “These are all old sisters from the neighborhood. When they heard someone was looking for women to paint and paying five wen per piece, they all clamored to come. We… we had no choice.”

Lin Yuchan was delighted, quickly grabbing the fleeing painter: “Come back, I’ll go borrow some stools!”

Lin Yuchan’s small stone gate rental house opened a temporary painting workshop. With a dozen women coming and going, painted tinplate cans quickly piled up like a small mountain.

Elegant flower and bird paintings as the base, with gold-traced “Boya” trademark on the side. Behind were several lines of English advertising – “Premium,” “Selected,” “Fragrant,” and other fine words.

The reason for English was that all the women were illiterate, only able to embroider auspicious phrases like “Fortune, Prosperity, Longevity” from experience. Having them copy other Chinese characters would be like making ducks climb trees – what they produced would look worse than beginning students’ writing. English was much simpler to copy.

This also fit Lin Yuchan’s aesthetic perfectly, sparing her from trypophobia.

As for Chinese advertising copy, she could find a printer to print it out and put it inside the cans.

Of course, the finished products were initially uneven in quality. Lin Yuchan had to swallow her pride and strictly screen them.

“This pile of cans can’t be paid for – consider it practice for everyone. I’ll cover the material costs. Auntie…”

Naturally some aunties were dissatisfied. Wu Yang had said payment would be given for painting – they couldn’t be deceived!

The resentment of a dozen lane aunties was no joke. Lin Yuchan didn’t dare draw hatred casually, so she had a brainstorm and appointed Wu Yang as “quality control.”

Taking one of the cans she’d initially painted well as the standard, anything below this level wouldn’t be accepted.

This way, most of the conflict was transferred.

Then she spot-checked. If Wu Yang mistakenly approved an unqualified tea can, the corresponding wages would be deducted.

There were inevitably some arguments. Lin Yuchan, a teenage girl, couldn’t suppress women in their forties and fifties.

She could only insist: “This is my employer’s requirement. If we don’t meet these standards, I’ll have to pack up and leave, too, and nobody will make money.”

Finally directing the hatred toward the never-seen Rong Hong, the aunties finally settled down, uniting against the common enemy, working with Lin Yuchan to figure out how to efficiently satisfy the capitalists.

…

When Shopkeeper Mau saw the hand-painted tinplate cans Lin Yuchan brought and heard the cost price, his eyes went wide.

“Which painting master did Miss hire? Could you introduce them to this humble person…”

Lin Yuchan smiled without speaking. She wouldn’t make connections for others for free.

This embroidery pattern workshop was temporarily her secret.

Rong Hong soon secured the loan. Silver was loaded onto ships in batches, preparing to depart for another risky venture.

Lin Yuchan made time to see him off at the dock.

She didn’t need to come. But she was truly curious about how much space ten thousand taels of silver would take up.

Actually, in the late Qing period, moneylenders and banks were already quite common. Businessmen doing big deals were also accustomed to “remote deposits and withdrawals,” not needing to carry so much cash.

But Rong Hong’s business this time was in a war zone. Even if there were banks in Taiping Heavenly Kingdom territory, how would they honor Qing Dynasty funds?

So they had to use the most primitive method, also the most popular method in film and TV: moving silver.

Of course, she couldn’t see the gleaming silver. But she saw that Yixing’s express boats, which usually floated lightly at the dock, now sat deep in the water, pulled by trackers upstream heavily, stirring up muddy lines, like boat-shaped stones.

She couldn’t help clicking her tongue, feeling quite ashamed of her former obsession with ancient CEO novels where characters “casually threw out a thousand taels of silver.”

She didn’t dare think – would she see this much money a second time in her life?

Rong Hong was dressed as a traveler, smiling as he asked: “Miss Lin, do you want any souvenirs this time?”

Lin Yuchan thought to herself, I’d like Hong Xiuquan’s autograph, but I’d probably be arrested by the authorities before it cooled in my hands.

Moreover, this time Rong Hong wasn’t going by invitation but on his initiative. He probably couldn’t request an escort from Taiping Heavenly Kingdom’s “elite troops,” but with a “Heavenly Kingdom” stamped passport, he could still ask garrison forces everywhere for convenience.

Lin Yuchan said earnestly, “I don’t want gifts. Please be extremely careful on the road and return safely. If there’s any wind of war, please detour far around…”

Rong Hong puffed a ring of cigar smoke and smiled: “It’s not the first time I’m going. I naturally know this. But thank you for your concern, Miss.”

Lin Yuchan thought that was also true, lowering her head embarrassedly.

For a natural adventurer like Rong Hong, her “be careful” was as redundant as “drink more hot water.”

Rong Hong suddenly remembered something else: “By the way, those four thousand jin of tea are almost finished, right? I’ve already urged Manager Chang and the staff to sell quickly – I have bonuses when I return. But I’m afraid they’re habitually lazy. If sales are dismal when I return… please lend a hand, don’t let your hard work rot on my shelves.”

Lin Yuchan immediately expressed her position: “No problem, I’ll do my best!”

Rong Hong thanked her and boarded the ship.

Lin Yuchan turned around, feigning surprise.

“Oh my, Boss Su.”

Su Minguan was leaning against the mast, handsome and elegant, quietly watching her talk with Rong Hong the whole time. Only when he heard her say “no problem, I’ll do my best” without hesitation did he finally sigh and shake his head almost imperceptibly.

This silly girl would suffer losses if not watched carefully, agreeing to do good deeds for free again.

He beckoned her over, planning to scold her a bit.

But Lin Yuchan just laughed, waved at him instead, and said goodbye.

When Rong Hong asked her for help, she did think of setting a price at first; but then she reconsidered. People have different personalities. Rong Hong was honest and trustworthy by nature. If she really helped, he would make appropriate compensation without reminding – no need for ugly words up front. How heartless that would be.

Seeing her actually disobey and not come over, Helmsman Su’s face darkened, and he had to condescend to jump ashore himself.

“I’ve arranged everything at Yixing. Normal business will continue while I’m away, don’t worry.” He said quietly. “However, several Heaven and Earth Society members from Guangdong are homeless and willing to come seek refuge. I’ve already sent word asking them to come. Shanghai has many refugees and chaotic household registration – best to fish in troubled waters. I’ve found some connections recently. Money can buy new identities. Uncle Cheng should arrive soon. If they’re unfamiliar with the environment, please help look after them.”

Lin Yuchan smiled brilliantly, saying without hesitation: “No problem, leave it to me.”

Su Minguan bowed slightly, making a listening gesture, waiting for her to continue.

Lin Yuchan: “Take care, goodbye.”

Su Minguan: “…”

Kindly reminding: “Agreeing so readily, seems you enjoy being exploited by me? Then let me make a few more demands…”

Lin Yuchan smiled: “I’m a one-twenty-fifth shareholder of Yixing. When the boat company has business, it’s my responsibility. No need to set prices.”

Su Minguan couldn’t help shaking his head with a bitter smile. She was getting into character.

She probably hadn’t realized yet that the more responsibility she took on now, the more power she’d have to share later. If she continued being this active, in a few years, the Heaven and Earth Society’s Guangdong branch might well be surnamed Lin.

Su Minguan sighed inwardly, looking at the dark clouds in the sky, feeling the ancestral master’s thunder was hidden there, watching him ready to strike.

He patted the little girl’s shoulder: “Did you bring an umbrella? Be careful of slippery roads going back.”

She was dressed as a young man today, just a bit thin but no flaws. From a distance in the dock filled with his people, they just looked like good brothers.

Lin Yuchan also said with concern: “This journey will be hard for you, um…”

Words like “be careful” were even more unnecessary to say to him. But sanitary conditions were poor in this era, and he was going to a war zone. The young master had been pampered since childhood. Even though he’d fallen to commoner status, he still retained many willful dietary and hygiene habits. In big cities, it was manageable, but in rural areas, his stomach would probably suffer for a while.

So she said, “Watch your diet. Don’t eat randomly when hungry. Don’t get sick.”

She pulled out a box of Western butter candy from her bag, smiling as she stuffed it into his hands.

Su Minguan looked at her with surprise, then at the tin box in his hands. The smile in his eyes suddenly turned somewhat bitter.

He often heard perfunctory words of fake concern, but it seemed that since his family’s ruin, no one remembered that he liked sweets.

He bit his lip, said nothing, turned, and jumped back onto the ship.

Lin Yuchan still had half a sentence left unsaid, left hanging there by him, a bit dazed.

“…Don’t get sick, or there’ll be no one to teach me…”