When the last box of tea was delivered, Shopkeeper Mau bowed deeply to Lin Yuchan.

“This humble person once slighted Miss, but now dares not do so again. Miss is magnanimous and doesn’t hold grudges against small people. In the future, please help our shop by introducing more business.”

In the month-plus that Miss Lin had been coming, the masters in his tea shop had all greatly improved their skills, becoming much more particular about their work. The tea they roasted was quite different from before. When colleagues saw it, they kept asking if he’d hired a new master from Guangzhou’s Thirteen Hongs.

The Thirteen Hongs had been reduced to scattered ashes, yet their reputation still echoed across the land.

Many foreign merchants coming to China for the first time would first ask about the Thirteen Hongs. Learning they weren’t in Shanghai brought disappointment; learning they were completely defunct brought double disappointment; finally they’d unanimously request to work with trading houses that had connections to the Thirteen Hongs.

When geese pass they leave their call, when people pass they leave their reputation. To reach the ultimate level was exactly this.

Of course, these compliments contained exaggeration, but Shopkeeper Mau no longer dared show the slightest negligence toward this girl.

Mau Shun’niang also boldly came out – previously, she only dared appear when relieving herself, but after helping Lin Yuchan work for many days, her face had grown thick enough to dare run to the shop front to see new things, opening tea cans on the shelves one by one to smell.

Shopkeeper Mau loved his daughter deeply. At first, he’d scold a few words about her “never getting married,” but later just let her be, treating her like a little dog, only driving her back when customers came.

The little girl looked at Lin Yuchan hopefully: “Will you come do business again?”

Lin Yuchan saw through her little thoughts at a glance and smiled: “If I pass by your shop in the future, I’ll definitely come treat you to fresh meat xiaolongbao.”

Four thousand jin of beautifully packaged canned tea were placed on Boya Trading House’s shelves and warehouse as agreed.

After over a month of bustling work, the 220 silver dollars Rong Hong had given Lin Yuchan were almost spent. Calculating the accounts and deducting her daily expenses, only 8.5 silver dollars remained.

“Not little, quite a lot.” She lay on the small bed in her rental room, thinking. “Eight dollars fifty in a month and a half should beat 80% of Shanghai people. Be content.”

The first pot of gold from tea trading – 480 silver dollars, equivalent to about 340 taels of silver, of which 300 taels had been deposited at Yixing for “venture capital,” leaving her with 40-odd taels.

Adding those 8-plus dollars in labor fees, totaling over 40 taels of silver, the family savings of a well-off farming household.

Exactly how many taels it was, Lin Yuchan couldn’t say clearly. The current monetary system was chaotic, with silver from various institutions and periods, silver dollars of inconsistent purity from different countries and times, plus banknotes issued by foreign trading houses… counting them carefully gave one a headache. Only professional banks could make clean exchanges.

So Lin Yuchan couldn’t calculate exactly how much wealth she had in fractions and decimals – just a big pile of various currencies. She bought a lockable box and locked them all up to get on with work.

After working non-stop for so long, she planned to give herself a few days off, just lie around and do nothing.

When basic needs are met, one thinks of luxury. Lying there, she thought how wonderful it would be to soak in a bathtub and take a fragrant hot bath!

But she didn’t have those conditions yet.

Female protagonists in period dramas who casually had large bathtubs served to them belonged to the ruling oppressor class that urgently needed revolution. For a commoner like her to take a hot bath, just fetching and heating water was a major project, taking hours to do alone. Not to mention the cost of firewood and charcoal, more expensive than a day’s food.

So, how do women bathe nowadays?

The answer was, like men, they mostly didn’t…

Fortunately, Chinese women didn’t have strong body odor. In summer and during the New Year, they’d wipe their bodies with damp handkerchiefs in their chambers, called “wiping bath.” Particular women might wipe once a month, which was considered frequent.

Then wearing sachets and applying rouge was enough to make one feel fresh.

Someone like Lin Yuchan, who gave herself a cold water wipe almost daily and washed her hair every other day, was incomprehensible to ordinary people.

She even heard the landlord’s mother and daughter-in-law discussing: “Does she have a skin disease?”

Lin Yuchan was shocked by this logic. The next day, she “accidentally” didn’t close the door, letting the two aunties admire her arms and legs, and the rumor collapsed on its own.

While wiping, she muttered, “This family health method is so good. Wipe every day, and illnesses stay away. Haven’t caught a cold for three winters now…”

The door responded and was quietly closed.

The next day, she saw the landlord’s mother and daughter-in-law also began frequent wiping baths, and the two aunties were thick-skinned enough not to hide from her.

They even smiled and asked: “Su family young lady, do you want to go on blind dates? Auntie has a good young man here.”

Still thinking about this matter. Neighborhood committee aunties were born a century early.

She quickly said, “No need, thanks. I still want to remain faithful to my husband’s memory.”

Wu Yang smiled dismissively, seeming to think she was just being stubborn.

She asked again: “When will we have more orders for painting flowers on tea cans?”

Lin Yuchan quickly said, “I’ll notify you immediately when there are orders,” and went upstairs to lie down.

Vacation should look like vacation. Always worrying about business was too undignified.

But after lying around for two days, she couldn’t stay idle, very undignifiedly wondering how many cans of the exquisite canned tea stocked at Boya Trading House had been sold?

She pondered this question for an hour, finally unable to lie still. She changed into clean jacket and skirt and went out.

Boya Trading House stood quietly in the depths of Saigon Road. The ivy outside the small Western building had turned emerald green, and the surrounding garden was filled with floating fragrance. White and purple small flowers poked their heads out from the grass, welcoming the spring colors filling the city.

Lin Yuchan thought again that if this Western building could survive a hundred years without demolition and reach the internet age, it would be an influencer check-in spot.

Look at this deserted appearance – you wouldn’t even need to queue for check-in photos.

The clerks were as usual in the hall…

Not playing cards, but holding exquisite tea cans, looking left and right, clicking their tongues in praise.

Lin Yuchan vaguely heard Chang Baoluo saying: “The boss instructed that as long as we don’t waste it, we can drink a little – it’s also understanding the product situation… The instruction booklet is in the cans, let’s open them and read first…”

While the clerks were excitedly brewing tea, wind chimes tinkled lightly as Lin Yuchan pushed the door open.

Everyone was a bit embarrassed, holding teacups, neither up nor down.

Lin Yuchan greeted everyone and sat on her exclusive little sofa.

“Gentlemen, drink your tea. I just came to buy a toothbrush.”

Rong Hong had bought this tea at a good price. Even adding processing fees, the cost was far below market rates. His willingness to give it as employee welfare was understandable – how many cans could the clerks drink?

But the clerks didn’t think so. They all thought Lin Yuchan was Rong Hong’s distant relative, possibly sent to supervise.

But as a young girl, she naturally lacked authority. So Chang Baoluo used a tone for coaxing children:

“Little girl, you see, our trading house is in a remote location, and recently there are no holidays, so few foreigners come. As for the tea pricing, most Chinese can’t afford it either, so this is called ‘highbrow art that few appreciate.’ We sell slowly, sell slowly, haha.”

Tea was a so-called red ocean industry with the market already completely divided. Those big customers who made huge purchases – government offices, restaurants, teahouses, opium dens – had all been seized by established big tea houses and trading companies, impossible to break into them immediately. To open sales channels, besides using existing connections, one could only rely on retail first, slowly building a reputation.

Rong Hong had wide connections, but mostly scholars, not the kind of big commercial spenders. Recently, some of his friends had come to show support and placed small orders, but it was still a drop in the bucket. Most of the tea still needed to find its own sales methods.

Lin Yuchan smiled: “Before Mr. Rong departed, I got his permission to come here and learn. Don’t find me bothersome.”

Chang Baoluo was a mission school graduate, and several clerks were also fluent in English, far above the industry average. Wearing foreign cloth gowns with smoothly shaved foreheads, they were all respectable people walking on the street.

Naturally, they looked down on Lin Yuchan, this teenage grassroots girl. But everyone was cultivated, usually teasing her good-naturedly, going along with her, creating a harmonious atmosphere. Even when Lin Yuchan had gotten several hundred silver dollars from Rong Hong empty-handed last time, Manager Chang and the clerks only had some complaints but didn’t say anything bad about her.

Lin Yuchan reminded herself to maintain good relations with them and not keep damaging their face.

She deeply knew these gentlemen were just like Rong Hong in character – their hearts weren’t focused on making money. In terms of personal ability and knowledge, they all had aspects worth learning from.

As for herself, she was just forced by circumstances to develop a dedication to hard work, living more diligently than they did.

She pointed at a small row of shelves and said domineeringly, “I’m responsible for selling this shelf of tea. Mr. Rong said I get half a percent of sales.”

This was falsely conveying imperial edicts. But it was also industry unwritten rules. Even in later times when she worked part-time at supermarkets, star salespeople’s commissions were no less than this.

She calculated that if she could help Rong Hong sell tea, and if Boss Rong didn’t get it and treated her help as free, she’d ask Su Minguan to give a small reminder.

In any case, the tea she’d worked hard to roast couldn’t rot in this small Western building.

The clerks just thought she was playing around, smiling and letting her do as she pleased. Even if she complained to Rong Hong, what persuasive power could a young girl have? The boss had worked with them for years with deep friendship – could he fire them all?

Lin Yuchan occupied a sofa to sit and first observe how they did business. It was more comfortable than lying in her rental room anyway.

Sure enough, Saigon Road had sparse foot traffic today. A whole morning passed with only about a hundred foreigners and Chinese passing by. The Chinese wouldn’t enter Western buildings, and the foreigners were either in carriages or hurrying on business. Those who discovered this was an English-service “trading house” and curiously came in to patronize numbered only seven or eight.

Additionally, there were about ten foreigners who seemed to be regular customers, dropping by to chat with the boss when they had nothing else to do. Seeing Rong Hong wasn’t there, they’d familiarly take what they wanted, pay, and leave. Even if some noticed the tea, they’d only comment in surprise without showing much interest.

Chang Baoluo was recently in love, absent-minded all day long – of course, there was no free love atmosphere in this era. But his family was relatively open-minded. After getting his consent, they arranged blind dates for him, supplementing “parental arrangement.” The matchmaker praised the girl as having no equal in heaven or on earth. He hadn’t even met her face yet, but had already caught lovesickness, starting to contemplate writing love poems in English.

Chang Baoluo was currently pondering poetry when he suddenly looked up and said to Lin Yuchan with great world-weariness:

“Little girl, roasting tea is easy, selling tea is hard.”

Lin Yuchan’s competitive spirit arose as she smiled: “Let’s compete to see who sells the first can of tea today – hey, someone’s coming.”