Before Jin Lanhe’s deathbed, those barely coherent dying wishes—he had personally promised them word by word.

To overthrow the Qing, to restore the Ming, to retake Guangzhou Prefecture, to ally with foreigners when necessary, to be as vigorous and spectacular as the Taiping Army…

Su Minguan sadly discovered that he seemed to have accomplished none of these so far.

Of course, he could blame it on the unpredictability of worldly affairs. The entire Guangdong Province had been completely taken over by government troops, with one accident after another. But the indisputable fact was that he had dragged that heavy inheritance and turned to walk down a crooked path filled with evil winds and noxious influences.

Suddenly, there was a soft, crisp sound beside his ear. He gently rubbed his eyes and found Lin Yuchan was busy at work.

She had already slipped out of his embrace. Her face wasn’t so pale anymore, her emotions had mostly adjusted, and she had mustered courage to pick up the flintlock rifle again, wiped it clean, and was trying to figure out a more comfortable shooting posture on her own.

First, she rested the gun on the fort ruins, then shook her head, found an empty spot, and simply lay down on the ground, piling up stones to prop up the gun barrel, squinting to aim—he had no idea how she came up with this fantastical posture. But after watching her seriously gesture for a while, she discovered this way made loading impossible—current flintlock rifles required the barrel to be upright when loading, completely impossible to do from a prone position.

She could only get up disappointedly.

“Master Xiao Bai,” seeing him lost in thought for so long, she tugged at his sleeve and asked actively, “Are we still practicing today?”

Su Minguan asked casually: “You’re not afraid anymore?”

“Even if I’m afraid, I still have to learn.” Lin Yuchan smiled, finally noticing his absent-mindedness. “What’s wrong? Do you have business to attend to?”

Su Minguan smiled gloomily, wanting to tell a joke to change the subject, but found his wit completely dried up. All that swirled in his mind were those oaths he had sworn.

He suddenly grew serious: “I won’t hide it from you—I’ve found a foreign merchant connection. Flintlock rifles like this, as long as there’s money, I can buy as many as I want. A’Mei, tell me, should I go attack Shanghai County town, or go attack the concession? Right now, both government troops and foreigners are complacent—a surprise attack might have a good chance of success.”

Lin Yuchan was startled and quickly raised her hand to feel his forehead temperature. Not feverish.

Instead, his cheeks were ice-cold, his brow full of worry.

“Who gave you this terrible advice?” she asked warily. “It couldn’t be an undercover agent sent by government troops, could it?”

Su Minguan smiled bitterly, knowing these words were too foolish, but still couldn’t help pouring them out sentence by sentence.

“I… I just think that recently I’ve only focused on making money and recruiting subordinates, neglecting the real business. The founding patriarch must be furious.”

“What real business?”

“…Real business befitting my status.”

Lin Yuchan understood instantly, yet found it inexplicable.

This wasn’t his usual level of thinking.

She asked: “You think attacking cities and seizing territory is real business?”

Su Minguan thought to himself, it’s not that I think so, it’s that they want me to think so…

Suddenly feeling irritated and confused, he said: “Let’s go.”

He bent down to pack up the firearms.

Lin Yuchan wouldn’t let him leave. This person was abnormal today. If he returned to Shanghai like this, the “Guangdong-Guangxi Hometown Association” would be in jeopardy.

Just staying alive wasn’t easy. For someone as rarely clearheaded as him, staying alive was even harder. How practical it was to focus on making money—why must he create trouble for himself?

She pushed him to sit on the broken cannon emplacement base. The cannon had long been dismantled, leaving dents on the stone bricks where the cannon barrel had pressed.

“What was the original purpose of establishing the Heaven and Earth Society?” she asked.

Su Minguan was slightly startled. He had simplified the “initiation oath” procedures, but she shouldn’t be ignorant of even this.

He traced the rough stones with his fingertips, quickly scanned the surroundings to confirm only birds and water crabs were present, then patiently said: “Overthrow the Qing and restore the Ming…”

“Wrong.”

The little girl used a tone of lecturing him. “It was to free the people from Manchu tyrannical oppression, to seek welfare for the people. That’s the goal. Overthrowing the Qing and restoring the Ming is just the means. Why did the Heaven and Earth Society have such a mass base a hundred years ago? Because it provided shelter for all the oppressed people under heaven who harbored resistance, not serving as a private army for Zheng Chenggong or some surnamed Zhu.”

Su Minguan stared at her pale red lips opening and closing, pondering those unfamiliar terms.

“Mass base” again—who knows which foreign dock she picked that up from?

Though it wasn’t the first time he’d heard it. Not hard to understand either.

Not only because of his natural intelligence. In contemporary Europe, vigorous worker movements were in full swing, Parisians were repeatedly revolting, the first draft of “Das Kapital” was complete, and the First International was about to emerge.

Theories that seemed advanced by over a hundred years had matured—they belonged to “contemporary thought trends.”

There was no time gap or generation gap with the Chinese, only an ocean in between.

Although there were still some years before the era when “advanced thought trends entered China” according to history books, in the vast sea of time, who dared guarantee that before the first translated edition was published, these concepts had never been proclaimed on Chinese soil?

The Qing seemed closed and backward, but when its people began to open their eyes to see the world, the impact was enough to break all mental barriers. Foreign words and books of varying quality were translated chaotically—just walking around any dock could teach one some incomprehensible new fashions. People were like those dressing randomly in the second and eighth lunar months, paradoxically more likely to accept wholesale those seemingly preposterous things.

Even if Lin Yuchan told him about aliens now, he could probably guess along with her how many eyes they had.

But currently, he had no time to digest this. A clear spring rushed through his parched soul, fleeting, washing out completely new soil.

His emotions didn’t show as he lifted his eyelids and said flatly: “So?”

Lin Yuchan carefully finished one sentence, seeing he didn’t seem to regard her as a monster, boldly continued.

“So, to achieve a goal, multiple means can be used—no need to hang oneself on one method.

“Whatever you do now, as long as it seeks welfare for people, as long as it doesn’t go against conscience, it’s real business.

“Within the ‘Hometown Association’ range, no gangs dare harass people, everyone helps each other make a living, has a backbone when things happen, suffers less extortion and exploitation—isn’t this exactly what you described, the appearance of the Heaven and Earth Society from hundreds of years ago? Except for lacking a slogan, everything else returns to its original nature. Your founding patriarch in heaven should find it familiar.

“Comrade Xiao Bai, you must distinguish between primary and secondary contradictions.”

Since he wanted to hear her views, she spoke truthfully. Back then facing Hede she dared improvise essays, not afraid of being considered abnormal.

She looked at him nervously. Su Minguan half-lowered his eyes, gaze sweeping the surrounding greenery, the arc of his eye corners growing softer, his pressed lips gradually relaxing, curving into a barely perceptible smile.

After a long while, he raised his hand, gently dabbing the sweat beads on his cheek with his sleeve, smiling at her with curved eyes.

“Mm, I think so too,” he said easily.

Lin Yuchan: “…”

That little scoundrel had even learned to put on airs! Did he pay copyright fees for that “you think”?!

He laughed heartily, emerging from that old dead end, bending to shake out the bundle and grab the foreign rifle inside.

“Let’s continue. It’ll get hot soon.”

Lin Yuchan quickly agreed. But this time she didn’t dare be too enthusiastic, treating that gun barrel like a venomous snake ready to strike, carefully lifting it up and looking at him inquiringly.

“No firing today.” Su Minguan put away the gunpowder pouch. “Start with stance. If you want to avoid injury, your whole body can’t be slack.”

She obediently stood at attention according to his instructions.

Sunlight shot out from the layered clouds, slanting across her ear, making half her face burn hot. It felt even more like military training.

But she didn’t balk long. Su Minguan intentionally or unintentionally stood at her diagonal rear, blocking the sun for her.

Simply a model instructor.

Su Minguan bent down to examine her from head to toe, discovering this girl was surprisingly talented, standing properly, probably having watched foreign rifle soldiers drill plenty in the concession.

(Actually, from watching too many blockbusters on TV)

He only lightly straightened her shoulders, his fingers suddenly tracing over those shallow shoulder blades, pausing there for a while.

…Was this too intimate?

Fragrant, soft girls always made people want to get close. However, normally, he could control himself, rarely distracted by stray thoughts. Once he noticed emotions affecting judgment, he could always withdraw in time, refocusing on more important matters.

But today, perhaps because her words had lashed him too severely, he felt somewhat aimless, emotions churning, wanting to grasp something.

It was only because there was no one around now. If there had been a village within a five li radius, he wouldn’t have had such improper thoughts.

Unconsciously, his chin came to rest behind her ear, forgetting what to “correct” next, his gentle breath making her tremble all over.

Lin Yuchan couldn’t help turning her head slightly, sensing something wasn’t quite right. His motionless mind-wandering was one thing, but why was his current posture… so perfectly fitting the definition of “intimate whispering”?

Report, this instructor is neglecting his duties!

She moved her shoulders, lightly licked her dry lips, thinking how to gently remind him.

Suddenly, her ear grew hot as Su Minguan, almost pressed against her earlobe, asked in a magnetic voice:

“What are primary contradictions?”

Lin Yuchan wanted to cry without tears: “…”

It had been a year since the college entrance exam, so why was someone still testing her?

She’d almost forgotten everything!

She twisted out of his grasp, bent to pick up the flintlock rifle, forcefully lifted it, and took it upon herself to adjust the teaching progress.

“Teach me how to hold the gun without getting hurt.”

Su Minguan’s eyelashes fluttered once, his expression much calmer, smiling slightly.

“Easy enough. The trick is to brace the stock firmly…”

He supported that heavy gun stock, forcefully pressing it against her shoulder—

Lin Yuchan couldn’t help crying “ah,” involuntarily shrinking back, saying pitifully: “It hurts.”

Only then did he notice that the earlier impact had hit her quite hard. It looked like shoulder bruising was inevitable, and since she was small with a small frame, the gun stock had also knocked her chin when it recoiled. It hadn’t shown before, but looking carefully now, there was a red mark on her cheek, though not bleeding, it was quite noticeable.

Now he was flustered, all thoughts of “primary contradictions” thrown out of mind.

“What happened to your face?”

Lin Yuchan touched it herself, only then realizing it seemed to hurt a bit. Seeing his panic, she instead comforted: “It’s nothing, it’ll be fine in two days.”

This little pain was nothing. In the past, working like an ox at the tea shop, bumps and scrapes were common, and when unlucky, she’d even get slapped—much more painful than this.

Su Minguan was deeply remorseful. How could he use his own experience to teach a little girl? He prided himself on being shrewd—how had he not foreseen this result?

He thought nothing of using guns to intimidate big thugs, so how had he injured her?

Things had come to this point, he couldn’t maintain his dignified facade anymore, sincerely bowing to her: “I’m sorry.”

Then quietly seeking her opinion:

“Let me take a look.”

She lifted her face, feeling he was making a big fuss over nothing.