At some point, the private room had fallen silent. The aunties playing mahjong, seeing the two “hit it off,” had all quietly left according to their prior agreement!

Lin Yuchan got a complete look at the matchmaking procedures in modern Shanghai’s alleyways.

Honestly, it already showed signs of free love—truly a pioneer city of the times.

Only this “freedom” had quite a margin of error!

She weakly greeted: “Manager Chang, please come in first. There’s a group of aunties watching from outside.”

Chang Baoluo walked closer with a red face, glancing at Lin Yuchan, then at the mahjong table, then at Lin Yuchan again, his lips trembling slightly, clearly quite shocked.

Since Lin Yuchan was just here as a guest performer anyway, she only felt amused and curious. She poured him tea and asked softly, “Weren’t you about to get married? What happened? Did she dump you?”

Chang Baoluo occasionally acted lovestruck at work, often mentioning saving money for marriage—everyone was used to it. But out of politeness, no one had asked for specific details.

Chang Baoluo drank that tea, far inferior to what Lin Yuchan brewed, so bitter it made him frown.

“I am getting married.” His round face showed complex emotions as he said methodically, “My whole family is Christian. Ordinary families are unwilling to marry us, and I don’t fancy the girls the church introduces. A while back, my neighbor told me about a modern young lady seeking a husband, no father or brothers, seventeen years old by traditional count, pretty, can speak foreign languages, can earn money, unfortunately, she was previously engaged and has unbound feet. I said I didn’t mind, as long as she was a good person. So they set us up, saying the woman was very satisfied with my conditions.”

Lin Yuchan jumped up in fright: “I’m not, I didn’t, they’re talking nonsense…”

“I was also foolish, believed it was true, thought I was really in love. I wrote her a whole notebook of poems, never even met her face to face, and started planning a modern wedding…”

Chang Baoluo smiled bitterly, pulling out a small notebook from his chest.

“Mrs. Su Lin… oh no, Miss Lin, please do me the honor of reading them.”

Lin Yuchan’s toes curled into the ground, carving out a Forbidden City. She felt the awkwardness in the private room overflow to the heavens, with every mahjong tile secretly laughing.

She chose her words carefully and said quietly: “Your acquaintances aren’t reliable. I… I haven’t been looking around for a husband. Today I was dragged here by my landlord because I couldn’t refuse. Before this, no one had mentioned matchmaking to me. If anyone took money or gifts from you during this period under the pretense of matchmaking, you must demand them back—you can’t be swindled for nothing.”

Chang Baoluo was startled and shook his head.

“Miss, you’re overthinking. I did give a small introduction fee, not much, definitely not fraud… Everyone was purely helping out of goodwill, really…”

Lin Yuchan thought sarcastically: Pure goodwill.

She suddenly understood where the key to this mix-up lay. When the landlord’s mother-in-law and daughter-in-law mentioned several times about helping her find a second spring, she had either been evasive or gently refused, never crying, making a scene, or threatening suicide to clearly express her position.

According to their understanding, this was playing hard to get—it meant “wanting to find someone”!

In those days, women had little voice. In many situations, if they wanted to clearly express their opinions, they had to use extreme measures. Otherwise, they were easily ignored or arranged for.

Lin Yuchan had been in the Qing Dynasty for over a year, and the “generation gap” hadn’t been filled. With one careless moment, she was “represented” by enthusiastic aunties.

Since she “wanted to find someone,” they could naturally take complete charge. As for not explaining the man’s situation to her before hastily arranging a meeting…

In those days, so-called matchmaking was all about men choosing women; women had no right to be picky. Today’s “modern matchmaking,” where the woman could “leave if she wasn’t interested,” was already considered excessively free.

But fortunately, nothing was lost. Instead, she gained considerable insight.

She smiled awkwardly, trying to smooth things over: “The tea here isn’t bad.”

But Chang Baoluo remained absent-minded, looking down at his starched and pressed long robe, then at the poetry notebook on the table, then half-lifting his head to peek at Lin Yuchan’s hands holding the teacup.

After all, she was the girl he’d “admired” for so long. After work, he’d been at home fantasizing about sweet married life, getting too deep into character to easily pull out.

By later definitions, he was essentially in an “online relationship.” Online relationships weren’t inferior—they could produce true love, too.

Now the online relationship was meeting reality, discovering he’d fallen for a coworker. Though a bit awkward, it didn’t count as “heartbreak.”

He stole glances at the girl across from him. Previously, he’d only thought of her as Rong Hong’s niece, following suit in treating her as a junior, calling her “little girl,” never considering her as an ordinary “woman of marriageable age.”

Today, he suddenly discovered she was quite pretty and pleasant-looking. Though different from the image he’d conjured in his mind, but…

“Online relationships” were like this! Girls were born of parents, not molded from templates—how could they grow entirely according to his preferences?

Even some details of her nose and eyes were more stunning than he’d imagined.

He wasn’t a shallow person who judged by appearance—he sought a wife for mutual support and raising children. Before today’s meeting, he’d prepared himself psychologically: even if the girl’s appearance didn’t meet his expectations, as long as she was honest, he’d propose.

If Lin Yuchan had been a stranger, he should have been overjoyed at first sight.

Chang Baoluo’s face turned red, then white, white then red. Finally gathering courage, he said: “Miss Lin, actually…, my conditions, those aunties should have told you about them. We’ve known each other for quite a while, saving us the time of getting acquainted…”

Lin Yuchan set down her teacup and said seriously: “I’m sorry, I haven’t…”

The words “come of age” were finally swallowed back at the cliff’s edge, changed to: “I haven’t thought about finding a husband. And I won’t in the future.”

This time, she dared not “gently refuse” again—if she was taken for playing hard to get again, that would be trouble.

Though Chang Baoluo’s “sunk costs” were too high, she still had to advise him to cut his losses quickly. She deeply regretted this but was powerless to help.

Lin Yuchan: “There’s no room for discussion, I’m sorry.”

Chang Baoluo bit his lip and lowered his head.

Seeing Lin Yuchan’s usual behavior, he knew she wasn’t the shy, marriage-eager type. Hearing her direct rejection, all hope was extinguished, leaving him dejected.

He was naturally a mild-tempered person who cared about his face. Coming to this “modern matchmaking” today had already taken all his courage.

He wiped his sweat, fingers unconsciously gripping the smooth table edge, making another effort: “You could read the poems I wrote…”

Many people today think “ancient people” married in their teens and must have all been precocious. But having lived deeply in the Qing Dynasty for so long, Lin Yuchan found this not necessarily accurate: ancient women who married early, bore children early, and managed households early were indeed precocious, but men weren’t necessarily so. Due to surplus men and huge wealth gaps, plus wealthy gentlemen monopolizing many female resources with multiple wives and concubines, ordinary commoners found marriage difficult. Bachelors were rampant, with many single men remaining until middle age without relationships beyond nodding acquaintance with women their age.

Even young men from well-off families like Chang Baoluo probably hadn’t made many female friends growing up.

Though a man in his twenties who usually cut a fine figure at the foreign trading house, today’s performance was eye-opening—to Lin Yuchan, he seemed like a teenage boy in first love.

In comparison, Lin Yuchan felt she was worldly and should clean up this mess.

“Mr. Chang, I’m sorry. Just consider that you weren’t interested today. If others ask, say I was unwilling to convert to Christianity—incompatible beliefs. Then no one will dare say anything more. I wish you marital bliss in the future.”

She smiled, “Goodbye. See you Monday.”

She got up and left like a whirlwind.

Since the “matchmaking” had failed anyway and the aunties would surely be disappointed, let her be the villain.

Golden bachelor Chang Baoluo was left alone at the mahjong table, restlessly flipping mahjong tiles, stacking up eight circles, then building up sparrows. Finally, sighing deeply, he swept all the tiles into chaos.

This episode quickly turned the page. Chang Baoluo was quite cooperative, following her suggested explanation. In the following days, when the landlord’s mother-in-law and daughter-in-law saw Lin Yuchan, their faces were written with “what a pity,” but they didn’t make things difficult for her.

Through roundabout questioning, Lin Yuchan finally learned that the two aunties had been so eager to matchmake because someone had treated them to a meal, and in their cups, they’d boasted extravagantly, leading to the hasty matchmaking. After this farce, they were laughed at by their alley girlfriends and fought with the person who’d treated them to dinner.

Lin Yuchan again seriously expressed her intention to “remain chaste.” Not daring to do things like crashing into walls or hanging herself, she could only put on a stern face and hide in her room, deliberately not coming down to eat for a day to show her heartbreak.

(Of course, she’d already hidden snacks in her room)

Mrs. Wu Yang could only sigh.

“Little lady, don’t be disappointed. Auntie will keep an eye out for you in the future. Sigh, that young man was quite good, so rare.”

The Qing Dynasty still had mostly “normal people.” With the aunties’ simple social networks, to encounter another modern young man like Chang Baoluo, who neither minded second marriages nor cared about unbound feet, who knew when that would happen.

Lin Yuchan rested peacefully for two days, then began work.

First, she made several trips to Xuhui Tea Shop, negotiating long-term cooperation contracts and establishing new work procedures.

Seeing the large order, Shopkeeper Mao was naturally overjoyed, but wasn’t carried away by joy. He still clutched his abacus and negotiated prices with her for half a day—this was only because of the “Hometown Association” that he treated her as a normal business opponent, looking at her as an equal.

Lin Yuchan naturally made few concessions too. When they deadlocked over the final few dozen taels of silver, with half the masters and workers from Xuhui Tea Shop coming to help argue, Lin Yuchan faced many opponents. While she claimed to be completely unfazed, that would be unrealistic.

A thought flashed through her mind: if only she had an assistant to play good cop, bad cop when necessary—that would be much more convenient…

“Shopkeeper Mao, business situations change rapidly, as you know. Boya Trading House’s tea now has quite a reputation, and this ‘goodwill’ is worth much more than before. I’m here today representing Boya’s owner, Mr. Rong, and seeing your quoted price…”

While arguing her case, from the corner of her eye she glimpsed a pair of round eyes curiously watching her debate against the crowd through a crack in the back room door.

Lin Yuchan’s mind stirred as she smiled and called: “Little girl.”

The Mao family’s little girl, Mao Shunniang, bashfully walked out and curtsied to all the uncles.

Previously she hadn’t dared come out, only daring to guard her spittoon and embroider handkerchiefs alone. But watching this Miss Lin come and go from shops, her every movement generous and spirited, Mao Shunniang was influenced by proximity and her face gradually thickened.

Shopkeeper Mao was too embarrassed to chase her away, frantically winking at his daughter.

Lin Yuchan warmly embraced the little girl and chatted with her.

Shopkeeper Mao had no choice but to wave away those helping workers and masters. A young girl shouldn’t be surrounded by so many men watching.

Seeing the space around them now empty with only Shopkeeper Mao remaining, the pressure on Lin Yuchan suddenly decreased, and her state improved somewhat.

She asked Mao Shunniang softly: “Do you like making tea?”

Shunniang shyly nodded, looking at her father.

Lin Yuchan said to Shopkeeper Mao, “This child has talent. The last time I was stir-frying tea, she helped me and was very useful. I never properly thanked her, and thinking about it now, I feel quite sorry…”

Though Mao Shunniang was small, her heart was honest. She immediately reminded quietly, “You bought me xiaolongbao!”

Lin Yuchan: “…”

This “temporary assistant” lacked field experience and contradicted her.

She pretended not to hear and continued to Shopkeeper Mao: “I don’t dare boast about other things, but for the tea-sifting step, the little girl has sharp eyes, better than many old masters. With her working speed, she could handle one-third of the sifting work. Shopkeeper, I’ll outsource this one-third to a little girl at one qian silver per hundred jin, half the cost of your masters’ wages. This way, the total price can be reduced to the figure I proposed.”

Shopkeeper Mao was startled, looking at his daughter, then at Lin Yuchan, shaking his head repeatedly with a cold tone.

“This humble person doesn’t understand Miss’s meaning.”

Having his daughter work was already quite improper, and paying only half wages?

Lin Yuchan smiled: “Don’t worry, Shopkeeper, this is just one method to reduce the total price. I can pay little girl’s wages directly to her as her dowry fund, not entering the contract, no need to pay taxes, no need to count toward your shop’s sales, and no need to participate in profit-sharing…”

Little girl understood none of this completely, only hearing: “Father, sifting one hundred jin of tea earns one qian silver! I can sift one hundred jin in a day!”

She couldn’t sell one qian silver worth of embroidered handkerchiefs to supplement the family in a whole month!

Of course, “one hundred jin per day” was peak performance—if Mao Shunniang produced such results every day, her back would be ruined.

But momentarily excited, she couldn’t calculate so carefully. Besides, even fifty jin per day was much better than embroidery.

Shopkeeper Mao sucked his teeth, examining Lin Yuchan in amazement.

True, employing his daughter, though the price was a bit low, but… using a woman from the family, according to custom, didn’t need to go through the books.

Using proper masters from the tea shop, though piece wages were higher, wouldn’t entirely go into his pocket either.

Though Shopkeeper Mao had the say at Xuhui Tea Shop, he’d only invested half the capital. When money was earned, half had to be shared with others.

This didn’t count additional taxes, additional management costs…

Moreover, little girl’s earnings, though Lin Miss said they were for her dowry fund, still came under family control, just like money she earned embroidering handkerchiefs—that was 100% pure income!

Shopkeeper Mao glanced around to confirm no one was present, then said quietly: “Miss, isn’t this a bit… against the rules?”

“It’s not illegal.” Lin Yuchan smiled. “I’m a woman, little girl is too. Women helping women weave cloth, embroider flowers, and watch children—all acceptable. Why can’t we help stir-fry tea? What’s wrong with giving some hard work money? Fair, reasonable, and aboveboard.”

Anyway, her psychological price point was set—she wouldn’t pay even one more tael of silver.

She was showing Shopkeeper Mao a gray-area path—whether he’d take it was up to him.

Mao Shunniang was eager on the side, looking hopefully at her father.

Shopkeeper Mao remained troubled, tapping his brush on the inkstone, saying quietly: “If peers found out about this…”

“First, we can add confidentiality clauses to the contract—I certainly won’t spread it around. Second, even if peers wanted to copy this, would they have tea-making daughters in their families, and would they let them come out for employment?”

Shopkeeper Mao’s expression relaxed, touching his bald head and smiling slyly: “They certainly wouldn’t.”

The contract was made in duplicate and sealed with fingerprints.

Lin Yuchan: “Little girl, come on, I’ll treat you to fresh meat xiaolongbao.”

The second step was restarting her aunties’ tea can production line. After the recent matchmaking incident, the landlord’s mother-in-law and daughter-in-law had lost face among neighbors and urgently needed to recover it.

Therefore, though they complained about Lin Yuchan for several days, their dissatisfaction dissipated within days. When Lin Yuchan mentioned “more new painting orders,” Mrs. Wu Yang actively spread the word, using her previous income as an example, guaranteeing the sisters would earn money and could make themselves two more new outfits by year’s end, buy bracelets and such, without asking their husbands for money.

This time, over twenty aunties and ladies were recruited. The main room of the stone-gate house wasn’t sufficient, so Lin Yuchan surveyed nearby lanes for half a day and rented an empty house, previously occupied by a foreign missionary who had unauthorized ventured into non-mission areas to preach, was robbed by bandits, and dismembered. When his remains were returned to the consulate, foreign warships immediately mobilized, training massive cannons on Wusong mouth. Finally, Shanghai County officials took turns apologizing and paid huge compensation to avoid bloody retaliation.

Therefore, this missionary’s former residence was also considered unlucky by the surrounding people and had remained empty.

Lin Yuchan spent little effort renting this house at almost a fraction of the market price.

Actually, with her current cash savings, she could completely buy property of this scale. Unfortunately, during the Qing period in Shanghai, getting rich through real estate speculation was impossible. After the Opium Wars, under successive bombardments of various unequal treaties, Shanghai’s concessions had long deprived Chinese people of actual land ownership rights—Chinese could only rent houses, not buy land. Even after Shanghai opened as a port and housing prices soared, the beneficiaries were all foreigners.

Lin Yuchan spared no expense, requesting several groups from nearby Buddhist temples, Taoist temples, Guandi temples, and City God temples to perform rituals for several days, setting off half a day’s worth of firecrackers. The Christian cross was removed from the wall and replaced with a circle of Chinese gods and Buddhas, considered “exorcism” for the house before it could successfully open.

Moreover, Lin Yuchan occasionally discovered that the alley aunties’ painting techniques were constantly improving. Initially, they painted stroke by stroke from the beginning like copying embroidery patterns; later, the aunties began dividing labor—some embroidered patterns on sturdy cloth, then cut out stencils by color, while others were responsible for filling in colors, further reducing the difficulty to kindergarten level. The patterns on cans were no longer satisfied with copying others. Popular embroidery styles from boudoirs, after gaining Lin Yuchan’s approval, were also categorically painted onto tea can packaging.

One artistic auntie, delayed by household matters, even had the wild idea of painting spring palace scenes…

Of course, Lin Yuchan hastily vetoed this: “Madam, if you published a book, I’d buy it, but let’s skip the tea cans. Though foreigners might like it, the authorities would inspect too!”

Finally came tea packaging matters—with such a large quantity of tea this time, Lin Yuchan planned to create five different packaging grades, ranging from tin cans to lacquered wooden boxes to ordinary pewter cans. Xuhui Tea Shop lacked sufficient storage but could help contact several upstream suppliers, as long as Lin Yuchan arranged shipping.

Not wanting benefits to flow to outsiders, Lin Yuchan immediately swallowed her bold words about “visiting Yixing less” and hurriedly ran to knock on their door.

“The boss isn’t in,” the usual worker opened the door. “Miss Lin, sorry, we’ll call him right away…”

Lin Yuchan quickly smiled: “No need, no need. Small order, doesn’t require his attention. Brother Peng, you can negotiate with me.”

Indeed, with Yixing’s current abundant cash flow, Boss Su’s dark history of “willing to sell labor to cut prices” never needed repeating. Yixing’s storefront was completely renovated, the tea in the reception room upgraded three grades, and even the stray dog at the door had fattened up considerably. Every floorboard seemed to spell “not short of money.”

Lin Yuchan figured her small order of a few hundred taels of silver for transporting tea cans probably didn’t catch their eye anymore.

All Yixing employees doing legitimate external business underwent strict training with first-class professional quality, all conducting business in a “recognize money, not people” style.

Shi Peng immediately switched to a business-like expression: “Miss, please come inside.”

Lin Yuchan noticed that when Shi Peng ground ink and wrote, his thin right hand occasionally trembled, and his thinking sometimes blanked out during conversation, after-effects of opium withdrawal.

Now the streets were full of opium dens, smoking opium as common as smoking cigarettes in later eras. Maintaining self-control to avoid relapse required enormous willpower.

Having experienced anti-drug education from childhood, Lin Yuchan couldn’t help but feel deep admiration for Shi Peng. Though negotiating with him was somewhat difficult, she still showed patience, explaining bit by bit.

“…Iron cans rust easily, lacquerware corrupts easily, waterproofing must be done well. Um, specific measures…”

Shi Peng asked: “Would waterproof cover cloth be enough?”

Lin Yuchan hesitated: “Enough… I suppose?”

Many things she was encountering for the first time, needing to explore from scratch. No one taught her about waterproofing during shipping.

She thought Brother Peng probably wouldn’t cheat her.

Just as she was about to nod, someone spoke behind her.

Use waterproof oil cloth and additional wooden box dividers. These are tea cans, right? Then can’t use camphor; keep dry charcoal in the hold to absorb moisture. Use the Zhoupu and Furong ships that returned to port yesterday—both just maintained, painted, definitely no leaks in water pipes or masts.”

Lin Yuchan suddenly turned around, beaming with joy.

“Professional!”

Su Minguan sat on the counter, his long legs swinging, toes almost touching the ground, smiling as he offered opinions.

Shi Peng quickly looked up: “Yes, yes.”

Su Minguan jumped down from the counter, grabbed the contract draft, and scanned it.

“All this together, add one tael of silver shipping cost per item.” He picked up the brush to add clauses. “Miss Lin, please review.”

Only then did he properly look at Lin Yuchan, his gaze skimming lightly across her chin and cheek like a dragonfly touching water, then settling generously on her outstretched hand, as if completely forgetting he’d ever taught her firearms practice.

He even seemed somewhat cold, his eyes completely free of ambiguity, displaying a standard professional smile.

Lin Yuchan took the contract draft. The clause details exceeded her knowledge scope—she could only optimistically think Boss Su probably wouldn’t cheat a shareholder.

She picked up the brush, pondered briefly, and didn’t sign.