Lin Yuchan was momentarily speechless, not knowing how to answer this question.

Although this suggestion was quite to her liking, but…

This wasn’t his business to manage either.

She climbed up the gangway, raised her head, and Su Minguan looked at her frankly, finishing the second half of his sentence.

“Otherwise, all the silver you’ve worked so hard to earn will belong to someone else. What a loss that would be.”

Lin Yuchan was stunned. She hadn’t considered this angle.

She thought, wouldn’t the money I earn belong to me?

“Never mind that people might look down on you,” Su Minguan’s voice was cold and detached, as if he were merely discussing insurance clauses with her, “never mind your low birth, unbound feet, having been a servant, and your current status as a widow—none of these compare to gleaming silver. For this money, matchmakers will knock on your doorstep in the future.”

The Suzhou River was busy with water transport. Around the river bend, another shipping fleet slowly approached, flying a gourd flag. The boat captain on deck waved to Su Minguan, as if greeting a colleague.

Su Minguan also waved back, casually making the “Heaven, Earth, Man” hand gesture.

That boat captain quickly made the “Heaven, Earth, Man” gesture in return, then cupped his hands again before ducking into the cabin.

The transportation industry was truly a good place for connections. The Heaven and Earth Society’s predecessor, who founded Shanghai’s Yixing, must have been a very insightful person.

Lin Yuchan collected her thoughts and focused, not daring to be careless, confirming again: “You’re saying that if I marry, my money won’t belong to me?”

Su Minguan was rather surprised: “This is common knowledge.”

Then he thought again—with her father being so hands-off, leaving her to learn human relationships and social customs entirely on her own, it was normal for some things to slip through the cracks.

He smiled: “Don’t you know quite a few aunties and ladies from the lanes? Go ask them.”

Young ladies from wealthy families could respectably keep some hard-to-transfer property and live with dignity in their in-laws’ homes, but for common people from small households, survival and eating were already problems. Once married, you were family—being so calculating would hurt feelings.

Various books on women’s virtues and family rules stipulated that dowries should be brought out for use by fathers-in-law and husbands—this was what made a good daughter-in-law.

Of course, contributing the dowry to support the husband’s family was also for the sake of improving future living standards. For instance, if a husband wanted to do some business to supplement the family income, or to support his studies through hardship, a wife’s strong support would benefit everyone when the husband returned with earnings or achieved scholarly success, wouldn’t it?

If a daughter-in-law hoarded her dowry without contributing a penny, it wouldn’t benefit her either. What opportunities did a woman managing household affairs indoors have to spend money? That money would just rot in the chest, wasted.

No one wanted to marry an iron rooster. Getting stuck with a stingy, unreasonable daughter-in-law would at best affect family relationships, at worst result in a good beating on the spot.

He used his gaze to trace this girl’s small frame, not believing she could outfight any man he knew.

He said in a low voice: “Working hard yourself, earning money that goes to another man… or perhaps he simply won’t let you go out and cause trouble. All these things you’re doing now would be shelved, the tea business and such… well, I could buy them at a low price.”

As he reached the last sentence, the corner of his mouth turned up, turning the previous string of serious warnings into a joke.

Lin Yuchan: “Dream on.”

She actually had a vague understanding of this custom, but having never personally participated in the Qing Dynasty’s marriage customs, her understanding was only fuzzy.

But today, Su Minguan’s clear reminder made her suddenly realize this was a prehistoric-sized pit.

She couldn’t help thinking that with this evil feudal marriage system as foundation, why would Boss Su worry about Yixing lacking money? Just trick a wealthy young lady and everything would be solved…

Su Minguan saw that her expression was off and chided with a smile: “What are you thinking about?”

She came back to her senses and said: “Then I… I’ll remain celibate.”

Su Minguan: “Jiangsu and Zhejiang don’t have this custom—no one recognizes it. Have you heard about Bao Youdi’s case?”

Lin Yuchan nodded. Last year, a celibate woman from Guangdong was harassed and molested by a bachelor. When the case went to the county office, she was directly sentenced to marry that bachelor. This case was promoted as an advanced example, with storytellers hired to turn it into a cautionary tale that was publicized throughout the county for quite a while, reminding every household that when daughters came of age, they should marry and not cause trouble.

Moreover, there was that insane “drowning in a pig cage” warning. Lin Yuchan didn’t dare risk her life, so this was just talk.

She forced a smile: “This Qing Dynasty doesn’t give people a way to live.”

Su Minguan untied the mooring rope, lowered the gangplank, and guided her back to shore, incidentally checking off the “customer visit” log hanging on the wooden post.

“A’Mei, don’t show your wealth. If others know your assets amount to several hundred taels of silver, they’ll use every means to seek marriage with you. When you’re schemed against, then, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He spoke very slowly, and when he reached the words “schemed against,” though his tone remained gentle, it inexplicably sent chills down one’s spine, full of threatening implications.

How many underhanded methods were contained in those two words didn’t need further explanation from him.

Lin Yuchan received the instruction with respect, saying sincerely: “Thank you.”

“This is sincere advice, given to you for free.” Su Minguan escorted her to the door, smiling lazily, “I don’t want to wake up one day to find my shipping company’s shareholder has changed to some unreasonable outsider pointing fingers at me.”

Lin Yuchan hurried to reassure him: “That’s impossible. I guarantee that even if I lose my mind and marry, I’ll only marry someone in the business.”

Su Minguan’s face darkened, and he was about to explode in anger when, from the corner of his eye, he caught sight of this girl keeping a straight face, barely suppressing a mischievous smile, looking at him with particular pure innocence.

He couldn’t help but reach out and pinch a strand of loose hair by her temple, tucking it behind her ear.

“A’Mei,” he finally said in a low voice, “if you want to find someone to rely on, I’ll point you toward a clear path that’s more reliable than marriage—Yixing’s accounting position is still vacant, and I’m currently handling it myself. I won’t shortchange you.”

Lin Yuchan said, “Mm.”

He always spoke with half his meaning hidden. After going in circles, he finally got to the point.

He probably started from hearing about her blind date, speculating that perhaps after struggling alone for these few months, she had finally grown tired and was retreating when faced with this cold and complex world.

So he reminded her that at Yixing, there was still a place where she could put aside her worries and earn money with her own hands.

It was also well-meant. Though still not quite hitting the mark in terms of understanding.

Lin Yuchan gladly expressed her gratitude, smiling: “Starting next Monday, I’m going to Boya Trading House to earn money—oh, if you need to stock up on tea here, I’ll give you twenty percent off.”

Su Minguan said nothing more, smiled politely, and cupped his hands toward her.

Lin Yuchan’s tea processing production line began operating as scheduled. By Monday, just after ten o’clock, the first batch of canned premium Grade A black tea was delivered to the small Western-style building’s shelves.

Rong Hong was visiting friends in Chongming. He wasn’t there.

Lin Yuchan smiled and greeted the clerks, asking them to load the goods while introducing product details.

“…Here are three specifications, with tin-canned products having the highest profit margin…”

When she looked up, Chang Baoluo was there in his long gown and small cap, looking neat but hiding at the very back.

She generously waved at him, calling out: “Manager Chang, hello there!”

They were still colleagues after that awkward situation.

But Chang Baoluo hadn’t adjusted his mindset yet. Seeing Lin Yuchan, he blushed and hid behind the counter, pretending to check accounts.

Chang Baoluo was usually shy, but not to this extent. Moreover, Lin Yuchan had been working with the clerks for a long time—everyone was already familiar.

The others were thus somewhat surprised. Old Li, Old Liu, and Little Zhao all stopped their work, craned their necks to look, then looked at Lin Yuchan, their eyes showing puzzled expressions.

Lin Yuchan quietly spread her hands toward them, indicating she was puzzled too.

There was no helping it. But some matters required his attention as manager.

She finished her immediate tasks and waited a while longer. Seeing that Chang Baoluo still showed no intention of coming over for handoff, she took the initiative to approach him.

“Manager Chang, I had people mark expiration dates on this batch of goods…”

Chang Baoluo wouldn’t even lift his eyes to look at her, playing crookedly with copper coins in his hands, saying glumly: “Just tell Little Zhao, he can handle this too. I… I…”

As he spoke, he stole glances at her, his face alternating between red and white, clearly emotionally abnormal.

Lin Yuchan’s heart gave a little lurch, afraid he might say: “Miss Lin, do I still have a chance?”

He didn’t. Chang Baoluo was naturally gentle-tempered, always bearing setbacks alone and swallowing bitter feelings.

Just as the lane auntie had assessed: “He’s a decent person who won’t pester obsessively.”

Miss Lin had clearly expressed her refusal. His first hopeful “new-style blind date” had become a farce. He had spent the entire weekend at home feeling sorry for himself, occasionally complaining to God, but instead wrote several more love poems.

Chang Baoluo suddenly rushed out from behind the counter, telling his colleagues: “I’m not feeling well, taking leave today.”

With several jingling sounds, copper coins scattered across the floor.

Lin Yuchan remained silent.

She wasn’t a caring older sister type and didn’t know how to help him adjust his mindset, so she could only pretend nothing had happened and quietly finish the day’s work.

For several consecutive days, Lin Yuchan’s tea sales went quite smoothly.

Rong Hong had already asked friends to bring in some orders, and the other clerks also showed their abilities, doing both wholesale and retail. Additionally, there were the Western ladies’ afternoon tea sessions that Lin Yuchan organized—though their proportion of total sales was now quite small, since this was the channel through which Boya’s reputation first spread, they didn’t dare neglect it. Lin Yuchan served wholeheartedly, treating it as a means of expanding her network.

Only Chang Baoluo performed abnormally, making elementary mistakes while on duty.

When talking with Lin Yuchan, his logic would often break down; when communicating with others, his gaze would frequently go blank, his thoughts wandering who knows where.

All the clerks could see the manager had something on his mind. Occasionally gathering together, they would whisper and speculate.

Someone in his family was sick? He’d been scammed? He’d fought with his parents? He’d been bullied by foreigners?

…

By Friday, when Rong Hong returned from his friend’s place in Chongming and sat idly in the trading house for half a day, he immediately noticed something was wrong.

After work, Rong Hong personally called Chang Baoluo in for questioning.

Half an hour later, the manager’s office door opened, and Chang Baoluo left with his head down.

Rong Hong called out, “Miss Lin, please come in for a moment.”

…

Lin Yuchan had nothing to hide from Rong Hong. She tried her best to set aside her subjective emotions and carefully described the cause and process of that mistaken blind date from beginning to end.

“…Manager Chang can’t be blamed. Those aunties exaggerated too much and fooled him. I was also soft-hearted and shouldn’t have gone along with the aunties. But they had been matchmaking for so long, just short of this final step—sooner or later, they would have found an excuse to make me meet him… sigh, couldn’t avoid it. Can only say the world is too small, playing tricks on people…”

Rong Hong shook his head as he listened, his deep-set eyes full of helplessness.

“You…” he asked carefully, “what are your feelings toward Baoluo…”

“No special feelings,” Lin Yuchan immediately said, “he’s a good person, but I won’t consider marriage.”

Rong Hong nodded, pointing to a document on his desk: “This is Baoluo’s resignation letter.”