Little Mrs. Pan—to distinguish between them, Lin Yuchan secretly called the Wenxiang’s wife she needed to approach Big Pan, and her sister Little Pan—had suffered greatly from losing both husband and child, and wanted to seek comfort from religion.

This was what Sister Ma from the snack shop had said. It indeed matched the mentality of unfortunate people who suddenly suffered such blows.

Sister Ma said Little Mrs. Pan had sought psychological comfort from various schools: Buddhist nuns, Taoist nuns, spirit mediums, even shamans… She had also considered Western deities, but gave up due to “propriety between men and women.”

But Little Mrs. Pan, being new to Shanghai, might not know there were female missionaries here.

Lin Yuchan thought it over—the most direct and effective method was to connect Little Mrs. Pan with Miss Aldrich.

Just making connections, not persuading religious conversion. Moreover, Miss Aldrich wasn’t a wolf. This plan didn’t violate her principles.

If Miss Aldrich could be invited to Little Mrs. Pan’s residence, she could enter together as Miss Aldrich’s interpreter or assistant.

Big Mrs. Pan had come to care for her sister, so naturally, she also lived in the same residence.

Lin Yuchan figured if she were fortunate enough to meet Big Mrs. Pan, she could seize the opportunity to advise her to ask Wenxiang to reconsider the Tongwen College matter.

…Such a long chain.

But for a commoner like her to enter an official family’s residence with dignity, there seemed to be no other shortcuts.

Ancient story collections often featured “three aunties and six grannies” infiltrating great mansions to cause mischief and corrupt young ladies and wives. Reflecting on it, Lin Yuchan realized she was taking a similar path, belonging to the “divine sorceresses” among the three aunties and six grannies who summoned spirits and told fortunes.

Fortunately, Lin Yuchan had built up enough goodwill with Miss Aldrich normally, and “comforting widows” could fully satisfy Miss Aldrich’s desire to help others. Lin Yuchan didn’t need much persuasion to get the flower-dressed old spinster to nod in agreement.

“This is truly an opportunity given by God. I also want to take this chance to meet more upper-class Chinese women.” Miss Aldrich held her afternoon tea, smiling elegantly. “You know, as long as they convert, they usually lead all the men and women in their household to believe together. Sometimes they even influence their husbands.”

Lin Yuchan quickly clarified again: “Banner people from the capital are very wary of foreigners. I have no idea what their attitude toward religion is either. You mustn’t seem too… um, too…”

“Eager for quick success?” Miss Aldrich put away her naive expression, her gaze becoming wise, smiling kindly. “Do I look like someone eager for quick success? Rest assured, dear Lucy. No matter what the world’s attitude toward the Lord is, I will bring them equal care.”

Lin Yuchan felt slightly embarrassed.

She had met many aggressive foreign missionaries who would even use deception to recruit followers.

But today, regarding Miss Aldrich, she had been petty-minded.

“You should have Western clothing made, little Lottie, to look like a proper interpreter.” Miss Aldrich suggested enthusiastically. “These bloated Chinese dresses have no sacred feeling of God at all, not dignified in the least. I don’t know how that customs boy has endured you for so long.”

Lin Yuchan coaxed her like appeasing elders in friend circles: “This is a traditional Chinese family from the capital, quite conservative. You wearing Western dress is fine, but if I’m too unconventional as well, I’m afraid we’ll frighten that poor widow.”

“Then… then your current outfit won’t do either.” Miss Aldrich insisted stubbornly. “To be my interpreter, you must at least dress respectably. Otherwise, Chinese people will think I’m a fraud.”

So in her eyes, she had always been “not respectable.” Lin Yuchan found it somewhat amusing, but could only agree: “Fine, fine, I’ll have a respectable new outfit made.”

Miss Aldrich, like all elders in friend circles, was rather soft-eared, especially when facing thick-skinned but seemingly harmless people like Lin Yuchan. After being coaxed a few times, she quickly compromised.

“…Which day was it? Double Ninth Festival, right? That poor widow is going to burn incense at a Buddhist temple? Oh, these poor heathens, they only do things that anger God… Thank you for marking it on my calendar, you are a delightful little sprite.”

“See you then, dear Lucy.”

Shanghai had low, flat terrain with few elevated areas. Only Sheshan in Songjiang Prefecture had a somewhat adequate elevation and was a Buddhist holy site. Lin Yuchan learned from Sister Ma that on the Double Ninth Festival, Little Mrs. Pan would take people to Sheshan Puzhao Temple to burn incense.

Miss Aldrich and her “female interpreter” would wait at Sheshan, creating a chance encounter while Little Mrs. Pan was offering incense, then quickly gain her trust and obtain the opportunity to preach at her residence.

Lin Yuchan thought that with Miss Aldrich’s sincerity and her eloquence, having a pleasant chat with an ordinary official’s wife shouldn’t be a problem. Though she was a commoner, she wasn’t original Qing equipment after all, and wouldn’t develop the debuff of “weak knees, unclear speech, confused thinking” upon seeing an official.

Her appearance, properly groomed, should also inspire affinity—perhaps her hygiene was even better than the official’s wife’s.

If the official’s wife was truly impervious to persuasion, she had Miss Aldrich as a shield, borrowing foreign prestige, and should be able to retreat unharmed.

The plan was sound.

Everything was ready except the east wind.

Miss Aldrich reminded her that clothing made the person. She couldn’t wear the coarse cloth skirt and pants she used for moving tea crates to attempt this scheme.

Usually Lin Yuchan was frugal, and not wanting to be too ostentatious, she chose the most low-key, plain clothing—more dark colors, fewer bright ones. She dressed half-new, half-old, saving on hair ornaments and jewelry when possible. With her aesthetic sense, many fashionable gaudy decorations were worse than having none.

If she wore her usual everyday clothes to find Mrs. Pan, she’d probably be mistaken for a steamed bun seller by her servants.

Moreover, ancient people valued dress and appearance. Wearing careless clothing could easily be seen as lacking propriety, offending people.

Furthermore, she needed to find a way to strike up a conversation with an official’s wife. In the Qing Dynasty, social stratification was severe. If the official’s wife took her for Miss Aldrich’s maid, she wouldn’t even look at her properly—even a cough would be overstepping.

So she had to at least make the official’s wife think she also came from a good social background.

This required clothing of corresponding status.

Upper-class ladies never left home, and no matter how fine their clothes, only family members saw them. Lin Yuchan had no opportunity to observe and learn.

Fortunately, she had enthusiastic Mao Shunniang to help strategize. The next day, Xiao Nan put down her work and accompanied her shopping in the county town for half a day, selecting various fabrics and embroidery, finding a trusted female tailor and taking measurements.

Lin Yuchan dragged herself home exhausted to Hongkou for a long sleep, feeling she’d taken the first step in a long march.

While formulating her “wife diplomacy” plan, Lin Yuchan also kept busy with the shop—business couldn’t be neglected.

The tea processing assembly line ran smoothly. The alley ladies no longer made blunders, and Mao Shunniang’s “Jade Rabbit Fund” had accumulated one yuan and five cents in silver dollars.

Shopkeeper Mau hadn’t noticed anything suspicious yet.

The paper losses of the Hongkou branch were gradually being erased. Once, when Rong Hong was reading newspapers, he was surprised to find “Boya” advertisements in the margins. Though only a few lines, it pioneered Chinese tea merchants’ advertising in newspapers.

Rong Hong found time to specially visit the branch for tea, laughing as he asked: “When did the North China Herald start doing advertisements for Chinese people? I didn’t even know.”

“There was no precedent before.” Lin Yuchan skillfully gave him a tour of the Hongkou branch, introducing the current business. “But the editor-in-chief’s daughter of the North China Herald is a regular customer for afternoon tea here. She and her friends often chat about various newspaper matters. Once she mentioned that a spot for a brief news item had been fully typeset, but they suddenly discovered the news was false and had to withdraw it. No other news could fit in that position. I had a sudden inspiration, immediately ran to the newspaper office, composed a few lines of advertisement copy on the spot, and asked them to squeeze it in to fill the gap—saving the situation was like fighting fire. They were too lazy to distinguish between Chinese and foreign, and directly printed it for me.

“You may laugh, sir—this advertisement copy was written to fit the character count. If you read it carefully, the grammar is still a bit off, haha.”

Rong Hong was amazed, gaining new recognition of this girl’s cleverness.

Without constantly putting career first, who could have such quick reactions?

“Miss Lin,” he didn’t immediately show joy, but sighed instead, “you’ve worked hard here.”

He still felt bad about being too harsh with her over Chang Baoluo’s trivial matter.

Seeing his guilty expression, Lin Yuchan laughed instead: “Mr. Rong, you’re not suited to be a capitalist. A truly unscrupulous capitalist would now say: Miss Lin, you’ve turned misfortune into fortune, having the privilege to partner with me in making big money—you should be grateful!”

Her imitation of a profiteer’s tone was quite realistic. Rong Hong laughed heartily and dropped the subject.

“Miss Lin, I regret that our original contract was fifty-fifty profit sharing, not monthly salary.”

He was joking, of course. Lin Yuchan joked back: “I also regret ever mentioning tea buying to you. Look how tanned you’ve gotten—can you still get dates with Western girls?”

Now that she was his partner rather than employee, she spoke even more freely.

Rong Hong huffed indignantly: “I was the top bachelor in the fraternity at Yale.”

After several more trips inland, Rong Hong had darkened a shade, become much more robust, and spoke louder, no longer resembling the naive mark he’d been initially.

But his temperament remained refined and gentle, like an elegant scholar. He still carried the same pen—a Yale graduation gift with worn-off paint.

Lin Yuchan commented with a smile: “If you were still at Yale now, you could probably play football directly.”

Rong Hong sighed deeply: “In a blink, it’s been almost ten years since graduation. My classmates have all become rising stars in various American fields, while I’m still muddling through here with no achievements except making money.”

After a pause, he dealt himself another blow: “And this money isn’t made by me alone.”

Great, she’d accidentally brought up another sensitive topic. Lin Yuchan quickly changed the subject, taking out from the cabinet Beijing Tongwen College English Commentary Character Recognition Textbook—what Hede wanted—and slapping it on the table to cheer him up.

Moments later, only various tones of “hahaha” duets remained at the tea table.

“Hahaha…” Rong Hong gasped for breath, “Misleading students, misleading students! For such an elementary textbook, I could write a better one with my eyes closed…”

Pity you don’t even have the opportunity to write one with eyes closed, Lin Yuchan silently thought. In the Qing bureaucracy’s standard operations, such opportunities were reserved only for those with connections.

Three days before the Double Ninth Festival, Lin Yuchan took Mao Shunniang to the county town to collect clothes, paying the final three taels of silver, rather painful.

…For the customs contract, she endured it. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Mao Shunniang impatiently opened the clothing bundle.

“So beautiful, just as I imagined! Sister, try it quickly!”

A maroon bright satin peony-patterned wide-sleeved jacket, trimmed with elaborate lace, piped with decorative edges, paired with cloud shoulders—fat and short, quite inconvenient for movement. Below was a pleated horse-face skirt in peach red, also with elaborate lace trim and several rows of embroidered borders—the entire skirt weighed about five pounds.

Lin Yuchan had to forcefully tighten her belt for the skirt to stay up.

The female tailor and her apprentice clapped on the side: “Madam has a blessed appearance—wearing this outfit shows great dignity. Such clothing must be paired with heavy makeup to carry it off. Going to burn incense at the temple—you’ll surely outshine all the ladies in the courtyard!”

Then they taught her to arrange her hair in the current popular style, gifting her several matching hair ribbons.

Looking in the mirror, Lin Yuchan felt she’d aged ten years, but indeed looked… quite dignified.

Imagining herself with red lips, rouge, and painted eyebrows…

Mm, indeed very much like a costume photo from Qing palace TV dramas—the villain imperial noble consort who opposes the innocent female lead.

Beyond that, her aesthetic differed too much from the natives. Since everyone praised it, and three people make a tiger, she also felt…

Well, not bad.

How she looked didn’t matter—what mattered was that Little Mrs. Pan should find her steady, kind, and trustworthy.

She smiled: “Has it been starched and color-fixed? Then I’ll wear it home.”

Mao Shunniang quickly pleaded: “Don’t! Take it off quickly! If you wear that, I’ll look like a little maid beside you!”

Lin Yuchan giggled and cooperated in removing the skirt. When the belt loosened, the skirt crashed to the floor. The jacket buttons were so tight she couldn’t stretch enough to remove it alone—the tailor had to help.

…No wonder ancient noble ladies needed help dressing.

Lin Yuchan carried the heavy bundle of clothes, thanked Xiao Nan, first sent her home to Xujiahui, then headed north to Hongkou.

The distance was too far, so she called a sedan chair, alighting at the Suzhou Creek ferry, then walking after crossing the river.

Actually, in recent years foreigners had collectively funded building a bridge over Suzhou Creek for convenient travel, named Wells Bridge. Foreigners crossed free, Chinese paid a toll—five wen each time.

Lin Yuchan didn’t lack the five wen, but refused to be this second-class citizen, so whenever not pressed for time, she took the ferry.

While waiting for the boat, she suddenly saw a cargo ship flying Yixing flags anchored and unloading.

Lin Yuchan’s heart stirred. She greeted the ship’s workers, borrowed a gangplank, and jumped onto the stern. After unloading finished, she caught a ride on the boat, drifting along to Yixing wharf.

Since it was too late to open for business anyway, she’d go show off to her employee: I also have classy new clothes!

Subconsciously, she had another thought: due to disadvantages in height, weight, and age, Su Minguan always felt she was easy to bully. Today, she’d be “dignified” for once and suppress him.

Arriving at Yixing, she saw her employee was there, actively working with dock workers to repair a ship and nail boards. Though the autumn day was slightly cool, he was sweating through his clothes, wearing the coarse gray cloth shirt used for manual labor, with pant legs and sleeve cuffs stained with grime.

But even disheveled as this, among a group of dark, rough dock workers, he was still the most handsome one. Eyes lowered, extremely focused, muscles tensing with exertion, lips slightly pressed downward.

Others repairing ships looked like ship repair—he looked like creating art.

Lin Yuchan felt rather ashamed seeing this. Showing off fancy clothes at such a time—wasn’t that bullying?

But Su Minguan had already seen her, nodding in her direction, still finishing his task before striding over.

“Miss Lin, what instructions do you have?”

Lin Yuchan deflected: “Um… wanted to come have some tea.”

This excuse was rather clumsy. Su Minguan didn’t believe it, smiling imperceptibly as he casually took a handkerchief to wipe sweat, saying: “Wait in the tea room, I’ll be right there.”

After waiting ten minutes in the tea room, Su Minguan entered, and Lin Yuchan’s eyes lit up.

He had somehow completely washed and changed into a new shirt and shoes, with a small pearl pendant subtly adorning his belt.

He still carried the faint camphor scent from wardrobes. His temples seemed to have water traces.

Lin Yuchan: “…”

Male efficiency, indeed.

Also, not having a queue made washing hair convenient.

Since it was like this, she wouldn’t be polite either, shaking out the bundle to show off.

“Double Ninth Festival—wearing this outfit to intercept Mrs. Pan.” She smiled. “Won’t outshine her, will I?”

Su Minguan knew she was well-prepared, but hadn’t expected her to have an entirely new outfit made—she’d invested.

One should know that even when common people had spare money for new clothes, they generally waited for New Year, festivals, or weddings and funerals, making one piece at a time—this year a shirt, next year pants, the year after shoes, and so on. Rarely would they get an entirely new outfit.

He became interested, taking the jacket and skirt to examine.

Lin Yuchan asked eagerly: “How is it?”

Su Minguan slowly bit his upper and lower lips, a bright canine tooth flashing.

“You…” his voice was somewhat muffled, emotions unclear, “why not try it on?”

Saying this, he drew curtains around the tea room and actively stepped outside, leaning against the door, playing with finger snaps.

Lin Yuchan was puzzled, thinking: if you want me to wear it, I’ll wear it—did you consult me?

However, current clothing was all flat-cut, so the laid-out effect was very different from wearing it. Since she had actively bothered him today, she’d actively put it on.

Without help, she worked up a sweat.

“Ready.”

Su Minguan immediately pushed the door open, obviously having anticipated this long time. Upon entering, his gaze immediately and impolitely swept around her body, then—

“Puhaha… just as I thought…”

Lin Yuchan’s whole body stiffened. When was the last time Su Minguan laughed so uncontrollably in front of her?

And he laughed more and more wildly, even deliberately covering his eyes, pretending he couldn’t bear to look, finally unable to contain himself, collapsing in a chair, looking up at the ceiling. His barely suppressed laughter was somewhat distorted—from Lin Yuchan’s angle she could only see his Adam’s apple bobbing.

Lin Yuchan finally understood why his earlier “try it on” had such a strange tone—he was holding back laughter.

She watched him coldly as he celebrated. He hadn’t been this carried away even when getting the fifteen hundred tael order.

After laughing enough, Su Minguan wiped his tears and asked: “A’Mei, who made this for you?”

Lin Yuchan replied calmly: “A female tailor in the county town with a good reputation…”

“That’s not what I mean. I’m asking… did you choose the fabric and style yourself?”

His voice was finally normal, though his eyebrows curved upward. You could see he was trying hard to be serious and authoritative, but failed within two seconds, looking at her and laughing again.

Lin Yuchan bit back a mouthful of cold air and told the truth: “It was Shopkeeper Mau’s Xiao Nan… um, though younger than me, her embroidery work is quite good… she never tricks people…”

Su Minguan rubbed his temples with his fingers, stood up, walked directly to her, and asked gently: “What do you think?”

Lin Yuchan: “…”

This should be a question for you, “ancient people” to answer!

The wide jacket was like a robe, the fabric round, bright, and stiff, wrapping her thin body like a round ball—according to the tailor, “especially blessed.” The horse-face skirt’s pleats spread out, making her entire lower half wider than Su Minguan—according to Mao Shunniang, “imposingly noble.”

Seeing her face red and speechless, Su Minguan smiled and asked: “Chalk marks not yet erased, hurriedly catching a boat to come here—you wanted my opinion?”

This blow was too harsh. Lin Yuchan bit her teeth and nodded.

“Speak honestly.”

Su Minguan’s voice was gentle as water: “I believe Miss Mau truly meant to help you. You look like her mother-in-law.”

Lin Yuchan angrily jumped up to hit him. But the jacket sleeves were too heavy—her hook punch lost power midway, silently muffled in three pounds of silk.

She nearly knocked over the teapot on the nearby curio shelf.

Su Minguan asked in a low laugh: “How much money? Go return it.”

Lin Yuchan suddenly felt especially wronged: “But Double Ninth Festival is coming! I can’t wear my cargo-moving delivery clothes! If you think it’s ugly, then make me something beautiful!”

Su Minguan remained unhurried, his gaze sweeping over the little girl’s face: indeed, the maroon color made her exceptionally fair. If she gained another twenty pounds, she could barely count as a “round-faced” blessed little wife. But with her sharp little oval face, even glowing white, draped in layers of wealthy peonies, she could only be called a small water chestnut wrapped in a red thick shell, only making people want to… eat her.

But now this little face was in a bad mood, eyebrows drooping to her eye corners—this water chestnut was probably bitter.

He lightly licked his lips, learning her complaining tone: “It’s not just about beauty. This outfit completely doesn’t match your temperament—anyone with eyes can see you have ulterior motives. Who told you to use an inexperienced young girl as an advisor? Why didn’t you ask me in advance?”

Lin Yuchan looked at him distrustfully.

“Don’t tell me you also learned tailoring as a child.”

Su Minguan smiled very modestly: “That I did not.”

Then he turned to leave, shouting to distant workers: “It’s getting late—I’m finishing work today. Remember to verify the remaining orders before leaving!”

Several loud responses from the back hall: “Boss, don’t worry,” and such.

Lin Yuchan stood dazed in the tea-scented small room for half a minute, suddenly understanding his meaning. Her face lit up with joy as she struggled to unbutton herself.

The young master is taking me clothes shopping!

By the time she hurriedly rolled up the purple-red water chestnut shell and stuffed it in the bundle, she was sweating again.

She rushed out the door—Su Minguan had already put on his outer coat and handed her a towel for wiping sweat.

“Be careful not to catch a cold.”