Thanks to her illness, Lin Yuchan enjoyed her first hot bath since arriving in the Qing Dynasty. She washed to her heart’s content and nearly fell asleep in the tub.

After bathing, she was completely revived. She quietly ran to the kitchen and threw away all the remaining medicinal herbs.

Before throwing them away, she couldn’t help taking a look—sure enough, there were dead insects. Ugh.

The next day, she called on Su Minguan and together they caught a ride on Miss Odalsky’s carriage to visit the orphanage.

“Dear Lottie, God bless your recovery…”

Miss Odalsky called her by the wrong name, as usual. Lin Yuchan hadn’t minded before, but with Su Minguan in the carriage, hearing “Lucy” and “Lottie” made him suppress laughter, occasionally giving her teasing glances as if to say, “You can tolerate this too?”

She glared at him defiantly. She would have liked to teach Miss Odalsky to pronounce her Chinese name, but the lady had no interest. When finally coaxed into trying once, her pronunciation nearly made Lin Yuchan faint on the spot. She’d rather be called random names—at least they sounded normal, not like a medieval witch.

Young Master Su had no such troubles. When Thirteen Hong’s heirs chose commercial names, they already accommodated foreign tongues. “Minguan” in Cantonese wasn’t difficult to pronounce—people of any nationality could master it after a few tries.

“Luna,” Su Minguan suddenly said softly. “Tell her you’re called Luna.”

Lin Yuchan was slightly stunned, then delighted: “Hey, why didn’t I think of that! Mr. Rong mentioned this name too!”

Luna’s Latin root meant “moon,” and compared to the current European-style women’s names popular in the foreign concessions, it had an exotic charm that coincided with her Chinese name’s meaning.

Rong Hong had once mentioned that if she needed an English name, Luna would be a beautiful choice. But Lin Yuchan hadn’t felt the need then and didn’t take it to heart.

Today, hearing Miss Odalsky call her random names again while Su Minguan barely suppressed his laughter, Lin Yuchan suddenly felt that need had returned.

Su Minguan’s face darkened slightly as he protested: “What Mr. Rong—I thought of it.”

Lin Yuchan laughed: “Alright, alright, thank you, Young Master, for bestowing the name.”

It was just an English name. Having one was optional; getting one was icing on the cake. She was easygoing about such things, without cultural baggage.

“Luna, yes? Right, right, I remember you did introduce yourself that way.” Miss Odalsky changed without pressure. “I got up too early today and momentarily forgot… Oh yes, this handsome young man, what’s your name again? Minguan, right?…”

Why was his name remembered only once? Lin Yuchan was so angry that her hair stood on end.

Miss Odalsky greatly appreciated this newly met young man who spoke English, feeling he had deep spiritual roots and extraordinary bones—after conversion, he would surely achieve great things.

“Dear child, I strongly recommend you chat with Bishop Lang Huairen—he inspects the orphanage every few days, might encounter him today.”

Guangdong people carried deeper historical wounds, and Su Minguan was indifferent to all religions. He sat politely in the carriage corner, replying with pure innocence: “I believe in Mazu.”

Miss Odalsky: “Oh, I’ve never heard of this deity. Sounds like she has commonalities with the Virgin Mary, doesn’t she?”

…

Fortunately, the orphanage wasn’t far. If the carriage had gone to Songjiang Prefecture again, Lin Yuchan seriously worried Miss Odalsky would follow Su Minguan to worship Mazu.

The orphanage was built on church-purchased land with a three-story dormitory building, and many hired local nannies and servants. Over ten thin children played French bowling in the courtyard, dressed simply but cleanly. Seeing strangers, they shyly hid indoors.

They were born fortunate, their life’s starting point higher than many local middle-class children. But their lives were also completely planned: after completing basic language and religious training, they would go deep into China’s interior, bringing civilization and gospel to more “ignorant heathens.”

The orphanage belonged to the Catholic Jiangnan Vicariate—Western religions at this time were divided not just into Catholic and Protestant, but could be subdivided into dozens of denominations targeting different social classes.

Of course there were struggles within factions. For instance, after Lang Huairen took office as Bishop of Jiangnan Vicariate, facing fierce missionary competition, he decided to start with adopting abandoned infants—rather like competing for performance metrics.

This led to Tushawan Orphanage.

Performance that brought welfare to the people was good performance. Lin Yuchan didn’t care about denominational differences—wherever was friendly and helpful to her, that’s where she’d go. Besides, these foreign missionaries knew Chinese people couldn’t distinguish between sects and were very tolerant of her church-hopping behavior.

An elderly Chinese nun with a waxy complexion, who called herself Sister Teresa, received the visiting group. She first bowed to Miss Odalsky, then smiled and greeted Su Minguan and Lin Yuchan: “Little brother, little sister, please sit inside.”

Though dressed as a nun, Sister Teresa’s eyes held typical Chinese shrewdness, blinking like a picky mother-in-law evaluating their morals and family wealth.

The nanny brought out the abandoned infant.

The little one finally didn’t stink and was completely different from a week ago. When first discovered she’d looked like a wrinkled little monkey, now… well, she’d evolved a bit, at least looked human.

Though still far from a diaper advertisement model, her face had finally filled out, the wounds were scabbing over, her eyes had opened—traditional Chinese phoenix eyes.

“This little one has such a blessed appearance, look at those earlobes!” Sister Teresa spoke in heavy dialect, skillfully saying auspicious words. “Miss, you’ve gained immeasurable merit, God bless you!”

The nun, though long converted, still spoke in Buddhist karmic terms, combined with her homemade black factory-collar nun’s dress—quite a mixed style.

Lin Yuchan beamed, carefully receiving the bundle. This was her first time touching such a tiny child.

The little one saw an unfamiliar but rather pleasant face and stared intently. Due to her small face, her black pupils appeared enormous, like two heavy black pearls.

One small hand poked out from the swaddling, thin and soft, each tiny fingernail the size of a mung bean. Having soaked in excrement and urine for so long, her skin was damaged and now peeling, revealing tender pink new skin.

A tiny, round little life—some people treasured her, others threw her into fly-infested latrines, leaving her to live or die.

Lin Yuchan turned to Miss Odalsky: “Would you like to hold her?”

Miss Odalsky stiffened all over, seriously declining: “Luna, you know I… I don’t know how.”

Then she excused herself to tour the orphanage and walked away.

As a lifelong spinster, this action was indeed difficult for her.

Su Minguan kept watching the little person intently, obviously interested.

He was well-traveled and had seen all walks of life, but such a tiny child, like a doll—he’d never had the chance to see one up close.

After all, folk custom held that infants were hard to raise, only brought out to meet strangers after a full month, even a hundred days.

He asked curiously: “What does she eat?”

The nanny answered: “Soy milk, rice soup. Sometimes cow’s milk from nearby villagers. Don’t worry, she won’t go hungry!”

Su Minguan wasn’t satisfied and requested, “Let me hold her.”

Lin Yuchan protectively refused: “Have you ever held Su Xia Nu?”

He brazenly said, “I’ve held puppies.”

So under the close supervision of the nun, nanny, and Lin Yuchan, this big young man carefully received the infant, held his breath, and slowly brought the bundle to his chest—

The bundle fit perfectly into his arm’s curve. Perhaps because his embrace was spacious, the little one even felt quite comfortable, smacking her lips, her exposed little hand grasping his sleeve.

Su Minguan smiled brilliantly, carefully stroking the child’s hand.

Lin Yuchan was amazed. Was there natural talent for holding babies, too?

The nanny laughed with her eyes nearly closed: “I’ve had four children, my husband isn’t as good at holding them as he is!”

Then let him hold her. Lin Yuchan sat on the porch bench, snuggling beside Su Minguan, and together they carelessly entertained the baby.

“How much do you think she weighs? Five pounds?”

“Will all these facial wounds leave scars?”

“She’s gripping me so tight! She must like me. See, she doesn’t grab you.”

“She’s yawning! Is she sleepy? Do you know any lullabies?”

“Wait, do you smell something… come closer… closer…”

“Damn… what do we do what do we do…”

“I should be asking you that!…”

…

Fortunately, the nanny came to the rescue in time. Su Minguan ran out laughing to wash his hands.

Then Sister Teresa approached, reminding Lin Yuchan: “About this little girl’s baptism…”

Lin Yuchan quickly said, “I’ve thought it all through, leave everything to your arrangements.”

Where else could this child go besides the orphanage? Could she ask Mrs. Pan to take her in?

Not only had Mrs. Pan shown no such inclination then, even if she showed mercy and let the child stay for meals, she’d only become a household servant girl—her future wouldn’t necessarily be bright.

If they took a liking to the child and wanted to raise her as a daughter, they could handle adoption procedures later.

But the nun smiled awkwardly, rubbing her hands in her black sleeves, saying quietly, “In my view, this child can already be raised. If Madam doesn’t want her baptized, taking her home to raise would give you a laborer later. I’m just kindly mentioning… after all, if the little one converts, it’ll be hard to find her a husband later…”

Lin Yuchan was shocked. First time seeing a nun who spoke like a neighborhood gossip.

But her impression of stereotypically pious nuns only came from Western movies and news. Though Sister Teresa was a nun, she was first an ordinary Chinese woman with Chinese thinking patterns.

Lin Yuchan pondered her tone and quickly understood: “Does baptism cost money?”

The nun smiled with wrinkles, delighted: “Miss understands our difficulties. After the child’s baptism, the orphanage will raise her, but our funds are limited. The Bishop only cares about opening new orphanages and foundling homes. Though we believers voluntarily live simply, we… we’re not immortals, we need to eat.”

Foreign churches had money, but the believers below lived in poverty, with fixed rations for food, clothing, and necessities. Caring for orphans was extremely laborious—naturally this was something the lofty Bishop never inquired about.

Lin Yuchan noticed Sister Teresa’s black nun’s habit already had several patches, and the trouser cuffs under her skirt were worn through.

Fortunately, she was prepared. She immediately took out a silver dollar and quietly slipped it to the nun.

“This little one was born weak. You and the nanny have suffered. This is my small token—please accept it, consider it a meeting gift for the child. I’ll donate regularly to this place in the future.”

The silver dollar came from Lin Yuchan’s “Natural Feet Mutual Aid Fund.” She had only one requirement—this little one must never have bound feet. The fund was idle anyway, might as well use it on her first.

Indeed, Sister Teresa’s face brightened, her eyes flashing shrewdly as she smiled: “How embarrassing!”

After declining several times, she still accepted it and stopped mentioning “taking the child home to raise.”

Lin Yuchan smiled bitterly, sighing inwardly.

Raising a child in the Qing Dynasty wasn’t easy. Where was the convenience of just dumping responsibility?

At least it was better than hiring a wet nurse, adding extra chopsticks, getting up every night to sing lullabies herself.

Taking advantage of the nun’s gratitude, Lin Yuchan seized the opportunity: “However, after baptism, could you let me take her out for one day? I… need this child to help me with something.”

Lin Yuchan successfully took Florence Lin away from the orphanage and boarded a carriage to Mrs. Pan’s residence.

The baptism was simple—find a duty priest at the neighboring church, dip in a water basin, and it’s done. Of course, that was from Lin Yuchan’s perspective. Every step had meaning; she just had no time to understand.

This further confirmed that Sister Teresa’s so-called “baptism expenses” were just a disguised excuse to ask for money.

Miss Odalsky became the abandoned infant’s godmother, so she let her use the same name.

Lin Yuchan, as one of the infant’s lifesavers, got the privilege of choosing an appropriate Chinese name. After thinking, she translated Florence as Feilun.

Mm, nice-sounding. She praised herself.

The duty priest was aged and somewhat confused, initially making mistakes. Since little Florence slept throughout and was held by a handsome young man, the confused priest took him for a new father, smiling and asking: “Congratulations, what’s your surname?”

Su Minguan was busy admiring the baby and answered casually. The priest’s scribe immediately prepared to write “Su Feilun” in the register.

Two seconds later, Su Minguan suddenly realized and quickly clarified: “I’m just watching for fun.”

The scribe stopped in confusion. The priest also looked questioningly at Lin Yuchan. Only then did Lin Yuchan realize he’d taken her and Su Minguan for a family.

She also hurriedly clarified: “I’m not the mother.”

The priest was stunned, confusedly asking: “Then… are you here for a wedding? Traditional Chinese weddings won’t receive God’s blessing. Recently many people come to make up ceremonies… oh dear, I should prepare different documents…”

Su Minguan coughed violently.

The scribe was so embarrassed that his toes curled. He quickly patted the priest and reminded him of the cause and effect again.

The priest stroked his white beard: “Oh, oh, right, abandoned infant. Just give her any surname. Let me flip through the Bible…”

Lin Yuchan feared he’d come up with something strange. She quickly glanced at Su Minguan and said quietly, “Su Feilun sounds nice.”

Her little calculation was: if he got a bargain daughter, could he pay her living expenses from now on?

She still owed several hundred taels in debt.

Su Minguan’s gaze lowered slightly. He saw through her little scheme completely and smiled politely: “Wouldn’t dare steal such glory. I’m just watching for fun.”

As he spoke, he didn’t look up, admiring the baby’s pouty little mouth.

Lin Yuchan: “…”

Fine, I’ll pay. Who can’t afford to raise a child?

In this era, debtors were the bosses.

So, in the orphanage register appeared one Florence Lin appeared, automatically enrolled in church membership. If nothing unexpected happened, this little purple person fished from a toilet would become a gentle black-robed nun in some foundling home, caring for children with her same fate.

By Lin Yuchan’s standards, not the most perfect career. But she only wanted to save life, not arrange others’ futures.

She thanked the priest and nun, receiving a numbered bamboo tag from the orphanage for future visits.

The confused priest was still muttering behind: “Sigh, might as well do a wedding ceremony while we’re at it. I rarely get up so early…”

In deep autumn’s chill, sycamore trees on both sides of the road had shed their leaves. Golden fallen leaves piled loosely on roadsides, rustling when carriage wheels passed.

Lin Yuchan glanced at the nanny beside her and asked quietly: “Big Sister, do you remember all the etiquette?”

The nanny surnamed Guo was around thirty. Lin Yuchan, comparing ages, called her Big Sister.

Though from humble origins, Mrs. Guo had been hired by foreigners to care for orphans, had seen great cathedrals, grown familiar with foreign languages, and considered herself worldly. She patted sleeping little Feilun in her arms and smiled: “Madam, don’t worry.”

This type of infant under a month was easy to care for—just eating and sleeping daily, very quiet.

Only the nanny suffered, having to feed and change diapers every hour, unable to sleep at night, with dark circles around her eyes. Today for meeting the official’s wife, she’d powdered her face and neck heavily, looking like an opera performer.

Lin Yuchan had given advance notice and completed all mansion entry procedures. The elderly matron she’d seen at Songjiang Prefecture led people out to greet them, immediately complaining: “Why so long! Madam mentions the child daily!”

Seeing little Feilun, she wrinkled her face in a smile: “Such a blessed appearance, doesn’t look like a girl, more like a boy.”

Lin Yuchan couldn’t avoid polite conversation and slipped the matron a small meeting gift.

Fortunately, she didn’t need to spend more on clothing. To enter an official’s wife’s residence, status mattered less than having “proper justification.” Previously, she’d planned to pose as a foreign interpreter, requiring a dress to match Miss Odalsky’s; who knew through strange circumstances she’d finally entered thanks to little Feilun, so she dressed casually—a clean aqua dress and skirt with small white flowers in her hair, a proper and kind-hearted little widow.

Mrs. Pan was also a widow. They should share some sisterly connection.

The mansion’s pathways curved and twisted, pavilions and flowing water everywhere. Though not as extravagantly wealthy as the Qi residence in Guangzhou, every flower and blade of grass showed refinement.

Despite rumors that Mrs. Pan’s prematurely deceased husband had only been transferred to Shanghai for a few months, the residence was already completely furnished, every corner deliberate.

Having visited gardens in her previous life, Lin Yuchan wasn’t particularly surprised; Mrs. Guo had completely become Granny Liu, exclaiming every few steps: “My goodness! How much silver must this be worth!”

The garden had an octagonal pavilion with wind-blocking gauze outside and a small brazier inside, vaguely showing graceful figures.

Two are sitting, leisurely eating snacks. Several were standing in attendance.

Lin Yuchan’s heart leaped with joy. Both sisters were there.

The leading matron predictably introduced one as their mistress, the other as the mistress’s sister, whose husband was a high official in the capital, instructing Lin Yuchan and Mrs. Guo not to breach etiquette.

The gauze lifted, and Lin Yuchan properly bowed.

Fortunately woman meeting a woman required no kowtowing, just not staring directly.

Lin Yuchan kept her head lowered, slightly lifting her eyelids to see that the two ladies were quite different in age—one nearly forty, the other under thirty. Both wore complex hairstyles with heavily powdered faces, their clothing styles indeed more charming and elegant than what she’d seen in pawnshops.

The sisters had very different temperaments. Elder Mrs. Pan wore ivory-trimmed robes with a full moon face smiling sweetly; younger Mrs. Pan had a pointed face, frowning constantly, dressed in plain white with white jade hair ornaments.

No wonder—the sister married a rising court official, the younger sister lost her husband and child, losing her support, basically finished for life.

Lin Yuchan also noticed that though the sisters were Han women, belonging to Han Army Banners, neither had bound feet. Their two pairs of embroidered boat shoes were exquisitely dazzling, could be taken directly to a “Neiliansheng” a hundred years later as treasures of the store.

Lin Yuchan suddenly felt inexplicably moved to tears: too long since seeing normal, beautiful shoes, and she was touched.

The sisters were discussing some past event, with the younger Mrs. Pan wiping tears. Lin Yuchan quickly signaled Mrs. Guo to bring little Feilun over.

Little Feilun had just woken and was experimenting with her tongue and lips, making gurgling sounds while waving her little hands, viciously deploying cuteness.

Human cubs were indeed mood-lifting devices. Especially other people’s cubs, you didn’t have to care for yourself.

Mrs. Pan turned from sorrow to joy, taking the child to hold and clumsily playing with her.

While playing she sighed: “Such a lovely little girl, who could bear to abandon her? What a sin.”

Tears were about to fall again.

Elder Mrs. Pan was usually quiet, but now also sighed, speaking her first words: “Ignorant people don’t understand—they consider marrying daughters financially ruinous, so often abandon baby girls. Retribution comes later—those who drown girls usually can’t bear sons afterward. Isn’t there a story in ‘Notes from Yuewei Cottage’ about Magistrate Wang’s household hearing nightly infant crying, none of his concubines could conceive—wasn’t that retribution!”

Sister Ma’s intelligence was indeed accurate. Elder Mrs. Pan really was a talented woman, quoting classics fluently. The surrounding maids and matrons all sighed along.

Mrs. Pan again asked Lin Yuchan about discovering the abandoned infant.

Lin Yuchan remembered her “Granny Liu” role today and recounted the toilet adventure lightly and humorously, removing unpleasant details while self-deprecatingly saying: “…Later fortunately I had the cloak madam bestowed, wearing it home was truly borrowing authority, quite imposing—people on the road even bowed to me!”

That cloak was just a servant’s uniform, quite ordinary, but flattery cost nothing.

Mrs. Pan laughed delightedly and asked: “What happened next? You sent her to a medical clinic for treatment?”

Gradually reaching the main topic. Lin Yuchan answered truthfully: “I asked that Western nun to send her to a foreign-run orphanage…”

Before she finished speaking, both sisters simultaneously showed fearful expressions. Even the attending maids gasped quietly.

Mrs. Pan blurted: “Aren’t foreign-run foundling homes said to extract children’s hearts and lungs for medicine?”

Lin Yuchan: “…”

Even as a noble daughter from the capital, her understanding of foreigners was similar to opium addict, Lin Guangfu.

Her mission today was to convince Elder Mrs. Pan to trust foreigners’ involvement in Tongwen Academy. This looked like an arduous task indeed.