Self-combing was great—vowing never to marry, and others couldn’t force you—that way she wouldn’t have to worry about being sold off by Shopkeeper Wang every day!
But Aunt Hong hesitated: “A’Mei, don’t be impulsive. Self-combing women don’t have children, so after death, no one offers incense, and the family won’t provide burial rites. Lonely ghosts are very miserable.”
Lin Yuchan laughed: “No problem, I don’t care!”
Her father, Lin Guangfu, was addicted to opium—if his daughter died, he’d just throw her in a mass grave. She’d rather not have that kind of “burial rites.” As for incense offerings and such feudal dregs, she had no psychological burden about them at all.
Aunt Hong’s tone became more stern: “After self-combing, if you’re unclear with men, according to our Shunde customs, you’ll be drowned in a pig cage.”
This time, Lin Yuchan was startled: “Ah?”
Having traveled to such an unlucky world, she hadn’t harbored hopes for sweet romance anyway. But not dating was one thing—self-combing women already didn’t marry or have children, so why should they still submit to such insane feudal customs?
This meant that even if she self-combed, if she later encountered what happened to Aunt Hong today, if she couldn’t dodge it, even if she didn’t seek death, others would help her “defend her chastity”…
She couldn’t help glancing at Su Minguan. Young Master Su looked at her pale face with schadenfreude, as if saying: “How can you have the best of both worlds? Your wanting to run wild is pure dreaming.”
“Besides, you’re of slave status—to self-comb you need your master’s consent.” Su Minguan stood up and efficiently cleared the dishes. “Also, Aunt Hong, you’d better return to your hometown to hide for a while. If those foreigners today are petty and go back to stew in their anger, they might report to officials and have people come to trouble you.”
Aunt Hong laughed: “I still have business to do. These foreigners came with the steamship—they won’t stay long. They’ll leave in a few days, no problem!”
Su Minguan: “So even if they kill you, they’ll leave in a few days without taking responsibility.”
Aunt Hong: “…Bah.”
She nimbly got up to pack.
Su Minguan turned to Lin Yuchan: “As for you…”
Lin Yuchan knew what he meant and quickly patted her chest: “Don’t worry, I’m very tight-lipped. None of them knows where I popped up from.”
While Aunt Hong got up to wash dishes, her curiosity exploded as she hesitantly spoke.
“When driving off the foreigners just now, why didn’t you clearly state you work for Jardine Matheson & Co.? That way, perhaps they would have given you face…”
Su Minguan was silent for a while, his mouth curving in a cold arc, as if laughing at her naivety.
“Chinese people might fear my status, but in foreigners’ eyes, respectable Chinese like me should be even more submissive to them.”
He wore a light-colored long robe, starched crisp. Even after the commotion of seizing guns and weapons, he still looked neat, truly respectable.
Lin Yuchan pondered his words.
She had also seen Chinese people dealing with foreigners: Wang Quan, Reverend Morrison’s servant, officials greeting foreigners at the wharf…
These people either exuded servility, viewing serving foreign masters as supreme honor, or were like Wang Quan—one way to their faces, another behind their backs. Though fundamentally despising foreigners, they still endured humiliation and disassembled, thinking that earning foreigners’ silver brought honor to the Chinese people.
In short, either looking up or looking down. Either genuinely enslaved or using the spiritual victory method, thinking themselves dignified citizens forced to grovel before barbarians, like sons beating fathers, showing worldly injustice.
Su Minguan was neither. He treated his boss, Jardine, as coldly as government runners. He disciplined misbehaving British sailors as mercilessly as Chinese thugs.
Unfortunately, his simple “equality” thinking wasn’t popular in current society.
She could even imagine Wang Quan pursing his lips, using extremely exaggerated disgust to say: “How can masters and slaves be the same, how can men and women be the same, how can officials and commoners be the same? Eh? Wouldn’t that be chaos?”
So in others’ eyes, this kind of foreign firm employee was equivalent to a “slave.” That’s why he didn’t want to mention this identity.
Lin Yuchan thought bitterly: “Pretentious like me.”
But you couldn’t blame him. The Thirteen Factories had fallen, and the era of red-capped merchants dominating international commerce was gone forever. As one of this era’s outcasts, besides mixing meals at former competitors’ homes, what other livelihood could he pursue?
Thinking she had seen through his difficulties, she sincerely comforted: “You don’t need to care about others’ opinions. As long as you respect yourself…”
“A’Mei,” Su Minguan suddenly became agitated, put on his hat to cover his face, and said dully: “I don’t need your advice, thank you.”
Lin Yuchan: “…”
It was just polite conversation—why did he explode?
Such a middle school warning, too?
She had a strong feeling that Su Minguan was very indifferent to human relationships and didn’t want deep friendships with anyone. The only time he let down his guard was that day at the mass grave when he thought he was chatting with a dead person.
After discovering this “corpse” was alive, he probably regretted it quite a bit. Since then, he deliberately kept a distance from her, avoiding any sentimentality or heart-to-heart talks.
When she paid to redeem him initially, instead of honoring a life-saving debt, his first reaction was to record it for repayment. Same with Aunt Hong—seemingly harmonious but with clear boundaries in his heart, unwilling to owe her any favors.
There was also that inexplicable life principle of “one good deed per year”—seemingly absurd but probably helping him avoid many life traps.
She thought this was a personality suited for business…
She suddenly remembered what she’d come for today and said hurriedly: “Don’t leave! The tea is ready—the shopkeeper had me bring it for you to see!”
Reaching into her chest, oh no—empty.
It had long been kicked somewhere by the foreign sailors.
Su Minguan turned back and mockingly concluded: “You just came to mooch meals from Aunt Hong.”
Lin Yuchan frantically searched the ground. After a long time, she scraped up a few burned tea leaves from the dust, still reeking of gunpowder sulfur.
Holding up two charred tea stalks, she smiled apologetically: “Young Master Minguan, could you assess the quality?”
Su Minguan was helpless: “You’re too perfunctory. Tell your shopkeeper to send another canister.”
Lin Yuchan pursed her lips silently. When other liaison clerks botched things, at most, they’d have their wages docked or get slapped. But for her, one small mistake could make Wang Quan regenerate thoughts of human trafficking.
She said matter-of-factly: “Defeng Trading’s reputation guarantees this tea absolutely won’t be inferior. If you’re truly interested in buying, I can work with you to help negotiate the price down.”