The “Female Bodhisattva” had boundless powers, making Master Qi bleed five hundred thousand taels in one night. Lin Yuchan’s lips curled slightly upward—too bad she couldn’t share this with Su Minguan.
She witnessed this farce in a daze, calculated in her mind, and said to Mr. Zhan: “You’d better hurry home and prepare to find another job. The Qi mansion’s tea business probably won’t be viable for a year or two.”
As for herself—
Last night, in his parting words, Su Minguan had advised her to save money quickly to buy her freedom and leave Defeng Trading Company.
He hadn’t told her to escape. Because in the Qing dynasty, as a runaway slave living as an illegal resident, one’s life was cheaper than a dog’s.
He thought she only had two paths: “redemption” or “escape.” But now it seemed he also had things he couldn’t calculate.
After the mob dispersed, Lin Yuchan made up her mind, suddenly quickened her pace, and slipped into the Qi mansion through a small door.
Snatching chestnuts from the fire—this was the moment.
Everyone in the mansion was in chaos. The usually well-trained servants had become scattered sand, frantically organizing firefighting. With limited water basins and buckets, those not carrying water didn’t dare go far, standing nearby as cheerleaders, putting on a show of desperately protecting their master.
Master Qi was furious in the central hall, hitting anyone he saw and smashing anything he could grab; Young Master Qi hid in his study refusing to show his face; Shopkeeper Wang was ashen-faced flipping through account books, figuring out how to raise five hundred thousand.
These wealthy merchants of the late Qing had long begun leveraging business dealings. Though they seemed to possess vast assets, they also had considerable debts. They couldn’t produce huge amounts of cash on the books—when urgently needing money, they had to either borrow or sell assets.
When Master Qi’s anger subsided slightly, he gritted his teeth and asked Wang Quan: “Who leaked the information? How was the coolie barracks discovered? Are the bodyguards I hired all dead?!”
Wang Quan felt such regret in his heart. The coolie barracks connected to the tea roasting workshop, which Master Qi had repeatedly warned must never be opened to outsiders. If he hadn’t been clever, trying to “catch Su Minguan in a trap,” leading the wolf into the house, how could it have come to this?
But he couldn’t take responsibility himself, could he? He had meant well! Catching a traitor!
His mind was a tangled mess, with the pile of disasters from recent months flashing before his eyes like a revolving lantern.
How had he become so bewitched as to let a stranger into the workshop?
…
Wang Quan recalled the moment Su Minguan first appeared at Defeng Trading Company. The letter of introduction from Jardine Matheson & Co., the draft from London Chartered Bank, impeccable professional knowledge, his perfectly appropriate pickiness after getting the tea samples, and Lin Yuchan’s casual remark: “Even if he becomes suspicious and doesn’t come, your business won’t suffer any loss…”
Wang Quan suddenly raised his head, squeezing bitter smile lines from his oily face, his eyes behind the glasses brightening.
There was one person who seemed insignificant but was like a thin thread connecting this entire chain of schemes.
“Lin Ba Mei,” he pretended to suddenly realize, saying to Master Qi, “that girl—she conspired with the thieves and stole the key to the tea roasting workshop! It must be her!”
The coolie trafficking scandal had spread throughout Guangzhou. The authorities passed the buck to Master Qi; Master Qi passed it to Wang Quan; but Wang Quan wasn’t a salted fish to be slaughtered at will—that pot could continue to be passed.
He wept and wailed, filled with grief and indignation: “I only thought that girl was honest and capable. Who could imagine that people’s hearts are separated by their bellies, that she would do such traitorous things, betraying her master from within! This humble servant deserves death for poor judgment, but I treated her well, only having her do odd jobs daily. That day when the master ordered Western food from Taiping Restaurant, I even gave it to her out of pity…”
Master Qi had never heard of this Lin Ba Mei person. After asking a few questions, he scolded: “Wang Quan, Wang Quan, you brought women into the tea shop—no wonder bad luck has fallen on us! I thought you were so clever in business, but you’re utterly confused about internal affairs. Stupid!”
Wang Quan repeatedly bowed: “Yes, yes, yes, this humble one was soft-hearted for a moment, couldn’t bear to hear the little girl’s crying, so I kept her. It was my fault…”
Master Qi had a belly full of depression with nowhere to vent, and casually said, “Beat her to death.”
For these big capitalists who didn’t treat human lives as precious, killing you meant killing you—did they need to pick an auspicious day?
Wang Quan was startled: “This girl is expensive…”
“Beat her to death! What’s the point of keeping her? To continue betraying us from within?”
Lin Yuchan didn’t know any of this. She heard the head matron arguing with someone: “…Selling people is fine, but I need to review the list! Those capable workers must be kept! Qiu Lan mustn’t be sold to a brothel—her marriage is already arranged!…”
Lin Yuchan rushed back to her dormitory.
Xiao Feng sat on the bed, bent over, picking corns from her feet.
With deformed small feet, the servant girls had heavy workloads and walked frequently. Friction points often developed corns that had to be picked out. For any small-footed girl, skillfully and quickly picking corn was an essential ability.
The other servant girls had heard that the Qi mansion was besieged by violent mobs. Though also panicked, seeing the fire was still far from their rooms, they were all resting individually, hoping the head matron would come late to conscript workers so they could have a day off.
Seeing Lin Yuchan’s tense face with eyebrows so furrowed they couldn’t unfurl, they couldn’t help laughing.
“Haha, Big Foot Girl is scared!—Don’t worry, even if the fire spreads here, you run the fastest!…”
“The master is going to sell all of us to raise money,” Lin Yuchan said expressionlessly. “Those of us who do rough work will mostly be sold to ‘that kind of place.'”
All the girls in the room suddenly raised their heads. Xiao Feng’s hand shook, and she grimaced in pain.
Being a servant to others was already lowly enough. The only fate lower than this was those prostitutes who leaned against doors selling smiles.
Regardless of their looks or market value, being beaten was routine. The lucky ones, when old and faded, would be randomly matched with poor, diseased men; the unlucky ones would contract filthy diseases, and within months, their flesh would rot, not even getting a coffin.
The servant girls worked diligently daily without fault. According to custom, master families wouldn’t easily sell them to dirty places—it would damage their virtue.
But today’s situation was extraordinary. It was said Master Qi had violated serious government laws, and the mansion was in chaos…
Lin Yuchan’s alarmist words suddenly seemed quite realistic.
Lin Yuchan: “I’m going to find the indenture contracts. Is anyone coming?”
She openly packed her things, continuing under the servant girls’ shocked gazes: “Right now, everyone in the mansion is busy fighting fires—no one will mind our whereabouts. If we wait, there won’t be a chance. Sister Xiao Feng told me before that all the mansion’s servant girls’ indenture contracts are in the study behind the head steward’s bedroom.
“We’re sisters—I only ask one thing: don’t inform on us. Even if you do, no one will remember your loyalty. If I die because of this, I’ll become a vengeful ghost and settle accounts with you.”
After speaking, she walked quickly out the door without looking back.
Launching mass movements also required attention to safety. She wouldn’t provide comprehensive door-to-door service like last time when rescuing the coolies. Having thrown out the harsh words, they should fend for themselves.
She vaguely heard the servant girls in the room saying skeptically:
“Impossible, the master is a virtuous gentleman—how could he sell us?”