Lin Yuchan greedily gazed at Shanghai from 160 years ago.
Without the crowded, towering skyscrapers from later photographs, the riverbank appeared very open. Muddy marshes dotted the shoreline everywhere, with tall, dense reed beds from which large white birds fluttered out, their wings beating, bringing the unique muddy, moist smell of river water.
Then, with boats moored and wharves built along the shore, traces of human habitation gradually appeared. The large expanse of farmland and water towns on the left should be what would later become Pudong New Area, while on the right riverbank, residential buildings lined up in rows, among them many grand Western-style buildings—the embryonic form of the modern Bund.
Less than twenty years since opening as a port, though administratively Shanghai was still just a “county town,” it had already leaped to become a major commercial center in the Far East, rivaling the established trading port of Guangzhou Prefecture.
Lin Yuchan had often heard Wang Quan complain that business was hard, with all the foreigners running off to Shanghai, which she’d found difficult to understand.
Now she understood completely. Guangzhou’s prosperity relied entirely on past “single port trade” policy benefits, but water transport was quite inconvenient; whereas Shanghai’s geographical advantages were obvious—behind it lay the land of silk, tea, fish, and rice, and facing the sea was the Pacific Ocean. If she were a capitalist, she’d choose the latter, too.
“Everyone says Shanghai is the Mumbai of the Far East,” someone beside her suddenly said. “But if you ask my opinion, it’s more like the Paris of the East. Only Paris is already a sophisticated lady who’s seen all worldly pleasures, while Shanghai is a girl just awakening to love, full of passionate curiosity about this world…”
Lin Yuchan turned her head, surprised: “Mr. Hede, up so early?”
Stealing a glance at Hede—wearing a robe, eyes somewhat hazy, his casual few parallel phrases carrying an Irish accent, she could only catch the general meaning. Normally he spoke in proper London pronunciation like English teaching tapes—probably not fully awake yet.
He probably didn’t know about her nighttime activities.
Nor did he know his ship harbored an unregistered passenger.
Hede gripped the railing, deeply breathing the cold morning air, catching sight of the little white flower atop her head from the corner of his eye, finding it somewhat amusing.
He knew this was Chinese custom—mourning favored white over black. In the entire customs office, only he knew her widowhood was fake, yet she was quite committed to the act, really getting into character.
Gazing at the scenery, he asked kindly: “These past days, has anyone given you trouble?”
This young Chinese girl conducted herself low-key, but her work quality was top-notch, ranking at the top of his evaluation charts.
Though his customs employed women, he’d never hired anyone so young, and couldn’t help worrying that subordinates might become distracted, violating the strict interpersonal regulations he’d established.
Lin Yuchan understood his meaning, thought about it, and answered honestly: “I don’t know what others think, but work collaboration has been quite smooth. Um… that big-nosed Victor, sometimes when he’s had too much vodka, pulls me aside for drunken talk, wanting me to return to St. Petersburg with him… but nothing overly inappropriate. Do you have a prohibition here?”
“No.” Hede didn’t even look at her, answering decisively. “Drinking is Western culture. Victor’s efficiency doubles when he drinks—I don’t plan to prohibit him. Can you handle it?”
Lin Yuchan also smiled, replying in Cantonese: “No problem.”
The expected answer. Of course, she had to figure out such small matters herself. He wasn’t her guardian, not responsible for solving life’s difficulties.
But after a while, Hede added: “After we finish this trip, I’ll organize a Chinese etiquette class for foreign employees.”
Morning dew was slightly cool, the sun still below the horizon, but many boats were already busy on the river. Lights glowed on the Bund shore, and the wind even carried high and low human voices, seeming like fish vendors’ calls, yet not quite.
An attendant carrying a cap approached with a bow: “Sir, we can reach Jianghai Customs this morning. Shall you change clothes?”
Hede waved dismissively: “What’s the rush? Wait until before disembarking.”
Upon reaching Jianghai Customs, he’d inevitably meet a bunch of Qing officials and have to change into Chinese official robes. Those robes constrained the body like medieval armor—he’d delay as long as possible.
The attendant suggested again: “The morning wind is cool. Shall this subordinate fetch a Western coat for you, sir?”
Hede grew even more impatient, glancing at the girl beside him: “There’s a lady here dressed even more lightly—why don’t you get her one first?”
This attendant had previously served a Guangdong county magistrate, attending to his every need with great care, earning his superior’s praise. Recently transferred to serve a foreign official, he still didn’t understand maintaining social distance, frequently earning dark looks, bewildered about what he was doing wrong.
The attendant glared at Lin Yuchan, thinking: a temporary female worker widow—where would I get clothes for you?
Lin Yuchan, caught between mismatched Chinese-Western customs, felt quite bored. Leaving would seem abrupt, so she could only pretend indifference, emptying her gaze to stare at a large ship in the distance.
Hede also noticed that ship simultaneously, suddenly interested, testing her: “Miss Lin, estimating hull length and tonnage by sight, how much tax revenue do you think that ship’s cargo could yield?”
In customs’ eyes, every ocean-going cargo ship was a mobile treasury. Lin Yuchan, diligently learning odds and ends during work breaks, immediately accepted the challenge, squinting to observe—
That ship moved very fast, suddenly turning helm to reveal a row of dark cannon mouths along its side.
Lin Yuchan jumped slightly, suddenly feeling something was very wrong.
Merchant ships carrying cannons weren’t unusual, but…
BOOM!
Fire flashed, and a thunderous roar shattered the peaceful dawn.
Having ocean sailing experience, Hede immediately dropped flat, pulling both Lin Yuchan and the attendant down face-first, shouting: “Return fire!”
Simultaneously, the deck lurched violently. Lin Yuchan stumbled and rolled to the deck’s edge—Hede couldn’t catch her. Muddy river water suddenly loomed close as she fell forward, desperately grasping a protruding handle on the ground.
The deck lurched again, turning her into a flag flapping in air, then slamming her heavily back down in a dizzying impact.
Screams echoed from the hold. People gradually awakened from sleep, rushing to the deck.
The bosun shouted: “Protect Mr. Hede! Protect the officer! All hands alert! Go find Mr. Hede…”
Faintly, she heard Hede choking on water and roaring: “My documents! Cough cough Save my documents first…”
BOOM!
Another tremendous blast raised massive waves, drenching the panicked crowd and extinguishing the steamship’s great smokestack.
This was Hede’s official ship for business travel. Though armed with cannons, they were purely decorative—who would dare touch an official ship flying Qing flags?
A fast boat raced over, its occupants wearing Qing military attire, armor gleaming, swords and bows bristling—a signal boat.
“Taiping bandits are attacking Shanghai County!”
Those on the signal boat shouted at the top of their lungs: “The bandits seized foreign ships and cannons, stubbornly resisting! Shanghai Circuit Intendant orders all official and civilian vessels to retreat immediately, avoiding accidental cannon fire!”
They shouted in Northern Jiangsu dialect—nobody on this ship of Guangdong people understood.