Lin Yuchan dazedly pulled out a foreign cloth handkerchief from her bosom and presented it with both hands.
She’d hidden in the corner the whole time, watching like a movie, her thoughts unable to keep up with Su Minguan’s actions. Even after he single-handedly challenged dozens and methodically took down the entire Yixing Shipping, she still felt like dreaming, her mind full of:
…Truly worthy of professional rebel origins—”Jin Lanhe’s successor” wasn’t called that for nothing!
Su Minguan wasn’t as composed as she imagined. He breathed slowly, calming his heartbeat from extreme tension. Strings in his mind remained taut, reviewing each command from moments before. He shouldn’t have overlooked anything…
Unconsciously, sweat gathered at his jaw and dripped into his collar.
He casually took her handkerchief, opening it, about to wipe sweat, when he suddenly saw the chipped jade lock wrapped inside.
Once again stained with blood, once again cleaned by her.
His eyes inexplicably itched. Biting his lip, he turned away, carefully tying the jade lock behind his neck and tucking it into his collar.
“There’s blood on your shoes,” he said gently. “Don’t forget to find clothes to wrap them before leaving, so people won’t see.”
Lin Yuchan nodded blankly, her heart racing wildly, wondering, tremblingly, what posture she should adopt to thank him again for saving her life.
“Young Master…”
Just starting, Su Minguan unceremoniously interrupted.
“You’re overthinking. It wasn’t because of you. I’d been displeased with them for a long time—I should thank you for bringing me the gun.”
Lin Yuchan said “oh” and forced a smile: “Don’t mention it.”
It was somewhat amusing. How could he admit to heroic deeds? Otherwise, with his principle of one good deed per year, the next quota would have to wait until the twentieth century.
Under supervision from Guangdong subordinates, lackeys drew water from Suzhou Creek, methodically washing floors in an orderly fashion. The entire warehouse contained only the brushing sounds of floor scrubbing.
There was also the unlucky fellow with half a shoulder blown off who, after awakening, dragged his mangled flesh across the ground moaning in agony, suddenly crawling to Lin Yuchan’s feet and reaching with his severed hand toward her foot.
She jumped up abruptly, nearly screaming.
Su Minguan immediately pulled her away, bending to look—this man clearly wouldn’t survive.
The moaning ceased abruptly. He gently inserted the knife, sending the man west.
“Afraid?” He glanced at her sideways, his eyes calm as still water.
Lin Yuchan stubbornly shook her head, but her trembling breath couldn’t be hidden. She’d started by landing among corpses, thinking she’d become desensitized. But seeing bodies was one thing—watching executions was another.
“I told you not to think me too kind,” he said. “Cantonese have fought foreigners for twenty years—any man with backbone has wielded blades and seen blood.”
Lin Yuchan handed him another handkerchief to wipe his hands.
Guangdong truly deserved to be China’s revolutionary birthplace, ruthless enough.
“By the way,” she gathered courage to say, “earlier I heard a girl…”
Just then, a subordinate came to request instructions—several captives and girls were still confined in the warehouse, asking how Jin Lanhe wished to handle them.
“Should we keep feeding them?” Su Minguan raised his chin, putting on a slight air. “Blindfold them, walk them two li away before releasing, threaten them according to custom so they won’t dare report to authorities—do I need to teach you?”
The subordinate quickly nodded and complied.
As for those villains who’d abused the girl… he didn’t mention them.
Lin Yuchan hesitated to speak.
Su Minguan didn’t even need to look at her, chuckling coldly.
“Female Bodhisattva, forgive me,” he said. “Right now we need to stabilize morale—this isn’t the time for fairness.”
Strangely, knowing her kindness was inappropriate, he unexpectedly didn’t feel annoyed. After thinking, he patiently added a sentence, speaking in her ear: “There’ll be plenty of time to handle things slowly later—no rush for now.”
Lin Yuchan pressed her lips together and nodded lightly.
Young Master Minguan was called Little White but was actually pitch black. In just one short hour, her bottom line had been continuously lowered. Even if he gave her a knife now, she estimated she’d dare follow suit in killing.
“Later?” But she sensitively noticed his wording. “What do you plan to do later?”
Only then did Su Minguan have to consider this question he’d been avoiding. He ordered everyone to maintain alert positions while he slipped through the hidden door behind the shipping office counter.
The area was now empty, still retaining opium scents, dice, and pai gow scattered on the floor, yet all keys had reached his hands.
He opened drawers, comparing valuables with ledgers one by one, briefly flipping through various documents and records, pressing his forehead with a growing headache.
The “Jin Lanhe” title was too heavy—he’d thought daily about abdication since Guangzhou, but helplessly, no one dared step forward to take over. Today’s emergency had forced him to use this name to intimidate, further binding himself tighter.
He randomly flipped through sailing schedules, muttering: “Yixing is Hongmen property—can’t sell it… Don’t know where to find Jiangsu-Zhejiang branches… Should I send word to Guangzhou to call Uncle Cheng as boss, properly manage these rotten boys—he did canal transport before anyway… Ah, Uncle Cheng is probably in the countryside.”
He suddenly raised his eyes, bright light gleaming as he smiled at Lin Yuchan.
“A’Mei, when did you learn gun disassembly?” He brought out the blood-stained foreign gun, turning the muzzle toward himself and offering the handle to her, asking with a smile: “Want it?”
The Hongmen boss who’d just single-handedly challenged the Clean Gang stronghold, cold sweat still on his nose tip, fingers still bloody, turned around and donned the skin of an elegant young man again—eyes curving with an innocent, seductive smile.
Lin Yuchan nearly sat on the ground, very moved as she refused: “I want to live properly.”
She felt this place couldn’t be lingered in. Suddenly remembering something, she asked urgently: “What time is it now?”
Just as she finished speaking, crackling firecrackers sounded from the street outside.
Moments later, more lively firecrackers erupted. Like pearls falling on jade plates, gunpowder smoke rose skyward, the entire Suzhou Creek waterfront seemingly lit with night illumination, silver flowers dancing wildly, outlining trees and rooftops.
Suzhou Creek remained full of moored boats. That large sand junk’s mast stood tall—behind the mast, suddenly blazed a cluster of fireworks, becoming a celebratory glow stick. The bow rose proudly like a festival dragon boat.