Turbulence on the Bund Chapter 13: A Fateful Encounter, Unveiling True Ability

As he walked, the hairs on the back of Chen Lin’s neck suddenly stood on end. What would those servant soldiers do to him once he entered their camp? The jokes about Third Brother on the internet flashed through his mind, and instinctively he clenched his legs. For a real man, death is not terrifying; the most frightening thing is to die with your backside exposed.

These men wouldn't even spare a steel pipe, let alone a young man like himself.

The servant soldiers’ camp was by the riverbank, far from the British troops’ camp. The British clearly had foresight, positioning their camp upwind.

Here, the crude wooden fence was crooked and askew, and from a distance, the stench of excrement mixed with curry filled the air.

Servant soldiers in coarse cloth uniforms squatted in twos and threes. When they saw Chen Lin being brought over, they all looked up with malicious grins in their eyes.

Behind him, Hu San was still sniffling, apologizing: “Young master, I’m sorry… It was my fault. If there’s a next life, I’ll serve you like a beast of burden…”

Chen Lin glanced sideways at him. Hu San’s face was bruised and swollen, blood crusted at the corner of his mouth, his eyes full of guilt.

“No need to serve as a beast of burden in the next life,” Chen Lin’s voice softened. “Just treat your family’s water buffalo better from now on. Do you know why they beat you?”

When he mentioned that Indians worshipped cows as gods, Hu San was instantly dumbfounded.

This honest country boy from Shanghai’s outskirts stared wide-eyed and open-mouthed as if he could fit an egg in his mouth. “Worship cows? Don’t they have anything else to worship back home? At least worship the earth god! Who raises cattle to worship them? How would they eat if they don’t work?”

“Don’t be surprised. They keep cows to collect dung, which they make into dung cakes to eat. Cow urine is their tonic.”

“Ah!”

“Heaven above, I was wrong. My death is not in vain.”

Chen Lin nearly laughed at him. Just as he was about to respond, the path ahead was suddenly blocked.

The concession wasn’t large; Second, Third, and Fourth Roads hadn’t been built yet. There was only one main road, so he collided head-on with a furious James.

“Huh?”

At the moment their eyes met, James’s blue eyes widened like saucers, and the civilized stick in his hand fell to the ground with a slap.

Behind him was the interpreter Lao Huang. The two were hastily walking south and didn’t expect to run into the bound Chen Lin.

Yet, hope ignited in Chen Lin’s eyes. He deliberately squeezed out a pleading expression, voice trembling: “Mr. James! Save me!”

The servant soldiers escorting him looked up at the sound. Seeing James, they immediately shrank down.

A red-headed servant soldier hurriedly loosened Chen Lin’s arm, bowing and scraping as he explained, “Mr. James, this fellow was obstructing official business. We were about to detain him…”

In their eyes, whites were noble; they wouldn’t care about the lives of yellow-skinned lowly people.

They had long ranked people: British masters first, other whites second, themselves according to caste below, and Qing Chinese at the bottom—after all, having fought alongside their masters and won, they thought their contribution was greatest.

“You damned scoundrels! Blind fools!” James’s roar exploded as he stepped forward and slapped the servant soldier.

The slap whooshed through the air, landing on the dark round face of the servant soldier, spinning him half around. Holding his face, his eyes glazed over.

“S-sorry, Mr. James!” The beaten servant soldier didn’t dare be angry; instead, he bowed deeply, cold sweat trickling down his face.

“This is an employee of the Tandee Trading Company!” James pointed at Chen Lin, spitting in the servant soldier’s face. “Who gave you the courage to arrest him? Let him go!”

When the ropes were untied, Chen Lin rubbed his numb wrists and caught sight of Hu San still bound. He quickly gestured to James, “Sir, this is my assistant. Could we… both be released?”

James glanced at the bound Hu San and waved his hand: “Release them! All of them!”

The servant soldiers didn’t dare linger. They hurriedly untied Hu San and fled back to their camp as if chased by a demon.

Hu San fell to his knees with a thud, about to kowtow to Chen Lin, but Chen Lin pulled him up. “Get up! A real man doesn’t let his knees go weak.” He patted Hu San’s shoulder. “From now on, when working with me, remember one rule: don’t ask what you shouldn’t ask, and don’t say what you shouldn’t say.”

Hu San nodded repeatedly, gratitude almost spilling from his eyes.

“Let’s go, the boss is getting impatient.” James grabbed Chen Lin’s arm and headed toward the trading company, their polished shoes clicking on the gravel road.

The wind off the Bund carried the tang of river water, refreshing the spirit.

The newly opened main road was bumpy and uneven. The Chinese laborers bent over laying crushed stone. When they saw James, they instinctively quickened their pace.

Far on the river, several small steamers puffed black smoke, their canvas sails billowing like the bellies of great beasts in the wind.

Inside the Tandee Trading Company, however, the atmosphere was oppressive.

The temporary office building made of wood smelled of sawdust and pine resin.

Mr. Tandee stood with his hands behind his back before a pile of blueprints, his red face purple with fury.

He jabbed a finger at the outline of a building on the blueprint, roaring at the balding man before him: “Three months! I’m only giving you three months! Jardine Matheson is moving into a new building. Do you want me to watch them laugh at me in this rotten shack?”

The balding man was the project manager, Taylor. His shirt on the back was soaked with cold sweat, and beads of sweat rolled down his bald head.

His lips trembled, unable to utter a complete sentence for a long time.

Honestly, it would only make the boss angrier. If he boasted and failed to deliver on time, it would be a short pain; if he admitted the truth, it would be a long agony. Either way, no good outcome awaited.

In the end, Taylor decided the short pain was better.

He whispered, “Sir… I’ve ordered them to work 24 hours a day… but the Chinese foremen are too stubborn. They insist on the old ways… they’ve never even seen a four-story building…”

“Don’t tell me about difficulties!” Tandee spun around suddenly, pounding his fist on the table, rattling the ink bottle. “I pay you a high salary to solve problems!”

“The only solution… is to change workers,” Taylor’s voice was as soft as a mosquito’s. “The Chinese laborers don’t follow the blueprints and keep altering the process…”

“Change them? Where do you want me to find replacements? Should I go move bricks myself?” Tandee’s roar echoed off the wooden walls, causing the window paper to buzz. The surrounding staff shrank their necks and tried to hide under tables, fearing the anger would fall on them.

At that moment, a clear voice with the husky edge of youth suddenly rang out: “Mr. Tandee, I can take charge of this project and guarantee completion in two months.”

James’s face drained white. He hurriedly tried to pull Chen Lin back, but it was too late.

Tandee’s hawk-like eyes sharply shot over, scanning Chen Lin up and down with a scrutinizing gaze. “Who are you?”

James quickly stepped forward, voice trembling: “Boss, this is Chen Lin, the interpreter I mentioned.”

“Chen Lin, my Christian name is Jack.” Chen Lin stepped forward half a pace, standing straight and speaking with neither servility nor fear.

His gaze was clear and calm, lacking the usual Chinese servility or fear when facing foreigners, more like a Western youth familiar with the world.

Tandee had seen many Chinese—arrogant, obsequious, numb, foolish—but this boy exuded a different kind of strength.

There was not a trace of timidity on his youthful face; instead, it shone with confidence.

Taylor nearly wept with joy, internally regarding Chen Lin as a savior—if someone could take over this mess, he’d be willing to marry off his daughter to him.

Tandee’s brow furrowed coldly as ice. “Jack Chen, you’re late on your first day.”

“Sir, please listen…”

“I don’t listen to excuses,” Tandee interrupted, drumming his fingers on the table. “Being late means punishment.”

Chen Lin met his gaze without flinching. “Sir, you want solutions. I believe you won’t mind such a small matter as being late.”

Tandee stared at him for half a minute, then suddenly smiled—a smile laced with some appreciation and slyness. “Five silver dollars a month. Taylor, hand the project over to him. Jack, you’ll manage these Chinese laborers. But if other departments need interpreting, you’re still to do that.”

No raise and such a heavy burden to bear—this boss was indeed harsh.

But there was not a hint of dissatisfaction on Chen Lin’s face. He nodded slightly. “No problem, sir.”

James breathed a sigh of relief beside him, quietly patting Chen Lin’s arm, eyes full of admiration for his boldness.

Taylor was even more relieved, hastening forward to shake Chen Lin’s hand with a grip that nearly crushed his bones. “Jack, I’ll organize all the documents for you right away—the worker list, blueprints, materials… all of it!”

Chen Lin looked at the chaotic office before him and then at the construction site outside the window. A sharp glint flickered in his eyes.

The first assignment after his transmigration would start with this hot potato. Two months? That was plenty.

Youth must be sharp and radiant.