The Bund Chronicles Chapter 23: The Raw Silk Crisis, A Path Obscured

Pan Qiliang’s eyes lit up the moment he caught sight of Liu Lihua. He quickened his pace, practically rushing toward her.

"Lihua, long time no see!" He wore a wide grin, though his words carried a rough, teasing edge. "How come you haven't grown a bit taller?"

Liu Lihua rolled her eyes at him, her tone tinged with mock annoyance. "You’ve spent all your energy growing taller, but your brain hasn't grown at all, Little Mirror."

"Little Mirror" was Pan Qiliang’s nickname. His real name was Pan Qiliang, and he led a small gang called the "Temple Gang"—a group of people scraping by around the City God Temple. They were a mix of beggars, pickpockets, and occasional errand runners for hire. In truth, they were just a collection of orphans with no one to look after them, clinging to one another for safety. Pan Qiliang, being tall, strong, and handy with a fight, naturally became their leader.

Liu Lichuan had established the Small Knife Society in Shanghai. Known for his righteousness, he had long made a name for himself in the underworld. Pan Qiliang had led his Temple Gang to align with the Small Knife Society, becoming one of their most valuable assets. These half-grown children might have seemed insignificant, but they were better at gathering intelligence than any adult—after all, no one guards their secrets against a begging child.

"Lihua, stop bickering with Little Mirror," Liu Lichuan said with a frown. He shot his sister a stern look before nodding toward Pan Qiliang. "He’s gathered some information that might be useful to Chen Lin. Come inside and talk."

Pan Qiliang grunted an acknowledgment, strode into the room, and plopped down at the table. He grabbed the teapot, poured himself a cup of hot tea, and downed it in one gulp before speaking. "A few days ago, our people saw a large ship at the Zhaojiabang wharf." He set the cup down, tapped his fingers on the edge of the table, and lowered his voice. "Under the cover of night, they loaded over twenty children onto it. Word is, it was the work of the Cantonese Gang, and they’re being shipped to Panyu."

He recounted the details he had gathered—the ship’s design, the timing of the loading—without missing a beat. Liu Lihua sat nearby, leaning forward slightly, her eyes focused and her fingertips clenched tight. She was listening more intently than anyone.

"How can you be sure those are the people we’re looking for?" she asked, her voice tinged with urgency.

Pan Qiliang scratched the back of his head, his tone earnest. "The place Brother Chuan told me to watch happens to be on the Cantonese Gang's turf. They’ve been very active lately; a few of my boys were almost snatched by them. I reckon they’ve landed a big buyer."

Despite his rugged appearance, he was sharp-witted and kept a close eye on the movements of the Cantonese Gang. Liu Lihua looked at him with an apologetic expression. "Thank you, Little Mirror."

But her heart sank. Most children sold into trafficking met a tragic end. Now that the ship had already set sail, finding them would be like looking for a needle in a haystack. She didn't even know how she would break this news to Chen Lin.

"Lihua, hasn't Chen Lin come to see you lately?" Liu Lichuan asked suddenly, his gaze fixed on his sister’s face.

Liu Lihua shook her head, her fingers twisting the hem of her dress. "No. He said last time that he was too busy with the trading house. But... the money he left hasn't run out yet."

"I see," Liu Lichuan replied. "I’ve been asking around the concessions lately. He’s quite well-known; many people know who he is. Some even say he’s made his fortune and is now cozying up to a foreign lady."

The words felt like a needle pricking Liu Lihua’s heart. She looked up and glared at her brother, her tone sharp. "Brother, how can you spread such rumors about Chen Lin behind his back? Don't you know what kind of people those are out there? They just can't stand to see someone doing well!"

"Lihua, you can’t look at it that way," Pan Qiliang interjected, his tone dismissive. "What kind of good person would go work for foreigners and become a 'fake foreign devil'?"

Liu Lichuan had long seen through his sister’s feelings, but in his heart, he felt that they and Chen Lin were not cut from the same cloth. He sighed, softening his tone, trying to be persuasive. "Lihua, I don’t mind you looking after Miaomiao. But you really shouldn't get too close to Chen Lin." He paused, then added, "You say he saved you that day, but do you know what he was doing then? Liu Wei died that very night. And just days before, Liu Wei had beaten a fisherman to death."

Having spent his life navigating the underworld and building a gang, Liu Lichuan had long ago learned to live on the edge. He only hoped his sister would marry an honest man, live a stable life, and stay clear of dangerous people and affairs.

"Brother!" Liu Lihua’s voice rose, filled with indignation. "What we do isn't necessarily safer than what Chen Lin does! And who said I liked him? You talk as if I have no choice but to marry him!"

"Alright, alright, it’s my fault for speaking out of turn." Seeing his sister truly angry, Liu Lichuan quickly changed his tune, his tone unconsciously gentler. "I’ll go tell Chen Lin this news myself later. Since he asked me to find someone to help him fix his house, there’s no need for you to make a trip."

Liu Lihua said nothing, her eyes cast down, her fingers picking at her skirt. All she could think about was how heartbroken Chen Lin would be when he found out his younger brother had been abducted to the south.

***

Off the eastern coast of Zhenhai, near the Zhoushan Islands, a junk ship with its sails fully unfurled tossed in the waves. On deck, several sailors approached the narrow cabin hatch, their heavy chains clanking.

One of the sailors shouted at the top of his lungs, "We’ll let you out to catch some air in a bit! Anyone who dares to cause trouble gets thrown to the fish! Don't even think about running; it’s nothing but sea for miles—where do you think you’re going?"

Another sailor’s tone was slightly softer, almost advisory. "Take a bit of advice from me: stay quiet and hold on until we reach the destination. Once you’re inside the master's gates, life might actually be better than what you’re used to."

Inside the pitch-black hold, there was a deathly silence. Only pairs of eyes shone in the darkness, all fixed on the narrow hatch—the only source of light. Chen Gen was among those children. He huddled in a corner, his mind already clear: he was likely being sold as a slave in the south. He just didn't know how long the journey would be, or when he would see his brother and sister again.

With a creak, the wooden hatch was pulled open, and blinding sunlight poured in, making the children squint. One by one, the ragged, thin children crawled out, moving as sluggishly as kittens just waking from a nap.

Chen Gen was the last to crawl out. The children already on deck made room for him. He sat down, silent, looking up at the sky. The sea breeze, thick with the smell of salt and fish, blew across his face, feeling cold. He took a deep breath, as if trying to etch this moment into his memory.

The road ahead was long, but he didn't succumb to the numbness and despair of the other children. Instead, he began to scheme quietly in his heart: if he were sold to a wealthy family, he would work hard to earn their trust, then secretly save money, enough for travel, and look for an opportunity to escape and return to Shanghai to find his brother and sister. No matter what, he would see them again. They were a family, and a family belonged together.

***

In the small concession, construction sites were everywhere. The sound of pile driving, sawing, and the calls of craftsmen blended into a busy hum. The exterior walls of the Dent & Co. trading house had already been whitewashed.

Earlier, Chen Lin had suggested ordering a batch of porcelain tiles from Jingdezhen and using cement to apply them to the outer walls. It would be waterproof and look grand. Although it cost a significant amount of money, Dent had agreed. Dent & Co. had always been the premier trading house in the Far East, and he had never been content, always looking for a chance to surpass the Jardine Matheson firm. This building gave him his first real hope of doing so.

Chen Lin, however, didn't have the kindness to simply help Dent. He was merely using this building as a testing ground for various architectural techniques—and as a way to train his own construction crew.

On the Bund, Chen Lin walked in a high-quality silk-padded jacket, the fabric smooth and shimmering in the sunlight. Hu San followed behind him, wearing a plain, coarse-cloth servant’s robe, carrying two large parcels, sweat beading on his forehead.

"Young Master, are we going to see the young lady today?" Hu San asked, panting, his tone teasing. "You bought so many things—all for her?"

Ever since he began working for Chen Lin, Hu San’s life had improved significantly. He earned a fixed monthly salary and didn't have to face the wind and rain or go hungry like before. People in the village said that the beating he’d taken earlier had actually been a blessing in disguise, leading him to a good master.

Chen Lin glanced back at him, a corner of his mouth curling up. "What else? Who else would I be buying all this food for?" He walked a few more steps, then suddenly stopped. "In a few days, I plan to renovate the old house. Go back and tell your wife and children to move into my residence. It will be more convenient for you to get to the construction site, and you won't have to travel so far every day. Your wife can help me manage the household and earn a wage of her own."

Hu San’s eyes lit up, and he nodded repeatedly. "Yes, yes! Thank you, Master! Thank you, Master!" This way, he could live with his family every day instead of sleeping in the construction sheds, and Chen Lin’s house would be well-managed—a win-win.

Today was another day to see Miaomiao. That small courtyard in Yangjing Town felt more like home than his own residence.

***

In the office of Dent & Co., the atmosphere was stiff. James stood before Dent, his head bowed and shoulders slumped. Dent sat in his chair, tapping his fingers rhythmically on the desk, his face so dark it looked like it might rain—the boss was clearly in a temper again.

Jenny stood by Dent's side, her voice low and soothing. "Father, it’s clear that Jardine Matheson is targeting us this time. They must have colluded with the Chinese merchants in advance."

For the past few days, James had been tasked with purchasing a batch of raw silk. However, the Zhejiang merchants who controlled the silk supply in Shanghai claimed that all of this year's remaining stock had already been bought out. This meant that Dent & Co. would not be able to obtain raw silk for at least six months.

Silk and tea were the main commodities the trading houses shipped to Europe. Now that the tea season was over, the primary goods they could bring back from the Qing Empire before next summer were raw silk. If they couldn't secure the goods, they wouldn't just lose money; it would affect Dent & Co.'s market share in Europe. And the one who had bought out the silk was none other than Jardine Matheson.

James bowed his head even lower, his voice barely a whisper. "Sir, I have spoken with those Zhejiang merchants several times, but their stance is firm. They say... they say they cannot breach their contract."

Dent snorted and slammed his palm onto the desk, splashing tea from his cup. "Breach their contract? Their eyes are only on money! Jardine offered a higher price, so they tossed us aside! Do they think I can’t afford to pay?"

Jenny gently patted her father’s arm. "Father, getting angry won't help. We need to find a way to see if we can source silk from elsewhere—even if it’s less, as long as we can keep our European clients."

Dent took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, his expression had softened slightly. "You’re right. Jenny, go contact the people in Panyu and see if they have any surplus. James, go back and talk to those Zhejiang merchants again. Offer more money! As long as they are willing to yield, the price is not an issue!"

"Yes, sir!" James replied hurriedly, turning and walking out quickly, as if afraid that if he were a second late, he would be scolded again.

Jenny watched her father’s tense profile, feeling a sense of urgency in her own heart. She knew that Jardine Matheson had struck a heavy blow; if they really couldn't get the silk, Dent & Co. would be in for a very difficult time.