〈Romance of An-ping: Miss
Jin’s Interethnic Love Story〉22

Chapter Twenty-One: The Graceful and Enchanting Blonde Lady
106
Bosman walked into the backyard of Junsheng’s clinic. This was a quiet place, surrounded on all sides by a row of tall trees. The shadows of the trees dappled the ground, and a gentle breeze passed through the gaps between the leaves, lightly brushing his cheeks. The flowers and plants in the backyard were arranged in an orderly yet varied fashion, and a few wildflowers quietly bloomed under the sunlight, bringing a fresh fragrance. Bosman’s footsteps sounded particularly clear in the quiet courtyard. His gaze swept across the surroundings, finally resting on the figure of Lalu.

He carried a set of exquisite formalwear in his hands, walking toward Lalu with a complex mixture of emotions. As he approached, he bent slightly at the waist and extended the formalwear toward her. “Lalu, you refused to accept the necklace and the gemstones last time, but please, you must accept this set of formalwear,” Bosman said, his tone sincere and firm, his eyes filled with expectation.

Lalu stood in a corner of the yard, beside her was a pot of lush green plants. She reached out to take the formalwear, looked down at it, but did not respond immediately. She lifted her head, a faint cold smile on her face, her tone carrying refusal: “Bosman, don’t waste your efforts. I will not accept you. None of you Western men are any good.” Her voice was calm, but her eyes revealed a trace of distrust.

Bosman took a deep breath, his tone even more earnest: “Lalu, I am serious. I want to be in a relationship with you.” His voice was low, carrying a determination that could not be ignored. His hands trembled slightly, as if from nervousness, and he unconsciously gripped the edges of the formalwear.

At this moment, Kali, standing nearby, overheard their conversation and stepped in to insert himself into the gap between them. His steps were steady, each one conveying his firmness and strength. Kali approached Bosman, his tone carrying a warning: “Bosman, I consider you our friend, but my sister has already said she won’t accept you. You’d better take care of yourself and stop pestering her.”

Bosman remained calm, looking at Kali and trying to explain: “Kali, listen to me. I was recently hospitalized for surgery, and Lalu took care of me attentively. I realized that Lalu is the woman I have been dreaming of. I am sincere about her. Please allow me to be in a relationship with her.”

Kali’s eyes turned cold. He reached out and forcefully poked Bosman in the chest, his tone challenging: “Bosman, listen carefully. You are a Westerner, and Junsheng is also a Westerner. He has caused Shayun so much suffering. How could I possibly let my sister fall into the same trap? Therefore, I will not agree to you being in a relationship with Lalu.”

Bosman frowned, his voice passionate: “Kali, you are being too domineering. Pursuing Lalu is my freedom.” He could not help raising his voice slightly, his emotions stirred.

Kali narrowed his eyes slightly. Upon hearing this, he suddenly rolled up his sleeves, revealing his strong arms, and walked steadily toward Bosman, his tone provocative: “I am Lalu’s brother, and I have the duty to protect her. If you do not heed my advice, then accept my challenge. Beat me, and you may pass this hurdle.”

Bosman smiled faintly, his tone firm: “Very well, Kali, I will accept.” He gently placed the formalwear aside, took off his jacket, revealing a solid muscular physique. He stood upright, ready to face the challenge.

The two of them began to assume sumo stances in the yard. The sound of their bodies colliding echoed through the quiet backyard. Bosman and Kali were evenly matched in strength, pushing and shoving each other. They struggled for a while, still unable to determine a victor. Sweat dripped down their faces, and neither relaxed their vigilance. Lalu stood to the side, shaking her head helplessly. She watched the struggle, her brows showing a trace of fatigue.

Xiuyah, hearing the commotion, curiously walked over. She stood at a distance watching for a while and could not help murmuring: “What are these two men doing fighting in the backyard?”

Shayun, hearing the noise in the backyard, could not help asking: “Xiuyah, who is arguing in the backyard?”

Xiuyah placed her hands on her hips, adopting a casual stance, and replied: “It’s Godfather and Uncle Bosman. They are having a bullfight.” Her tone carried a hint of curiosity, clearly showing interest in this “bullfight.”

Shayun furrowed her brows, clearly puzzled by this situation: “A bullfight? Over what?”

Xiuyah shrugged helplessly: “I don’t know. When I got to the backyard, they were already fighting.”

Shayun smiled helplessly: “I’ll go check it out.” She walked toward the backyard with elegant and swift steps.

When Shayun arrived in the backyard, she happened to see Kali and Bosman stopping, both panting. It was clear the struggle had ended. Both were sweating heavily, their clothes slightly disheveled. Kali patted Bosman on the shoulder, showing a faint appreciative smile: “Bosman, I didn’t expect you to be quite strong. This shows your body condition is not bad.”

Bosman wiped the sweat from his forehead, smiling in reply: “You’re not bad either, Kali, like a wild bull.” His tone carried a hint of jest. After the struggle, he clearly felt some respect for Kali.

Kali patted his clothes, brushing off the dead leaves, and said with some seriousness: “You had the courage to accept my challenge. Although we couldn’t determine a winner, your sincerity moved me. I agree to you being in a relationship with Lalu.”

Bosman smiled and nodded, his tone grateful: “Thanks, Kali. You’re quite reasonable.”

Kali suddenly changed the topic, his tone turning serious: “However, I have said this before. If you want to become Lalu’s husband, according to our local customs, you must marry into our family.”

Bosman did not hesitate at all, his tone resolute: “As long as Lalu is willing to accept me, it doesn’t matter where I live after marriage.”

Shayun walked over, looking at the two men, and teased with a smile: “Two grown men, yet acting like children.”

Lalu shook her head helplessly on the side, sighing softly: “There’s nothing I can do! I’m too lazy to advise them.” Her tone carried a touch of helplessness and humor, yet her eyes subtly revealed a deep fatigue.

107
(Ten Years Later)
The Chikan Village cemetery was quiet and solemn. A gentle breeze brushed across the moss-covered tombstones, bringing a slight chill. The surrounding trees were lush, their branches intertwined, and sunlight poured through the sparse gaps, illuminating patches of green grass. Several ancestral tablets stood quietly before the graves, as if silently guarding the land. Shayun, Xiuyah, Dalai, and Kali stood before Dabangya’s grave, hands clasped, gazes lowered, their postures slightly heavy. The surroundings were completely silent, save for the occasional bird call and the rustling of leaves in the breeze.

Shayun’s face showed slight fatigue, yet her eyes sparkled with determination. She gently closed her eyes, silently praying. Kali stood beside her, fists clenched, brows slightly furrowed, seeming burdened with concern. He spoke softly, breaking the silence: “Shayun, don’t you plan to move Junsheng’s clinic back to the village?”

Shayun slowly opened her eyes, looking toward the familiar land in the distance. Her tone was calm but carried a trace of firmness: “No! I will stay at Dayuan Port. The affairs of the village have always been handled by you and a few elders.”

Kali remained silent for a moment, then turned to look at the surrounding tombstones, saying in a deep voice: “I know you insist on staying at Dayuan Port to wait for Junsheng, but your status is different now. You are the head.” His tone carried a mix of helplessness and reluctance, but more so understanding and concern for Shayun.

Shayun shook her head gently, seemingly unwilling to discuss these matters further. She turned to Kali, her tone still firm: “I know I am the head, but that does not mean I must change everything.” Her tone carried a trace of resolve. Compared to her past gentleness, at this moment Shayun appeared more mature and decisive.

At this time, Lalu, standing nearby, spoke softly, her eyes showing some helplessness: “Kali, don’t force me. If you think I am unfit to be the head, you can convene the elders’ council and re-elect the head.” Her tone was calm, but the determination behind it could not be ignored.

Kali’s brows furrowed slightly. He turned to look at Lalu, his tone carrying some anxiety: “Shayun, you know I don’t mean that. I just don’t want to hear the villagers complain about you behind your back.” His voice revealed concern, and his hands unconsciously clenched, as if wanting to entrust all his strength to her.

Lalu smiled faintly, her gaze soft yet still resolute. She reached out and lightly patted Kali’s shoulder, her tone gentle but carrying strong conviction: “Let them be.” She lightly shook her head, seemingly accustomed to such challenges and doubts. Her posture was relaxed yet commanding, as if in the stillness of this cemetery, she had reached a tacit understanding with these disputes.

Kali was momentarily stunned, then sighed deeply. His hands relaxed, and his tone softened: “Alright, since you say so, I won’t say more.” He looked at Shayun, his gaze revealing resignation but mostly understanding and support. He lightly patted his chest, suppressing his concerns, ready to continue accompanying her.

The four of them continued to silently pray before the graves. The surrounding air grew ever quieter, as if time itself had stopped on this sacred land.

108
On the streets of the major port town, it was the afternoon, and sunlight poured down, illuminating the busy marketplace and the harbor. In the distance, ships gently swayed on the sea, and the sea breeze carried a salty scent. On both sides of the street were various shops, and vendors loudly called out, selling local fruits, handicrafts, and all kinds of seafood. People came and went, the scene bustling with activity.

Xiuyah, dressed in traditional Siraya attire, walked quietly among the crowd, the long hem of her skirt swaying lightly with each step. Her golden hair glistened in the sunlight, forming a sharp contrast with the everyday market scene around her. A few passing foreign merchants stopped in their tracks, their gazes inadvertently falling upon her.

Tom pointed with his hand, his tone tinged with surprise: “Look! That blonde girl, well-proportioned, and with a sweet face.”

Durand’s eyes flickered slightly, his brow furrowing, as he quietly asked: “Don’t you think there’s something a bit strange?”

Vincent glanced sideways and asked thoughtfully: “You mean her clothing?”

Durand looked at Xiuyah’s attire and could not help speaking: “Exactly. Judging by her clothing, she should be a local, but her blonde hair, facial features, and figure are clearly not like the people here.”

Tom continued staring at Xiuyah, a hint of admiration in his eyes: “Hmm, indeed. Maybe she’s the wife of some foreign merchant?”

Weber raised his eyebrows slightly, his tone tinged with curiosity: “Could she be married to a local?”

Durand shook his head, seemingly unconvinced by such speculation: “I haven’t heard of that, but perhaps she’s of mixed blood.”

Tom smiled and responded: “Hmm! Could be. Let’s ask some local merchants, maybe we can find out more.”

Vincent smiled, hands in his pockets, his tone teasing: “Tom, you seem quite interested in her, huh?”

Tom pouted, feigning indifference, and said casually: “Come off it! Vincent, aren’t you interested in her?”

Tom’s tone carried a hint of provocation, and he lightly pinched the pipe in his hand, a gesture casual yet unconsciously challenging.

Vincent let out a light chuckle, slightly shrugging, a playful glint in his eyes: “I’m not particularly interested in her, but the way you’re acting could easily be misinterpreted.”

Tom helplessly pouted, reached up to adjust his collar, then took a deep drag from his pipe and replied in a slightly teasing tone: “Maybe I just find her special, but you know, the women here always have unique characteristics.”

At that moment, Xiuyah heard the discussion behind her but did not turn around, merely frowning slightly. Her steps were light yet unhurried, her posture soft yet confident, as if she had long grown accustomed to the gazes around her, still keeping her own rhythm.

As a cart passed down the street, a sudden clamor momentarily drew the four foreign merchants’ attention. Tom headed toward a local street-side shop, seemingly deciding to investigate further.

At the same time, the church door creaked slightly as young foreign merchant Williams jumped down from a bullock cart, dressed in the simple cloth garments typical of merchants, his face bearing a trace of fatigue yet a pleasant smile. The cart owner followed, unloading bundles of grain and bolts of cloth. Williams moved toward the church with practiced ease, his tall figure forming a striking contrast with the surrounding scene.

Williams bent slightly and greeted Father Pliny standing at the doorway: “Father Pliny, I’ve brought some grain and cloth, these are for the church.”

Pliny looked up at Williams, a kind smile on his face, his gaze gently sweeping over the items in Williams’ hands, then responded: “Thank you, Williams. Come inside to rest for a bit? It’s so hot outside, you must be tired after walking.”

Williams entered the church, hearing the children singing hymns along with the organ. He walked toward the direction of the prayer room, standing at the doorway to listen to the beautiful melody. The tone of the organ intertwined with the children’s voices, as if enveloping the entire church in a peaceful atmosphere. Williams could not help but furrow his brow slightly, curiosity in his eyes.

Williams whispered to Pliny, his tone carrying a hint of surprise and admiration: “What a beautiful girl! Father, may I ask, is she…?”

Pliny turned and answered gently: “She is Xiuyah, the daughter of Dr. Sha Yun of Junsheng Clinic.” He pointed to Xiuyah and smiled as he continued: “She often comes here to help. This child is very well-behaved and intelligent.”

Williams furrowed his brow slightly, curious about Xiuyah’s golden hair, his gaze following her figure, his tone tinged with puzzlement: “How does she have blonde hair?”

Pliny nodded lightly, a hint of sentiment in his voice: “Her father came from the Netherlands, but the girl has never met her biological father since birth. Her mother passed away when she was very young, and the child grew up within our community.”

Williams let out a soft sigh, a trace of sympathy in his eyes: “I see. Her background is truly pitiful.” He stroked his chin, paused in thought, then asked: “Then how did she come to help at the church?”

Pliny displayed a gentle smile, his eyes full of warmth: “A few days ago, she voluntarily came to help at the church. When she was little, she often wandered around here.” He recalled the past, his tone filled with appreciation: “She is a kind and intelligent child, always willing to help others.”

Williams’ gaze softened slightly, and he nodded, feeling more admiration and curiosity toward the girl.

109
Inside the reception room of Junsheng Clinic, the surroundings were simply yet warmly arranged, the wooden furniture exuding a faint resin scent. On the table sat a freshly picked flower, its petals slightly wilted, seemingly in harmony with the quiet, serene moment of this space. Sha Yun and Kahl sat on one side, a tea set placed before them, a copper kettle gently steaming as it boiled water, occasionally letting out a crisp hissing sound. Sunlight streamed through the window, casting mottled patterns on the wooden floor.

A knock sounded at the door, followed by the appearance of the elderly German merchant Vincent and his son Vincent, carrying delicate gift boxes, entering the reception room. The elder Vincent had a polite smile on his face, walking steadily, his eyes showing a mix of confidence and humility. His son Vincent appeared somewhat nervous, tightly holding the gift box, his posture slightly stiff.

The elder Vincent bent slightly, smiling, and greeted Sha Yun respectfully but with a hint of urgency: “Doctor Sha Yun, I have long admired your reputation here. I and my younger son Vincent have come to formally seek your daughter’s hand for him.” He gently placed the gift box on the table, his gaze resting on Sha Yun’s face, seemingly awaiting her reaction.

Kahl frowned, his displeasure obvious on his face. He stared coldly at the father and son, his tone carrying a warning not to be ignored: “You foreign merchants are persistent, one after another, all trying to make moves on my daughter. I will never agree to her marrying a foreigner.” His voice was heavy and sharp, signaling that this request was not open to negotiation.

He gestured slightly with his hand, as if completely pushing away the proposal. This sudden response froze the atmosphere instantly; the elder Vincent’s expression shifted slightly, while his son lowered his head, his eyes full of embarrassment.

Sha Yun gently adjusted her glasses, looking at Kahl with soft eyes, and spoke quietly: “Guests are guests, Kahl, don’t be like this.” Her tone was gentle yet filled with irrefutable reason. She stood lightly beside Kahl, attempting to calm the tension about to erupt.

She turned to the elder Vincent, smiling slightly, her tone calm: “Kahl is my daughter’s godfather; his temper isn’t very good. Please forgive him.” She deliberately used a lightly dismissive tone to defuse the awkward situation.

The elder Vincent laughed awkwardly, nodded slightly, his tone tinged with embarrassment yet also resigned: “It’s alright, really, it’s alright.” He adjusted his collar, then lowered his head, seemingly silently regulating his emotions.

Sha Yun continued gently: “My daughter is still young, there’s no rush to find her a husband, and regarding marriage, I respect her own thoughts and choices.” Her tone carried a hint of firmness and gentleness, showing her stance as a mother, yet also respecting her daughter’s independent decision.

The elder Vincent nodded, looking understanding, his tone warm: “Of course, young people usually have their own ideas.” His response contained a hint of helplessness, clearly realizing that things would not be as easy as he hoped.

However, Kahl’s tone remained harsh, his pace quickened, full of undeniable firmness: “You need not waste your efforts. You foreigners are unreliable; we will not marry into foreign families.” His words were full of rejection, having already decided the outcome, leaving no room for rebuttal.

Sha Yun furrowed her brow lightly, sighed softly, and walked to Kahl’s side, gently patting his shoulder, her tone soft yet firm: “Kahl, just say a little less.” Her eyes showed some helplessness, but also indicated her attitude toward the issue—despite Kahl’s strong emotions, she chose a rational way to balance the conversation.

Kahl waved his hand, still displeased, but evidently, under Sha Yun’s persuasion, his tone softened slightly. The elder Vincent relaxed slightly, pushing the gift box to the center of the table, his eyes filled with anticipation, waiting for Sha Yun’s response.

110
In the backyard, the air was filled with the fresh fragrance of plants. A few bamboo stalks swayed gently in the breeze, making a rustling sound. Several sparrows hopped on the fence, their occasional chirps breaking the silence. Kahl squatted on the ground, organizing a pile of dried herbs, the fresh scent of the medicinal plants blending with the fragrance of the earth. His expression was heavy, brows tightly furrowed, clearly in a bad mood. Beside him stood Lalu and the Boschmann couple. Lalu held their little daughter Jiamei, who gazed curiously at the herbs on the ground, occasionally reaching out to touch them.

Lalu gently rocked Jiamei’s carrier strap and looked at Kahl, asking softly: “Brother, what’s wrong? Why do you have such a sour look on your face?” Her tone was full of concern, though her eyes held some puzzlement.

Kahl still did not look up, replying in a low voice: “Earlier, another pair of foreign merchant father and son came to propose to Sha Yun, and I drove them away.” His voice carried a mix of helplessness and anger, clearly still upset about the matter.

Lalu glanced at Kahl’s expression, sighed softly, and advised gently: “Oh! Do you really need to be so angry?” She raised her hand to gently pat Jiamei’s back, as if soothing her unease.

Kahl placed the herbs heavily into the grass basket, without looking up, saying: “I don’t want Xiuyah to marry a foreigner!” His tone was somewhat agitated, fingers unconsciously rubbing the herbs, as if this helped release his inner anxiety.

Lalu raised her eyebrows slightly, her tone gentle yet rational: “Not all foreigners are bad. Besides, Xiuyah herself will choose her marriage partner. Why are you worrying so much?” She lowered her head, looked at Jiamei, and gently held her small hand, softly redirecting attention to her own daughter.

Boschmann stood aside, looking down at the tools in his hands, suddenly agreeing: “My wife is right; many foreigners are good people, like me.” He patted his chest, his tone slightly self-mocking and resigned, seemingly defending himself.

Kahl suddenly looked up, a challenging glint in his eyes, his tone firm: “That’s different. Xiuyah is my daughter, of course I care about her marriage.” He straightened up, his gaze like steel, revealing a strong protective instinct.

Lalu shook her head lightly, her tone still gentle yet insistent: “Brother, you may care for Xiuyah, but as for whom she dates and chooses to marry, you must respect Xiuyah’s own thoughts.” She adjusted Jiamei’s carrier strap gently, turning sideways to meet Kahl’s gaze, a soft appeal in her eyes.

Kahl remained silent for a moment, his expression stubborn, his tone growing heavier: “Anyway, I will not let Xiuyah marry a foreigner, to give her the same fate as Sha Yun.” His voice was filled with fear and unease for the future, a fate beyond his control already looming.

Boschmann remained silent for a moment, then lifted his head, his tone calm yet careful: “I must speak fairly. Whether Xiuyah marries a foreigner is not the point. If she truly likes someone and will live happily after marriage, that is what matters.” His reasoned and reflective tone slightly eased the scene, giving a clear sense of logic.

Lalu listened to Boschmann, nodded slightly, and said more lightly: “Brother, to be honest, Boschmann is more insightful than you.” She smiled faintly, her eyes playful yet sincere.

Kahl raised his brow, his tone tinged with disagreement: “I will find a local match for Xiuyah, so she won’t leave here and cross the seas to a foreign land.” His tone was so firm it was almost irrefutable, revealing a father’s anxiety and concern for his daughter’s future.

Lalu shook her head gently, her gaze passing through Kahl to the distant future, her tone soft but filled with wisdom: “But brother, Xiuyah’s choice is the most important.”