Starting from 1618 of the Ming Dynasty

Chapter 31 First Encounter in the Capital

In the spring of the 48th year of the Wanli reign (1599), outside Chaoyang Gate in the capital.

The grayish-yellow sky hung low, like a huge old copper pot overturned overhead, making it hard to breathe. A sandstorm that swept in from beyond the Great Wall had just subsided, but the air was still filled with that suffocating earthy smell and dry, grainy texture.

This was the unique suffering caused by sandstorms in the capital. In this era of the Little Ice Age, the empire's capital was not the magnificent city one might imagine, but rather shrouded in a sickly layer of dust and haze.

Lu Yan's convoy moved slowly, mingling with the flow of people heading to the capital.

To keep a low profile, this convoy, consisting of twenty heavy wagons and fifty fierce soldiers, looked like an ordinary caravan of southern goods. Dusty tarpaulins concealed their brilliance, and even the few magnificent Liaodong warhorses were deliberately smeared with mud and ash, appearing somewhat listless.

"Is this the capital city?"

Zhao Changying sat on his horse, covering his mouth and nose with a coarse cloth, revealing only his wary eyes. He looked at the scene before him, his brows furrowed, his eyes filled with disappointment and confusion.

In his simple understanding, the capital city should be a place of auspicious omens and peaceful, prosperous lives for its people. But reality was like a blunt object, shattering his illusions.

Instead of neat rows of trees or farmland, the roadside was lined with endless shacks.

Those shacks were makeshift structures, barely constructed from rotten mats, branches, and yellow mud, low and cramped like mounds of earth. Thousands upon thousands of ragged people huddled inside, or sat listlessly by the roadside ditches. Most of them were sallow-faced and emaciated, marks left by long-term hunger.

"Where did these people come from?" Zhao Changying asked in a low voice.

"Liaodong." Lu Yan sat in the carriage, coldly observing everything through the crack in the window. "Or perhaps it's the farmers of Beizhili who have suffered from drought. Having lost their land, they can only drift towards the capital like weeds, hoping to beg for scraps of food that slip through their fingers."

Just then, the sound of rapid hoofbeats and whip cracking came from behind.

"Get out of the way! All of you, get out of the way! It's the Changning Marquis's carriage, are you blind?!"

Several wicked servants brandished whips, escorting a lavishly decorated four-wheeled carriage as it recklessly rampaged through the area. The carriage wheels rumbled loudly over the gravel road, kicking up dust that landed directly on the faces and into the bowls of the vagrants lining the roadside.

An old woman, unable to dodge in time, was struck by the whip and fell to the ground, her broken bowl shattering into pieces. She didn't cry out; she simply got up numbly and picked up a few moldy black beans scattered on the ground. The carriage didn't even stop, speeding away, the faint sounds of string and wind instruments drifting from inside.

While the rich wine and meat smell, the road with frozen bone.

This line of poetry from a thousand years ago has been brought to life outside Beijing in the 47th year of the Wanli reign, manifesting itself in this striking and nauseating scene before us.

"This is rotten to the core."

Lu Yan drew the curtains, his voice as cold as ice: "Behind the vermilion gates, meat and wine go to waste, while on the streets, frozen corpses lie. The wealth of this capital city is piled up in front of those few princely mansions and noble residences, while the common people below can't even get a bowl of thin porridge. The very foundation of this Ming Dynasty is rotten to the core."

The convoy arrived at the Chongwenmen (Hademen) customs office.

This place was the most greedy bloodsucking mouth of the Ming Dynasty, and also the first gate of hell before entering the capital. Tax collectors from the Ministry of Revenue, tax supervisors sent by the inner court, and the local ruffians who depended on them, stared at every passerby like flies.

The queue formed a long line.

"What's in that box? Open it!"

Not far ahead, a burly tax collector was roughly stabbing a rice wheelbarrow with an iron hook. With a "whoosh," white rice spilled out of the hole and mingled with the mud.

The old man pushing the cart knelt on the ground, kowtowing repeatedly: "Grandpa! This is life-saving food! Please don't poke it!"

"Enough with the nonsense! Confiscating all the contraband! Take him away!" The tax collector kicked the old man over, his eyes filled with nothing but greed, devoid of any pity.

The cries, shouts, and the sound of whips lashing flesh intertwined to create a symphony of the apocalypse.

"Master, the inspection ahead is very strict." Fan Fu ran back from the front, his face pale and his legs trembling. "Emperor Wanli wants to repair the palace, but the Ministry of Revenue has no money, and the imperial treasury is empty. Those tax collectors have gone mad, they're skimming off every last penny, even scraping oil off empty carts. Our twenty carts..."

"It's alright."

Lu Yan straightened his clothes and calmly took out the brocade pouch that Liu Cheng had given him from his sleeve.

"Take the 'easy way'."

The convoy slowly drove into the checkpoint.

"Stop! What are you doing?"

The junior officer who had been so domineering just moments before blocked their path. He squinted, his gaze sweeping over Lu Yan's heavily laden convoy as if he were eyeing a fat, juicy sheep.

"So many big boxes, sealed so tightly, you must have hidden a lot of contraband, right?" The junior officer grinned maliciously, the iron hook in his hand swinging menacingly. "Men! Take them all down! Check them one by one! Even a needle must be weighed!"

The tax collectors immediately surrounded him, all eager to get started.

Lu Yan pushed open the car door and got out.

He was neither obsequious like other merchants nor arrogant like the sons of the powerful. He wore a neat blue cloth robe, his hair was neatly tied up, and he stood upright like a pine tree, exuding the unique reserve and pride of a scholar.

"Sir, I am Lu Yan, a scholar from Shandong."

Lu Yan cupped his hands in greeting, his voice low but carrying a chill: "What's on the cart are 'samples' to be presented to Eunuch Wang of the Palace Inspectorate. What, you want to open the boxes and inspect the goods? If these items get exposed to the wind, dust, or are even slightly damaged by you uncouth people... you probably couldn't afford to pay for them even if you sold your customs office."

"The Directorate of Palace Attendants?" The junior officer paused for a moment, then sneered, sizing up Lu Yan. "Trying to scare me with a eunuch? These days, there are plenty of people pretending to be relatives of the palace! Where's your travel permit? Show it to me! Don't try to fool me!"

Lu Yan remained expressionless, took out a cloud-patterned bronze plaque from the brocade pouch, and waved it in his palm.

I didn't hand it over; I just let the other person see the pattern on it clearly.

That was the pass for the Directorate of Palace Attendants. Although the "Imperial Horse Administration" stamp on it was different from that of the Directorate of Palace Attendants, the unique style and atmosphere of the "Twenty-Four Offices" could not be imitated by any counterfeit.

That was proof of being a "house slave".

In this city where imperial power reigned supreme, eunuchs were the emperor's shadow. The tax supervisor at Chongwen Gate was himself sent by a eunuch; this was a "domestic matter."

The junior officer's pupils suddenly contracted.

He knew that sign all too well. It was a token that only their boss's boss had.

The fat on his face instantly transformed into a stiff smile; the speed of his change of expression was astonishing.

"Oh dear! It turns out we're family! Look at the mess this has made, like the flood has washed away the Dragon King's temple!"

He kicked aside the tax collector who was about to attack him, shouting, "Are you all blind?! Can't you see this is a master working for Eunuch Wang? Get out of my way!"

Immediately, he leaned closer to Lu Yan, lowered his voice, and bowed obsequiously like a shrimp: "Sir, since this is a palace mission, it's naturally exempt from inspection. Please! Quickly, open the gate and let us through!"

Lu Yan put away the bronze plaque, then slipped a fifty-tael silver note from his sleeve and quietly handed it to the junior officer.

"The brothers work hard under the wind and sun, so please accept this small amount of money for tea."

"Thank you! You're so generous, sir!" The junior officer touched the thickness of the silver note, beamed with joy, and became even more respectful.

Lu Yan turned and got into the car. The convoy swaggered through Chongwen Gate in full view of everyone, without paying a single penny of tax.

Upon entering the city, the hustle and bustle immediately envelops you.

The prosperity of Beijing is a distorted kind of prosperity. Shops line both sides of the streets, restaurant signs flutter in the wind, and storytellers in teahouses speak with loud, passionate voices. But this prosperity is built on a precarious foundation.

Lu Yan settled down in a hutong in Suzhou. It was not far from the capital and was a gathering place for officials and wealthy merchants coming to the capital on business.

At dusk, the setting sun was like blood.

Lu Yan climbed the old locust tree in the courtyard and looked north.

As your gaze passes over the layers of gray-tiled rooftops, a dazzling golden yellow suddenly catches your eye.

Forbidden City.

Bathed in the afterglow of the setting sun, the magnificent palace complex resembled a dream cast in gold, majestic, solemn, and inviolable. The glazed tiles reflected the sunset's glow, creating a stark contrast with the surrounding gray and dilapidated dwellings.

"It's so big..." Zhao Changying stood under the tree, looking up at the golden light, her eyes filled with shock. "Brother, does the emperor living inside really know what life is like for the common people outside?"

"He doesn't know. Or rather, he doesn't want to know."

Lu Yan leaned against the tree trunk, his gaze piercing through the golden halo, as if he could see into the decay taking place inside the massive building.

"Changying, look at this city. Doesn't it look like that giant winch we used to see in the mines?"

"winch?"

"It was enormous and sophisticated, once incredibly powerful, propelling the entire empire forward. But this machine has been running for over two hundred years, its gears are clogged with sand, the lubricant has long since dried up, and every part makes a screeching friction sound. It's still turning, just out of inertia."

Lu Yan's voice was deep and had a metallic quality.

"We're not here to paint it, nor to get a share of the profits before it collapses."

"What we need to do is find a way to become an indispensable new part of this machine. Maybe it's lubricant, or a drive shaft, or even... a control lever."

A gust of wind blew by, swirling up a few withered leaves, which then fell in a twilight.

Lu Yan leaped down from the tree, dusted himself off, and his gaze sharpened, a cold glint flashing in his eyes.

"Rest now. We're going to the Imperial Household Department early tomorrow morning."

"I want to give that eunuch Wang a real 'engineering management' lesson that he has never heard before."