Chapter 1728: How Can the People Find Peace?

Narrow alleys, crowded dwellings, tattered awnings, rotting thatched roofs, streets flowing with filthy water...

Livestock dung and human urine were visible everywhere, and the air was thick with a nauseating stench.

On the main street of the central ward, there were shops and homes, children chasing and playing, and the bustle of everyday life. Passersby hurried along with few pauses, beggars pleaded in the corners, and even before some low-lying houses, prostitutes were soliciting customers.

Liu Yang simply stood in the street, his expression somewhat gloomy, his face very sour—indeed, almost at a loss. Looking around, everything he saw bore no resemblance to the flourishing age of Kaibao. Poverty, chaos, and filth presented themselves before his eyes in the most direct manner possible.

Such a scene, it had to be said, made Liu Yang's heart feel stifled and deeply uncomfortable. The flourishing age of Kaibao had always given him the impression of a realm at peace, with abundant goods and a prosperous people, a strong nation with wealthy citizens—yet here, within the very capital, at the feet of the Son of Heaven, there existed such a place of destitution and hardship.

When Kaifeng was first built back then, how magnificent and splendid it had been, how bright and glorious. As one of the foremost great cities of the realm, Kaifeng had always been a symbol of national strength and popular prosperity, a source of pride for the entire court—and in Liu Yang's own heart, it had always carried a measure of pride as well.

Yet the situation within this Le'an Ward tore mercilessly through that veneer radiating the glory of the Great Han, laying bare in bloody fashion the truths that had been ignored or that people were unwilling to face—its depth of suffering cutting straight to the bone.

The Great Han's problems were hardly limited to the barbarian chaos and popular unrest in the northwest, nor was this an isolated case. What irritated Liu Yang was that none of these situations had ever been reported to him.

He had governed for many years and considered himself diligent, and under Emperor Liu's influence, he had always paid attention to the people's livelihood. But now it seemed that it was still too little, his vision still too narrow. If even at the feet of the Son of Heaven there was such an ugly side, then what of the vast realm beyond?

The court was not entirely one of reporting only good news and concealing bad, but most attention was placed on "matters of state." Truly few people had the energy to spare for the suffering of the common folk.

No matter how high the tune was sung, no matter how politically correct the rhetoric, attention to the common people was ultimately limited. Seeing a spot reveals the whole leopard—if the Eastern Capital was like this, there was little reason to be overly optimistic about other places.

"Father!"

His sleeve was tugged. Liu Yang snapped back to attention and looked down to see Liu Wenji covering his nose, gazing at him, clearly struggling to endure the foul odor lingering around his nostrils. Evidently, for Liu Wenji, such conditions were something he had never encountered before.

"Put your hand down!" For some reason, a trace of anger rose in Liu Yang's heart as he scolded.

Liu Wenji was startled, feeling that his father was somewhat frightening at this moment. He hastily lowered his hand and dared not speak. Seeing this, Liu Yang took a deep breath and said with some gravity: "You are used to the fragrance of honeyed flowers at home, so naturally you cannot bear these filthy smells. But these odors, you must smell them. You only suffer for a moment, and if you endure, it will pass—but the common folk living on these streets of this ward, they must endure them year after year."

Liu Wenji naturally did not quite understand what Liu Yang was saying, but seeing his father speak so seriously, he obediently nodded. After that, he simply let Liu Yang hold his hand and followed silently—even though the stench would not go away and his shoes and robes were getting dirty, he made no further complaint.

Passing through the streets and circling several more times within the ward, Liu Yang finally stopped before a civilian dwelling. Cooking smoke was rising in wisps, and the fragrance of rice slightly diluted the strange odor in the air. Through the open doorway, one could see the cramped layout within—there were quite a few people, but most of those moving about were the elderly, the weak, women, and children; the able-bodied men had largely gone out to earn a living.

Just as he was about to step forward and enter for a visit to observe the people's condition, a commotion came from the corner of the alley. Looking from afar, it was a brawl—more precisely, three men were beating a young man, punching and kicking with great ferocity, cursing incessantly. The one being beaten, aside from letting out a few cries of pain and wailing, could only curl up and shrink back, enduring the abuse.

Standing beside his father, Liu Wenji was inevitably drawn by the commotion, curiously peering over. Once he understood the situation, he instinctively shrank behind Liu Yang. Liu Yang gently patted Liu Wenji's head to comfort him, his expression still stern. Toward such a scene, he no longer felt much anger—he simply watched calmly.

On both sides of the alley, many residents poked their heads out, but they only watched. No one stepped forward to stop it. Such ruffian brawls and hooligan bullying seemed to have long become commonplace. The common folk had their own ways of survival—if it did not concern them, they would never lightly invite trouble they could not afford.

The guards around him had long since gathered close. Wang Yue, having already sensed the Crown Prince's foul mood, finally spoke up: "Your Highness, this place is a mix of fish and dragons. To avoid any mishap, it would be best to leave for now. I will send someone to resolve this matter!"

"Resolve?" Liu Yang immediately retorted: "How would you resolve it? Can you save that one man, or save all the people of this entire ward?"

"Is this a ward of the Great Han, under the jurisdiction of the Kaifeng Prefecture?"

Clearly, Liu Yang was asking himself, and also reflecting on himself.

However, Liu Yang was ultimately a compassionate man. He did not remain sunk in sorrow for long. Seeing that those men still had not stopped, still throwing punches and kicks, he still sent guards forward to intervene.

Before they could set out, several more people appeared, dressed in black uniforms—patrol constables. The leader was a man who looked rather rough and burly; evidently, he had come upon hearing the noise.

The constables' reaction was also quite straightforward. Without even calling for a halt, several of them charged up and struck the three men who had been doing the beating, then followed with a thorough beating—not just fists and feet, but even the sabers at their waists were used, the sheaths not spared either, viciously landing blows on those three men.

Even more piercing screams rang out through the alley. Only when they had tired themselves out did the leading constable step on one of the men, panting heavily, and snarl viciously: "Why are you making trouble and beating people?"

That layer of black skin on their bodies was a symbol of authority, extremely intimidating. Not daring to meet the constable's gaze, the man said fearfully: "This fellow owes money and won't pay it back."

Hearing this, the constable immediately said to the man who had been beaten earlier: "Why don't you pay the money back?"

That man was already battered and bruised, his breathing faint, yet he dared not refuse to answer, saying in a small voice: "I have no money, sir!"

The constable roughly kicked the leading ruffian again and said coldly: "Are you lot disregarding the government's rules? I told you long ago—don't cause trouble. Do you want to go to the great prison, or be consigned to the penal labor camp?"

"No, no, we dare not!" Hearing this, the leading ruffian shook his head repeatedly and begged for mercy.

Seeing this, the constable finally moved his foot off the man's chest and said coldly: "Whatever grievances you have, I don't care. But I warn you again—keep yourselves in line, and don't go looking for trouble!"

"Yes! Yes!"

"Seen enough of the show? All of you, disperse!" Looking around, the constable barked at the onlookers. The heads that had poked out retracted as quickly as if shocked by electricity, and doors and windows were shut.

Having lectured them and shown off his authority, the constable seemed satisfied. He beckoned to his subordinates and sauntered off slowly. A few of his men even flexed their wrists, as if they had not had their fill of fighting.

Those ruffians scrambled to their feet, and despite the pain that would not stop, they still remembered to put on humble postures and respectfully see the constables off. Once the constables were far away, the leader gave the "debtor," still lying on the ground, another hard kick: "All your fault, you bastard, getting me beaten! Take him away!"

His two underlings, still not satisfied, each gave the man a kick as well, then hoisted him up. Four figures quickly disappeared around the street corner.

Liu Yang stood at a distance, taking in the entire affair. Even after the alley was completely empty, he still stood there, not moving an inch. His attendants all instinctively lowered their heads, not daring to speak.

Liu Yang was not a man prone to anger, but at this moment, a blaze of fury filled his chest. After a long while, he asked Wang Yue: "This is Anmin Ward, isn't it?"

"Yes, Your Highness, that is correct!" Wang Yue answered, almost with his neck tucked in.

"How can the people find peace?"