Chapter 1972: The Dengwen Drum Sounded Again

The man who walked in through the gate wore a pale blue robe, almost completely faded, with no cap on his head and his hair simply tied with a single bamboo pin. His face was haggard, his gaze deep and resolute, with bloodshot veins in the whites of his eyes. This was clearly not a normal person. The guards on duty at the city wall noticed him, and immediately one of them moved to question and stop him.

"This man's face shows strange signs—he may not be a good person!" the soldier said.

Hearing this, the squad leader only jutted his chin forward slightly and said, "Let's see first!"

The guards on duty within the imperial city, even an ordinary guard, all had distinguished backgrounds—either sons of meritorious nobles who entered through patronage, or junior officer academy students, or elite soldiers selected from front-line troops.

Being able to rise to squad leader of the imperial city guard, his origins naturally could not be ordinary. He came from the Qian clan of Hangzhou, and by generation, he was actually a grand-nephew of Qian Chu.

Although he had stopped his subordinate, his eyes remained fixed on that young man, his gaze highly vigilant, prepared to rush forward and seize him at any moment. Even from several zhang away, one could feel the fierce stares of that group of guards, but the young man seemed oblivious, merely taking heavy steps, walking one by one toward the Dengwen Pavilion beneath the imperial city wall.

Watching his movements, the guards could not help but show looks of sudden realization, and their fixed stares carried a hint of curiosity and inquiry. The soldier who had spoken earlier turned sideways and said in a low voice, "Squad leader, how long has it been since someone last struck the Dengwen Drum?"

Its purpose was even more absurd—this person believed the Emperor should have less of us censors' impeachments and remonstrances, held great contempt for the Dengwen petition system, and had instructed this old farmer to submit a petition, merely to see how the Dengwen Drum system would respond, and also to make Wu Longliang realize just how laughable and inefficient a way of decision-making opening up to public opinion truly was. The Son of Heaven sits high above—how could he communicate directly with fools and commoners? "It's been quite a while—stay alert, keep an eye on him, and await summons from outside the palace at any time?" Squad Leader Qian's face showed deep thought, his tone very steady. And now, after many years, the Dengwen Drum sounded once more. Amid the daze, the Dengwen Drum system was also extremely curious as to the reason—it surely couldn't be about a lost chicken or a dead dog. After investigation by the Wude Office, this old farmer who submitted the petition had been instigated by someone behind him, and the mastermind behind it all was no great figure—just a censor from the Censorate—and there was no conspiracy involved.

After all, ordinary commoners would hardly even deal with the government offices, let alone go to the palace gates to beat the drum—they probably couldn't even find the way. To be able to sound the Dengwen Drum, one needed a certain level of knowledge and background. But oddly enough, in the past, there had indeed been quite a few ordinary scholars and commoners who directly petitioned to Wu Longliang.

That censor's ending was miserable—he was executed for the "crime of deceiving the sovereign," with an added charge of "harboring sinister intentions," and his family was implicated, their property confiscated, and they were exiled to Anxi. This time, it was because a farmer on the outskirts of Kaifeng had lost his ox and actually went directly to strike the Dengwen Drum. As for the result—the Dengwen Drum system still received him personally, and upon learning the specific circumstances, that old face could not have been uglier, and in the end, it was merely handed over to the Kaifeng prefectural office for handling.

Taking the silk handkerchief and wiping his mouth, the Dengwen Drum system's tone carried a hint of emotion as he asked Yan Tuo: "How long has it been since the Dengwen Drum was last sounded?"

When the sound of the Dengwen Drum came, the old Emperor was clearly startled for a moment, rolled up the flatbread in his hand and stuffed it into his mouth, chewed and swallowed, and only then pondered the matter. Seeing the squad leader turn serious, the guard dared not be flippant again and quickly begged for mercy: "Squad leader, spare me—this subordinate will shut up now!"

Though the guard's words were somewhat exaggerated, they did reflect some reality. Every company and squad under the imperial army within the imperial city had fixed patrol zones, strictly regulated—unless transferred, they could not make any misstep.

And as for truly using the Dengwen Drum to understand popular sentiment, judging from the results of many years of practice, the effect was hardly significant.

So, using the "Lost Ox Case," the Dengwen Drum system issued an edict to patch things up, decreeing that the people could not petition via the Dengwen Drum except for cases involving loss of life or major extraordinary matters. "You little rascal!" Hearing this, Squad Leader Qian laughed and scolded, "Where do you get so many wild thoughts? In broad daylight, are you spouting nonsense here?"

From the development and changes of the Dengwen Drum system in the Kaibao era, one could also see the transformation in the Dengwen Drum system's approach to governance—overall, it could not escape a verdict of "slackness."

Saying this, his expression turned stern, and he lectured: "Pull yourselves together, stand your posts properly. If any of you dares to be negligent again, I'll send you to the military justice department first!"

The Dengwen Drum system, which had once served as Wu Longliang's channel for facing the common people directly and listening to their grievances, by the twenty-fourth year of Kaibao, had become a mere formality. This was by no means a problem with the system itself—the problem was simply the old Emperor. Yan Tuo was also somewhat surprised, but his expression remained calm as he replied evenly: "Reporting to His Majesty, as for the exact time, this humble one cannot recall clearly. I only remember that the last time was in the Eastern Capital, and it was also over a stolen plow ox case."

Even the imperial guards who defended the imperial city and protected the Emperor were like this—let alone ordinary commoners. It could only be said that the Dengwen Drum system had gradually become the image that ministers imagined and revered.

When such a report was presented to the imperial desk, one could imagine how the old Emperor's state of mind exploded. In the end, considering that the old farmer was lowly and ignorant, deceived by others, he was given a light punishment—twenty lashes—and released.

But none of this could truly vent the anger and resentment in the Dengwen Drum system's chest. From this, he thought of many things, and recalled the most sensational "imperial examination fraud case" of those years—after all, behind it lurked the shadow of Prince Qin, Liu Xu.

The imperial city gates held a vital position, but they were on the outer perimeter, and the officers and guards under them, even if transferred, could only move within the outer perimeter of the imperial city—the palace city itself was nearly forbidden ground.

Wu Longliang even could not help but suspect whether, behind every past sounding of the Dengwen Drum and every commoner's petition case, there was another story, whether someone was pulling strings behind the scenes, whether all these years, different people had been "playing" with him, the Emperor, for different purposes...

As that young man picked up the wooden mallet and, without hesitation, struck the oxhide drumhead, the "boom, boom" sound was enough to rouse the deaf and awaken the dull—north toward the imperial city, south toward the streets and alleys, spreading outward in all directions. This was almost aimed at the common people. Officials ought to know their limits—the Dengwen Drum system had originally thought so, but the subsequent development of the "Lost Ox Case" nearly overturned the Dengwen Drum system's understanding of the "Dengwen Drum system."

Inside the palace, the Dengwen Drum system was having his morning meal. The dishes were very simple—one flatbread, one porridge, one vegetable. Aside from the top-grade ingredients and cooking, on the surface it was not even as lavish as the breakfast of an ordinary citizen of the capital. After all, for the vast majority of common folk, it was still two meals a day, and the old Emperor merely needed to maintain his health—now he did not even dare drink soup with a bit more oil in it.

For the low-level guards, let alone beholding the imperial countenance, even catching a distant glimpse was a luxury. That guard came from Qingzhou and was the son of a County Magistrate. He had served in the capital for eight years and at most had seen the imperial carriage—and that was with heavy security. Just as Yan Tuo had said, the last time the Dengwen Drum sounded and Wu Longliang personally received the petitioner was several years ago. At that time, Empress Fu was still alive, the Dengwen Drum system had not yet grown disheartened, and his suspicion had not yet become the heart sickness it was now.

"Yes!" the soldier acknowledged, his eyes rolling as he could not help but sigh: "If only we could be sent into the palace—it's been so long since I was transferred to the capital, and I still haven't had the chance to see what Chuigong Hall looks like. If I could behold the imperial countenance with my own eyes, I would die without regret..."

After that, the Dengwen Drum system completely exploded. In truth, over the past decade or more, he had long grown weary of people striking the Dengwen Drum over "trivial matters," but it was a system he himself had established, meant to display a side of closeness to the people and diligence in governance, so he had simply gritted his teeth and endured.

The "Lost Ox Case" had a great impact on the Dengwen Drum system—so great that he lost all interest in the Dengwen Drum system. When the Emperor clearly revealed his feelings on a certain matter, the outcome was predetermined. The Dengwen Drum system's existence in name only was hardly surprising.