Chapter 308: Establishing the System (VII)

Huang the Provincial Graduate only reached Dayuan on the third evening before the grand ceremony. Thanks to the now-developed cross-strait flights, Master Huang, who had taken leave from Xiong Da and gone traveling under the banner of "visiting friends," sailed directly from Fuzhou to the passenger pier at Chikan in half the usual time.

After disembarking at the passenger pier, the escorts the Intelligence Bureau had assigned him went their own way, while Master Huang himself, accompanied by several Intelligence Bureau agents in gray linen shirts, boarded a shuttle boat directly for the opposite shore of the Taijiang.

Dayuan Island had by this time been completely sealed off; all non-essential activity was canceled, and only the Transmigrators could come and go freely.

After coming ashore, Huang Zhicheng went at the first moment to Liwei — the Intelligence Bureau office tucked in a corner of the Imperial City's second floor.

There he met his long-separated companions from the "Confucianism, Buddhism, Taoism" trio: Xiong Dao and Lu Cheng. Although these two had set out from Hangzhou, they came and went freely, so they had arrived several days earlier than Huang Zhicheng... Even the fake Cao Chuan, sitting off to the side smoking, had arrived earlier than him. In fact, Huang Zhicheng was the very last Transmigrator to take his place for this grand ceremony.

After exchanging a few pleasantries and jokes with his colleagues, Huang Zhicheng went to the adjacent office to give a brief report to Bureau Chief Dai Yun, then hurried upstairs to Jianyuan Hall to pay his respects to the Cao Emperor.

In the brilliantly lit hall, the Cao Emperor, dressed in a casual Western suit with gleaming leather shoes, sat cross-legged on the Dragon Throne chatting with a group of big shots. Seeing Huang Zhicheng enter, Cao Chuan let out a hearty laugh: "Look, look, the Provincial Graduate himself has arrived. By the way, didn't you bring that pretty wife of yours? Wouldn't you like her granted the title of Honored Lady?"

Then, amid a chorus of warm teasing and laughter, Huang Zhicheng strode quickly forward, extended both hands, and clasped Cao Chuan's tightly several times — this was the last time the two sides would meet as equals. In a few more days, even a handshake would carry the distinction of superior and subordinate; the flavor would be different.

The brief meeting was soon over. This was Huang Zhicheng's pre-ceremony check-in, and Cao Chuan needed no reports, so after a few jokes and a couple of idle remarks, the seasoned Huang the Provincial Graduate took his timely leave — carrying his gift pack with him.

Huang Zhicheng was the last to check in, and also the last to receive a gift pack. After returning to his private residence in the Villa District, he bathed, and without bothering to tour this long-vacant new home, directly opened this gift pack imported from later generations.

The gift pack was a sealed aluminum alloy carrying case.

This carrying case had been specially designed; every four cases could be assembled into one large storage crate. In fact, the medical, chemical, as well as weapons and intelligence departments had long had their eyes on this batch of cases.

That is to say, after the onlookers had eaten the melon flesh, the rinds would be recycled afterward...

Inside the case were some clothes and matching accessories: a men's watch, belt, ring, necklace, leather shoes, cufflinks, and so on.

Huang Zhicheng turned over the clothes and looked them over, discovering it was a full suit, undergarments included, plus a windbreaker, and it looked quite well-fitted. This did not surprise him: everyone's clothing sizes had been submitted months ago; he had arrived late and could not choose the style or color, but the size should be fine.

The light blue, thin, lapelled Gucci suit was of excellent quality. "Probably this year's new model." At this thought, Huang the Provincial Graduate could not help shaking his head... The longer he was away from that world, the more acutely he felt the estrangement; the longing, on the contrary, had slowly faded.

After changing into the suit from the inside out, Huang Zhicheng stood before a Flower Pear Wood half-length mirror and examined his reflection: not bad, the down-and-out fake-painting peddler of those years had returned to the mirror, except back then he could never have afforded such an expensive suit.

However, when he put on the thin windbreaker designated as "court attire," the style changed instantly.

Probably because "vermilion and purple" are traditional noble colors, this windbreaker happened to be a light purple. The quality was good, but it was clearly rushed out by domestic manufacturers: it had no brand. The waist, ribs, cuffs, and left chest of the windbreaker bore beautiful silver embroidered patterns; the overall cut looked somewhat retro, and when worn, it carried a faint hint of Hanfu.

No need to guess — this "court attire" must have been designed by the Imperial Han faction. Forcibly altering a Western-style windbreaker into a retro style was something only this awkward nation, a jumble of various schools of thought, could produce.

Examining the silver embroidery on the fabric closely, Huang the Provincial Graduate was not surprised: sure enough, it was still that pair of coiling dragons, only the pattern had been downgraded to the viscount-level coiling serpent. "Isn't this just a simplified python robe? These people... hopeless." Huang Zhicheng shook his head and sneered as he tried on the clothes. "Seems I absolutely cannot take this outfit to Fujian. If anyone saw it, my whole family would be executed!"

November 11, 1628 (Crossing Over New Calendar year 1849). Auspicious for opening a business, breaking ground, accepting betrothal gifts, traveling, assuming office, and enthronement.

The weather today was clear and fine, cloudless for ten thousand li, the sea waves still.

At the moment the eastern sky showed the white belly of a fish, the shuttle boats on the Taijiang began their busy crisscrossing. Around two hundred people dressed in light purple windbreakers boarded the boats from the Villa District's private pier and were ferried successively to Dayuan Island.

The Taijiang at this moment was quiet; on the sea surface, only those streamlined boats with white sails shuttled back and forth. The usual bustling, noisy scene of boats rubbing shoulders had vanished — today was a special day, and the Taijiang was under martial law.

All subjects under the Empire's rule, except for a portion on duty, were given a unified day off. The workers, already accustomed to receiving instructions and collective living, received the order today: tidy internal affairs in the morning, free activities in the afternoon.

It was rare to encounter an extra paid holiday, so in the patches of Stilt House Districts in Chikan New District, most people, utterly unaware of what was happening, were still blissfully catching up on sleep. And while they snored away, in that row of Barbarian Merchant Houses across the Taijiang, no one had been able to sleep for a long time.

"Whoa, look what's coming out of the castle — knights, and that golden carriage!"

In the Dutch Trading Post closest to Dayuan Island's port, all the employees at this moment were crowded behind the creamy-white floor-to-ceiling lattice windows, eyes wide open as they gazed at the rarely seen spectacle in the distance.

And the one who had uttered this exclamation was none other than the Transmigrators' old friend, former captive, the Dutch Commercial Agent, Comrade Johannes van der Hagen.

Van der Hagen had only returned to Dayuan not long ago. This old friend had come to assist Consul Mao Zhe'er in further expanding the United Provinces' trade framework here.

He was standing on a low stool at this moment, holding a brass telescope and constantly observing. Through the round lens, past the transparent glass window and the merchant house's low wall already overgrown with green vines, what now entered Van der Hagen's eyes was that golden Rolls-Royce Phantom slowly driving this way.

... Time rewound to not long before.

Early this morning, it was not only the Transmigrators bustling about; a group of long-restless foreigners had not been idle either. When they discovered the road in front of the merchant houses was sealed off by a large number of slogan-shouting soldiers, they knew something was going to happen today.

Sure enough, once it grew a bit brighter, the foreigners noticed the anomaly at the first moment.

First were the soldiers. On the concrete road surface before the gate, at intervals, now stood soldiers with rifles propped in their right hands. Unlike previous days, these soldiers, with whom the foreigners were already quite familiar, had changed their attire today.

Not only did they wear a strange-looking hat with a shiny iron plate on the front, they also wore stiff olive-green military uniforms with several thin yellow cords across the chest; some even had shiny iron and copper plates on their chests.

Besides the strange soldiers, the shuttle boats arriving successively on the Taijiang also quickly drew the attention of those watching from afar: a large number of Transmigrators in purple windbreakers were disembarking onto the pier.

"Is that the traditional attire of Ming Dynasty Nobility?" In the Dutch Trading Post nearest the Pier District, Consul Mao Zhe'er, also holding a telescope, his face full of red whiskers, looking more like a pirate than a merchant, opened his mouth to ask.

"No, perhaps it is merely the traditional attire of their Sealed Kingdom." Van der Hagen, who knew more about the Transmigrators, gave the accurate answer at this moment. "It seems something is definitely going to happen today... I've never seen them dressed so uniformly."

"Today's ceremony... could it be to welcome some Ming official?" Mao Zhe'er asked after a moment of deliberation.

"Perhaps... to welcome some exiled prince." At this, Van der Hagen's lips curled slightly upward. "Sir, as you know, their relationship with the Ming Emperor is not harmonious. They have their own king."

"Would that be His Excellency Cao Chuan, who went to Fujian as a hostage?"

"Perhaps, who knows? No one has ever seen that mysterious leader." Van der Hagen did not realize he had inadvertently touched upon the crux of the matter.

The next moment, his imagination ran wild again: "Maybe we are overthinking this. Today is just a routine... religious activity related to native gods... something akin to a Mass?"

Mao Zhe'er's large whiskers quivered. "May God forgive these heretics..." At this, he lowered his head and instructed some nameless subordinate: "Go prepare a gift of the highest order. Perhaps I shall have use for it at tonight's banquet."

Just as Mao Zhe'er was taking precautions, Van der Hagen cried out again: "Whoa, look what's coming out of the castle — knights, and that golden carriage!"

Recently, someone had been test-driving that Rolls-Royce Phantom around the Imperial City from time to time. Although the merchants from various countries had grown accustomed to the magical express vehicles running across this land, this "golden carriage," which looked noble at a glance, still drew everyone's attention.

Today's scene was especially grand: four beautiful, pure-white Arabian horses, used for breeding, were dressed up splendidly to serve as the vanguard. Several Transmigrators who aspired to lead cavalry regiments across the northern lands in the future, now wearing general's uniforms with cavalry knives at their waists, sat proudly on horseback, urging their mounts into short steps, displaying the riding skills they had painstakingly practiced for over a month.

Leading motorcycles... behind the leading horse team were two squads of Army soldiers shouldering redwood rifles. These soldiers, wearing shiny short boots, trotted neatly on both sides of the sedan, the entire procession slowly moving toward the pier.

Before long, under the watchful eyes of the various merchant house personnel, the golden sedan procession followed the main road down the center of Dayuan Island and arrived before the Harbor Affairs Building beside the pier.