Chapter 130: Those Who Break Chapters Shall Die a Dog's Death (Begging for Monthly Tickets!)

Before long, Lu Xiangsheng reached the vicinity of Zhengyang Gate.

Within the capital, there were the Lantern Market, the Inner Market, the Poor Man's Market, the City God Temple Market, and many other bazaars, but only this Zhengyang Gate Great Market opened every single day, rain or shine.

"Scholars, farmers, artisans, and merchants from all under Heaven, each bearing their travel permits, gather here like clouds, shoulder rubbing hub striking, a clamor that lasts all day."

The scene before his eyes was the most vivid illustration of those words.

Shops selling jewelry and ornaments, shops selling examination essays, shops selling brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones, shops selling silks and satins... a dazzling array of every kind of store.

Even more numerous were the street stalls — selling snacks, selling nibbles, fortune-telling and physiognomy, cricket-fighting, monkey tricks and busking... hawking cries, peddling shouts, haggling voices rose and fell in waves, merging into one vivid, earthy song of the bustling world.

After passing the metropolitan examination, Lu Xiangsheng had served as an official in the Ministry of Revenue for over a year, and he could be said to be thoroughly familiar with this Zhengyang Gate Avenue.

He did not let the lively scene distract him; his purpose was clear as he cut straight through the crowd and arrived before a shop named "Zhang Family Bookstore."

The bookstore's manager was a middle-aged man in his forties, sitting behind the counter, sipping tea while watching the passersby outside the door.

Seeing Lu Xiangsheng, he first started, then immediately rose to his feet, his face piling up with the warm, enthusiastic smile unique to a man of business.

"Aiya! Isn't this worthy brother Jiandou? What wind has blown you back here?"

Lu Xiangsheng had been away from the capital for five years and had assumed the other man might not even remember him; he had not expected the manager's memory to be this good.

He smiled and cupped his hands in salute: "Brother Wenshan, after so many years apart, have you been well?"

This Manager Zhang, though a merchant, was a thorough man of culture and most enjoyed befriending scholars.

Back when Lu Xiangsheng was still a juren who had come to the capital for the examinations, he had often met him at literary gatherings and garden parties, and so he never addressed him as "Manager," but called him by his courtesy name instead.

Zhang Wenshan let out a hearty laugh, looked Lu Xiangsheng up and down, and clicked his tongue in admiration: "Well, well, well — I have been well, quite well! Worthy brother, these years away have made you ever more steady and composed. So, returning to the capital so suddenly — could it be that you are about to be promoted?"

As he spoke, he ushered Lu Xiangsheng into the shop.

"Brother Wenshan jests. It is merely a return to the capital to report on my duties," Lu Xiangsheng replied flatly.

At these words, a flicker of understanding passed through Zhang Wenshan's eyes.

Every back issue of the Capital Gazette he sold here, he had read copy by copy; he was thoroughly versed in the transfers of officials across every region.

Lu Xiangsheng had only been transferred from the Linqing Granary to the post of Prefect of Daming Prefecture at the start of the year — a mere few months ago. How could it already be time for him to return to the capital to report on his duties?

This worthy brother Jiandou, who had prepared for the exams, passed with honors, and entered officialdom right under his very nose, had now also learned to speak in polite evasions.

Still, it was good that he could tell a lie. Only by learning to lie could one walk further along the path of officialdom.

Thoughts racing through his mind, Zhang Wenshan let nothing show on his face. Smiling, he changed the subject: "The moment you enter the capital, worthy brother, you come straight to my shop — could it be that you wish to buy a copy of the Great Ming Times?"

"Precisely." Lu Xiangsheng nodded, his gaze sweeping over the bookshelves. "From the look of it, they are already sold out?"

"Sold out is an understatement!" Zhang Wenshan slapped his thigh, his face brimming with excitement.

"Worthy brother, you have no idea. For this official edition's first printing, two thousand copies were sent to the various counties in the provinces, and a mere five hundred copies were kept for sale in the capital. As a result, in less than half a shichen, they were snatched up and gone!"

"These past two days, a thousand more were printed, and they vanished the moment they were set out! As for those hand-copied versions, they were long ago reserved and taken away by the households of various ennobled nobles, civil officials, and provincial governors who sent men to place orders. On these few streets of ours, the copyists' wrists are about to snap from writing!"

Listening to this, Lu Xiangsheng showed no anxiety, merely watching him with a faint smile.

In years past, he had been fooled more than a few times by Zhang Wenshan's "first suppress, then elevate" routine; his fellow officials from the same examination cohort had given him a bluntly descriptive nickname: "Zhang But-However."

Sure enough, Zhang Wenshan shifted his tone, his voice lifting slightly as he mysteriously fished out from under the counter a neatly folded, perfectly preserved newspaper.

"However... when Brother Lu comes looking for me, he has come to exactly the right person!"

He slapped the newspaper onto the counter and declared smugly: "How could my place be without stock? This is the very first issue, from the tenth day of the ninth month! On the market today, there is a price but no supply — whoever has one is hiding it away, no one is willing to sell! It is the most precious of all!"

Lu Xiangsheng squeezed the money pouch in his sleeve and asked, "How much?"

Zhang Wenshan laughed heartily and waved a hand: "Not expensive! The original price is five wen; I am only adding five wen, selling it to you, old brother, for ten wen — just to share in the auspicious joy!"

In the end, Lu Xiangsheng paid ten wen, but walked away with a large bundle of newspapers.

Besides that precious inaugural issue of the Great Ming Times, Zhang Wenshan had also thrown in a dozen or so old Capital Gazettes, claiming they were unsold from earlier days, and had forced them upon him.

Watching Lu Xiangsheng's receding figure as he led his horse away, Zhang Wenshan stood in the doorway and stroked his beard with satisfaction.

The young shop assistant beside him leaned in curiously: "Manager, why are you so generous today? Wasn't there someone the day before yesterday who offered a full tael of silver for this first edition of the Great Ming Times, and you still wouldn't sell it?"

At these words, Zhang Wenshan cast a smug glance at the assistant: "What do you know..."

But halfway through his sentence, he abruptly shut his mouth, glared, and resumed the full authority of a manager: "Do you have that much free time? Hurry up and bring the books out of the storehouse — while the sun is still good, get them aired out! If they get moldy, I'll dock your wages!"

The assistant shrank back from the scolding, not daring to ask another question, and scurried off to the rear courtyard.

Only then did Zhang Wenshan settle back into his grand armchair, brew himself a fresh cup of tea, and gaze at the passersby streaming along the street outside, the smile at the corner of his lips no longer concealable.

In his heart, he mused secretly:

A seventeen-year-old Emperor, a twenty-seven-year-old minister.

Is this not precisely the meeting of golden wind and jade dew, surpassing countless encounters of the mortal world?

This manager of yours, this time perhaps... is truly going to make it big!

Lu Xiangsheng stabled his horse at the Chengshou Temple in the eastern quarter, then donated two wen to soak in a hot bath in the bathhouse, and finally changed into a clean Confucian scholar's robe, immediately feeling the weariness of days of travel slightly eased.

Seeing that the sky had already reached the shen hour, his stomach was empty with hunger. He decided not to eat the temple's vegetarian meal, but went straight out and found a restaurant on a street corner that looked quite bustling, choosing a seat in the middle and sitting down.

"Proprietor, slice two jin of mutton, a dish of fennel beans, another stir-fried seasonal vegetable, and warm up a sheng of Autumn Dew White."

"Right away! Esteemed guest, please wait a moment!"

Having ordered his food and wine, Lu Xiangsheng's gaze drifted unobtrusively toward the various tables around the room.

In the marketplace, speech is unguarded and truth is most easily seen — it is truly the best way to gauge the mood and drift of the common people.

Before the food and wine had even arrived, the conversation from a neighboring table drifted faintly over.

"Have you heard? The young lord of the Duke of Ying's household has recently been searching everywhere for midwives," a lowered voice said mysteriously.

"What does he need midwives for?" another asked curiously. "Could it be that the young lord is about to... prepare for a birth?"

"Not at all — the young lord's eldest son is already three years old this year!" The man spat. "I heard from Granny Liu, who came back from the eastern quarter, that it was eunuchs from the palace doing the questioning. They asked about every single delivery they had handled over the years, down to the last detail, and even registered them all in a ledger!"

"Oh—" The others suddenly understood, and someone immediately chimed in: "I see it now! The late Emperor's heirs were plagued with misfortune; this must be the Duke of Ying, with profound foresight, making preparations in advance for His Majesty's important affairs!"

"Exactly the reasoning! The Duke of Ying is indeed a seasoned hand at planning for the state!"

Lu Xiangsheng listened, nodding to himself in silent approval.

His Majesty's progeny is a matter of national importance. Though the Duke of Ying's gesture was somewhat fawning, it was indeed a prudent act born of experience — there is little to censure.

As he was mulling this over, idle chatter from another table caught his attention.

"Let me tell you fellows something fresh! That commander of the Southern City Troops and Horses Office, the one called Zhou Kui — didn't he go and fence off the land belonging to Wei Zhongxian's nephew a few days ago?"

"That happened? The one called Wei Liangqing, right? That hundred-qing grant His Majesty left them?"

"The very same! And guess what happened? His Majesty's decree came down that very day — not only did it make him return the land, it fined him a thousand taels of silver, to be used for repairing the roads of the capital!"

"Heavens above! That money-grubbing Commander Zhou — could he bear to part with that much coin?"

"He couldn't bear it? As if it were up to him!" The man spoke with animated relish. "Tian Ergeng, Guard Commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, came to his door in person. Zhou Kui tried to plead poverty, but Commander Tian paid him no mind — sent his men straight inside to search, seized a full thousand taels on the spot, and turned it over directly! His Majesty also declared: next time he offends, the fine will be two thousand taels!"

"Hahaha! Satisfying! Truly satisfying!"

"That being the case, I suppose that Princess Consort Zhou won't be becoming Empress after all?" someone murmured speculatively.

"You don't understand." Someone nearby immediately retorted. "The matter of the Empress's investiture has already been published in the Capital Gazette and proclaimed to all under Heaven. It is a great state ceremony — how could it be shaken by a trifle like this?"

"In my view, His Majesty is beating the grass to startle the snake — a warning to Zhou Kui, and at the same time a message to everyone that even imperial relatives by marriage cannot do as they please!"

Just as the crowd buzzed with discussion, a resonant voice suddenly rang out.

"Silence! How dare you discuss the affairs of the imperial household so recklessly here — do you wish to sample the fare inside the Imperial Prison?"

Lu Xiangsheng followed the voice and looked over. At the neighboring table, a young man of towering build and heroic bearing had abruptly risen to his feet, his eyes wide with fury, glaring at the group who had just been speaking.

Those men, terrified out of their wits by his angry shout and instantly sobered, scrambled to their feet, bowing and apologizing profusely. Not even sparing a thought for the food left on their table, they hastily settled their bill and slunk out of the tavern in disgrace.

A hush fell over the tavern for a moment.

Lu Xiangsheng's gaze met the young man's across the room.

A true stout-hearted fellow, no doubt about it.

He smiled faintly and raised his cup toward the other man in salute.

The young man, perceiving Lu Xiangsheng's goodwill, let the anger on his face ease a little. He returned the gesture with a cupped-hand salute, then sat back down, though his expression remained grim.

Before long, the tavern's clamor resumed.

Lu Xiangsheng's wine and dishes arrived.

He took a sip of the warmed Autumn Deer White. A fiery warmth slid down his throat and into his belly, lifting his spirits and thoroughly dispelling the exhaustion of days of travel.

As he ate in small mouthfuls, he continued to listen to the voices around him — matters of the Capital Camps, the Valiant Guard Camp, the commercial taxes at Chongwen Gate… great affairs and petty incidents alike, truth and falsehood intermingled, like a vast net enveloping the entire capital.

Having eaten and drunk his fill, he let out a long, contented breath. Only then did he carefully draw from his sleeve the neatly folded copy of the Great Ming Times.

The craftsmanship of the engraving masters at the Directorate of Ceremonial's scriptorium was top-tier: the characters were crisp and clear, and the paper was fine bamboo paper, warm and smooth to the touch.

Judging by the cost of production alone, it surely exceeded five cash coins. This newspaper was being sold at almost no profit.

At the very top were the four large characters "Great Ming Times," and beneath them the notation: "Tianqi, seventh year, ninth month, tenth day — Issue One."

Lu Xiangsheng's gaze traveled downward.

First column: Sacred Edicts Made Manifest.

The lead item concerned the case of Wang Chengqi, magistrate of Zhenyang County in Runing Prefecture, Henan — a man who neglected governance and abused the people.

Only now did Lu Xiangsheng understand why that young Embroidered Uniform Guard by the Lugou Bridge had spoken of "sooner or later, utter ruin" — so this was what he had meant.

Wang Chengqi… a name that should have remained utterly obscure would now, with this inaugural issue of the Great Ming Times, indeed be immortalized in history.

The brush as a blade — killing without leaving a trace!

In a single instant, Lu Xiangsheng grasped the terrifying power of this newspaper.

The will of the Son of Heaven, transformed into an invisible net cast over all under Heaven — this was might more formidable even than the terror of thunder!

For now, it was aimed only at a single corrupt official, and the people of the realm would only applaud.

But what if, in the future, the Emperor's brush turned toward a weighty minister of the court?

Would that not mean that if the Emperor wished to declare a man virtuous, he would be deemed virtuous; if he wished to declare him a villain, he would be deemed a villain?

No… it would not go that far.

Local sentiment still carried weight; it would not descend to such utter distortion of truth. For the present, it seemed the good would still outweigh the bad.

Lu Xiangsheng furrowed his brow but restrained his impatience and read on.

The second item concerned the Zhou Kui affair, which he had just heard discussed in the tavern — no longer news.

Only, at the very end of the piece, it actually commended Wei Zhongxian's nephew Wei Liangqing, praising him for yielding the land willingly and contentedly returning to farming as a truly decorous act — which made it even harder to discern the new sovereign's methods.

Second column: Current Affairs.

This section was quite similar to the old Capital Gazette, listing recent important memorials and official appointments and dismissals — though content regarding military affairs on the Nine Frontiers was conspicuously sparse.

Lu Xiangsheng's eyes swept rapidly over it, until he reached the title of the third column — Why Did Confucius Uphold Benevolence?

Lu Xiangsheng's breath caught. He slowed his pace.

"Excellent!"

He had not even read halfway through before he could no longer contain himself — he slapped his thigh and let out a low cry of approval!

What a fine phrase — "the question of the age"! What a fine question — "what, then, is the question of the Great Ming today"!

This essay, using Confucius, classical and modern scriptural scholarship, the Cheng-Zhu school, and Wang Yangming as its framework, peeled back layer after layer with a clear and forceful thesis — it was nothing less than the opening of a new current in historical studies!

What was even more intriguing was that it discussed the classics without debating the classics, and discussed history without stopping at history.

Any discerning reader would see at a glance that this was unmistakably a political manifesto — and a most conspicuous one at that!

A new policy!

The new sovereign intended to launch a new policy — and yet he was actually using Confucius, Mencius, the Cheng brothers, and Zhu Xi as his raft! The audacity was staggering!

Lu Xiangsheng felt his blood surge hot through his veins. He reached instinctively for his wine cup, only to find it long empty.

He abruptly raised his head and called out loudly: "Innkeeper! Warm another — no! Bring two more pints of wine! Your finest Nu'er Hong!"

Having shouted this, he set the paper aside and closed his eyes, his chest heaving with surging emotion that would not subside for a long while.

When the innkeeper delivered a fresh jar of wine, he did not even glance at it. He lifted the jar directly and poured himself a brimming bowl.

"Now that's satisfying! This calls for a toast!"

A bowl of strong liquor went down, and he felt his heroic spirit surge, the pent-up gloom in his chest swept clean away.

He read on.

The Duke of Ying and others donate a total of five hundred thousand taels of silver for road repairs

…To the left of the headline was a densely packed list of names.

He skimmed it briefly, and cross-referencing it with the official appointments and dismissals in past issues of the Capital Gazette, he already had a vague sense that the list and the sums contributed by each person did not quite add up.

But at this moment, none of that mattered anymore.

If the new sovereign possesses such grand ambition, then I, Lu Xiangsheng — why should I shrink back in timidity!

Horse fodder?! No, he would submit a far grander plan!

It only remained to be seen whether the new sovereign truly had the nerve for it!

Lu Xiangsheng then hurriedly read through the remaining three sections: the capital's New Governance Phase One, the simultaneous commencement of three lines of the Thousand-Li Lightning Signal Tower, and Marketplace Miscellany.

His gaze finally fell upon the last page of the newspaper.

A Loyal Record of the Liao Sea

It appeared to be a story, and the whole thing was written in plain vernacular.

He normally had no interest in such marketplace fare, but as his eyes swept over the first line, he could not help but freeze.

The format of that first sentence was exceedingly strange, yet it carried an ineffable, inexplicable air of fate.

Lu Xiangsheng could not resist murmuring it aloud:

"Many years later, as he hacked off the head of a Tartar, Wang Sancai would always remember that distant afternoon when his father took him to see the market in Shenyang…"

Unnoticed, the sky outside the window had gone completely dark. The innkeeper lit the lanterns, and dim yellow candlelight spilled across the wine shop.

But Lu Xiangsheng remained utterly oblivious to the changes around him. His entire mind was immersed in that youth called Wang Sancai, journeying with him through the bustle of Shenyang, through the great fire and slaughter when the city fell, through the scattering and flight of his family…

After a long while, he turned the newspaper to the end.

That was it?

In disbelief, he flipped the newspaper back again.

It really… was over?

Wang Sancai was hiding in a pile of corpses — and then what?

Did those barbarian riders discover him? What became of the wound on his leg? And his father, who was separated from him — was he ever found?

A chain of questions exploded in his mind, and even with Lu Xiangsheng's ordinarily steady temperament, he could not help grinding his teeth at this moment.

"Damn it all!"

"Damn it all!"

Two identical curses burst out almost at the exact same instant.

Lu Xiangsheng started violently, only then realizing something was off. He turned his head — and met a pair of eyes just as full of stifled frustration and irritation.

The young man who had spoken out so righteously in the wine shop earlier had, at some unknown moment, come to stand beside his table. He had craned his neck and, together with Lu Xiangsheng, silently read through that entire page of the newspaper.

When the young man saw him look over, he instantly snapped back to his senses and realized his own rudeness. His handsome face flushed crimson in a flash. He hastily stepped back half a pace and bowed deeply.

"This… this brother, I… I have been most discourteous!"

Lu Xiangsheng collected himself, rose to his feet as well, and returned the bow with solemn propriety: "I am Lu Xiangsheng, a scholar who has come to the capital for the examinations. I only arrived in the city today."

Seeing that he did not press the matter, the young man's expression eased somewhat, and he returned the courtesy in earnest: "I am Li Ruolian, just returned from study travels in Huguang, preparing to sit the military examinations. Just now… seeing you so absorbed in your reading, brother, I could not restrain myself for a moment and committed this act of borrowing light through a hole in the wall. I am truly ashamed."

He gritted his teeth, as if having made a great resolution, and fished out a small piece of silver worth five mace from his sleeve. With a look of acute heartache, he proffered it: "This newspaper now has a market price of one tael, yet it is still hard to obtain a single copy. I am willing to pay five mace of silver to atone for the crime of reading it on the sly, and I hope you, brother… will forgive me."

Watching that expression of mingled embarrassment and heartache, Lu Xiangsheng burst out laughing and pushed his hand right back.

"Brother Li, you exaggerate! I came to the capital with no kin to turn to, and I was just lamenting that such fine writing could only be savored alone, with no one to share the feeling. That you could enjoy it together with me is a fortunate thing — what crime is there in that?"

He folded the newspaper carefully, tucked it gingerly back into his sleeve, and could not help shaking his head again with a long sigh.

"It is only that the way this story cuts off… is truly… maddening!"

Li Ruolian, hearing this, nodded with deep fellow-feeling, and much of the awkwardness on his face melted away.

Picking up the thread, he said eagerly:

"I only wonder who this author, Yi Jue Chai, really is. If one could find his address, perhaps one might even urge an update or two…"

At that same moment, before the ruins of Cheng'en Temple at Xuanwu Gate.

Lu Xiangsheng's page boy stood amid the rubble and broken walls, holding the reins of a horse, looking utterly lost.

His tearful calls echoed across the empty ruins.

"Master… where in the world are you…"

Lu Xiangsheng's route into the capital this time overlaps with the route depicted in the "Panorama of the Imperial Capital's Accumulated Splendors."

Both begin at Lugou Bridge and enter through Guangning Gate.

After entering the city, however, Lu Xiangsheng went by way of Xuanwu Gate, while the "Panorama of the Imperial Capital's Accumulated Splendors" goes by Zhengyang Gate, then passes all the way past the imperial palace and northward to Juyong Pass.

If you're interested, you can search for this painting — it is extraordinarily beautiful, 21.8 meters long, a Ming-dynasty version of "Along the River During the Qingming Festival." I am only including here the section showing the great market at Zhengyang Gate.

It is a pity that of the million souls in the entire capital, after round after round of famine and plague, in the end nine out of ten houses stood empty — who knows how many people were left.

When the Manchu Qing took over, this inner city became the domain of the Eight Banners.

Across the vast capital, as far as the eye could see, only queues filled the streets; not a trace of Han clothing remained.

I don't know how you see it, but as for me — I don't like it!

Attached: Zhengyang Gate Avenue in 1900.