Chapter 218: Yanjing Daily Life 1

On the 14th day of the tenth month of the Ji Chou year, the morning mist had not yet cleared, and a thin frost had settled in the courtyard of Gongde Lin. Li Yuxuan got up early and slowly paced the courtyard—something his doctor had advised, saying that now that he was older, he needed more activity.

At nine o'clock in the morning, Liu Guangzhi walked briskly over, his expression somewhat unusual: "Lord Jing, there is a guest. It is… him."

Li Yuxuan was startled. Although he knew he was now a Sect, his coming to Gongde Lin in person was still unexpected.

The meeting was arranged in his room. When he entered, he was wearing a plain gray cotton uniform, had no entourage, and only two guards stood outside the door.

"Teacher." He smiled as he entered, greeting in Mandarin with a Sanxiang accent.

"Please sit."

He sat at the bedside, scanning the room: "Are the conditions still acceptable?"

"Very good, much better than the front‑line soldiers." Li Yuxuan poured a cup of hot water—he had run out of tea leaves; the pu'er the few students had given him last time was finished.

"We held a meeting yesterday," he said, as if making small talk.

After listening for a while, Li Yuxuan nodded and said, "Yanjing is fine, centrally located, with a certain grandeur."

When the national flag came up, "Good." Li Yuxuan said sincerely, "Simple, striking, with deep meaning."

Those words were said cleverly.

He understood and smiled, "Teacher, you're still so eloquent."

The two talked for a long time, ranging from establishing Yanjing as the capital to governing the Sect, from economic recovery to foreign policy. He spoke straightforwardly, without beating around the bush, and his questions were very practical: how to stabilize prices? how to restore public order? how to deal with civil servants left over from the Old Regime?

Li Yuxuan answered every question, but kept his limits—he was now a War Criminal, so he had to watch his stance.

When noon arrived, he glanced at his watch: "Teacher, I have to go; there's another meeting this afternoon."

"You're busy." Li Yuxuan rose to see him off.

At the doorway, Li Yuxuan suddenly said, "I'd like to go out for a walk."

He stopped, turned around: "Out? Where to?"

"Just wander around Yanjing City," Li Yuxuan said, "I want to see how the outside looks again."

He thought for a moment. According to regulations, War Criminals in Gongde Lin cannot leave at will, and he had already gone out last time, but Li's situation was special, and it was only "a stroll"…

"In principle it's not allowed," he said, "but since the teacher wants to go for a stroll… it can be permitted. I'll have Director Liu arrange it and send two people with you. But not for long; you must return before five in the afternoon."

"Thank you." Li Yuxuan rarely showed a smile.

At one p. m., a Jeep took Li Yuxuan to near Qianmen Street. He was followed by two plain‑clothes guards, wearing ordinary cotton jackets, but with guns at their waists.

Yanjing was already cold in December, but the streets were bustling. Shops were open, pedestrians came and went, there were small‑shouldered street vendors, rickshaw pullers, and cadres in Lenin suits with short hair. Slogans were posted everywhere: "Restore Production, Build a New Huaxia."

Li Yuxuan walked slowly, looking at the familiar city. He had been to Yanjing many times—after the Northern Expedition, before the War of Resistance, and after Japan's surrender in 1945. But each time was rushed, either for meetings or inspections; he had never, like now, strolled around as an ordinary person.

At a street corner a vendor sold roasted sweet potatoes, the caramel scent from the charcoal drifting over. Li Yuxuan patted his pocket—he had no money. In Gongde Lin, money wasn't needed.

"Boss, want a sweet potato?" the old man selling sweet potatoes called out.

"No, thank you." Li Yuxuan waved his hand.

He kept walking forward. Passing a bookstore, the display window showed newly published "Selected Works of Mao Zedong," "Republic Declaration," and "On New Democracy." A few young people who looked like students were leafing through books inside.

"Move aside! Move aside!" someone shouted suddenly.

Li Yuxuan stepped aside, seeing several people pushing a handcart toward him, the cart piled with junk: broken tables and chairs, old signboards, and some brightly colored clothes. A crowd of onlookers trailed the cart.

"What's this for?" Li Yuxuan asked the guard beside him.

The guard whispered, "Stuff seized from the sealed brothels. On the 21st of last month, all the city's brothels were shut down; these were taken out."

Li Yuxuan recalled. On November 21, the Yanjing municipal government sealed 224 brothels overnight, liberating 1,268 prostitutes. The story had appeared in the newspapers, which he had read.

Just as he was thinking, someone called out, "Isn't that Officer Li? How have you been these days?"

The voice was high‑pitched, with a strong Beiping accent.

Li Yuxuan turned his head and saw a woman in her fifties, wearing a half‑worn cotton jacket, her hair neatly combed, but her complexion gaunt. She carried a cloth bag in her hand, as if she had just returned from the market.

"You are…?" Li Yuxuan didn't recognize her.

The woman stepped closer, eyeing him up and down: "Officer Li, you truly are a Noble Person who forgets many things. I am Wang Mama of Yixiang Yuan, under the hand of the Northern Overlord Liu."

Li Yuxuan heard a buzz in his mind. He remembered.

In the spring of 1946, he came to Beiping as a Military Committee representative for an inspection. The local stationed‑army commander held a banquet and invited the famous Beiping "Northern Overlord" Liu Xiangting to accompany him. Liu Xiangting was the head of the Green Gang, controlling the prostitution trade in Ba Da Hutong. After the banquet, Liu Xiangting wanted to give him "Filial Respect"; he made a joke: "This money isn't clean; if you really want to give it, just fold it into the military budget as soldiers' wages."

Among those flattering at the scene was this Wang Mama—the matron of Yixiang Yuan.

"Ah," Li Yuxuan replied awkwardly, "so it's… Wang Mama. It's been two or three years at a glance, hasn't it?"

"Exactly!" Wang Mama slapped her thigh, "We met in April 1946, that's three years and eight months! Officer Li, where are you stationed now?"

She didn't recognize that Li Yuxuan was now a War Criminal—he was wearing an ordinary blue cotton coat, without any military insignia, looking just like an ordinary old man.

"I… have retired," Li Yuxuan said vaguely.

"Retirement is good, retirement is leisurely," Wang Mama sighed, "unlike us, our rice bowls have been smashed."

She pointed at the cart that had just passed: "Did you see? Yixiang Yuan, the courtyard I've run for twenty years, was sealed by the government last month! They said it was… eradicating feudal remnants, liberating women. All my girls were sent to a re‑education institute, saying they would be reformed, learn skills, and become workers in the future."

Li Yuxuan didn't know what to say.

Wang Mama continued on her own: "What sin have I committed! I entered this line at eighteen, went from girl to matron, over thirty years. Liu has fled; I heard he went to Hong Kong. What are we, the people at the bottom, to do? The government says brothel owners are an exploiting class and must undergo labor re‑education. At my age, what re‑education is there for me…?"

She spoke, her eyes reddening: "Officer Li, you once said back then that our money wasn't clean. Yet we rely on it for our meals! Now we have no food, the government tells us to find our own way. What can I do? Apart from managing the girls, I know nothing else…"

The two guards watched Wang Mama warily, their hands quietly resting on their waists.