Chapter 62

In this year, on the Shangsi Festival, the ministers submitted a memorial, requesting the era name to be changed to Jianlong, and the regent was honored as the Grand Chancellor, while the position of Shangshu Ling was abolished, causing the whole country to look on with disapproval.

Since the founding of our dynasty six hundred years ago, the position of Shangshu Ling has mostly been vacant, with the left and right Shangshu Chens taking over its duties.

This is because the only Shangshu Ling at the founding of the state was concurrently held by Emperor Taizong, who also held the title of Prince of Qin, and thus the position was left vacant out of respect and to avoid using his name.

The people whispered that the regent's ambitions were known to all.

Then, the Roaring Case led to the involvement of over fifty officials, including censors, remonstrators, attendants, and scholars, who were executed by beheading or strangulation outside the Yintai Gate, and a stele was erected to commemorate the event. Because the instigator's surname was Dang, people often referred to him as Lord Dang, and thus the stele was also known as the Dang People's Stele.

Over seven hundred relatives, disciples, and followers were exiled to the Jizhen military colony, and even pardons did not exempt them.

...

After we settled down, Bo Fu disappeared, reportedly to gather new information. However, the direction he took was clearly towards the Muchou Lake, known for its gathering of courtesans and pleasure boats.

It was said that these places were the best for him to leverage his reputation as a "fierce bird." According to his own boasts, he had the credentials to be called a fierce bird, and thus he was always successful in brothels and music halls, even if his reputation was tarnished, he could always start anew elsewhere.

Since he had the integrity not to ask me for extra funds and instead took the five hundred coins he had earned from the boat as "a huge sum" to use his natural advantages, I couldn't say much.

He claimed that if he stayed with us in the temple every day, he would have nightmares. Well, who did he think he was, a demon from beyond the realm?

During the two days we stayed in Jiangning, we visited many scenic spots.

Although it had a somewhat forced and superficial festive atmosphere, as the Spring Festival, the city was still filled with the lively and festive mood of the holiday.

Various shops and more vendors than usual were selling their goods more enthusiastically.

Shepherd's purse porridge, calamus soup, cold mixed reed shoots, and water shield fish soup.

"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, all things come to life tonight, distant geese float in the sky, nearby fish break the ice."

"Three yang days are especially auspicious, the seventh day is the most auspicious."

"Year after year, the spring light is good, today the spring light is especially new."

From time to time, children singing folk songs would run by, holding calamus and willow branches, waving them joyfully.

Bao Tou Dun was also infected by the atmosphere, holding my hand and running along with them for a while, then stopping to catch his breath and continue shopping, or complaining of fatigue with a flushed face and sitting in a roadside tea and snack stall.

Occasionally, passing boats would also be heard singing slowly.

"The old joy remains, your sorrow is deep; the new year's tears for the country, today's heart by the door... the oriole must not sing, I am reciting by the river..."

The sorrowful and nostalgic folk songs, sung in the soft Wu dialect, were filled with a certain ambiguous and provocative charm.

Sometimes, we would see flower boats stop and set up something like an advertisement board on the shore. Out of curiosity, I looked at a few, and they turned out to be recruitment notices.

Various flower houses offered different rewards, from substantial sums of money and fame to all-inclusive services including meals, lodging, and companionship, for lyrics and tunes that could be innovative, whether in the style of white drama or grand music, ancient or traditional northern and southern music.

The low threshold meant that I had a thought that if I were short of money, I could make some by selling a few modern songs I knew, reimagined in a traditional style.

As we walked, we returned to the main street of the so-called Hengtang district.

"Whipping the Spring Ox!"

With the distant shouts growing closer, the quiet streets on both sides suddenly burst with people, like an anthill doused with boiling water.

They rushed to the street in new clothes, creating waves of noise that rose to the sky.

A large yellow clay ox, draped in colorful silk, was carried by a group of men in green clothes, green hats, and green banners, slowly approaching, accompanied by a crowd. Dozens of elaborately dressed female entertainers led the way.

The crowd, shoulder to shoulder and drenched in sweat, followed the ox, making the journey feel like a fierce battle, not to mention the number of hats, scarves, and shoes that were lost along the way.

On the square in front of the Jiangning government office, an altar was already prepared, and the oldest white-bearded official, trembling, performed the incense ceremony. He was so old that he had to stop several times to catch his breath and rub his chest while reading the short sacrificial text.

It was essentially a plea to heaven, declaring that he would work hard in the spring and asking for favorable weather, or else there would be no pork to eat next year.

Then, a man dressed in a bird-faced, feather-bodied costume, representing the god of vegetation, "Goumang," wielded a willow-branch whip and fiercely lashed the clay ox, which was dragged on a cart.

This act announced the beginning of the agricultural year and prayed for a bountiful harvest.

The crowd closest to the ox surged forward, led by the village heads, and fought to grab the broken pieces of the clay ox, creating a chaotic scene of dust and flying fists.

In no time, the large clay ox was completely gone, and even the last bits of soil were scraped away, as the broken pieces were believed to bring good luck to silkworms and ward off epidemics.

Those who managed to grab pieces of the ox were escorted by their clans and ran out of the crowd, forming new waves of people.

We were pushed along by the crowd, and I had to hold Bao Tou Dun tightly to keep us together, then struggle to the front to protect her, being swept along the unfamiliar streets.

Well, I admit I didn't think it through enough.

This was the old site of the Jiangdu River Channel Office, but it seemed to have been abandoned due to the war, leaving only some ditches and channels still flowing with a trickle of water.

The most prominent remaining structure was a ruined stele pavilion, where a large stone slab, though broken in two, still bore the faintly visible inscriptions of the old Jiangning river, channel, and underground drain distribution.

I suddenly felt a sense of familiarity. After thinking for a while, I remembered a piece of paper with lines drawn on it that I had obtained from the dead raccoon, which also had the seal of the Water Supervision Office of Jiangdu. I didn't know its purpose at the time.

I still had it with me, so I took it out and compared it. It didn't match, but when I flipped it over, some of the lines did align. The lines that didn't match were likely additional explorations.

Although it was an unexpected discovery far from here, I had a feeling that the raccoon had found something significant, but his selfishness led him to hide it, and it eventually ended up with me.

At that moment, a loud call came from the water. After a moment, I confirmed that it was for me, as I saw a fellow traveler from the boat, one of Han Liangchen's men.

"Our leader has been thinking of you ever since we parted..."

He warmly invited us over and brought the small boat closer.

After much consideration, I decided to send Bao Tou Dun back and then step back onto the boat. If anything went wrong, I could easily jump into the water and swim away.

This was a pleasure boat suitable only for the inner lake and river network, with a low deck and waterline, and a three-story structure that could only be used for slow tours. In the river, even a slight storm could capsize it.

The soft music and the Wu dialect singing, though somewhat incomprehensible, were still pleasant to the ear. The warm cabin made it comfortable to wear light silk robes and shirts.

The interior was elegantly decorated, creating a more pleasing atmosphere. Compared to the Yunsheng, a flower boat that operated under the guise of a dance troupe, this place was clearly more professional.

Judging by the value and taste of the decorations, in modern times, it would be a high-end VIP private club, far more luxurious than ordinary nightclubs.

This didn't seem like a place that Han Liangchen, as a leader of the militia, could afford, which made me curious about his true identity.

A few steps led us to the largest deck of the boat, and we crossed two incense-filled rooms to reach a spacious interior.

The large hall was scattered with about a dozen guests and a varying number of female entertainers. Most of them barely glanced at me or nodded slightly, clearly used to such scenes.

"Brother Youde..."

Han Liangchen, holding two half-dressed female entertainers, looked slightly flushed and warm from drinking, and greeted me with a bow.

"Since we met on the boat, it's a pleasure to see you again. Please allow me to show you some hospitality."

The female entertainers were attractive, with graceful figures and well-trained manners, creating a pleasing atmosphere.

I was led to a seat by the window and sat down. A female entertainer from the back of the cabin came to sit beside me.

Her makeup, with colored foreheads and phoenix eyes, was a bit unfamiliar to me, used to modern beauty standards, but it was still pleasant to look at.

The only one not accompanying a guest was a mature woman with the demeanor of a wealthy family's lady, with a seductive figure and intricate black and gold eye makeup. Though she spoke little, she skillfully maintained the atmosphere and tone of the gathering.

She seemed to read the room well and said, "Su Su, go wash your face and come back to entertain the guests."

A moment later, a soft body returned to my side, looking much more comfortable.

"Su Su is still inexperienced, please be kind to her..."

Her Mandarin was clear and proper, making communication easier.

"Perfect, just perfect..."

I recalled my experiences from my time at the academy, where I was invited to celebrations and private gatherings, though I never stayed overnight, I wasn't completely at a loss.

Her gentle gaze and attentive manner made me feel appropriately valued. She initiated conversations and found topics to keep the atmosphere lively, ensuring no one felt neglected or bored.

She served me food and drink without me having to lift a finger, responding to my slightest gestures or expressions.

Though she was close, she wasn't overly clingy, maintaining a comfortable distance that allowed me to do anything I wanted.

For example, if I wanted to make a move, she would play along, and if I wanted to have a deeper, private conversation, she would cover for me.

It made me feel almost free from any disturbance, able to indulge in pleasure. This place, known for its courtesans, lived up to its reputation. I listened to their conversations, which were about poetry and music.

Despite the chaos and famine outside, these people were discussing art and literature, which gave me a sense of absurdity.

What was Han Liangchen up to? I felt like a goose that had wandered into a literary salon.

Even though I wasn't particularly interested in most of the topics, Su Su would still engage me, discussing local anecdotes and historical stories, keeping the conversation lively and avoiding boredom.

She even had time to whisper and exchange topics with her companions.

I relaxed and shared some humorous stories from the modern era, like the "Three Words and Two Slaps" and "Laughing Forest," which quickly made her giggle and spread the laughter to others.

The water outside suddenly became wider, and the current more noticeable.

We reached the Yanzi Ridge, and in the river breeze, we were led to the top of the ridge, where a stele pavilion with a history of several hundred years overlooked the river.

The green stele, however, made me feel a bit disoriented.

"Storms rise over Zhongshan, a million heroes cross the river.

The tiger crouches, the dragon coils, today surpassing the past, the world turns upside down, with great emotion.

Chase the defeated foe with remaining courage, do not seek fame like the Overlord.

If heaven had feelings, it would grow old, the righteous path of humanity is change."

The annotations by famous scholars from different dynasties claimed that this was written by the famous Liang Gong during his visit to Jiangning, reflecting on the fall of the Southern Chen to the Sui, with grand and skillful language.

But I immediately recognized it as Mao Zedong's "Inscription on the People's Liberation Army Occupying Nanjing," appearing in this era, it was quite amusing.

At this moment, Han Liangchen's drunkenness and frivolity had vanished, and he was focused, staring intently ahead.