Early summer in the capital was increasingly lively. Crowds thronged the streets, men and women alike wearing brightly colored summer garments, traversing the bustling market filled with shops and street vendors.
But the street's noise suddenly froze. The crowded masses quickly made way as a squad of riders entered the scene.
Their clothing was dazzling, intricate, and eye-catching. The heavy pounding of horse hooves against the ground seemed to resonate in everyone's hearts.
They ignored the street's bustle, galloping as if riding in an empty wilderness.
No one dared to block their path, as being trampled to death could still result in charges of obstructing official business, not only leaving one dead in vain but implicating their family as well.
Thus, without a single shout, merely seeing their attire was enough to compel all—regardless of gender, age, beggar, or wealthy merchant, even dynasty officials—to deftly move aside.
This group of Jinyiwei galloped down the street like a blade slicing through, appearing in an instant and disappearing just as quickly, the crowd parting and regrouping in their wake.
"Who's about to meet their misfortune now?"
"Looks like someone's house will get searched and seized."
As the wolf-like and tiger-like squad departed, low whispers of speculation arose among the streetgoers. Yet within the murmurs, a voice different from past sentiments emerged.
"Let them search! The more, the better—at least it's faster than robbing money from small vendors."
This remark silenced the crowd for a moment.
"You can't make such comparisons," an elder sitting in a teahouse remarked. "It's for fixing up the city's appearance. Those vendors roaming streets and bridges truly need supervision."
"Then why weren't they supervised before?" someone immediately retorted with a scoff.
"There weren't as many people before," the elder responded amicably. "Nowadays, migrants and beggars crowd both inside and outside the city. It's chaotic beyond recognition."
But this comment met with even more rebuttals.
"Cut it out! Blaming migrants now?"
"Everyone knows deep down—it's all just about grabbing money."
"Exactly. It's just for raising funds to reward Duke Chengguo."
The teahouse grew noisy and chaotic.
In an elegant private room upstairs, someone furrowed their brows as they listened to the commotion downstairs.
"Boss," he turned back and addressed those inside the room. "The talk outside is becoming increasingly inappropriate. Should we intervene?"
Among the five men seated inside, one turned toward him upon hearing this.
"We're running a business, so how could we control what customers say?" he replied sternly. "For us, a teahouse trying to silence people is truly what's inappropriate."
The man by the window lowered his head in acknowledgment, stepped back, and stood aside.
"So, Old Dong, what do you think about all this?" asked the man sitting opposite the boss.
"What's there to think? Those small vendors and merchants don't have much money anyway," the boss replied. "If the funds raised are really for rewarding Duke Chengguo, that'd be far too shabby."
"Old Dong, it's not just about money," another man interjected, coughing lightly as he brushed his mustache, his sharp eyes glinting. "This matter mustn't be condoned."
"Indeed! This time it's small vendors and merchants, but next time it'll be us," another man said with a frown. "Once the feudal authority gets a taste of this, their appetite will only grow larger."
Seated centrally, Boss Dong set down the tea he'd been brewing.
"So, what do you all suggest?" he asked. "The feudal authority hasn't explicitly demanded silver from merchants for the rewards, nor have they targeted major merchants like us for inspections. If we were to raise objections now, wouldn't that be kicking up a baseless fuss?"
The men exchanged glances, and someone chuckled.
"I think that's the brilliance of the feudal authority," he remarked. "Slowly slicing with a dull knife, boiling frogs in lukewarm water."
"Exactly," someone nodded, looking at the others present. "They know that directly asking major merchants like us for money would be impossible—we'd certainly oppose it. So this time, they're targeting small vendors and merchants. First, these individuals are powerless, unable to stir up resistance. Second, we remain indifferent since it doesn't concern us. Once this matter blows over and everyone grows accustomed to it, they'll target us next, citing precedent."
The men nodded, murmuring their agreement softly.
"The feudal authority's intentions are truly sinister," Boss Dong sighed.
"We can't let this slide!" one man said, slapping the table. "They must be made to understand that this approach won't work."
Everyone in the room nodded.
"But how do we do that? How do we make our point without implicating ourselves?" they asked.
"Here's an idea," Boss Dong suddenly said. "Small vendors and merchants are struggling. If we can help, why not lend them a hand?"
The men turned their gaze toward him.
"How do we help?" one of them asked in a low voice. "We need justification."
Boss Dong chuckled.
"What justification do ordinary folks and small merchants need?" he replied, placing the broken tea cakes into the boiling water. "They simply want to survive. If their livelihoods are taken away, they naturally cry out for help. Denying people even the right to speak—the suppression of voices—is more dangerous than damming rivers."
The tea boiled vigorously.
"Go where the people gather and speak up there," he said.
"Speaking of gatherings, isn't Duke Chengguo returning soon?"
"Parading through the streets to celebrate victories, greeted by the prince, summoned at the city gates by the emperor—countless people gathering, it'll be quite the spectacle."
"With Duke Chengguo's illustrious reputation and achievements in saving the people, who knows—crying out for help might even open a path forward."
The teapot was lifted, and an elegant maid served the freshly brewed tea to each man present, its fragrance permeating the room.
Boss Dong raised his teacup.
"Who can save the people?" he asked.
The assembled men smiled, raising their cups as well.
"Duke Chengguo," they replied in unison.
"Who can grant us, the ordinary folk, a way to survive?" Boss Dong continued.
"Duke Chengguo," the men said together.
Boss Dong raised his cup higher.
"To Duke Chengguo," he said with a smile.
"To Duke Chengguo," they echoed with smiles.
The fragrant tea was held high, then quaffed together.
................................
As Duke Chengguo's army drew closer to the capital, court matters increasingly revolved around preparations to welcome him.
Every department and government office busied themselves with arrangements. The previous matter of collecting salaries seemed to have faded from discussion.
But in truth, it hadn't disappeared.
Outside the door came hushed voices, fluctuating between laughter and arguing—just intelligible enough to intrigue but not clearly audible.
Ning Yunzhao suddenly set down his paper and pen, quietly lifting his robe and tiptoeing toward the door, pressing his ear to the crack.
A fellow bureaucrat in the room was dumbstruck by this scene.
"Ning…" he blurted out in astonishment.
Ning Yunzhao quickly silenced him with a finger to his lips, pointed toward the outside, and resumed listening at the door. Just as he leaned in, the door swung open.
The person entering hadn't expected anyone to be leaning against the door and let out a startled yelp.
The murmurs outside instantly ceased, and numerous glances shifted toward them.
"Lord Ning, this… this…" the person entering stammered in astonishment.
What was going on?
"Oh, I was just about to head out," Ning Yunzhao replied, his expression unwavering.
.
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(Third day of not being able to type—missing it so much~(>_<)~)