In the capital, prominent locations in various wards, markets, and nearby villages were plastered with red-backed notices by Ministry of Rites officials.
On a large tree in front of a village ancestral hall in the capital’s outskirts, one such notice was posted, drawing a curious crowd of villagers eager to see the fresh announcement.
“Old Scholar Zhang, we’re all illiterate here, you’re the only one who can read. Quick, tell us what it says. Is it a wanted poster? Why’s there no portrait of some notorious bandit?” the villagers asked, staring at the characters on the notice, assuming it was, as usual, a wanted poster for a fugitive. But it didn’t look like one, with no bandit’s image, and since they couldn’t read, they grabbed a white-haired elder in a long robe to read it aloud.
“What wanted poster? Can’t you see it’s red-backed? Just the colour tells you it’s good news. Let me explain it simply, since you won’t understand the formal language. Suzhou achieved a great victory, didn’t it? They wiped out forty thousand Japanese pirates, captured hundreds, and even took a pirate leader alive. To celebrate this triumph and boost the morale of soldiers and civilians against the pirates, the court’s holding a prisoner presentation ceremony at the Meridian Gate in two days. This notice, issued by the Ministry of Rites, invites village headmen, respected gentry, and elders over eighty from our wards to attend the celebration,” Old Scholar Zhang said, straightening his back, stroking his beard with one hand, and pointing at the notice with the other as he explained to the curious villagers.
“Good heavens, that’s wonderful, wonderful…” a burly man suddenly leapt three feet high, as excited as if he’d topped the imperial exams.
“Butcher Zhang, have you lost it? Your family’s been slaughtering pigs for generations, you’ve got nothing to do with headmen or gentry,” the crowd teased.
“Headmen and gentry have nothing to do with me, but my great-grandfather’s eighty-one this year. The notice says elders over eighty can attend the ceremony, which means my great-grandfather can go, maybe even see the Emperor. Good heavens, our Zhang family’s ancestral graves must be smoking with luck,” Butcher Zhang said, brimming with excitement and pride.
“Ugh, you’re right. Shame my dad’s only seventy, what a useless father,” one onlooker sighed enviously.
As they discussed the notice, the village headman arrived to tally those over eighty, though only those still able to walk qualified.
At the Forbidden City’s Meridian Gate, eunuchs were directing craftsmen in simple construction, setting up a high platform and decorations.
“The prisoner presentation ceremony at the Meridian Gate is in two days. Today, we must set up the imperial throne properly. It must be positioned exactly centred before the gate’s pillars, not an inch off. The Imperial Observatory says it’ll be clear but windy, so ensure windproofing and warmth. Lay out the white tiger pelt on the throne, and prepare dragon’s saliva incense,” Huang Jin instructed, inspecting the progress and tirelessly repeating precautions to the supervising eunuch.
Outside the Forbidden City, Liu Mu and others had settled into the imperial guard barracks, preparing for the Meridian Gate ceremony.
They were tasked with escorting the pirate captives.
However, they’d only escort them to a point one li from the Meridian Gate, handing them over to the imperial guards, who would then present the captives at the ceremony.
Though they wouldn’t get the spotlight, there were perks, like receiving a set of ceremonial military uniforms.
After the ceremony, they could return to Suzhou.
While the capital prepared for the Meridian Gate ceremony, the eunuch sent to Suzhou to proclaim the imperial edict had already set off southward, escorted by factory guards.
Once they reached Suzhou and read the edict, Zhu Pingan would officially become Right Vice Minister of the Ying Tian Ministry of War and Governor of Zhejiang.
Though the edict hadn’t yet arrived, news of Zhu Pingan’s promotion had already spread to Suzhou and Zhejiang.
Besides local Suzhou officials, many Zhejiang officials, upon hearing the news, sent representatives early to offer congratulations.
With visitors arriving, Zhu Pingan couldn’t turn them away, especially before officially taking office, so he dealt with wave after wave of congratulatory officials.
“Remember this clearly: people may enter, but gifts may not. Absolutely no congratulatory gifts will be accepted, or they won’t be let in either,” Zhu Pingan immediately set a strict rule with the gatekeepers, firmly refusing all gifts.
Zhu Pingan had learned of his promotion two days earlier through a letter from his mentor, Xu Jie, who informed him of Emperor Jiajing’s appointment and urged him to prepare.
In the letter, Xu also mentioned another matter: Yan Shifan’s lackey, Luo Longwen, had been sent to Jiangnan on official business.
This assignment was unusual. Luo Longwen held the post of Secretary, but this trip was under the Ministry of Works’ auspices.
With Japanese pirates plaguing Jiangnan, cities there were building walls.
Originally, most small Jiangnan cities lacked walls. The region’s thriving economy, with early capitalist sprouts, meant building walls was costly and disrupted travel. Plus, it wasn’t a military hotspot, so walls were rare.
Now, with the pirate threat escalating, cities faced direct attacks. Walled cities could at least close their gates and hold out, but unwalled ones suffered terribly, as pirates stormed in, killing and burning, leaving residents in misery.
Unwalled cities were like an unprotected maiden, utterly vulnerable.
This contrast highlighted the importance of walls. Jiangnan’s relative wealth meant locals eagerly donated money and materials, sparking a fervent wall-building movement across the region.
As long as it didn’t cost the court, the court supported it, approving nearly all petitions to build walls.
The Ministry of Works, overseeing construction, had jurisdiction over these projects nationwide.
This Ministry dispatch was ostensibly to inspect and guide Jiangnan’s wall-building efforts.
However, for Luo Longwen, a Secretary, to join a Ministry of Works inspection was highly irregular.
Where there’s irregularity, there’s trouble.
Given Zhu Pingan’s conflicts with the Yan Party, and his recent promotion following the Suzhou victory, Xu Jie warned Zhu Pingan that Luo Longwen’s trip was likely aimed at him, urging caution.
“It’s not just likely, Luo Longwen is definitely coming for me,” Zhu Pingan said, folding the letter, certain of Luo Longwen’s intentions.
Luo Longwen was Yan Shifan’s loyal dog, usually clinging to him like glue, impossible to shake off. To be sent to far-off Jiangnan, it couldn’t be for something as mundane as inspecting walls.
Back in the capital, Yan Shifan had already harboured murderous intent toward Zhu Pingan, only restrained by circumstances, resulting in Zhu’s demotion to Jiangnan.
To their dismay, Zhu Pingan bounced back quickly, rising even higher. This promotion to Right Vice Minister and Governor of Zhejiang must have provoked Yan Shifan, prompting him to dispatch Luo Longwen.
No matter, Zhu Pingan thought, I’ll face soldiers with generals, floods with earthworks.
