usatvline Chapter 90 Capital Gazette
Chapter 90 Capital Gazette
The capital city, the Forbidden City, the office of the Directorate of Ceremonial.
The autumn rain has been falling for three days and three nights.
The glazed tiles of the Forbidden City gleamed from the rain, reflecting the leaden sky like silent bronze mirrors. Four tallow lamps burned in the guardhouse, their flames flickering in the draft, casting dim, illuminating shadows on the walls.
Wang Tiqian sat at his desk, a stack of memorials laid out in front of him.
"Lu Yan."
He was certainly familiar with this name.
Two years ago, this man, through Liu Cheng's introduction, personally visited him in Beijing. At that time, he presented a Western-style self-ringing clock and sat in the duty room for most of the hour, reporting on the business situation in Shandong. Wang Tiqian thought that this man had some skills and was efficient in his work, but he was just a white glove with a scholar's degree, not an important person. He had met him and then forgotten about him, not paying much attention to him.
Later, Liu Cheng sent several more letters, each one more fervent than the last. He said that this Lu Yan was not only good at business, but also at training troops and manufacturing firearms, and that he had raised an elite army that was more than ten times stronger than the soldiers in the garrison.
Now that his name has appeared on the list of merits for suppressing the rebellion, it's a good opportunity to take advantage of the situation.
This man came from a military family; his ancestors were centurions in Qi Jiguang's army. After the family fell into poverty, he became a subsidized student. In the 46th year of the Wanli reign... no, in the 46th year of the Wanli reign, he passed the imperial examination and went on to do business in Jinan. In just three or four years, he went from a poor scholar burdened with debt to a prominent merchant on the Grand Canal.
What's even more commendable is that this person is sensible. His annual filial piety gifts are never lacking, and he never forgets to send greetings during holidays. The money isn't much, but it's reliable and never runs out.
In Wang Tiqian's view, this kind of person is much more reliable than those nouveau riche who spend money like water.
"Someone come here."
Wang Tiqian put down his teacup.
A young eunuch entered in response and bowed, awaiting orders.
"Go to the side room of the Hall of Mental Cultivation and see if Eunuch Wei has rested. If he is still awake, tell him I have something to report."
"yes."
The young eunuch accepted the order and left.
Wang Tiqian picked up the memorial again and lightly tapped the four characters "sharp firearms" with his finger.
In his previous letter, Liu Cheng mentioned that Lu Yan had an old blacksmith under his command who came from Qi Jiguang's army and knew how to make a new type of musket that did not require a matchlock.
Manufacturing firearms without authorization is punishable by death according to the law.
But Wang Tiqian did not make a fuss.
Having spent thirty years in the Forbidden City, he had long understood one thing—some things are better left unseen.
Besides, this thing might come in handy in the future.
After about the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, the little eunuch returned.
"Eunuch Wang, Eunuch Wei is resting in the side room and wants to speak with you."
"knew."
Wang Tiqian tucked the memorial into his sleeve, straightened his clothes, and stepped out of the duty room.
It's still raining.
Holding an oil-paper umbrella, he stepped on the wet gold bricks, walked through the long corridor, and arrived at a side room of the Hall of Mental Cultivation.
The side room was warm and cozy, with an underfloor heating system burning. The scent of sandalwood filled the air, mingling with the delicate fragrance of tea.
Wei Zhongxian leaned back on the couch, holding a string of sandalwood prayer beads in his hand, and closed his eyes to rest.
He was fifty-three years old this year, with a burly build, a rugged face, no beard on his chin, and even with his triangular eyes closed, his brows exuded an imposing and dignified aura.
"Eunuch Wei."
Wang Tiqian entered and bowed.
"sit."
Wei Zhongxian opened his eyes and waved his hand. His voice was hoarse and low, like sandpaper scraping against a wooden board.
"What is it?"
"Good news has arrived from Shandong."
Wang Tiqian took out a memorial from his sleeve and presented it with both hands.
"The White Lotus Rebellion has been quelled, and Xu Hongru has been beheaded."
"oh?"
Wei Zhongxian took the memorial and glanced at it. He didn't know many characters, but after so many imperial edicts over the years, he could recognize most of the common characters.
"That old bastard Zhao Yan has finally accomplished something."
He casually tossed the memorial onto the couch.
"How was the credit divided?"
"The greatest credit goes to Yang Zhaoji, the Shandong General; followed by Governor Zhao Yan; and then the various military commanders and guerrillas. It's all the same old story, nothing new."
Wang Tiqian paused, then changed the subject.
"However, the memorial mentioned someone. I think it's worth your attention, Your Excellency."
"who?"
"Lu Yan, a scholar from Jinan."
Wei Zhongxian frowned slightly, and the prayer beads spun twice between his fingers.
"Lu Yan...I don't really remember him."
"This man is one of Liu Cheng's men," Wang Tiqian said calmly. "He joined us two years ago. During this suppression of the rebellion, he led the local militia to transport grain, and not a single bushel was lost along the way. Later, he devised a plan to launch a night attack on Yuncheng, personally leading men to scale the city walls and opening the gates with the help of those inside. Zhao Yan's memorial to the throne says he made 'outstanding contributions.'"
"A mere scholar who passed the imperial examination?"
Wei Zhongxian became interested and sat up slightly.
"Can they fight a war?"
"It can not only fight battles, but also train troops."
Wang Tiqian lowered his voice and slowed his speech by half a beat—this was a rhythm he had figured out over the years. Whenever he got to a crucial point, he would slow down so that the other person could hear him more clearly.
According to Liu Cheng, this man commanded a well-equipped and highly trained local militia. On the battlefield, they routed the White Lotus rebels, proving even stronger than the government troops.
"Stronger than the government troops?"
Wei Zhongxian narrowed his eyes, and the prayer beads stopped.
"Where did he get his skills?"
"This man comes from a military family; his ancestors were centurions in Qi Jiguang's army. Although his family has fallen on hard times, he still has some inherent strength."
Wang Tiqian carefully chose his words, not too confidently—lest Wei Zhongxian become suspicious, nor too casually—lest Wei Zhongxian take it lightly.
"Moreover, this man is extremely shrewd and a master businessman. In just three or four years, he has established a commercial network along the canal. This grain transport was carried out via his own trade routes, which is why he was able to ensure that 'not a single stone was lost along the way.'"
"Um."
Wei Zhongxian nodded, seemingly lost in thought.
"A person who is good at both getting things done and dealing with people is rare."
"Eunuch Wei is right."
Wang Tiqian bowed in agreement and added:
"For the past two years, this man, through Liu Cheng, has sent a small gift to the servants every year. The amount isn't large, but it's never insufficient, and he never forgets to send greetings during festivals. He's a sensible person."
This statement may seem casual, but it is actually carefully considered.
"Sending gifts every year" indicates that this person is loyal and reliable; "the amount is not large" indicates that this person is not a nouveau riche and will not attract attention; "never lacking" indicates that this person is steady in doing things and is not someone who works sporadically.
Wei Zhongxian nodded in satisfaction.
"What is his current status?"
"A scholar who passed the imperial examination. A commoner."
"White body?"
Wei Zhongxian gave a cold laugh.
"Having performed such a great service, he's still a commoner? Are those military officers trying to steal all the credit?"
"The military officers certainly wanted to claim the credit for themselves," Wang Tiqian said, a hint of indignation in his voice. "However, Yang Zhaoji was relatively kind enough to mention Lu Yan's name in his memorial. Liu Cheng also stepped in to advocate for him."
"OK."
Wei Zhongxian patted the edge of the couch and made a decision.
"Since he has rendered meritorious service, let him be granted an official position. He is a scholar who passed the imperial examination, and he has contributed to suppressing the rebellion; it is only right to appoint him as a minor eighth-rank official. Go and arrange it."
"yes."
Wang Tiqian bowed and accepted the order, then said:
"In my humble opinion, we should appoint him as the Prefectural Clerk of the Jinan Prefecture, a rank of eighth grade. The Clerk manages documents and archives; it's a low-profile position, but it allows him access to official correspondence within the prefectural government, which will be beneficial for our future dealings in Shandong."
"That's settled then."
Wei Zhongxian leaned back on the couch and closed his eyes. The prayer beads began to turn again, one bead at a time, slowly and steadily.
"Also, send someone to deliver a message to him."
"Please speak, sir."
"Just tell them—we know about him. Tell him to do a good job."
The words sounded light, but Wang Tiqian sensed their weight.
"I know him"—these four words, spoken by Wei Zhongxian, were more effective than an imperial edict.
It means: You've come into my view. I've seen what you've done. You're one of my people, and no one else dares to touch you.
It also means: you'd better behave yourself. I can elevate you, and I can crush you.
"This servant understands."
Wang Tiqian bowed and left the side room.
Back in his duty room, he picked up a pen, spread out a sheet of plain paper, dipped it in ink, and wrote a short message:
"The matter in Shandong is settled. Lu Yan has been appointed Prefect of Jinan Prefecture, a rank of eighth grade. Eunuch Wei himself said, 'I know him.' You should consider the weight of those words. Quickly inform Lu Yan to focus on his work and not disappoint his expectations."
After writing, he folded the letter, put it in an envelope, sealed it with sealing wax, and stamped it with his personal seal.
"Someone come here."
The young eunuch entered as instructed.
"This letter should be given to Liu Cheng's men and sent to Shandong by express courier, at the fastest possible speed. There must be no mistakes."
"yes."
The young eunuch took the envelope with both hands and trotted out of the duty room.
Wang Tiqian leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes to rest.
Outside the window, the autumn rain pattered down, pattering on the glazed tiles.
Thousands of miles away in Jinan, a young man named Lu Yan was unaware that his fate had already been quietly rewritten within the Forbidden City.
A lowly official of the eighth rank is as insignificant as a speck of dust in the face of this all-consuming power machine.
But Wang Tiqian knew that some dust would one day grow into towering trees.
He closed the memorial, picked up his teacup, and took a sip of the now-cold Longjing tea.
"Lu Yan..."
He recalled the composed demeanor of the young man in the duty room two years ago, and a slight smile appeared on his lips.
"I wasn't wrong about it."