Grain Falls from the Sky
Anle Commandery, Spirit Prefecture.
Early in the morning, Commandery Governor Liu Yuanfeng summoned the yamen runners and had them clear out the official granaries of the Commandery Office. The commotion was enormous, drawing the attention of many people throughout the commandery city.
At the same time, the city's other two largest warehouses were also cleared out and scrubbed spotless, as though they were to serve some great purpose.
Before each warehouse, offering tables and ritual altars had been set up.
The burning incense sent forth curling smoke, its fragrance carrying a quiet, tranquil air down the long streets.
Not only did the yamen runners and guards posted nearby gather around, but commoners from the streets and nearby parts of the city came as well. Many of the elderly and frail supported one another. Most were sallow-faced and emaciated, too weak even to walk properly.
More importantly, every face was ashen, without the faintest glimmer of light.
"What is Commandery Governor Liu doing?" The people whispered among themselves. In the Great Zhou Dynasty, commoners addressed officials directly by their names and titles, while officials generally referred to themselves as "this official" or "so-and-so."
"Could he be praying to the gods, begging Heaven to make this disaster pass quickly?" Seeing the offering tables and ritual altars, someone guessed as much.
A middle-aged merchant who lived near the yamen and had heard quite a bit from the runners glanced around before lowering his voice. "Have you heard? Our Spirit Prefecture's Provincial Prefect and Inspector are dead."
"What? How did they die? When?" This shocking news immediately made everyone turn to look.
The middle-aged merchant tucked his hands into his sleeves and said excitedly, "At that dog official Qian Wen's fiftieth birthday banquet. We were all on the verge