Retrieving Records at the Literary Institute

Retrieving Records at the Literary Institute

After leaving the dock, Zhang Yu followed the waiting hall corridor toward the outside of the harbor.

People streamed through the great hall corridor. He noticed the arched glass roof overhead, its space seeming to rise without end, allowing light to pour straight down through it.

Though this wood-and-stone structure had been built when the Protectorate Office was first established and had weathered a hundred years of wind and rain, it remained wholly intact, fully displaying the superb and exquisite skill of Celestial Xia craftsmen.

Just then, he suddenly heard a strange cadence. Turning his head, he saw a barbarian man with paint smeared across his face kneeling on the ground beneath the light, arms flung wide as he repeated the same words over and over.

A shrill copper whistle suddenly sounded. A group of harbor guards carrying red-tipped lacquered staffs and wearing copper whistles around their necks rushed over, forced the man to the ground, bound him, gagged his mouth, and swiftly took him away.

Zhang Yu gave the matter some thought. He was extremely familiar with the languages of the native tribes near Peace Mountain. What that barbarian man had just said translated as, "The offspring of the Plague God is born amid darkness and rotting trees. It lies behind the light!"

"Plague God" carried different metaphorical meanings in different contexts. Here, it meant the god of pestilence.

He remembered clearly that the Other God Cultist who had traded with him worshipped this so-called Plague God. It now seemed that there were quite a few such Other God Cultists. No wonder the Protectorate Office had ordered a strict investigation.

But he was also wondering: since that Plague God statue contained Source Energy, might similar idols contain it as well?

Once he had settled somewhere, he felt it necessary to find a way to learn more about this Other God Cult.

After walking out through the lofty arched corridor gate, he found an even broader avenue outside.

His steps halted. From where he stood, the many buildings upon the inner-city plateau were clustered amid wisteria trees and more than a dozen waterfalls, shrouded in a hazy rainbow. They looked like a city in the heavens. Anyone seeing such beauty for the first time would likely feel boundless yearning for that place.

Not far away stood several barbarians waiting here to make a living. Seeing Zhang Yu remain still, they exchanged glances, then approached with smiles piled across their faces. They all stretched out their hands as if to help carry his luggage. Some muttered to ask whether he needed to hire a carriage, while several richly dressed women wearing heavy makeup attempted to sidle closer.

Zhang Yu ignored them. Sweeping his gaze over the area, he beckoned to a guard standing nearby. The man immediately strode over, and the barbarians who had crowded around scattered in all directions.

Zhang Yu took out a Celestial Xia Gold Yuan and handed it to the guard. After accepting it, the guard blew a whistle toward the outside. Before long, a four-wheeled carriage with an enclosed cabin came rolling over to the light clatter of hooves and stopped steadily before him.

Zhang Yu examined it. The two brown horses had sleek coats, strong limbs, and high-raised tails. They should be Qianlu Horses from the Open Plain along the lower reaches of the Dawn River. It was indeed an officially hired harbor carriage.

He nodded, had the driver load up his luggage, then grasped the carriage shaft and climbed into the cabin.

The driver asked, "Where to, young master?"

Zhang Yu said, "The Exchange Voucher Office first."

Within the Eastern Protectorate, every time one arrived somewhere, one had to exchange one's travel pass locally and pay the road tax.

Besides recording the pass holder's identity, age, place of origin, and any record of wrongdoing, the document required a red-clay fingerprint seal and a brief description of the holder's appearance.

The travel pass Shi Dongliang had mentioned earlier was this very thing.

If Shi Dongliang had insisted on recording Zhang Yu's involvement in trading prohibited goods and reported it after reaching the capital, that record would remain on his travel pass forever and could become a stain upon him in the future.

Of course, exchanging travel passes was not compulsory. One could choose not to do so. But without one, lodging and travel cost more in taxes, one would be inconvenienced everywhere, and one would draw particular attention. When the Protectorate Office's judicial officials investigated cases, such people were the first they sought out.

The driver was clearly familiar with such matters. He said naturally, "It's right ahead. Sit tight, young master."

The Exchange Voucher Office stood at the end of the harbor avenue, right beside the maritime tax office. The entire building was constructed from white square stone, topped by a domed roof, with the Protectorate Office's Cicada-Wing Banner hanging high above it. It was easy to recognize.

By the time the carriage arrived, the plaza before its gates was already packed with all manner of carts and horses, while people flowed endlessly in and out.

There were thirty-six corridor halls responsible for exchanging passes, arranged in a circle around the dome. The An clerks inside, dressed in blue cloth shirts with tight sleeves, worked with great efficiency. Searching records, checking information, questioning, signing, stamping, collecting payment, and issuing replacements—everything was completed in one smooth sequence. Though many people came and went, Zhang Yu received his travel pass very quickly.

When he returned to the carriage, he fell into thought. From disembarking until now, most of the attendants and clerks he had encountered had been An people with yellow eyes and fine brows.

These An people had been the first natives to assimilate after Celestial Xia established the Protectorate Office here. Yet who could have imagined that merely a hundred years ago, the An people had still been barbarians roaming the wilderness, capable only of gathering and hunting?

Back then, the An people had been covered in parasites, malformed and ugly. Due to their custom of intermarriage among close kin, most suffered from severe hereditary diseases. Yet now they were mostly tall and ruddy-faced, versed in propriety and letters, no different in appearance from ordinary Celestial Xia People.

In truth, they were now Celestial Xia People of An blood.

Still, he knew that the An people had attained their present standing because they had contributed greatly in the war sixty years ago.

At that moment, he heard the driver asking where to go next. He said, "To the Literary Institute under the Education Administration Office."

The New Method was taught only at Taiyang Academy, and entering the Academy was the first step. Yet not everyone was qualified to enter that place.

First, one had to be a Celestial Xia person. Second, one had to pass the Protectorate Office's local Selection Examination before the age of sixteen. Finally, one required the guarantee of a person of standing. The local authorities would then draw up a record volume containing one's detailed history. After the Protectorate Office verified and sealed it, it would be divided into two copies: one kept by the student and one stored at the Literary Institute.

Taiyang Academy itself did not interfere in this matter. In the past, the Protectorate Office would first select the talents it needed for itself, handing only the remainder over to the Academy. It was said this was to prevent all officials from coming from the same background.

Because Zhang Yu had come into this world carrying mature memories, he had developed his own methods of study. At the age of twelve, he had first passed the traditional Gentleman's Examination, then passed the Selection Examination that same year.

He had originally been ready to head for Taiyang Academy, but at that time, his adoptive father had believed him too young to protect himself and hired that Old Cultivator teacher for him.

During the following five years, he spent the first two studying the Breath Circulation Technique under that man. During the next three, he had continually traveled and cultivated abroad, so he had never truly managed to set out.

Fortunately, so long as a student had passed the Selection Examination and had not yet exceeded eighteen years of age, the record volume would remain sealed and preserved. Now, he merely needed to retrieve it before entering Taiyang Academy to study.

Urged on by the crack of the whip, the carriage set off again. Zhang Yu unfolded one newspaper after another and began to browse.

As expected of the capital's newspapers, their contents were far richer than local papers. After reading for a while, he gained quite a few useful pieces of information.

From these newspapers, he also noticed that personnel changes in the Metropolitan Hall had apparently become rather frequent lately. These changes were happening just before the period of Scholars' Deliberation. Anyone with even a little understanding of the Protectorate Office's circumstances would know this was no good sign.

But then he turned to a tabloid. It actually claimed that the recent changes in Protectorate Office positions were because many officials had suffered assassinations in Auspicious Light City. His heart stirred. He flipped through it again and discovered that there was only this one copy; it appeared to have been slipped in casually.

After some thought, he folded the newspaper several times and hid it in the inner pocket of his cloak, only then picking up the remaining papers to continue reading.

"Eh?"

Not long after, he spotted a piece of news in an obscure corner. It seems this tribe truly is heading toward the Protectorate Office...

Just as he was about to read it closely, the driver's voice suddenly came from outside. "Young master, we've arrived."

So soon?

Zhang Yu was somewhat surprised. From what he knew, the Literary Institute should have been within the city walls, not far from the inner city. Yet it now appeared to be near the harbor.

But that had been five years ago. There should have been changes during those five years.

He stepped down from the carriage and looked around. The surroundings were rather secluded—or perhaps tranquil was a better word. Beneath the shade of several cypress trees stood a courtyard in a distinctly Celestial Xia style. The rows of buildings all had hard-gable roofs, vermilion-lacquered pillars and beams, and firebreak walls on either side, though they looked somewhat worn down.

He removed his hooded hat, passed through the gate, and entered the front courtyard. Finding the place exceptionally quiet, with no one coming to receive him, he climbed the moss-covered stone steps into the main hall.

Behind a long table sat a middle-aged clerk with a long beard in a rosewood armchair, holding a book scroll and reading. Hearing someone enter, he did not even raise his head, merely asking casually, "What is it?"

Zhang Yu clasped his hands in salute. "Clerk, this student has come to retrieve the record volume sealed here."

"Oh?"

The clerk raised his head. When he saw Zhang Yu, he was briefly lost in a daze. He coughed, stood up, and became somewhat more courteous. "Please let me inspect your name card and duplicate record, young master."

Zhang Yu took out the two items from the inner pocket of his cloak and handed them over. After receiving them, the clerk said, "Please wait," then slowly paced toward the rear hall.

After a long while, the clerk emerged from within with a somewhat strange expression. He placed the duplicate record and name card on the flat table and said, "Young Master Zhang, take these back. Your record volume isn't here."

Zhang Yu looked at him. "It isn't here?"

The clerk sighed. "It's gone. You understand, don't you?"

Seeing the faint pity in the clerk's eyes, Zhang Yu's thoughts turned, and he immediately understood. His record volume... had been appropriated by someone else!