Two Rookies Hit the Streets

Since Li Wu had left, there was no reason to keep sightseeing. Pan Long and Han Feng descended the city wall and wandered around Jade Gate City.

Jade Gate City lived up to its reputation as a major northwestern hub. Most merchant caravans and wagon trains bound for the Northlands or the Golden Gate Defense Line passed through it. Not far south of the city lay the famous Wild Goose Lake—formerly Bolten Lake. When Di Yichou, Great Xia's second emperor, toured the west and saw flocks of wild geese there, he renamed it.

The lake supplied vast quantities of fresh water. Only a source on that scale could replenish the drinking water of caravans numbering in the thousands or tens of thousands before they crossed the Black Gobi.

Wild Goose Lake was also one of Jade Gate City's famous sights. Outside autumn and winter, great numbers of waterbirds normally made their home there.

Once, when an emperor of Great Xia came to inspect the area, an unusually bold waterbird happened to beg him for food. For some reason, he was delighted. He hailed it as an auspicious omen and decreed that killing the waterbirds of Wild Goose Lake was strictly forbidden, with offenders to be tried for treason.

Generation after generation, the lake's waterbirds lost all fear of people. They even strolled and swam beside them as if no one else existed.

Such a sight was unique in all of Great Xia. Emperors throughout the dynasty had made special trips to see it, bestowing honors like "The Nation Thrives and the People Live in Peace" and "Auspicious Birds Bring Good Fortune."

Among ordinary folk, though, the sight had another name: "Birds Are Worth More Than People."

Pan Long had come at the wrong time. It was already late autumn, and the waterbirds had long since migrated to the Southlands. A thin layer of ice had even formed over the lake. When the two reached its shore, all they saw were an endless stream of water-fetching crews and the imperial boat pier, where a Painted Pleasure Boat lay moored.

Han Feng was a little disappointed. There were few lakes around Dingfeng Town, and not many sizable rivers either. He had always looked forward to seeing flocks of waterbirds. Failing that, even a vast lake rippling beneath the sunlight would have done.

Instead, there was nothing but ice. How dull.

Pan Long consoled him. "The Painted Pleasure Boat is worth seeing too. Only the emperor of Great Xia gets to enjoy a rarity like that. Back in Dingfeng Town, we could live our whole lives and never see a ship so luxurious."

"No matter how luxurious it is, it's still just a boat..."

Han Feng grumbled, but he went with Pan Long to the imperial boat pier anyway.

Troops guarded the pier and kept unauthorized visitors away. Money could not buy their way in, either. But the two came from official families and had court-issued badges to prove it. The guards gave them some leeway and allowed them onto the pier for a closer look, though they still could not approach the Painted Pleasure Boat.

Only after stepping onto the pier could they appreciate just how lavish something made for an emperor could be. The entire pier was built from fine pinewood, with flowerbeds planted with evergreen shrubs. Though heavy snow would soon blanket the ground, the place was still lush and green. Apart from the chill, there was no trace of autumn or winter.

The Painted Pleasure Boat was even more extraordinary. It was draped in gold and brilliant colors, and flowers and trees had actually been planted aboard it. Great slabs of crystal along both sides of its hull formed the image of dragons bearing up clouds. It was fortunate this world had supernatural arts. In Pan Long's previous life, where old man Newton could shake the world with a stamp of his foot, this "boat" would never have sailed—let alone floated.

Han Feng stared, dumbstruck. Only after a long while did he murmur, "How much would this cost?"

"You're talking money with the emperor?" Pan Long laughed. "All beneath heaven is the sovereign's land; all within its borders are the sovereign's subjects. The emperor owns the four seas and holds the Nine Provinces. All the money under heaven is his—do you think he needs to worry about the cost?"

"I'm so jealous..."

A passing patrolman picked up the conversation with a grin. "Who isn't? There's no one under heaven who doesn't envy him. Especially the ones who claim they don't—who knows how green with envy they are inside!"

The soldier walking beside him sighed. "He was born into the right family. He came into the world a crown prince, destined to inherit the throne. What good does envying him do? We can't slit our throats now and try our luck at being reborn into the Di Lineage."

"We have it pretty good ourselves," Pan Long said. "We don't have to worry about food or clothing, and we can travel around seeing the sights. That's far better than living day to day worrying about what to eat and wear."

The first soldier nodded repeatedly. "The young man's right! If we don't have to worry about food and clothing, we were born into decent lives already. These days, seven or eight people out of ten worry about food, clothing, and shelter. Being able to live out your life in peace is a blessing!"

The four chatted for a while. Only then did Pan Long and Han Feng learn that although the soldiers patrolling the pier were stationed in Jade Gate City, they were not under the city's command. They belonged to the Imperial Guards. Not only was their work much easier than that of the frontier troops, but their pay and benefits were substantially better too.

Naturally, the frontier troops resented this, and disputes often broke out between them. Military discipline was ironclad, so they dared not risk breaking regulations by coming to blows. Arguments and mutual insults, however, were commonplace.

Of course, none of that had anything to do with Pan Long or Han Feng. Both the frontier troops and the Imperial Guards were quite friendly toward the sons of Northlands officials. Their disagreements were one thing, but at heart, they were all soldiers of Great Xia and stood together on many matters.

The two guards were talkative. They explained the pier's and the Painted Pleasure Boat's ingenious designs in detail, along with amusing anecdotes from past emperors' visits. They were warm and entertaining, much like taxi drivers in Pan Long's previous life.

Before they knew it, noon had arrived. The guards' patrol ended, and they had to return to their barracks to rest. Pan Long and Han Feng said goodbye and went to sample Jade Gate City's classic dishes.

Unlike Dingfeng Town, Jade Gate City had a much richer and more varied dining scene. Here, one could eat not only the Northwest's traditional noodles but also dishes from the Central Plains and even the southeast.

One famous Jing Province dish, for instance, consisted of a bowl of alternating fatty and lean pork, topped with vegetables and seasonings, then steamed over water. It was a famous dish from Jing Province in the Southlands.

The dish was rich in oil and sugar, sweet, soft, and perfectly suited to Han Feng's tastes. He ate three portions in one sitting, his face shiny with grease and beaming with delight.

Pan Long was less interested in that dish. What caught his attention was the Yang Province-style Thousand-Cut Tofu Soup. Tofu and the other ingredients were diced, added to the pot in a particular order, then simmered into a great bowl of steaming, fragrant soup. Everything was cooked just right: soft without falling apart, each piece still distinct. Every spoonful held a colorful assortment, and every bite offered a wealth of flavors. It made him think of the glittering world south of the river.

I wonder what the lands south of the river look like in this world...

The meal was delicious, but it was expensive too. The two of them spent a full three taels of silver. Han Feng was stunned when the bill came. After confirming several times that it was three taels, not three mace, he kept complaining to Pan Long about how wasteful it had been.

"Two people could eat at the best restaurant in Dingfeng Town for less than two mace of silver. Food in Jade Gate City is way too expensive!"

He repeated himself five or six times.

Three taels of silver was certainly no small sum, but that was how it went. This world had nothing like the developed transport network of Pan Long's previous life, and many ingredients cost a fortune to ship. Paying that much to eat a generous meal of southern delicacies in the Northwest was hardly surprising.

Pan Long's father, Pan Lei, had once reminisced about his youthful travels through the martial world. He had told Pan Long about eating Gilt Fish Slices in Yang Province. The fish could only be found in the deep sea, and no more than two hours passed between the catch and the thinly sliced fish arriving at the table. It was so exquisitely fresh that Pan Lei still remembered it decades later.

The price was another reason it had stayed with him. A plate of fish slices on a gilt platter held no more than twenty pieces, yet cost one tael of gold.

Compared with that, what was this meal?

Pan Long tried to persuade Han Feng. The result was that Han Feng stopped fretting over the three taels of silver and grew curious about what Gilt Fish Slices tasted like instead.

"Brother Long, while we're out wandering the martial world, should we make a special trip to Yang Province? We could try those Gilt Fish Slices."

Pan Long gave him a blank look. "We've brought plenty of travel money, but Yang Province is a long way off. The journey alone will cost us a fair bit. By the time we arrive, we might have almost nothing left. Are you planning to eat and run?"

Han Feng wilted at once and sighed miserably. "Money is a hero's courage, and a single coin can bring a hero to his knees!"

Pan Long thought that if this fellow ever came to grief, it certainly would not be over a single coin. He would die of craving, or stuff himself to death!

After eating and drinking their fill, they naturally needed a walk to help digest it. Han Feng took Pan Long to several more of Jade Gate City's famous sights. There was the former Yumen Grand Governor's Office, from the days before the Northlands were opened up, when Yong Province was still the edge of the Nine Provinces. There was the Yumen Great Beacon Tower, where a single plume of wolf smoke was said to be visible for a thousand li around. And there was Blade Emperor Plain, where the "Blade Emperor" Di Yihai had once fought a duel with Atla, the "Lion of the Northern Desert" and Great Chanyu... Every sight had its own story.

Han Feng was enthralled by sights with stories behind them. At each one, he had to look back on the past and let out a heartfelt sigh. If he had not been so utterly lacking in literary talent that he could not even write a jingle, he probably would have composed a poem, set brush to paper, had it mounted, and hung it on his wall after their travels were over.

Pan Long was not making a wild guess. While they toured the sights, they saw people doing just that.

They were a mixed group of men and women in their early thirties, accompanied by a crowd of servants. At every stop, they held a discussion. Then the servants brought out brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones so they could write down their poems and prose, dry the pages, and put them away.

To Pan Long, the writing was honestly rather poor. The better pieces might have passed for doggerel, while the worse ones were no more than jingles. Yet their authors were full of enthusiasm and looked thoroughly pleased with themselves.

Curious, he went over and asked about it. He learned that the servants had actually been specially trained by the Poetry and Prose Guild. Their job was to assist these men and women of letters and record their inspired creations whenever and wherever they struck.

Inspired creations?

Pan Long felt goosebumps rise at those words.

The doggerel was one thing, but jingles counted as inspired creations too? Inspiration came awfully cheap, then!

Seeing the disapproval written all over his face, a junior manager from the Poetry and Prose Guild offered an explanation.

"In this day and age, fewer than one in a hundred wealthy people have the talent to write poetry or prose that will outlive them. But seven or eight in ten want to. Writing a few pieces in hopes of passing them down to posterity does no one harm. Great Xia even tolerates lines like 'If one day I become emperor.' Why shouldn't it tolerate these people writing a few pieces to leave behind? As long as they don't mind future generations laughing at them, what other problem is there?"

Pan Long nodded slightly. The man had a point.

Great Xia did not persecute people for their writing. It was not necessarily that the dynasty did not want to; it simply could not. Individual martial prowess ran rather high in this world. Masters of the martial world might not be able to storm the Imperial Capital and slaughter everyone in the palace, but killing a few officials was well within their ability. The Nine Provinces Grand Array was immensely powerful, but the court could hardly activate it over every little thing.

If a master killed a corrupt official, the Imperial Court could find some way to cover it up. But if an official loyal to the Imperial Court was killed over the persecution of a writer, and the Imperial Court could do nothing about the killer, its officials would lose heart.

The Great Xia Dynasty was practical about it. Since there was little it could do, it simply gave up on that front.

After all, a few insults could not cause it any real harm. With a thick enough skin, it could let them pass.

Fine, I admit I can't do anything about you. Curse me all you like. If you can curse me to death, I'll admit you've got skill.

So the literary world of Great Xia was teeming with rebels, and satirical poems and essays were as numerous as carp crossing a river. Even a man as uncultured as Han Feng could quote a few barbed lines while visiting the sights.

Compared with writing that practically shouted its rebellious intent, what did it matter if people of limited talent produced some shoddy work and asked the Poetry and Prose Guild to preserve it, or even print it?

At that thought, inspiration struck Pan Long. If he managed to settle that great matter passed down through his family but failed to claim the one and only throne, he could always enter the publishing trade and devote himself to compiling and printing rebellious poems.

After all, when it comes to rebellion and usurpation, I'm the professional...

Future of an alternate timeline: Centuries later, Pan Long was remembered as a great publisher. The Pan Publishing House's most famous products were Collected Rebellious Poems Through the Ages and Collected Jokes Through the Ages. Later generations quoted them constantly, and almost every scholar under heaven owned a copy...

(End of chapter)