"Gentlemen, those are my thoughts. If anything strikes you as unsuitable, or you think there is a better way to do something, please speak freely."
In late July, just after the autumn harvest, with the last traces of summer heat lingering in the South Garden, Langya Interior Minister Liu Cheng strained to produce a smile. "We are all Northern Migrants, and you are all my elders. There is no need to hold back."
Behind several tall tables before him, seven or eight men around Liu Rengong's age sat in high-backed scholars' chairs, exchanging glances. These were the so-called Refugee Commanders who had previously led the refugees here, and the so-called clan chiefs under the "clan chief-Protector-General" system.
Inspector of Postal Stations Liu Ye had invited them over. First, seated near the front row in the newly built square beside the junction of Jiangcheng Avenue and Jurong Avenue, they had watched a performance of The Peacock Flies Southeast amid a sea of people. Then Liu Rengong had brought them to the South Garden for a meal together. Now they had finally met Liu Cheng and heard another lengthy explanation of the policy and reasoning behind implementing gradual Tuduan. They knew that this was the crucial moment.
Yet after hearing his words, they looked at one another for a long time before the oldest among them, left with no choice, finally answered cautiously, "My lord, if you take action, we will naturally cooperate. How would we dare quibble with you?"
Liu Cheng knew perfectly well that this probably was not resentment showing through, but a sincere attempt to express obedience. They were simply being so cautious that it sounded instead like dissatisfaction swallowed under duress. But that hardly mattered. Even if they truly were dissatisfied, he could not change his strategy. He