The county office issued a public notice: the workshop was to construct city facilities.
Du Heng’s official workload was light this year, so he dove into planning with the master craftsmen, drafting blueprints for the new constructions. Once the designs were completed, the county quickly set the projects in motion.
Over the first few months of the year, the workshop teams worked tirelessly, hammering and sawing under Du Heng’s supervision. The pace was swift—projects initially slated for completion in July were already wrapping up by late May.
Du Heng thought the second half of the year might be leisurely, but an urgent official letter arrived overnight from the prefectural city.
“Keep the brooms ready. Even though these are latrines, they must be maintained clean. In a few days, once everything is ready, bring in those previously employed to maintain and clean them.”
Du Heng was tidying leftover construction debris when Jiang Qi rushed in, flustered: “Sir, an official letter!”
“Why the hurry? We’re at the latrines—take it easy!” Du Heng grabbed him to prevent him from crashing into the latrine trench.
Jiang Qi presented the letter with both hands. Du Heng frowned, wiping his hands as he took it, saying, “This could have waited until we returned to the office. No need to rush it here.”
“It was just delivered from the prefecture, sir. The messenger said it wasn’t urgent, but I wanted to make sure it reached you immediately.”
Du Heng opened the letter, scanning it briefly. His breath caught, and he closed it again.
“Sir, what is it?” Jiang Qi asked, surprised at Du Heng’s rare solemn expression. Others nearby instinctively held their breath.
“Return to the county office! All heads of departments from the front office, report to the Second Hall immediately. Jiang Qi, notify everyone to attend the meeting at once.”
Near noon, officials were just settling in with their tea, preparing for lunch, when the county magistrate strode in purposefully.
Jiang Qi hurriedly relayed orders through the departments, and the officials, startled, nearly spilled their tea.
“I was just about to enjoy a cup of tea. Surely the magistrate isn’t that angry?” one whispered.
“Was there a problem at the construction site? It shouldn’t be—sir has been overseeing it, and they’re finishing up,” another murmured as they rushed to the Second Hall, exchanging rumors.
“Everyone present?”
The Second Hall fell silent. After Jiang Qi called the roll, he reported back: “Sir, everyone except a few on field duty has arrived.”
Du Heng acknowledged, then addressed the assembly: “It’s almost lunch. Were this not urgent, I would not have delayed your meal. The letter just delivered from the prefecture informs that the emperor’s southern tour has been confirmed. Three routes have been set, and two include Qiuyang County as a stop. The prefect’s instructions are to prepare the county accordingly for His Majesty’s inspection.”
The moment those words were spoken, the hall erupted in uproar.
The officials in a small county town were nothing more than minor functionaries. The highest-ranking officials they had ever seen were provincial authorities during annual evaluations or the occasional inspection tour from the capital—and even then, not everyone had the chance to appear before them. Most dealings were handled by the county magistrate.
Now, the Emperor was to conduct a southern tour, and there was a real possibility he would pass through Qiuyang County. When that time came, the entire county would have to kneel in welcome all the way to the city gates.
If one could so much as glimpse the Son of Heaven’s face, let alone common townsfolk—even ordinary clerks could boast of it for the rest of their lives.
Though the official notice did not explicitly state that the Emperor would certainly pass through Qiuyang County, the county lay along the main route from the capital to Suzhou and Hangzhou. Unless His Majesty deliberately took a detour along some narrow side road, Qiuyang County was the most secure and direct route.
The weather near noon in late May was already somewhat stifling. With news like this, it was as though dry tinder had been set ablaze.
“If His Majesty passes through Qiuyang County, that will be the honor of the entire county! We must leave a good impression!”
“Indeed! In over a hundred years, Qiuyang County has never known such glory.”
“We must mobilize all the county runners and wash the streets at least three times. We cannot let people from the capital laugh at us.”
“And the county office needs repairs too. The walls are peeling, and the roof of the punishment chamber leaks. It is truly unsightly.”
The hall seemed to boil over. Everyone spoke at once, flushed with excitement, calculating how best to welcome the Emperor. Only moments ago they had felt their county was improving in every respect—but upon hearing that the Emperor might pass through, suddenly nothing seemed worthy.
Du Heng watched them argue heatedly for a while before striking the wooden block on the desk.
“Silence! Silence!”
“I know you are all excited. Though nothing is certain, if His Majesty may pass through Qiuyang County—even if only in transit—we must respond with twelvefold vigilance.”
“While there is still time, repair what needs repairing, improve what needs improving. Submit any proposals in writing before you leave the office today.”
“Yes, sir!”
The notice from above stated that the Emperor had set out on his southern tour in early May. The court had kept it low-key, making no grand public announcement across the realm. Only when His Majesty was nearing a region would word be sent that he would personally arrive.
This served two purposes: first, to avoid exposing the Emperor’s route too early and increasing danger; second, because the Emperor wished to see the true conditions of the people—not a meticulously staged “age of prosperity” prepared in advance.
Du Heng calculated the timeline. The Emperor would undoubtedly travel with a large entourage and would not rush to his destination. In truth, the southern tour’s objective was not merely Suzhou and Hangzhou, but every prefecture and county along the way.
From the capital to Qiuyang County, even at a brisk pace it would be late June; more likely, it would coincide with the county’s autumn harvest.
That meant they still had one or two months to prepare. Major projects were out of the question in such a short span. Achievements in governance were never accomplished overnight. Whether agriculture or construction, nothing substantial could be completed in mere weeks.
As the saying went, one who never burns incense cannot expect miracles by clutching at the Buddha’s feet at the last minute. Hasty efforts would have limited effect.
Yet although it was said the Emperor would merely pass through, the weight of such an inspection far exceeded a routine official evaluation.
An evaluating inspector, no matter how dissatisfied, could only record a note and report back to the capital. But the Emperor was the ruler of all under Heaven—he could dismiss or demote an official on the spot.
Moreover, the timing of the southern tour was delicate. It coincided with the year of the five-yearly major assessment of local officials. How could they not feel the pressure?
Du Heng thought that while it was too late to accomplish anything grand, simple preparations were certainly manageable.
Not merely to cope—but to demonstrate respect.
He first inspected the public facilities completed in the first half of the year, urging construction teams to hurry. Dilapidated houses, damaged roofs, crumbling sections of city wall—everything was repaired and patched.
These repairs would not only look better to superiors, but were necessary sooner or later. They were simply being done ahead of schedule.
Never before had the officials within the county office worked with such unity. Efficiency in every matter reached unprecedented heights.
Du Heng shortened the timeline and put the newly built public facilities into early use.
He dispatched clerks from the rites office to conduct daily public instruction and ordered patrol officers to conduct day-and-night inspections, fining anyone—man or beast—caught relieving themselves in public.
In less than half a month, the county transformed.
The stench of excrement and urine that once baked under the summer sun and drifted through the streets vanished. No more did one encounter someone squatting bare-bottomed in a dark alley at night. With this major nuisance resolved and buildings freshly repaired and whitewashed, Qiuyang County seemed reborn—so clean and orderly it was almost disorienting.
In early July, one night brought a storm.
The air had been oppressively heavy at dusk, the sky hanging low. Once darkness fully fell, faint thunder rumbled, then sudden heavy raindrops struck down, followed by flashing lightning and rolling thunder.
Summer storms were always more frightening than those of other seasons. Wind and rain combined as if capable of destroying everything.
The wind was fierce, rattling any door or window not tightly shut. Inside, the candle flame was abruptly snuffed out.
Cheng Yi had only just begun to feel drowsy when the candle went out. He jolted awake, sleep fleeing at once.
He was accustomed to leaving a lamp lit at night. Now the room was pitch dark, and he felt utterly without security.
He called out for Shui Qincai, but there was no answer. Perhaps, because of the rain, she had gone to check the doors and windows of the other rooms.
Climbing out from under the covers, Cheng Yi prepared to light the lamp himself—
Crack!
A deafening thunderclap exploded nearby. Terrified, he dove back beneath the covers.
The thunder grew louder with each strike. The black window would suddenly flare bright with lightning, only to plunge into darkness again. Such a stormy night was far too frightening.
Clutching the quilt, not daring to shout, he was at a loss when he suddenly heard a faint creak within the room.
The moment those words were spoken, the entire hall erupted.
Officials in a small county town were, at best, minor figures. The highest-ranking authorities they ever saw were provincial officials during annual evaluations or the occasional inspection tour from the capital—and even then, not everyone had the chance to appear before them. Most dealings were handled directly by the county magistrate.
Now they had learned that the Emperor’s southern tour might pass through Qiuyang County. If that happened, the entire county would kneel in welcome all the way to the city gates.
If they could so much as glimpse the Son of Heaven’s face, it would be something not only commoners but even ordinary officials could boast about for a lifetime.
Though the official dispatch did not explicitly state that the Emperor would certainly pass through Qiuyang County, the county lay on the main route from the capital to Suzhou and Hangzhou. Unless His Majesty chose to detour along a lesser side road, Qiuyang County was the safest and most direct passage.
It was already sweltering near midday at the end of May. Receiving such news only set people ablaze.
“If His Majesty passes through Qiuyang County, that is the honor of our entire county! We must leave a good impression!”
“Indeed! In over a hundred years, Qiuyang County has never enjoyed such glory.”
“We must mobilize all the yamen runners and wash the main streets at least three times. We cannot let the capital’s people laugh at us.”
“And the county office needs repairs as well. The plaster is peeling, and even the roof of the punishment chamber leaks. It is unsightly.”
The hall buzzed like a pot at full boil. Everyone was calculating how best to receive the Emperor. They had only just begun to feel their county was improving in every respect—but at the mere possibility of the Emperor’s passage, everything suddenly seemed unpresentable.
Watching the officials argue heatedly, Du Heng let them discuss for a moment before striking the wooden sounding block.
“Silence! Silence!”
“I understand your excitement. Although nothing is certain, His Majesty may pass through Qiuyang County. Even if he merely travels through, we must be fully prepared.”
“While we still have time, repair what needs repairing and put in order what needs putting in order. Submit any proposals in writing before you leave for the day.”
“Yes, sir!”
The higher authorities had reported that the Emperor departed in early May. The court had kept the matter low-profile, avoiding grand public announcements. Notice would only be given shortly before His Majesty’s arrival in a region. This both prevented premature exposure of his itinerary—which would increase risk—and ensured that the Emperor could observe genuine local conditions rather than a prearranged display of “prosperity.”
Du Heng calculated the timeline. The Emperor would travel with a large entourage and was in no rush to reach his destination. The southern tour’s true purpose was not merely Suzhou and Hangzhou, but every prefecture and county along the way.
At the earliest, he would reach Qiuyang County by late June; at the latest, during the autumn harvest.
That meant they had one or two months to prepare. There was no time for major undertakings. Political achievements were never forged in a day. Whether farming improvements or construction projects, nothing substantial could be accomplished in so short a span.
There was an old saying: if you do not burn incense regularly, clutching the Buddha’s feet at the last minute will not help much.
Still, though it was said the Emperor would merely pass through, the weight of such a visit far exceeded that of an official evaluation.
Even if an evaluating official disapproved of a local administrator, he could only record it and report back to the capital. But the Emperor—the ruler of all under Heaven—could dismiss or demote an official on the spot.
Moreover, the timing of the southern tour was delicate. It coincided with the year of the five-year major reassignment of local officials. How could they not feel the pressure?
Du Heng reasoned that while there was no time for grand achievements, simple preparations were feasible—not only to cope with the visit, but to show proper respect.
He first inspected the public works completed in the first half of the year. Construction teams were reassigned to repair dilapidated houses, patch broken roofs, and mend damaged sections of the city walls.
These repairs would not only look better to higher authorities; they were necessary sooner or later. It was merely advancing the schedule.
For the first time, the county administration worked in true unity. Efficiency reached an unprecedented height.
Du Heng compressed the timeline and put newly built public facilities into use ahead of schedule.
Clerks from the Rites Office were dispatched daily to give public lectures. County patrol officers enforced fines against anyone—man or beast—caught relieving themselves in the open. In less than half a month, the county had transformed.
The usual summer stench of waste baking under the sun vanished. At night, no one would stumble upon bare-bottomed figures squatting in dark alleys. With that major nuisance resolved and buildings freshly repaired and whitewashed, Qiuyang County felt entirely renewed—so clean and orderly it was almost disorienting.
In early July, a storm fell in the night.
The air had been heavy before dusk, the sky pressed low. After darkness fully settled, faint rumbles of thunder rolled across the heavens. Then came the sudden, urgent drumming of rain, followed by flashes of lightning and crashing thunder.
Summer tempests were always more terrifying than storms of any other season. Wind and rain together seemed capable of destroying everything.
The wind howled so fiercely that unlatched doors and windows banged loudly. A gust blew through the room and extinguished the candle.
Cheng Yi had only just begun to feel drowsy when the candle went out. He jerked awake, sleep fleeing at once.
He was used to leaving a lamp burning at night. Now the room was pitch-dark. He felt utterly unsafe.
He called for Water Spinach, but there was no answer—perhaps she had gone to check the doors and windows because of the storm.
Climbing out from under the covers, he was about to relight the lamp himself when a thunderclap exploded nearby with a deafening crash. Startled, he dove back under the quilt.
The thunder grew louder with each strike. The pitch-black window would suddenly flare bright, then plunge again into darkness. Such weather was terrifying.
Clutching the blanket, too afraid to shout, he did not know what to do when he heard a creak inside the room.
He could not tell whether the wind had blown open the door or the window.
Heart pounding, Cheng Yi carefully lowered the quilt and peeked out. He thought he saw a flicker of light enter through the doorway—but before he could see clearly, another gust snuffed it out.
Outside, the swaying branches cast shadows in the storm that looked like the gaping-mouthed monsters from his old nightmares. He was terrified.
Just as he was about to cry out for Father, someone suddenly leapt onto the bed.
“Dan Ce?”
Cheng Yi’s eyes widened. A moment ago he had been frightened; now, seeing a familiar face, all his fear vanished.
“Mm.”
“Why did you come over? The thunder is so loud outside. Aren’t you scared? And you still came out?”
Cheng Yi quickly lifted the quilt to cover Dan Ce. Having come along the corridor through the night wind, Dan Ce’s body was chilled.
“What would I be afraid of? I am a man. Men are not afraid of thunder.”
Dan Ce grinned and pinched Cheng Yi’s ear. “I knew you would wake up from the thunder, so I came to check on you.”
“Go back to sleep, Brother.”
Cheng Yi pressed his lips together. “Then when will you go back to your room?”
“After you fall asleep.”
Cheng Yi said nothing, rubbing his fingers together.
Seeing his brother’s lowered eyes, Dan Ce knew he was afraid to be alone, even in sleep.
“Fine. I will go back tomorrow morning.”
Cheng Yi immediately brightened and pinched Dan Ce’s ear in return. “All right, then.”
The wind and rain raged. Du Heng and Qin Xiaoman had the servants secure all doors and windows and inspect the estate’s drainage channels. The inner courtyard was in chaos for a time before peace was restored.
“Cheng Yi is afraid of thunder. I will check on him.”
After washing his hands, Du Heng headed to the child’s room, Qin Xiaoman following behind.
The room was quiet. A small warm-yellow lamp burned softly beneath its shade.
At the bedside, Du Heng noticed the neatly placed little shoes—and beside them, two other shoes lying far apart.
Lifting the bed curtain, he met Dan Ce’s bright black eyes.
Cheng Yi was already fast asleep, leaning against Dan Ce’s shoulder, small and obedient, breathing softly.
Du Heng lowered his voice. “Why are you still awake?”
“I came to keep Brother company.”
“If you are keeping him company, does that mean you are not sleeping? Close your eyes. Go to sleep.”
“Oh.”
Du Heng bent to tuck the quilt around the two boys. Cheng Yi’s bed was small, and so was the quilt.
He pulled it higher. “Do you need another blanket? What if you fall asleep and steal your brother’s covers? It is cool tonight after the rain.”
“No. I will not let Brother catch cold!”
Dan Ce wrapped his arms tightly around the sleeping Cheng Yi.
Watching the brothers, Du Heng shook his head helplessly. “Fine, fine. No extra blanket. Sleep well.”
“Got it!”
Du Heng smiled and rubbed their heads. He leaned in, intending to kiss them, but Dan Ce covered his mouth and pushed him away. “Father’s beard prickles! Do not kiss Dan Ce or Brother!”
Qin Xiaoman could not help laughing. Stepping forward, he said, “Then Little Father will kiss you. After that, you sleep.”
Dan Ce stopped protesting and allowed Little Father to kiss his cheek before the curtain was lowered.
The couple stepped outside.
Du Heng touched his mouth. “Does it really prick?”
Qin Xiaoman glanced at him, amused by the aggrieved look on the man rejected by his own son. “It is not too bad. You shaved just two days ago.”
Then he could not resist teasing, “But one cannot defy age. Hair grows faster as you get older.”
“That is impossible!”
Du Heng widened his eyes and grabbed Qin Xiaoman. “Why do not you try?”
“I will not. If others will not try, neither will I.”
“Do not be shy. Just try—”
Before he could finish, a servant’s voice sounded.
“Master, Yi Baihu has arrived.”
Du Heng and Qin Xiaoman both raised their brows. “Why is he here? So late? Where is he?”
“At the gatehouse.”
They went at once.
“Master, Sir.”
“You are already a Baihu. Why still call me Master?”
Seeing Yi Yan in full armor—likely having ridden through the rain, his clothes damp—Du Heng asked, “What is the matter that you came to the county office in such weather?”
“The General has received word. His Majesty has already entered Qiuyang County’s territory and should reach the city tomorrow. I came to deliver the message.”
Du Heng frowned. “Were we not to receive notice in advance? Why has no official courier come to the county office, even though he has already entered the territory?”
“The General said His Majesty had not intended to pass through Qiuyang County. However, summer rains made it difficult to detour along side roads, so he turned into the county instead. His Majesty will only pass through briefly and will not stay long. It is the autumn harvest season, and he does not wish to cause a great commotion or have the local authorities devote all their efforts to welcoming him at the expense of the harvest. Since the garrison headquarters is located here, notice was sent only to the military camp so the General could prepare. There is no need for all county officials to busy themselves excessively.”
“But tomorrow, when His Majesty passes through, county officials must still receive him.”
“Of course. That is proper etiquette. I understand.” Du Heng nodded. “Thank you for making the trip in the rain.”
“It is nothing.”
Having delivered the message, Yi Yan did not linger. “I will return to camp.”
After seeing him off, Du Heng let out a long breath. This had come far too suddenly.
The Emperor truly did not follow predictable patterns. Even traveling with such a large entourage, his movements remained uncertain.
There was no time to wait until morning. Du Heng immediately dispatched messengers to notify all principal officials of the county office, sending word ahead lest they be thrown into chaos the next day.
Through the wind and rain, once the county officials learned of the great event awaiting them the next day, not a single one slept soundly.
Summer dawn came early to begin with. Yet before the sky had even lightened, every official of the county yamen had already assembled.
After a brief meeting, daylight finally broke. Du Heng straightened his official robes and, together with the full administrative staff and the county’s local gentry and elders, proceeded to the city gates to welcome the Son of Heaven in passage.
Merchants and townspeople who received word early had already secured good vantage points along the restaurants and streets, waiting for a chance to behold the imperial countenance.
After the rain, the streets, rooftops, and bluestone paving looked freshly washed. If not for the unusual cleanliness, one might have thought no storm had fallen the night before.
Under everyone’s anxious anticipation, around the hour of Chen, the distant sounds of the imperial procession could finally be heard.
No one spoke, yet the same two words echoed silently in every heart: He has come.
In less than half a quarter hour, the vanguard generals and soldiers reached the city gates.
“His Majesty approaches! County officials kneel in welcome!”
All those assembled hurriedly dropped to their knees, kowtowing as they awaited the Emperor’s arrival.
Du Heng knelt with his forehead to the ground, able to see nothing but the rammed-earth road paved two years prior. He could still faintly smell yesterday’s rain in the soil. He could not help but feel sheepish—how was he supposed to “behold the imperial face” in this position?
He did not know how long he had knelt. The sounds of the procession seemed already at his ears. After the clamor of countless carriages and horses, silence fell.
He thought he heard someone say, “Your Majesty, we have arrived at Qiuyang County.”
“Your servant Du Heng, Magistrate of Qiuyang County, together with the county officials and local gentry, bows before Your Majesty! Long live the Emperor! Long live! Long live ten thousand years!”
Du Heng rose with the others, then performed another grand salute, his legs—already numb from kneeling—once more returning to the ground.
He dared not look around. One extra glance at the Emperor might earn him a spear thrust from an imperial guard leaping down from horseback. Facing the direction of the approaching procession, he finished his formal declaration in a clear voice and lowered himself again.
The vanguard troops stood in front; only farther ahead were the Emperor’s carriages and horses. Du Heng had not even seen whether the Emperor rode a horse or sat within a carriage before he found himself once more kneeling, face-to-face with the yellow earth.
“Qiuyang County. I seem to recall passing through here years ago, when I was still a prince, investigating the salt tax.”
The soldiers parted into two lines, revealing a man mounted on a black horse. He wore embroidered garments but not the bright imperial yellow.
After speaking, the man raised a hand. “Rise.”
Everyone stood, yet none dared breathe too loudly. Though the Emperor’s tone was neither harsh nor severe—indeed, even approachable—the majesty of the Son of Heaven pressing upon the four directions, combined with the immense formation and tens of thousands of troops, left sweat trickling down their backs.
Any thoughts of “beholding the imperial face” vanished. They only lamented that Magistrate Du’s shoulders were not broad enough to shield them all from view.
“Magistrate of Qiuyang County—Du Heng?”
Hearing his name called, Du Heng felt a slight tightening in his chest. Lowering his gaze respectfully, he stepped forward. “Your humble servant Du Heng greets Your Majesty.”
Only then did he properly glimpse the Emperor’s appearance. Beyond being heroic and handsome, there was nothing particularly extraordinary about him. Accompanying him on this journey was the Sixth Prince, born of the same mother. The resemblance between their brows and eyes was unmistakable.
The other mounted companions were unfamiliar faces. Du Heng recognized none of them, though he could surmise that their identities must be formidable—surely high-ranking figures at court.
“I recall that this county did not cultivate cotton in former years. Yet passing by just now, I saw fields upon fields of cotton, some already bursting open. It was quite pleasing to the eye.”
“Your Majesty has an excellent memory. Indeed, in earlier years the county did not grow cotton. Qiuyang County’s dry, sandy soil is well suited to its cultivation. Only two years ago did we introduce seeds from elsewhere.”
“And the harvest?”
“Reporting to Your Majesty, production has increased year by year. At present, it may already be transported by caravan to colder regions.”
The man on horseback raised his voice slightly. “Very good.”
No sooner had the Emperor spoken than someone nearby added, “Qiuyang County’s steady agricultural prosperity is a blessing to the people—and to the realm.”
Amid the exchange, Du Heng thought he heard two faint stomach growls. Yet he could not be certain whether he had imagined it—or whose stomach it might have been.
He dared not look about. Just as he could not freely look at the Emperor, neither could he casually examine the ministers. As a minor local official, he could not speak out of turn; his attention, however, had drifted in a peculiar direction.
The Emperor did not respond to the flattery. He merely said gravely, “Let us proceed into the city.”
As magistrate, Du Heng followed at a measured distance alongside the imperial procession. Once they entered the county, the town erupted.
The streets were already crowded with carriages, and commoners knelt in succession along both sides.
The cries of welcome surged like crashing waves.
The procession advanced at an exceptionally slow pace.
Not walking at the very front spared Du Heng much pressure. Surrounded by the procession and witnessing the fervor of the people—though he himself was not the object of their prostrations—he still felt a sense of shared glory. Even at the height of his own tenure had he never received such treatment.
It was no wonder some sought power and even usurped thrones to become Emperor.
To command instant obedience from a single call; to inspire awe without anger—only by standing near the Emperor could one truly feel it.
As he was musing, he suddenly noticed the eunuch attending the Emperor lean close and whisper something. It seemed he was advising the Emperor to return to the carriage—or something of the sort.
Though Du Heng stood fairly near, he dared not listen too closely or look too openly. The guards’ eyes were sharper than hawks.
“Magistrate Du, how much longer until we reach the county office?”
A figure suddenly drew near. A sharp, thin voice fell into his ear.
“At a normal pace, we would arrive in a quarter hour. At the present slow advance, perhaps half again as long.”
Du Heng was puzzled. Had it not been said the Emperor would merely pass through without stopping? Why ask about the distance to the yamen?
His mind instantly reviewed the state of the county office. Was everything tidy? Had it been properly arranged that morning? Just as anxiety began to rise, he heard the voice again:
“The night was cold. His Majesty feels somewhat unwell. Is there a large residence nearby?”
Understanding dawned on Du Heng at once. Leaning slightly closer, he whispered a few words in the eunuch’s ear.
A flicker of delight crossed the eunuch’s face. He moved unhurriedly back toward the Emperor.
Moments later, Du Heng caught the eunuch’s signaling glance.
Du Heng stepped forward and bowed. “Your Majesty, Qiuyang County’s county academy lies just ahead. Would you care to take a look?”
“Education is the foundation of prosperity. Let us go and see.”
Visiting the academy was not the true objective. Just a few steps down the same street stood the newly built public latrine. Seeing something novel, the Emperor would surely ask about it—at which point it would be perfectly natural to take a look.
And so the assembled officials and townspeople watched as the Emperor dismounted and, under the protection of the Imperial Guards, entered the latrine. Moments later, he emerged looking refreshed.
The common folk were somewhat stunned. Then came murmurs of admiration—His Majesty was truly close to the people, personally inspecting even the latrine.
“To separate such facilities from residential lanes is a measure that benefits the people. It should be promoted in all regions.”
As he stepped out, Yan Chengqi lifted his gaze to examine the well-constructed structure and said to those accompanying him, “Record this carefully. Gather the best practices from various places. Upon returning to the capital, we shall consolidate them into formal regulations.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
While drying his hands, Yan Chengqi glanced toward the young magistrate standing not far off. “Du Heng. I have heard your name before. When Yan Chengjue returned to the capital after inspecting troop provisions, he praised how Qiuyang County greatly improved under your tenure. Now that I see it in person, it indeed has its merits.”
“Continue to serve well. The court needs young men like you—practical and diligent.”
Du Heng gave a somewhat awkward smile. Surely “its merits” did not refer to relocating the latrine outdoors and separating it from inner quarters. If word spread in court, would he forever be known as that magistrate who built latrines?
He cleared his throat. This form of recognition was… not exactly something to lift one’s head high about.
“Many thanks, Your Majesty. Your humble servant will devote himself wholeheartedly to serving the state, the sovereign, and the people.”
The Emperor gave his shoulder a light pat.
By the time the imperial procession departed the city, it was nearly noon. This small Qiuyang County had somehow occupied Yan Chengjue for more than an hour.
Had the county not been too small—and the southern inspection force too numerous to station comfortably—the Emperor might well have stayed another day or two.
Only when the very tail of the procession vanished down the official road did the county officials and gentry realize they were drenched in sweat.
Backs that had been bowed all morning finally straightened; their aching waists protested the strain.
Watching the capital officials, one could see that despite their immense authority, even the Emperor’s body was not spared fatigue. The rituals and formalities were indeed excessively strict.
Being far from the throne had its advantages.
Du Heng reflected that though the Emperor commanded instant obedience, he too faced difficulties.
For instance, catching a chill in the night and suffering an upset stomach midway through the journey—yet, before the people, he could neither simply retreat to his carriage nor gallop straight to the county office for relief. He had to circle about, preserve appearances, and maintain dignity.
Even the most urgent bodily needs could not be freely attended to. It was enough to make one sigh.
“Did you manage to behold the imperial face?”
After dismissing the officials who had been strung tight all morning, Du Heng made his way to the restaurant where he had arranged to meet Qin Xiaoman.
“From the upper floor the view was wide. You could see clearly at a glance. But the soldiers were watching closely—those eyes were like blades. No one dared stare too long.”
Du Heng picked up a bowl of tea and drained it in one gulp. “It was easier for you here. Walking within the procession, I felt terribly constrained, afraid to make any unnecessary move.”
Qin Xiaoman fanned him with a palm-leaf fan. “Under such imposing presence, who would dare stand out? As long as nothing went wrong and everything passed smoothly, that was the best performance.”
Du Heng squeezed his hand in agreement. “Now we can truly wait in peace for the grand evaluation.”