Daming: I can’t kill such a greedy prince-in-law?

As he was speaking, a team of newsboys ran past the dock, waving the newly published "Ministry of Industry Railway Special Issue": "Hurry up and read the latest news! The location of Nanjing Station has been determined! Attached is a detailed route map!"

The newsboy was instantly surrounded by the crowd and shouted anxiously: "Three cents a copy! First come, first served!" The porters actually took out money, carefully smoothed the newspapers with their rough hands, pointed at the schematic diagram on it and started a heated discussion.

On the river, newspapers were also being passed between the masts of cargo ships. The ship captains were thinking: "When the railway is completed, our ships will run on the branch river and still make money!"

As the sun sets, Aunt Zhang from the slums in the north of the city is pasting newspapers on the wall. She is illiterate, but she carefully pasted the newspaper with a photo of railway workers on the head of her bed. Her little grandson lies in bed, pointing at the photo and asking, "Grandma, what are these uncles doing?"

"They are bringing us good fortune." Aunt Zhang stroked the newspaper. "When the train is connected, it will be convenient for your father to come back from the mine." She suddenly remembered something and took out a cloth bag from under the kang mat. Inside it were neatly stacked railway special reports from the past three months.

On the 23rd day of the twelfth lunar month, the smoke from the New Year's Eve, wrapped in the sweet aroma of sesame candy, floated over the Beijing-Pingcheng Railway construction site.

Outside the work shed in Chuzhou, cook Lao Chen swung an iron spoon and knocked on an upside-down iron pot: "Get the New Year's goods!"

The workers gathered around and saw the ground piled with New Year gifts from the court - two pounds of pork belly, a bag of kelp from Liaodong, half a pound of sesame candy, and three hundred coins of "hard work money" wrapped in red paper for each person.

"Wow, this meat is so thick that you can see your reflection in it!" Stonemason Zhao Dachui picked up his portion and grinned, "When I go home this year, I must let my wife see what 'official meat' is!"

A long line formed in front of the temporary desk set up by the clerk. The workers, clutching their newly-paid wages, waited for letters to be written for them. Liu Ergou, a young worker, blushed and said, "Tell my mother that we will take the train back next year! I heard that it can travel 80 miles in an hour!" This caused everyone to laugh.

In a corner of the construction site, several workers from Hebei Province were carving a small wooden horse out of leftover sleeper scraps. "It's a New Year's gift for my kid," said old carpenter Zhang Dequan, polishing the horse's mane with narrowed eyes. "When the road is open, I'll take him to the train station to ride a real horse to see the wonder!"

The shops on both sides of the Qinhuai River had already hung up red lanterns, and banners with the words "Celebrating the completion of the railway" and colorful banners with the words "Welcome the New Year" complemented each other. Wang Shoucai, the owner of the silk shop, read to his shop assistants from the Commercial Daily: "'The court expects the first train to run in March next year! This means that the train will start running in a few months!"

The East City Market was ten times more lively than in previous years. Train pictures became the new favorite on the stalls selling New Year pictures, with vendors shouting, "Buy a picture of 'Iron Dragon Welcoming the Spring', and all roads will be clear in the coming year!" The paper horse craftsmen temporarily changed their profession and made train models out of bamboo strips, which were sold out in the blink of an eye.

In the Ministry of Rites, clerks were busy stuffing "railway merit certificates" into red envelopes. Director Zhou said, "Any craftsman who participated in the road construction can exchange this certificate for five catties of flour!" Suddenly, a post horse came galloping with an urgent document - the Ministry of Works proposed to open the completed Nanjing platform during the New Year holidays for the people to visit.

A new look inside the Imperial Palace
On the twenty-eighth day of the twelfth lunar month, ten iron pots over ten feet long were placed in front of the palace. The head chef of the imperial kitchen announced in a shrill voice: "The emperor has granted all officials the 'railway reunion pot'!" The pots were stewed with venison shipped from Liaodong by rail, mixed with frozen mushrooms from outside the Great Wall, and the aroma was fragrant.

The officials of the six ministries also changed their attitude. The vice minister of the Ministry of Revenue said to everyone: "When the railway is opened, I will take a special official train to inspect the grain transport!" Even the most conservative old scholar in the Ministry of Rites secretly asked his servants to buy a model train, saying that he wanted to "enlighten his grandson to recognize new things."

As night fell, thousands of lanterns suddenly lit up beside the tracks of the test section of Nanjing Station. Officials from the Ministry of Works led the people to walk over the sleepers covered with red carpets, and children excitedly touched the cold rails. An old man selling candied melons set up a stall by the platform and said with a smile: "The feng shui here is good, and I, an old man, want to get some of the Iron Dragon's good luck!"

In the villages along the railway, people set up incense tables in the direction of the railway. A white-haired old man and his family kowtowed: "Please pray to the iron dragon for good weather and good harvests in the coming year!" In the railway shed, the workers who stayed behind were making dumplings around the stove. Someone suddenly laughed and said: "When we finish the repair, this train will be ready faster than dumplings!"

On the 28th day of the twelfth lunar month, the streets and alleys east of Nanjing where the Huaixi nobles lived should have been decorated with lights and colors, but this year they seemed particularly desolate.

The coldness in front of the vermilion lacquered gate
In front of the Wuding Marquis's mansion, the housekeeper rubbed his hands and exhaled white air, looking eagerly at the street corner. In previous years, at this time, carriages and horses carrying gifts would have lined up at the end of the alley, but today, apart from a few old men selling charcoal passing by, no one came to the door.

"Master, three more visiting cards have been returned." The servant lowered his head, holding a stack of unopened red cards. Wuding Hou Guo Ying had a gloomy face, grabbed the cards and slammed them on the table: "What a fickle world! When I followed Taizu to fight in Poyang Lake, these people were still wearing open-crotch pants!"

In the ancestral hall in the backyard, the Guo family members knelt silently to offer sacrifices to their ancestors. The three animals on the altar were half as many as in previous years, and even the candles were replaced with ordinary red candles, and the ambergris bestowed by the emperor in previous years was no longer seen.

The eldest grandson Guo Sheng stole a glance at his grandfather's sullen face and whispered, "I heard that the Xu family even cancelled the clan banquet this year..."

In the Linhuai Marquis's mansion, Li Jinglong sat alone in the flower hall, the food and wine on the table in front of him had already gone cold. He raised his glass and made a false toast to the air: "My colleagues, I will drink first as a sign of respect." He tilted his head back and drank the spicy wine, but he choked and started to cough.

The housekeeper came in quietly: "My Lord, the third son of the Chang family sent someone to tell him that he has caught a cold..."

"Bullshit!" Li Jinglong suddenly jumped up and overturned the table, and the porcelain plates shattered all over the floor. "The other day I saw him drinking wine in Zuixianlou!" After shouting, he sat down dejectedly, staring at the "Battle of Poyang Lake" on the wall in a daze. The high-spirited young general in the painting was completely different from the middle-aged man with gray hair in the mirror.

On the 30th day of the twelfth lunar month, snowflakes fell on the green tiles of the Duke of Liang's mansion. The icicles under the eaves hung like knives, making slight crisp sounds in the wind.

The stone lions in front of the mansion were already covered with snow, and there were no footprints on the steps that had not been swept. At this time of year in previous years, Lan Yu's personal soldiers, former subordinates, students and former officials would have crowded the front yard, toasting, giving gifts, and asking for favors. But now, the huge Duke's Mansion was as deserted as a tomb, with only the old housekeeper hunched over and lighting a solitary lamp in the corridor.

Lan Yu sat by the charcoal basin in the side hall, with a pot of liquor and a plate of cold braised beef. He did not slam the table and curse like he used to, nor did he smash the cups and bowls. He just poured the wine silently and drank one cup after another.

The crackling of the charcoal fire made half of his face red, while the other half was hidden in the shadows. His beard was already gray, and the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes were as deep as knife cuts, but his eyes were sharper than when he was young - but he no longer had the arrogance of the past, only a kind of almost cold sobriety.

The old butler pushed the door open cautiously and whispered, "Duke, the kitchen asked...are we still preparing the New Year's Eve dinner as usual?"

Lan Yu didn't raise his head, just stared at the wine glass, and sneered after a while: "Old rules? A banquet for 300 people? How many people are left in the mansion now? How many people will come to my Liangguo Mansion for dinner?"

The housekeeper didn't dare to answer. Ever since Lan Yu was stripped of his title and dismissed from his post, most of the guards in the mansion had been transferred away, the staff had all been dispersed, and even half of the cooks had left. Now, in the huge Duke's mansion, except for a few old servants who had followed Lan Yu for decades, almost no one was willing to stay.

"Just make something." Lan Yu waved her hand, "Stew a pot of mutton, steam a fish, and heat a pot of wine."

Just as the butler was about to leave, Lan Yu suddenly called him back, "Old Zhao."

"Does the Duke have any other instructions?"

"Prepare a banquet for three hundred people. If no living people come, then give it to my dead brothers and adopted sons!"

"Go!"

"Yes, yes, I'll do it right away!"

Outside the window, there were faint sounds of firecrackers, children playing, and finger-guessing games at a banquet. Lan Yu listened and suddenly remembered this day last year - he was still in the army tent, drinking with his generals. When he was drunk, he slammed the table and shouted, "A real man should hold a three-foot sword and accomplish unprecedented feats." The soldiers in the tent responded in unison, shaking the roof tiles.

And now, he didn't even have anyone to drink with. He reached out and touched his waist - where his sword should have been hanging, but now it was empty. When the emperor dismissed him, he also took back his seal and the sword bestowed by the emperor.

"Heh..." Lan Yu sneered and drank another glass of wine.

If it were in the past, Lan Yu would have been furious. He would have kicked over the table, scolded his ungrateful colleagues, or even rushed into the palace with a sword in hand to ask for an explanation. But now, he just sat there quietly, even his breathing was terrifyingly steady.

——Because he finally saw many things clearly.

He saw clearly that those "brothers" who once served him loyally now avoided him like the plague; he saw clearly that the power he once thought was unbreakable was actually something that could be taken away by the emperor with just a word; he saw clearly that after half a lifetime of fighting, he was finally accused of being "arrogant and domineering".

What made him most sober was that he discovered that he did not hate Zhu Yuanzhang.

Yes, no hate.

If it were a few years ago, he would have gnashed his teeth and cursed the emperor for "hiding the bow after the bird is killed". But now, he just thought coldly: If it were me, I would probably do the same.

A military general whose achievements are so great that he threatens the emperor, a powerful official who forms cliques for personal gain, a madman who dares to contradict even the emperor - which emperor can tolerate such a person?

"Ha..." Lan Yu suddenly chuckled, shook his head, and poured himself another glass of wine.

"Ouyang Lun!"

When Lan Yu thought of these three words, his face turned grim. "If it weren't for you, Ouyang Lun, how could I, Lan Yu, end up like this!"

"God, since you let me, Lan Yu, rise, why did you arrange for Ouyang Lun to appear?"

Lan Yu was not satisfied with drinking from the cup, so he just picked up the jug and drank.

Just when he thought that no one would come to visit on New Year's Eve, there was a knock on the door.

The old butler came running over: "My Lord, someone wants to see you!"

Lan Yu frowned: "Who?"

"It's... Young Master Feng from the Song Mansion."

Lan Yu was startled. Feng Sheng's son? The Feng family was now favored by the emperor, so why would they come to see him, a "criminal minister" at this time?
“Let him in.”

A moment later, a young man wearing fox fur came walking on the snow, holding two jars of wine in his hands.

"Junior Feng Zhong, wishing you a happy new year to Duke Liang." The young man bowed respectfully and then said with a smile, "My father said that it was freezing cold and he was worried that you would not enjoy drinking alone, so he asked me to send you two jars of Shaodaozi from Liaodong."

Lan Yu stared at the two jars of wine and suddenly laughed: "Your father is really brave. He dares to send me something at this time?"

Feng Zhong said calmly: "My father said that the friendship between brothers is not in the court, but on the battlefield."

Lan Yu was silent for a long time, and finally reached out to take the wine jar, broke the mud seal, and raised his head to take a sip. The strong liquor went down his throat, burning his eyes.

"Go back and tell your father," he whispered, "Lan Yu has made a note of it."

Feng Zhong bowed and said goodbye, and his figure quickly disappeared into the snowy night.

Lan Yu stood under the corridor, looking at the falling snow, and suddenly felt that this year didn't seem so cold.

In the warm room of Taile Palace, the ground heater was burning brightly. Zhu Yuanzhang was reclining on the soft couch, holding a cup of hot ginseng tea in his hand, with a rare smile on his face.

Outside the window, the snow fell silently on the glazed tiles, making the hall exceptionally bright. The old eunuch Wang Zhong added charcoal lightly and stole a glance at the face of the retired emperor - since the railway project started, the old emperor, who always had a gloomy face, had relaxed his brows day by day.

The dragon is very pleased
Zhu Yuanzhang put down his teacup and picked up the latest issue of the Ming People's Daily from the desk, which clearly contained the Ministry of Industry's victory report:
"The Xuzhou section of the Beijing-Pinggu Railway was opened ahead of schedule! Thirty thousand migrant workers worked day and night to ensure that it would be open to traffic in March!"

There is also an illustration attached to it: ragged workers gathered beside the railway tracks, all of them smiling so hard that their teeth are exposed.

"Good!" Zhu Yuanzhang slapped his thigh, his eyes gleaming, "Ouyang Lun, this kid, is really good!"

He recalled the dispute in the court two years ago - when Ouyang Lun proposed to build a railway with the whole country's strength, how many old officials jumped out to oppose it? The scolding of "waste of money and manpower" and "extraordinary tricks" is still ringing in his ears. But what about now? Those sour Confucian scholars who shouted "the laws of our ancestors cannot be changed" probably even bought the model trains back home secretly, right?
The old eunuch handed over a secret letter at the right time: "Your Majesty, it has just been sent from Yingtian Prefecture."

Zhu Yuanzhang unfolded it and saw that it was a summary of the public opinion of the Jinyiwei:
Merchants along the Qinhuai River spontaneously hang colorful banners to celebrate the railway

Children from the slums imitate the train game using bamboo poles as tracks and wooden boxes as carriages

Even the most stubborn old scholars of Donglin Academy are discussing "the connection between trains and Zhouyi"

"Hahaha!" Zhu Yuanzhang suddenly laughed out loud, startling the sparrows under the eaves and making them fly up. "The people's hearts can be used! This is the Ming Dynasty I want!"

The idea of ​​incognito
He stood up and walked to the window, looking at the fire in the distance at the construction site that was burning all night. There was a faint sound of horns, which was even more pleasant than the elegant music in the palace.

"Go," Zhu Yuanzhang suddenly turned around, "call Ouyang Lun." (End of this chapter)