Chaos of Ming 1628

Dusk was falling.

Sun Qing stepped outside and watched as the streetlights came on.

The courier followed closely behind, his eyes fixed on Sun Qing. He was supposedly sent to fetch someone, but he was really just there to keep watch.

Sun Qing didn't bother with it; he should have been prepared for this from the moment he was detained in Jiaohe.

How easy is it to impersonate the Sun family?

Although it was getting late, the area outside the post station was bustling with activity.

A hoarse voice suddenly rose in pitch: "Speaking of Grandpa Yue, who killed Little Liang Wang with his spear and caused a great disturbance at the martial arts examination..."

An old man, holding a gavel, stood in the crowd, his clothes tattered, his hair white and disheveled, gesturing with one hand and speaking with spittle flying everywhere.

At the height of his enthusiasm, he tilted his head back and gulped down a mouthful of wine, his eyes brightening: "Eight thousand years old, a mud horse crossing the river; Grandpa Yue, eight hundred men breaking through ten thousand at Qinglong Mountain..."

During the hundred days of national mourning, operas and banquets were forbidden, and weddings were to be simplified. The people were already deeply troubled, yet had no way to express their suffering. At this moment, a reckless storyteller appeared, and everyone gathered around, hoping for some entertainment.

The old man spoke with great enthusiasm, drawing cheers from the crowd.

Originally, they were secretly pleased, but then a sigh seemed out of place, and someone sneered, "Well said."

"Which official these days can compare to even a fraction of Grandpa Yue?"

"The Eastern Depot wields absolute power, just like that Sun Chengzong guy, wasn't he just someone who was pulled out of prison and sent home to farm?"

It's not that we disrespect the eunuch, but the eunuch faction is too powerful, and the people have lost their backbone, so they are angry at the eunuch's inaction!

It was just a grumble, and he said it without hesitation. But the old storyteller's smile froze, and he suddenly jumped off the octagonal table, lunging at the speaker.

The thin, bony arm swung out and slapped the man across the face with a "smack".

The man cried out in surprise, reached out and pushed, then staggered and fell to the ground.

The man kicked him again, and the storyteller rolled to Sun Qing's feet.

Enraged, the man who had been beaten rolled up his sleeves and walked away cursing, "Grandpa, what business is it of yours, old man, with Sun Chengzong?"

"You dare hit your grandpa!"

"What? Sun Chengzong?" The storyteller rolled his eyes, scratched his head, and chuckled, "I thought you were talking about Sun Wukong!"

Such crazy talk immediately caused everyone to burst into laughter.

The person who was beaten was not satisfied and called over three or five friends to surround him, and it looked like fists and feet were about to fall.

This matter has nothing to do with Sun Qingquan, and given the current situation, it's even more inappropriate to cause trouble. However, the courier behind him is watching closely, and since it concerns Sun Chengzong, if he doesn't react, wouldn't he be full of flaws?

If they were to engage in a fight, it would be even more inappropriate. The scions of prominent families belonged to the gentry class, and were subject to stricter constraints from the court's etiquette and laws. Fighting in public would damage the reputation of officials and gentry, and the government could impeach their fathers and grandfathers, impose fines, and demote them.

Although the governor lived in seclusion in Gaoyang and held no official position, his family's legacy remained strong and unshaken.

Such a shameful and immoral act, once it occurs, will not only result in punishment of the ancestral hall, but in serious cases, the person will be removed from the family genealogy.

Taking action undoubtedly attracted the attention of the Sun clan members from Gaoyang, who came to investigate.

If we don't take action, Magistrate Zhou Ning and the Imperial Guards will surely become suspicious.

Sun Qing took a step forward unhurriedly, standing precisely between the storyteller and the man being beaten.

"Stop!" Sun Qing shouted.

The men stopped what they were doing and stared at Sun Qing, who had suddenly cut in. Seeing that he was dressed plainly but had an imposing aura, and that he had followers behind him, they did not dare to make a move.

Sun Qing stood tall and calmly instructed the person behind him: "You, come here."

The courier was taken aback, clearly not expecting him to give such a direct order.

This man was personally delivered by Magistrate Zhou, and the Commander-in-Chief also came to see him, even instructing him to stay close by. He was truly a special person.

He dared not disobey Sun Qing, and walked up to him with a fawning smile.

Those men showed no fear upon seeing this. It makes sense, though; although post station workers belonged to the government, they were still considered lowly laborers, their status even lower than that of ordinary farmers.

Commoners had no right to stay at post stations. Those who could stay at post stations and be served by postmen must have been of extraordinary status.

Those men, looking menacing, felt uncomfortable in front of Sun Qing and stiffened their necks, asking, "Who are you? How dare you meddle in my business!"

Sun Qing did not answer, but only glanced at the courier: "Strike."

The post station clerk's status was only slightly better than that of a displaced person. He was usually subjected to countless scornful looks, so how could he let this opportunity pass by? He stepped forward and began to slap his palms, striking with both hands.

"You..." The man who had been hit covered his face, both shocked and furious: "Who the hell are you, daring to hit me?"

"Gaoyang, Sun family."

His voice was calm and indifferent, yet it carried a chilling aura: "Grand Ancestor Sun Chengzong."

He paused, a faint smile playing on his lips: "You lot dare to mention his name?"

No one dared to utter a sound.

Even though Sun Chengzong was retired at home, he was a veteran of four dynasties and had countless disciples. Who would dare to disrespect him?

Sun Qing glanced at the old storyteller, then warned the group: "It is the father's fault if he does not raise his children properly. Since no one else is going to raise them, I will take over for now."

"roll!"

After uttering the last word, Sun Qing turned away indifferently, intending to return to the post station.

"A member of the Sun family?" the storyteller murmured, his brow furrowing.

Just as Sun Qing stepped across the threshold, he suddenly stepped forward, following closely behind like a rogue: "Young Master Sun is kind-hearted, may this old man ask you for a bite to eat?"

Sun Qing did not stop walking.

At critical junctures, it is not advisable to have too many interactions with others.

Moreover, Gaoyang belonged to Baoding Prefecture, which, like Hejian Prefecture, was under the jurisdiction of Beizhili. Although official history never explicitly names any Hejian Prefecture official as a student of Sun Qing, Sun Qing would not overlook the fact that Sun Chengzong frequently taught in the Hejian and Baoding areas in his early years.

After Sun Chengzong became governor of Liaodong during the Tianqi era, many of his students served in Hejian Prefecture.

Now he's at the Jiaohe Post Station, watched closely by eunuchs both inside and out, making it difficult for Sun's disciples to approach him. They can't proactively expose his identity.

If they remain trapped under the control of the Wei faction, who knows what those wolves and tigers will plan, and their fate is uncertain.

It's just a bite to eat; as long as Zhou Ji is wary of the Sun family, it's nothing.

It's just that I don't want to cause any more trouble.

Sun Qing flicked his sleeves and strode forward.

"Young Master Sun," the storyteller, still grinning obsequiously, hadn't left, "I'm also an old friend of Master Sun's."

"Ten days ago, after a long and arduous journey, I almost starved to death. I collapsed under the archway in a daze. I thought I was going to die for sure, but unexpectedly, I got a bite to eat."

"The gentleman was resting under the locust tree by the gate when he saw me on the verge of death and came to my rescue."

"I wonder if I'll have this good fortune again today."

Sun Qing's nerves tensed instantly.

This man is eccentric and seemingly crazy, yet his words are full of traps. There are countless places in Gaoyang with memorial archways, but few have both an archway in front of their government office and an ancient locust tree.

Fortunately, Sun Qing enjoyed visiting the former residences of famous people, and now only a stone lion and an old stone offering table remain of Sun Chengzong's former residence.

This storyteller was no ordinary person, and Sun Qing dared not be negligent.

In his early years, Sun Chengzong received an imperial memorial archway, but it was demolished when he was framed by Wei Zhongxian. There is also a century-old locust tree next to it. This is the only one of its kind in Gaoyang, and passersby can determine the entrance to Sun Family Street just by looking at it.

Sun Qing sensed something was wrong. Unable to immediately determine the man's identity, he flicked his sleeve and glared at him angrily: "You shameless old man! The good deed they're talking about at the factory—besides the carved stone base, what kind of archway is it?!"

"A conman dares to impersonate the founding emperor."

Sun Qing was furious.

The old storyteller hurriedly stepped forward and bowed, saying, "How dare I?"

"I must have remembered it wrong, it should be 'Ruins Workshop'."

"I am?" Sun Qing murmured softly, stopping in her tracks and turning back to look at him.

Street storytellers know nothing of etiquette; only scholars and gentlemen humbly refer to themselves as "this humble one."

The origins lie in the hierarchical system of the Qin Dynasty, it matured during the Song and Yuan Dynasties, and by the Ming and Qing Dynasties it had become the vernacular language of literati.

This person is by no means a mere street performer.

Seeing Sun Qing's strange expression, the old storyteller's face changed, and he quickly covered his mouth and chuckled foolishly, "How could this crazy old man dare to associate himself with him?"

"I'm hungry, I'm going to find something to eat."

The storyteller finished and prepared to leave.

Sun Qing's eyes were sharp, and the corners of his mouth turned up. He said softly, "I'm also quite bored. Come with me. If you can talk things out well, you'll have a meal to eat."