Starting from 1618 of the Ming Dynasty

Chapter 5 The Censor's Passage

The cold wind howled, and the fire in the dilapidated temple had long since gone out.

Fan Fu huddled in the haystack, his teeth chattering from the cold. Zhao Changying remained silent, but due to the excruciating pain and hypothermia, his body was convulsing uncontrollably, and his consciousness was beginning to fade.

"Squeak—"

Two dilapidated temple doors were pushed open, and a figure rushed in, swept by the wind and snow.

"Brother?!" Zhao Changying suddenly opened his eyes and instinctively reached for the wood-chopping knife beside him.

"it's me."

Lu Yan closed the door behind him and shielded himself from the wind with his body. He shook off the snow from his clothes, walked quickly to the offering table, and untied the heavy package.

"Splash!"

The package was opened, revealing something that made their eyes light up – two roast chickens wrapped in oil paper, two jars of strong liquor, and several small blue-and-white porcelain medicine bottles.

"Eat. Drink."

Without wasting words, Lu Yan directly broke the mud seal on a jar of wine, took a sip, and then handed it to Zhao Changying, saying, "This is the best Fenjiu. It can dispel cold and numb the pain."

Zhao Changying took the wine jar, tilted his head back and gulped it down. The spicy wine burned down his throat, making him finally feel alive in the ice-cold dilapidated temple.

By the moonlight, Lu Yan picked up the medicine bottle, which was "Safflower Traumatic Injury Oil," a special product supplied by Shanxi merchants.

"Bear with it."

He tore off the strip of cloth from Zhao Changying's arm, poured the medicated oil into his palm, rubbed it to warm it, and then pressed it hard onto the swollen and purplish wound.

"Hiss—!!" Zhao Changying was in so much pain that his veins bulged all over his body. He bit down on the wooden stick he had just used, but he didn't utter a sound.

After treating their injuries, the three shared the two roast chickens. With their stomachs full and the effects of the alcohol kicking in, the previously despairing atmosphere finally dissipated somewhat.

"Master, did you... borrow the money?" Fan Fu asked cautiously, his mouth full of grease.

Lu Yan took out two loose silver ingots from his pocket and tossed them to Fan Fu: "This is fifty taels for travel expenses. The rest is in the bank."

Fan Fu held the silver, so moved he almost cried. On this critical night, these fifty taels were the toll for his life.

"Listen up, everyone."

Lu Yan wiped the oil stains off his hands, his expression returning to its usual calm, calculating demeanor.

"Today is the first day. The definite news from Fan Yongdou's side is that the entourage of Imperial Censor Zuo Guangdou got stuck in Ningyang and will not be able to enter Ziyang City until the day after tomorrow—that is, at 9:00 AM on the 13th day of the first lunar month."

"The day after tomorrow?" Fan Fu exclaimed in surprise. "What are we going to do in the next two days? Fan Renfu will definitely be searching the whole city for us!"

"This is what happens when you're right under someone's nose." Lu Yan pointed to the ground beneath his feet. "This dilapidated temple is only frequented by beggars and stray dogs in the middle of the day, far from the mass grave. The servants of the Fan family are pampered; they'll only give this godforsaken place a cursory glance."

Lu Yan looked at Zhao Changying: "Changying, these two days you just focus on recovering your injuries and getting your strength back to its peak. Fan Fu, you'll be in charge of taking turns on guard duty."

"And the day after tomorrow?" Zhao Changying asked.

"The day after tomorrow morning, we'll go to the back alley of the Shanxi Merchants' Guild Hall." A glint of shrewdness flashed in Lu Yan's eyes. "I've made an appointment with Manager Fan. That morning, he'll have someone leave a coal truck there. That's our only chance to break through the blockade and get close to the Imperial Censor's procession."

……

Two days passed in agony.

Just as Lu Yan had predicted, Ziyang City had been turned upside down in the past two days. Fan Renfu went crazy and offered a reward of fifty taels of silver for the arrest of the suspect, and waves of thugs carrying portraits ran rampant through the streets.

The dilapidated temple was also searched once. But the two constables, standing at the door, smelled the strong musty and dead rat odor inside, cursed "bad luck" and left without even looking up at the three people hiding in the shadows of the rafters.

The third day, the thirteenth day of the first lunar month, early morning.

The weather was uncooperative; low, leaden clouds hung overhead like a sealed black pot. The north wind whipped up withered grass and snowflakes, raging through the streets and alleys of Ziyang City.

"action."

Lu Yan jumped off the roof beam, landing silently. After two days of rest, although he looked emaciated, his eyes were sharper than before.

Like ghosts, the three of them took advantage of the morning mist to avoid the main roads and sneak along the city's sewers and alleys, heading towards the Shanxi Merchants' Guild Hall.

At 3:45 AM, in the back alley of the Shanxi Merchants Guild Hall.

This is the most secluded corner of the entire clubhouse.

"There it is," Lu Yan said in a low voice.

Sure enough, in the shadows deep in the alley, there was a dark cart. Pulling it was a skinny but incredibly strong old horse, snorting anxiously.

The truck was not loaded with cargo, but instead piled high with coal ash.

This was precisely the "shelter" that Lu Yan had asked Fan Yongdou for. On this day when the entire city was under martial law and adorned in finery to welcome the imperial censor, only these most filthy, inconspicuous, and most avoided coal trucks had a chance of getting through the checkpoints.

"Get in the car."

Without any hesitation, Lu Yan climbed into the car. He pressed Zhao Changying and Fan Fu into the pile of dirty coal ash and covered them with a tattered tarpaulin.

"Be patient and don't make a sound."

After settling the two people in, Lu Yan grabbed a handful of coal ash and smeared it all over his face, neck, and even under his fingernails.

In the blink of an eye, the handsome young man, a promising candidate for the imperial examination, was gone, replaced by an old coachman with a dirty face, a hunched back, and cloudy eyes. He casually picked up a tattered straw hat from the coach shaft and put it on his head, covering most of his face.

"drive!"

Lu Yan shook the reins, his voice hoarse and humble, mimicking the tone of a lowly laborer.

The old horse struggled to move forward, its wheels crunching through the snow. The cart, carrying the lives of three people, slowly drove out of the alley and merged into the flow of people heading towards the North Gate.

At this moment, Ziyang City had entered a state of abnormal euphoria.

To welcome Zuo Guangdou, the county magistrate ordered the entire city to be cleaned with water and the roads paved with yellow earth. The streets were lined with yamen runners and their cronies to maintain order. Meanwhile, Fan Renfu's men, dressed as servants, mingled in the crowd, their eyes scanning every passerby like hawks.

Lu Yan lowered the brim of his hat, trying to keep the carriage close to the side of the road.

The stench and filth of the coal carts became the best camouflage. The citizens who were dressed respectably and were preparing to watch the censors covered their noses and avoided them, afraid of getting even a speck of coal dust on them.

"Whose car is that? How can they be so disrespectful?"

"Shh, keep your voice down. The magistrate is coming into town today; he's probably delivering heating coal to the post station. Don't cause trouble."

The journey was fraught with danger but ultimately safe.

With the tall city gate tower of the North Gate already within reach, just outside that gate would be the Ten-Mile Pavilion, the only route Zuo Guangdou could take.

However, just as the wheels were about to turn onto the main street, an accident still occurred.

"Stop! You coal truck!"

A sharp shout came from the side front.

Three burly men dressed as servants of the Fan family, holding portraits in their hands, were impatiently questioning passersby. The leader, with a face full of scars, had a bulging bulge at his waist, clearly concealing a weapon.

He saw the large, heavily covered cart, then glanced at the hunched-over driver, a hint of suspicion flashing in his eyes. He immediately approached warily.

"What are you doing? What's in the cart?" The burly servant poked the wheel with his whistle.

Lu Yan's hand tightened slightly, then loosened. He shrank his neck, forcing a smile: "Gentlemen, it's just some coal ash from the stove, being delivered to the kilns outside the city. It's very dirty, don't let it offend your eyes..."

"Coal ash?" The burly servant sneered. "The Imperial Censor is entering the city today, and martial law is in effect. You're delivering coal at this hour? I suspect something's up! Lift the lid and take a look!"

"Sir, it really is coal ash..." Lu Yan tried to stop him.

"Enough nonsense! Master Fan has ordered that we should kill the innocent rather than let the guilty go free!" The burly man was extremely arrogant and did not listen to any explanation. He shoved Lu Yan aside and reached out to pull the tarpaulin off the car.

Lu Yan stumbled as he was pushed, but the moment he lowered his head, the humility in his eyes vanished instantly, replaced by an absolute calmness like that before an engineering demolition.

Distance, three steps.

Wind direction: Northwest, tailwind.

The enemy numbered three, and they were completely unprepared.

On construction sites, when safety accidents are unavoidable, the only option is to force a breakout, causing maximum chaos.

"Long spear!"

Lu Yan gave a low shout, not loud, but it sounded like the moment a detonator was pressed.

At the same time, he kicked the horse's rump hard.

The old horse, in pain, let out a mournful neigh, stomped its hooves, and charged forward.

"Splash!"

The tarpaulin was suddenly lifted.

Instead of the flashing blades, the three servants were greeted by a black "cloud".

When Lu Yan boarded the train, he deliberately cut open the top two bags of sifted fine coal ash. Zhao Changying suddenly kicked out of the carriage, his legs springing like springs, sending the two bags of coal ash hurtling into the air.

"Bang!"

A cloud of black dust exploded instantly on the narrow street. While this high concentration of dust wouldn't explode at close range, its blinding and suffocating effects were far more terrifying than lime powder.

"Cough cough! My eyes!"

"Ah! What is that?!"

The three servants were instantly blinded, covered their faces and screamed in agony, snot and tears streaming down their faces, choking so badly they couldn't even straighten their backs.

"Charge!"

Lu Yan gave them no chance to breathe. Instead of wielding the whip, he drew the short blade from his waist and stabbed it hard into the horse's rump.

Old Ma went berserk.

This crazed coal truck, like a runaway steel monster, smashed through the three screaming servants, overturned roadside stalls, and sped off towards the direction that would determine their fate—the North Gate Pavilion—leaving behind a trail of dust and chaos.

"Stop him! Stop that car!"

From the dust and smoke behind them came the furious shouts of the servants and the clanging of gongs.

But Lu Yan knew they couldn't stop them.

Because from the galloping carriage, through the flying coal dust, he could already see the imperial censor's ceremonial flag fluttering high outside the city gate, embroidered with the four characters "On Behalf of Heaven, Patrol the Capital".

That was a symbol of the laws of the Ming Dynasty, and also Fan Renfu's death warrant.

"Hold on tight!"

Lu Yan gripped the reins tightly, a sinister smile spreading across his face as the carriage lurched and wrecked.

"The show is about to begin."