HNYWEF -Chapter 172 Changing Route

Zhenguan Year Five, Fourth Month, Fourth Day.

Luoyang.

Morning light shone from the east, turning the bricks atop the city walls a faint red.

Three carriages rumbled across the moat, entered through Dingding Gate, and proceeded onto the main avenue.

The avenue was broad enough for several carriages to ride abreast, yet at this moment there were barely any people on the road.

The shops on both sides had their doors open. Figures moved inside, but the street itself was empty—not a single pedestrian in sight.

Zhou Xiong rode at the very front. He swept his gaze around, then pulled on the reins.

Something was wrong.

Too clean.

Not the kind of clean from sweeping. The kind that came from clearing everyone out.

He had seen scenes like this before.

Whenever Li Er—that fellow—went on an inspection tour, the roads ahead were always emptied like this.

But he was only a marquis. Passing through Luoyang shouldn’t warrant such treatment.

He raised a hand, and the convoy stopped.

Zhou Yi rode over and lowered his voice.

“Dad, what is it?”

Zhou Xiong did not answer.

He dismounted and walked to the second carriage.

The curtain lifted slightly, and Li Lizhi poked her head out to look at him.

“Dad?”

Zhou Xiong glanced at both sides of the street.

“They cleared the area.”

Li Lizhi froze for a moment.

Following his gaze, she looked toward the shops lining the street and realized that people were inside, yet none were outside.

She understood immediately.

She stepped out of the carriage and stood beside Zhou Xiong.

Not angry—rather, she carried the calmness of someone accustomed to seeing this sort of thing.

She called toward the rear.

“Captain of the guards.”

A young armored officer hurried over and saluted.

“Princess.”

Li Lizhi said, “Bring the Luoyang magistrate here.”

The guard acknowledged the order, mounted his horse, and galloped toward the government offices.

The convoy remained stopped in the middle of the street. No one spoke.

Zhou Yi dismounted as well and stood beside Zhou Xiong, staring at the half-closed shop doors, at the heads that poked out for a glance before shrinking back again. He could not quite describe what he felt.

He looked at his father.

Zhou Xiong stood there expressionless.

The magistrate of Luoyang arrived quickly.

He came running, clutching the hem of his official robe in his hands. Even his hat had tilted crooked.

When he reached them and saw Li Lizhi, he dropped to his knees with a thud, forehead striking the stone pavement.

“This humble official, Meng Wenzhong, magistrate of Luoyang, greets Princess Changle!”

Li Lizhi looked at him and spoke. Her voice was not loud, but every word was perfectly clear.

“Magistrate Meng, what is the meaning of this street?”

Meng Wenzhong remained sprawled on the ground, his muffled voice emerging from between his arms.

“Your Highness, this official… this official did not know Your Highness was arriving and thus failed to welcome you from afar. I—”

“That is not what I asked.”

His words abruptly stopped.

Li Lizhi’s voice rose only slightly.

“Where are the people on the street? The shops are open, yet the road is empty. Did you clear the area?”

Sweat began pouring down Meng Wenzhong’s forehead.

“Your Highness, please hear me out. This official… this official received word from my superiors that an honored personage would be passing through Luoyang. I dared not neglect the matter, so I—”

“Your superiors? Which superiors? The Zheng Clan of Xingyang?”

Meng Wenzhong opened his mouth, unable to answer.

Li Lizhi stared at him for two breaths.

Then she spoke again, her voice still calm, though each word sounded as if it had been forced through clenched teeth.

“I am traveling for private matters, not on an imperial tour. Why clear the streets? Disturbing the people, wasting labor and money—who gave you the courage to do this?”

Meng Wenzhong trembled all over.

“This official… this official knows his crime…”

Li Lizhi ignored him after that.

She turned toward Zhou Xiong. There was a trace of apology in her eyes, as though saying: Dad, I’m sorry. I caused you trouble.

Zhou Xiong looked at her.

“That’s enough,” he said at last, his hoarse voice quiet and rough.

Li Lizhi looked back at him.

Zhou Xiong glanced toward the street, then at the kneeling Meng Wenzhong before withdrawing his gaze.

“If we continue according to the original plan and head through Huai Prefecture, this sort of thing will keep happening.”

Li Lizhi paused.

After a moment, she nodded.

Huai Prefecture was the administrative center of Hebei Circuit. The officials there would only be more eager to flatter them, not less.

“What do you mean, Dad?”

Zhou Xiong replied, “We’ll make preparations in Luoyang today, then change route and go through Bian Prefecture instead.”

Li Lizhi did not hesitate.

“Alright.”

Just a single word.

She turned back toward the still-kneeling Meng Wenzhong.

“You may rise.”

Meng Wenzhong lifted his head. His face was smeared with sweat and dirt, utterly miserable.

Li Lizhi said, “We’ll purchase supplies in Luoyang today and depart tomorrow morning. Go back and restore the streets to normal. Those who should set up stalls, set up stalls. Those who should walk the streets, walk the streets. If I see another street-clearing—”

She did not finish the sentence.

Meng Wenzhong had already slammed his forehead back onto the ground.

“This official obeys! This official will handle it immediately!”

He scrambled to his feet and staggered away.

The hem of his robe dragged through the dust, but he did not even think to lift it again.

The convoy began moving once more toward the relay station.

The streets were still mostly empty, but Zhou Xiong knew that before long, people would emerge again—from the shops, from the alleys, from behind those half-closed doors.

The street would still be the same street. The people would still be the same people.

As though nothing had ever happened.

Zhou Yi rode beside Zhou Xiong and glanced at his father’s profile.

“Dad, about Bian Prefecture—”

“We’ll talk when we get there.”

Zhou Yi asked no more.

He looked back once. Li Lizhi had already returned to her carriage, the curtains lowered once again.

Turning forward, he looked at the road ahead.

The avenue stretched endlessly forward in a straight line. On both sides, the locust trees had just sprouted fresh leaves, tender green and swaying gently in the morning breeze.