Chapter 1522 - Chengguan Town

Zuo Yamei finished getting ready and gave Li Yongxun a slight bow. "Senior, I'm off. I'll be back for work by noon the day after tomorrow."

She left the police dormitory. By now she had thrown on a plain black police cape with no insignia—because this Song-style cape resembled the monks' one-wrap-round robes, the common folk called it that. In fact, it was modeled on the British police cape, made of imported British thin wool, with some insulation and water resistance—useful for blocking wind and cold in winter.

For Zuo Yamei in her short skirt, the cape was ideal. It provided warmth—even after all her time at the Maidservant School, or the College of Arts and Sciences, she still could not, like some female Senior Officials, expose her legs without concern for temperature. Reportedly, even in freezing weather, the female Senior Officials could stride about in short skirts without flinching. And the cape covered most of her legs. The skirt was really quite short; in Lingao—the core of Australian rule—the shortest skirts among naturalized women now reached the knee. But Zuo Yamei's hem was above the knee, exposing a bit of thigh. Even though she had worn it more than once, the coolness on her thighs still made her tug unconsciously at the hem from time to time.

The first time she received this outfit, she had had misgivings. In internal films she had seen, many Australian women dressed this way, but in the Ming, such a short skirt was scandalous—even in Lingao.

Still, as a student of the College of Arts and Sciences, she had no choice. Legally, she was no longer a slave of the Executive Office, but she had also lost the chance to become a Senior Official's personal secretary. For Zuo Yamei, who aspired to rise higher in Lingao, this was a new opportunity.

She boarded the City Rail. As a cadre among naturalized citizens, she traveled second class. It was now six in the evening—rush hour—but she was on the southbound line toward Nanbao, where settlements were sparse. Passengers were few, and second class was nearly empty—almost all naturalized citizens.

The moment Zuo Yamei boarded, she drew every eye in the carriage. Though passengers could not see her uniform, her wool police cape was a rarity in Lingao, not to mention her distinctive bearing. A few young women whispered among themselves, eyes betraying envy. Zuo Yamei both enjoyed and felt awkward under such attention. With everyone watching, she tugged at the cape's hem again to make sure it covered skirt and thighs.

Because of the skirt, she did not dare sit. She leaned against the railing by the door, gazing out the window, silently reviewing what the teacher had taught in her last class. She hummed tunes barely above a whisper, her fingers miming gestures.

"Chengguan Town. Chengguan Town." The conductor announced the stop, and the little train slowly pulled into the station. Chengguan Town was Lingao's county seat. On the southbound line, this was a major stop. Zuo Yamei disembarked.

The platform was brightly lit by gas lamps, yet only a dozen or so people were about. The bored station attendant yawned behind the yellow line.

The station was well built, but few people got on or off here—the passenger volume was even less than Nanbao, the southern terminus.

Chengguan Town had become the least significant of the county's three main towns. As the center of power shifted to Bairenfort and East Gate Market, and Bopu surged economically, the old county seat had gradually been left behind—even less bustling than some commune headquarters.

The county yamen still stood in its original place, but it was now purely symbolic. Though the Ming county apparatus remained, with a vice-magistrate acting in charge, everyone knew real power lay with the Civil Affairs People's Committee Lingao County Office, whose sign hung on a red-brick building in East Gate Market.

Besides this ornamental yamen, the only important institutions in town were the Grain Requisition Bureau and the Consultative Assembly. The sole major merchant left was Runshetang—and even Runshetang had long since opened a new flagship store in East Gate Market; the owner's family had moved there too. The pharmaceutical factory had left the city walls years ago. This original shop remained only to show they had not forgotten their roots.

Neither administrative hub nor economic center, with no business and no job opportunities, the already-small population of merchants and residents began migrating en masse. Hollowing-out set in rapidly.

Within a few years, the already-quiet county seat grew quieter still. Even the main street in front of the yamen—once the only prosperous thoroughfare—became deserted. The permanent population had never exceeded three or four thousand; the town had always had many vacant official buildings and wasteland. Now even the main street saw buildings collapsing from disuse.

As commoners left, the remaining gentry and wealthy households found the lifeless town increasingly inconvenient. Though roads had been repaired and garbage cleared, municipal infrastructure lagged far behind East Gate Market. The narrow streets could not accommodate public carriages. Without sewers, the bathroom fixtures popular in East Gate Market were just ornaments here. With no sewers, no gas lines had been laid either—gas streetlamps and household gas lamps were nonexistent.

Worst of all, commerce had virtually vanished. Apart from buying medicine, nearly everything required a trip to East Gate Market. The gentry, having sampled the luxuries of the newly rich in East Gate Market, could no longer tolerate their old lives. Many had moved to the new high-end residential district along the Wenlan River, with all modern amenities.

With population draining away, property prices in Chengguan Town slid even as prices in East Gate Market, Bopu, and even Nanbao near the Li district soared.

This suited the Executive Office's need to expand administrative space.

Though an economic backwater, the location was advantageous and transport convenient. With no industry nearby, it was quieter and more peaceful. The high city walls made internal security easier.

The External Intelligence Bureau had first recognized these advantages and set up its training facility inside the walls. Later, other agencies established branches here to offload their swelling bureaucracies.

Now the Executive Office intended to use this land to solve the problem of accommodating ever-growing departments. When Bairenfort was first built, its perimeter had been kept small for defense. Back then, a single two-story building could house an entire ministry. Now, with a vast enterprise, agencies had ballooned; office space was no longer sufficient.

Expansion would mean enlarging Bairenfort. But East Gate Market's explosive growth was already threatening to engulf Bairenfort. Industrial zones and intensive farms were also swallowing surrounding land. Expansion plans had been discussed repeatedly between the Executive Office and the General Construction Company but never finalized due to the unsuitable surroundings. Many agencies, unable to expand within Bairenfort, had already relocated wholly or partly to East Gate Market or elsewhere. This not only strained the already-stretched internal-security forces but also made coordination difficult due to scattered offices.

After much discussion, the Executive Office, the Planning Commission, and the General Construction Company concluded that the county seat was the most economical and practical choice for a new Green Zone. Some agencies could relocate there, and the new residential area the Yuanlao eagerly anticipated could also be built inside the walls. A final plan was reached; the County Office would handle the actual relocation.

Lingao County Seat had always had a large proportion of official land and buildings. With most residents having emigrated, the County Office had acquired seven or eight tenths of the town's real estate with little difficulty. Though demolition and reconstruction had not formally begun, some homeless agencies had already moved in.

Zuo Yamei's destination was one such institution. She exited the station—Chengguan Station was right at the old city gate, with a corridor linking directly to the square before the gate.

Lingao's city gates no longer closed at nightfall, but security was tighter than ever. Soldiers of the Lingao Garrison Battalion stood guard at the gate; everyone entering or leaving had to show credentials. Zuo Yamei presented her work ID and entry pass and was admitted without fuss.

The street was brightly lit by temporary torch cages—no gas lamps here yet, so these stood in. The main street had been dug up for sewer installation, and without night lighting, accidents would be inevitable. Zuo Yamei picked her way carefully along a temporary footpath. The town was desolate. Apart from the torch cages on the street, the buildings on either side were mostly dark and empty—eerily quiet, nothing like the bustle of East Gate Market. She had been here before and knew the area was tightly guarded, a top-security Green Zone. Still, walking alone through near-ruins unnerved her.

Fortunately, the walk was short. After seven or eight minutes, she turned at a spot marked by a lantern. Before her appeared a brightly lit compound.