Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Imperial Land of Southern Lanling County

The Southern Lanling Commandery—this was a place of no small fame. Even someone as clueless about history as Ming Tian, who in his previous life only knew how to enjoy novels and blockbuster special effects, had heard of it. Since ancient times, since the earliest records, the Southern Lanling Commandery had produced eight founding emperors; in the Northern and Southern Dynasties alone, there were two: Emperor Gao of Qi, Xiao Daocheng, and Emperor Wu of Liang, Xiao Yan. Because so many emperors were born here, the common folk called Southern Lanling the Land of Emperors.

Still, Ming Tian couldn’t help but puzzle over a few things. Why did Emperor Wu of Liang’s name sound just like the protagonist in that fantasy novel about battling energies? And why did so many emperors of the Southern Dynasties have the surname Xiao? Were they all from the same family? If so, why were there different states like Qi and Liang? But Ming Tian didn’t dwell on these questions; history wasn’t his strong suit, and he'd rather not embarrass himself. Instead, he stuck his head out of the carriage and continued to vomit.

Governor Yu was certainly considerate; he had assigned Ming Tian the best three warhorses from Douhu Prefecture to pull his carriage. What would normally be a four-day journey was completed in just two.

Southern Lanling Commandery, nestled by mountains and water, and so close to Jiankang, naturally possessed remarkable advantages. Entering the city, Ming Tian had to admit he was impressed. The air was free of foul odors; thanks to the nearby river, dedicated workers handled waste, and the proximity to Jiankang meant the environment here was leagues better than Sumenzhen or Douhu Prefecture, almost as if they belonged to different eras.

The streets bustled with people in a harmonious, thriving atmosphere. Every vendor and commoner wore a satisfied smile.

“At least the environment here is something I can tolerate... urgh…” Ming Tian said, but before he could finish, his severe motion sickness had him retching again.

“If you like it, try not to ruin the environment,” Yin Chan, sitting inside the carriage, pinched her nose with distaste. Ming Tian had vomited so much he was bringing up bile, leaving a bitter stench in the air.

Anluo, driving the carriage, watched Ming Tian with concern, glancing back frequently but not daring to let his focus slip.

According to the family letter, Pan Yuer was currently resting at the ancestral home of the Duke of Southern Lan Commandery, accompanied by Wang Jingze, Duke of Panyang Chen Xianda, and Xiao Yaoguang, the Prefect of Yangzhou. It seemed they were all preparing to enter the capital together.

These four were all towering figures. Ming Tian, not yet engaged to the Princess of Jiangmen, and even if he were already married and a true prince consort, would still be a rank lower in status due to his commoner background. As a prince consort, he would be equal to any of those four at best, or perhaps only half a rank higher.

Ming Tian’s plan was straightforward: win over Wang Jingze, curry favor with Pan Yuer, and secure good relations. When Emperor Ming of Qi died and Marquis Donghun ascended the throne, Pan Yuer would enter the palace, and both Ming Tian and Yin Chan would win the new emperor’s favor.

At that point, Ming Tian’s name would be known throughout the realm, and even if Yin Chan achieved nothing else, with Ming Tian’s culinary skill she could at least become a second-rank chief imperial physician in charge of meals.

With these two positions, achieving greatness would be just within reach.

Only two variables could upset this plan.

First, Wang Jingze’s temperament—no one could predict what kind of man he truly was.

Second, and the greatest uncertainty of all: Pan Yuer herself.

This woman was reputed to possess peerless beauty, but since history recorded nothing about the Princess of Jiangmen, it was impossible to know just how beautiful she really was. Yet her reputation stemmed not from her looks, but from her ruinous nature. Pan Yuer was cunning and ruthless, with a heart like a viper. After winning the favor of Marquis Donghun, she and her father Yu Baoqing colluded, and half of Qi’s downfall was attributed to her. Clearly, she possessed enough skill to make even a notorious womanizer like Marquis Donghun spin in circles.

Ming Tian had yet to meet her, but he was certain this woman was anything but harmless.

They arrived at Southern Lanling by dusk, and Ming Tian decided to find an inn, wash up, and meet Pan Yuer in the best possible state tomorrow. After these days of travel and the ordeal in Douhu Prefecture, Yin Chan looked half-crazed, while Ming Tian himself was unshaven and disheveled, like a madman escaped from an asylum. As for Anluo… he had always looked like a wild man; their recent journey had only made his wildness more pronounced.

That night passed in silence.

Far from the clamor of the modern age, with no industrial pollution, the ancient night was almost entirely still, save for the occasional bark of a stray dog.

Yet Ming Tian couldn't sleep. He was desperate to urinate—and move his bowels.

Only after coming to this world did Ming Tian realize how harsh life in ancient times truly was, and how fake novels made everything seem. None ever mentioned how characters dealt with bodily functions—as if no one ever needed to relieve themselves!

The inn in Southern Lanling was extremely luxurious, the equivalent of a modern five-star hotel. For the three of them, one night cost 900 copper coins, and the rooms came with a chamber pot and disposable bamboo sticks for wiping.

Yes, in ancient times, people wiped with bamboo sticks—smoothly polished, but if you weren’t careful, you could still scrape yourself and end up with a painful fissure.

Every bowel movement was a battle for Ming Tian.

Unable to hold it any longer, he left the inn. Use the chamber pot? Not a chance! Just lifting the lid released a stench so intense it nearly knocked him out on the spot.

“Anluo?”

Stepping out under the starlight, Ming Tian spotted Anluo gripping his blade like a guard at the gate. What was he doing out here at this hour? It was already midnight, and no one was around to admire his stance.

“Ming Tian?” As soon as he saw him, Anluo’s fierce face softened into a simple, honest smile. “What brings you out?”

“Nature’s call,” Ming Tian replied, waving his bamboo sticks. “What about you? Looking for a place to relieve yourself too?”

“No,” Anluo’s expression darkened. “I heard a woman’s cry for help from my room earlier, so I came out to investigate.”

A woman’s cry for help?

Ming Tian was puzzled. No wonder—ever since coming to the past, constant nausea had left his ears ringing; his hearing was poor, so it was no surprise he had heard nothing.

But just then:

“Help!”

A shrill cry split the night.

Anluo’s eyes narrowed sharply. Ming Tian froze in surprise.

What on earth? This was Southern Lanling Commandery—was there really a robbery at this hour? Wasn’t there a nighttime curfew? Why would a woman be outside at this time?

“Let’s go see.” Ming Tian’s curiosity outweighed any urge to play hero, and with a command, he and Anluo rushed toward the source of the cry.

Unlike modern high-rises, ancient towns were a maze of single-story homes, their layout winding and complex despite the lower population density.

Navigating the twists and turns, they finally arrived at a narrow alley, only to be stunned by a scene of utter brutality.

“What the—what the hell is going on here?! Is the law in Southern Lanling really this lax?!”

…