The newly appointed Governor of Shaanxi, Lian Guoshi, had arrived.
He traveled with a sizable retinue, his expression composed and his spirits outwardly high as he prepared to assume office.
Along the journey, Lian Guoshi had repeatedly reminded himself of one principle: when writing memorials to the emperor, he must be absolutely truthful. He would not embellish, exaggerate, or fabricate matters merely to curry favor.
His predecessor, Governor Wang Shunxing, had been dismissed precisely because of memorials filled with bizarre, unreliable claims—stories about enormous iron tracks and giant iron carriages capable of transporting over a thousand people at once.
Utter nonsense.
At least, that was what the court had judged.
Lian Guoshi had no intention of following Wang Shunxing's path. He resolved that every word he submitted would be accurate and restrained, leaving no room for suspicion.
"Master," one of his attendants said excitedly, pointing ahead, "Xi'an City's walls are in sight! We've traveled for days from the capital—at last we've arrived."
Lian Guoshi exhaled slowly. "Indeed. This journey has not been easy."
He had entered Shaanxi through Tongguan Pass, the traditional route for imperial officials. By chance—or perhaps fortune—this path allowed him to completely bypass the territory controlled by Gao Family Village.
As a result, he had yet to personally experience any of Gao Family Village's much-rumored peculiarities.
Just as he was thinking this—
"Eh? Master!" the attendant suddenly cried out. "Look over there! There's a strange road beside us. It's paved with wood… and large iron blocks."
Startled, Lian Guoshi leaned out of the carriage.
To the right of the road, not far away, lay something truly unusual. Wooden sleepers were laid at regular intervals, with two long iron tracks resting upon them. The structure extended in a straight line, running from the northeast toward the eastern outskirts of Xi'an City.
Lian Guoshi dismounted and walked over, cautiously reaching out to tap the metal.
It rang solidly.
Iron.
His breath caught.
"Good heavens…" he murmured. "Could this be the 'giant iron tracks' that Wang Shunxing mentioned in his memorial?"
A chill ran through his spine.
Could it be that Wang Shunxing had not been deceiving the emperor at all?
Beside the tracks stood a wooden signboard bearing clear characters:
"Railway Danger. Please Do Not Approach."
The attendant laughed when he saw it. "Master, they even put up a warning. What danger could there be? Just some wood and iron blocks. They're clearly trying to scare people."
Before the words had fully left his mouth—
The iron tracks trembled.
A faint vibration traveled through the ground.
Someone pressed an ear closer and frowned. "Master… I hear something."
From afar came a rhythmic sound.
Chug… chug… chug…
Lian Guoshi's expression changed instantly.
"Everyone away from the tracks!" he shouted. "The iron carriage is coming!"
Several attendants who had been standing directly on the rails scrambled away in panic, retreating to the roadside.
The sound grew louder.
Closer.
Then—
A massive iron vehicle came into view.
It was enormous.
Though its speed was not faster than a galloping horse, its sheer size was overwhelming. The colossal body rolled forward with unstoppable momentum, steam hissing and iron clanking as it passed.
A powerful gust of wind followed in its wake.
The attendants stumbled backward, some nearly falling, their faces pale with fear, terrified that a single misstep would drag them beneath the wheels.
Lian Guoshi stood frozen.
His face was drained of color, his eyes wide as he stared at the iron monstrosity rumbling past.
Only after an attendant shook him repeatedly did he regain his senses.
"My heavens…" he whispered. "That iron carriage… truly exists."
His entourage erupted into anxious chatter, voices overlapping as they discussed the terrifying sight.
But in Lian Guoshi's mind, only one thought remained.
A memorial.
Such a thing absolutely had to be reported.
And yet—
Another memory surfaced immediately.
"Wang Shunxing spoke wild nonsense, deceived the emperor, and was dismissed."
Lian Guoshi's heart clenched.
How did I come to be governor?
Because Wang Shunxing wrote about an iron carriage… and lost his post.
Realization struck like a hammer.
This memorial must not be written.
No—no, that was wrong.
He had already sworn not to deceive His Majesty. The truth must be reported.
But what if telling the truth leads to dismissal?
The contradiction crushed him.
Lian Guoshi slumped to the ground, completely dispirited.
"Master! Master, what's wrong?"
His attendants rushed to help him up.
Lian Guoshi gasped for breath, his chest tight with anguish.
He was a descendant of a founding meritorious minister. For eight generations, the Lian family had produced upright officials loyal to the Great Ming.
If his term ended in disgrace…
How could he face his ancestors?
He clenched his teeth.
"Follow the tracks forward," he said hoarsely. "This official intends to see for himself what this contraption truly is."
Thus, the weary procession continued along the railway.
Before long, they arrived at Xi'an Train Station.
The iron carriage that had thundered past earlier was now stopped within the station. One by one, common folk disembarked from its carriages.
Lian Guoshi estimated silently.
At least a thousand people.
Wang Shunxing's memorial had not contained a single lie.
But it did not matter.
The truth was simply too unbelievable.
An emperor confined within palace walls would never believe such a thing existed in the world.
Even Lian Guoshi himself, seeing it with his own eyes, still felt as though he were dreaming.
As he pondered this, a group of people exited the station and walked toward him along the tracks.
The man at the front wore splendid robes, his bearing noble. His face struck Lian Guoshi as strangely familiar.
That jawline…
So similar to the Imperial Ancestor's.
Royal blood.
Realization dawned instantly.
Zhu Cunji—the Prince of Qin's heir.
In Xi'an, who else could possess such bearing, attire, and entourage?
Before Lian Guoshi could speak, the man smiled and called out, "Judging by your retinue, you must be the new Governor, Lian Guoshi?"
Lian Guoshi straightened. "And you are, sir?"
"This heir is Zhu Cunji."
Lian Guoshi immediately bowed deeply. "Your humble subordinate greets Your Highness, the Heir Apparent."
Zhu Cunji waved his hand dismissively. "Enough of that. How many civil officials truly respect this prince? You call yourself a subordinate, but in your hearts you think yourselves superior."
Lian Guoshi fell silent.
Zhu Cunji snorted. "Let me tell you, this prince is not some idle wastrel. I am currently engaged in a serious undertaking."
Lian Guoshi looked puzzled.
Zhu Cunji ignored him and crouched down beside the tracks, running his hand over the wooden sleepers.
"These sleepers," he said, turning to his subordinates, "they shouldn't be difficult to make, correct?"
One subordinate nodded. "Our carpenters can manage that."
Zhu Cunji tapped the iron rails. "And these?"
"If forged hammer by hammer, it can be done," the subordinate replied. "But casting them directly from molten iron, like Mr. Li's people do—we cannot manage that."
Zhu Cunji frowned slightly, deep in thought.
Lian Guoshi stood nearby, watching in silence, his heart heavy.
The iron carriage.
The railway.
The memorial.
For the first time since taking office, he realized that governing Shaanxi might be far more terrifying than he had ever imagined.