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The narrator's research trip to Yan was sponsored by Earl Leyment, a nephew of the Duke of Gododdin, who hoped to impress the Royal Academy of Sciences in Londinium but had little interest in Yanese culture. Most Victorians know Yan only through the port of Lungmen and Yanese tea. The narrator reached Lungmen after a month and a half, waited two weeks for a foreign visitor identification card, and then traveled deeper into Yan.
Yan has over 300 million people across nineteen administrative divisions, with Lungmen (coded 0019) the youngest. It is governed by the Emperor, the "True Lung," through the Imperial Court—the Cabinet and the Six Ministries (Personnel, Revenue, Rites, War, Justice, and Works). The highest local divisions, the Secretaries of Administration, are led by Regional Head Secretaries reporting to the six ministries; prefectures under magistrates, and provinces and counties, follow below. Border cities like Lungmen are governed by court-appointed Chief Executives, such as the famous Mr. Wei Yenwu. Laws are codified in the Law of Yan, and judicial authority is shared by the "Three Organs of Justice." The Sui Regulator manages the bestial Sui through its "Candleholders," while the Imperial Astronomical Bureau handles Catastrophe forecasting.
The Chidao, once reserved for the Emperor, now connect settlements and are centrally maintained. Yan's history begins with the House of Yan, whose first True Lung and his wife created the Yanese language; after his death the "Hundred Clan Rebellion" ended with a new True Lung founding a unified regime. Tianshis, trained through the rigorous imperial examination, serve as Originium experts, and the Infected are treated tolerantly under the Ministry of Revenue's oversight.
The narrator traveled south with a convoy led by Lao Meng, then by barge to Shangshu, where people identify by region rather than race and cuisine is spicy. New Year's fireworks traditions supposedly stem from a legendary war between the Emperor and the gods—an unverifiable legend. In Lungmen, a history teacher named Ye described street vending, shopping malls, skyways, armed escorts, and the canal that eases traffic and offers riverside leisure. The narrator left after watching the sunrise on the river.
Earl Leyment, a distant nephew of the Duke of Gododdin, sponsored my research trip to Yan. The dashing Earl hoped his generosity would impress the Royal Academy of Sciences in Londinium, but he had no real interest in the eastern nation's culture. Victorians know only two things about Yan: the port of Lungmen and Yanese tea. I told him I would stop in Lungmen but venture deeper, at least a step beyond the typical affluent tourist—words that briefly caused him concern.
A month and a half later I arrived in Lungmen, visiting old friends who now teach there. In this sleepless, westernmost city of Yan, foreign faces are common. After two weeks I received a foreign visitor identification card with my name in Yanese script. With a population of 300 million, Yan's Ministry of Revenue—responsible for household registration and finances—is likely the most complex administrative body on the land. Feranmutologists uncover ancient mysteries while Lungs bestow divine titles on remarkable individuals, and the Emperor and Six Ministries jointly oversee the realm, keeping peace within Yan's borders.
Yan comprises nineteen administrative divisions; Lungmen, coded 0019, is the youngest. More than 300 million people live in its nomadic cities and surface settlements, with farmland, waterways, and the Chidao reshaping the landscape. The highest local division is the "Secretary of Administration," led by a Regional Head Secretary appointed by the central government, though unlike Gaulish provincial chiefs they report to the six ministries rather than the Emperor. These Secretaries establish "prefectures" around major nomadic cities, each led by a magistrate; smaller settlements form "provinces" or "counties" subordinate to prefectures. Border cities like Lungmen fall outside this system: the imperial court appoints a Chief Executive over military and political affairs and border defense. Lungmen's Chief Executive, Mr. Wei Yenwu, is likely the most famous Yanese other than its renowned martial artists and actors, though I did not meet him.
Yan is governed by an emperor called the "True Lung," head of state through hereditary succession, ruling through the "Imperial Court" and an extensive bureaucracy. Parallels with Victoria's Draco monarchy are not entirely accurate historically or politically.
After Lungmen I joined a long-haul freight convoy south along the striking Chidao—dark green highways once reserved for the Emperor's travel, now the arteries connecting settlements. Unlike Victoria, where road quality depends on local nobles' wealth and councils debate repairs, Yan's central government bears the cost of maintenance. The driver, a Forte from Yumen and a military retiree I called "Lao Meng" ("lao" conveying respect and seniority), noted that thrifty foreign visitors are common and most drivers speak some foreign language. We boarded a barge upriver. Winter in the southwest is not cold—Shangshu prides itself on year-round spring—though dampness made my joints ache as I gazed at the mist-wreathed city in the mountains.
According to records, Yan's history begins with the House of Yan. Its leader, the first True Lung, prioritized his people's welfare, led them from Catastrophes, and helped them cultivate the land. His wife synthesized tribal languages into the ancient prototype of Yanese; he named himself "Yan" after the first character she created, meaning "vigorous fire." The loyal tribes became the "Hundred Clans" or "baixing," the term Yanese still use for themselves. When the True Lung redistributed land to loyal leaders, they became vassals paying tribute—but he died prematurely, plunging the country into chaos as vassals warred over land. This century-long turmoil, the "Hundred Clan Rebellion," ended when a new True Lung defeated the vassals and established a unified regime through bold reforms and a powerful military.
The Emperor, the Cabinet, and the Six Ministries form the Imperial Court. The Cabinet comprises the Emperor's chief advisors, who consult and participate in decisions. The Six Ministries—Personnel, Revenue, Rites, War, Justice, and Works—each have a High Minister and two Assistant Ministers (Left and Right). The "Law of Yan" has six corresponding categories. Laws are drafted by the Cabinet and ministries, then approved by the Emperor and Cabinet; Regional Head Secretaries and Chief Executives may draft local regulations aligned with the Law of Yan. Judicial authority is divided among the Ministry of Justice (trying cases), the Department of Discipline and Supervision and its Censorate (overseeing the bureaucracy), and the Judicial Review Office (retrying wrongful convictions)—together the "Three Organs of Justice."
Before the Crystal Age, Yan's military followed the Guard and Battalion system, with military and civilian households registered separately, armies self-sufficient and stationed by need. Industrialization brought abolition of military household registration, transforming Guards and Battalions into military camps and adopting conscription, which raised expenditures but professionalized the large army. Two distinctive institutions are the Sui Regulator—responsible for the bestial Sui, whose members, "Candleholders," communicate with, monitor, and seal off these massive creatures—and the Imperial Astronomical Bureau, which handles meteorology and Catastrophe forecasting nationwide; its Director may bypass all levels to report impending Catastrophes directly to the Emperor.
I had feared studying Yan's politics would be difficult, but Yan is not "Eastern Sargon." After the Hundred Clan Rebellion, a civil bureaucracy replaced tribal leaders and vassals. I attended a storyteller's lecture on the Law of Yan—"The Six Cases," linking six legal cases to the six laws, ending with justice prevailing. Folk art with such deep social commentary was new to me, and by custom I should consider the author my master.
To understand Yan's economy, look to the roads and Chidao outside the cities. The central region between two rivers, rich in minerals and water, became home to manufacturing and mining centers during the Crystal Age. The humid south is the primary source of grains and raw materials, famous for high-quality tea and traditional handicrafts. The later-developing northern coast became an important trade hub, with cities like Lungmen opening to merchants and foreign businesses. Geography also shapes culture: southern and northern dialects differ in poetry, eastern and western regions practice distinct martial arts, and the landscape fosters diversity in music, painting, and calligraphy—though most cuisine is less spicy than Shangshu's.
Yan staffs its bureaucracy through the imperial examination, the ticket to upward mobility for common people in civil service, the military, or Originium technology. A Shouye Tianshi explained that Tianshis are both Originium experts and academic researchers and more: "Tian" (Celestial) signifies connection to the divine mandate and loyalty to court and people; "Shi" (Master) signifies mentorship, expertise, and esteemed social position. The first True Lung's advisors split into cabinet ministers and the Tianshis of the Tianshi Bureaus. Admission standards are stringent, requiring exceptional Originium Arts skill; disciples train for years or decades. Tumu Tianshis (civil engineers) designed the Lungmen skyline and Shangshu suspension bridges, and Tianshi techniques are a pillar of Yan's military strength.
Yan is relatively tolerant toward the Infected. Capable Infected may serve the imperial court, and most live normal lives, though they must submit regular health and activity reports to the Ministry of Revenue, which oversees Infected affairs.
New Year's Eve in Shangshu was extraordinary: explosions, smoke, tracers, and colorful bursts over the river. Legend attributes the traditions to a war between the Emperor and the gods, once allies of his ancestors whose arrogance angered him; the True Lung recruited warriors, defeated the gods at great cost, and the weapons used became New Year's firecrackers. I cannot find this legend's origins in historical records—most studies attribute its spread to migration in the two rivers region—yet it remains consistent across Yan in the same form for thousands of years. Who were the gods? How were they defeated? These unsolved riddles were Yan's parting gift.
Passing back through Lungmen, sleepless, I stayed a few more days and met a local history teacher named Ye by the artificial canal. He gave me a grilled finball skewer engraved "Peace and Prosperity"—though the engraving, he smiled, was just a vendor's marketing gimmick. He described how street vendors awaken the city by five or six each morning, how the stalls are as vital as malls and ports, giving tens of thousands energy each day and many a basic living. New shopping malls host concerts, folk activities, e-sports, and even free "public story machines," but they are replicas of an ancient way of life: before nomadic cities, streets were places of commerce, socializing, and living, and today elevated "skyways" through mid-floor and rooftop shopping streets preserve that life. Armed escorts, once relying on kung fu on dangerous routes, have diversified into kung fu training for film or international markets where danger persists. Lungmen's nearly four million people strain transportation, eased by beltways, ferries, bike and bus lanes, and the canal—also a riverside retreat in the dry northwest, comforting "as a warm bowl of porridge on a winter morning." I rented a boat to watch the sunrise, momentarily feeling I had entered a golden palace—until an angler on the bridge tossed his fresh catch into a bucket, and I realized that to him this was just an ordinary river.
Earl Leyment, a distant nephew of the Duke of Gododdin, graciously offered to sponsor my research trip to Yan. The Earl's grandfather once served Gaul, and his father managed to avoid disaster by marrying into a cadet branch of the Gododdin family, even retaining his demesne. The dashing, radiant Earl with gleaming feathers believed his generous sponsorship would leave an impression on the Royal Academy of Sciences in Londinium. However, he clearly lacked any genuine interest in delving deeper into the culture of that eastern nation. Victorians only know two main things about Yan: the bustling port of Lungmen and the famous Yanese tea. Beyond that, the country is merely a mark on the map to them, as perplexing as the inner workings of a nomadic city.
"So, Lungmen is not your final destination?"
"I will stop over in Lungmen, out of necessity, but I won't stay long."
When explaining the situation to my sponsor, I chose my words very carefully. I don't want to just stop at Lungmen. I hope to venture deeper into Yan, at least a step or two further than the typical affluent tourist. For a moment, confusion and concern flashed in the Earl's eyes—I suspected that my use of the term "affluent tourist" might have offended his friends in the aristocracy. But finally, Earl Leyment set down his teacup and flashed a smile, offering just the right amount of warmth to put any hopeful petitioner at ease.
A month and a half later, I arrived in Lungmen and first visited a few long-lost friends—most of whom are now settled there and work as teachers. In this sleepless, westernmost city of Yan, foreign faces are a common sight. After a full two weeks of waiting, my name was finally printed in Yanese script on a foreign visitor identification card. Upon seeing my name written in this exotic, unfamiliar font, a wave of excitement immediately surged through me. All in all, the process was swift. With Yan's population of 300 million, the Ministry of Revenue—responsible for household registration and finances—is likely the most complex and demanding administrative body on this great land.
Travel Journal
In the land of Yan, esteemed Feranmutologists uncover ancient mysteries, while Lungs bestow divine titles upon remarkable individuals. A well-structured bureaucracy ensures effective governance, with the Emperor and the Six Ministries jointly overseeing the great affairs of the realm. No matter how turbulent the land of Terra may become, within the borders of Yan, there is always peace and harmony.
The rivers and mountains of Yan.
For those who live here, its massive population is more than just an abstract number. People crowd the streets of Lungmen, and cities large and small brush past each other along their routes. Yan is made up of nineteen administrative divisions. The famous city of Lungmen, coded 0019, is the youngest among them. Ursine poets and scholars often lament the emptiness of their land, yet this void has been filled by their southern neighbors with astonishing ambition and resolve. More than 300 million people live in Yan's nomadic cities and surface settlements. Farmland, waterways, and the Chidao have reshaped the landscape, creating distinct divisions between regions. Yan's clearly defined local administrative boundaries stand in stark contrast to the overlapping power dynamics of noble fiefs, local councils, and administrative bureaucracies found else where that I am familiar with.
In Yan, the highest local administrative division is called a "Secretary of Administration", led by a (regional) Head Secretary. The Secretaries of Administration are somewhat similar to Gaulish provinces, in that their local chiefs are also appointed by the central government. However, a Regional Head Secretary manages all administrative affairs within their jurisdiction
and reports directly to the six ministries. This is a key departure from Gaulish provinces, where provincial chiefs reported directly to the Emperor. The Secretaries of Administration establish "prefectures" encompassing major nomadic cities and their suburbs. Each prefecture is led by a magistrate, who serves as the local administrative chief. Smaller nomadic cities and even smaller nomadic settlements are classified as "provinces" or "counties" and are subordinate to the prefectures. Border cities like Lungmen are not under the jurisdiction of a Secretary of Administration. The imperial court appoints a Chief Executive to govern military and political affairs in each city, but their responsibilities extend beyond the city itself to include overseeing border defense across Yan's frontier regions.
Mr. Wei Yenwu, Lungmen's Chief Executive, is likely the most famous Yanese (other than its renowned martial artists/actors). Unfortunately, during my brief stay in Lungmen, I did not have the good fortune to meet him. However, I believe his achievements in Lungmen provide a clear picture of the role he and other politicians like him play in Yan's vast political system.
Yan's political system is vast, but its structure is not particularly complex. Yan is governed by an emperor, known as the "True
Lungmen's nightscape – this is where many people's understanding of Yan ends.
After leaving Lungmen, I continued my journey with a long-haul freight convoy heading south. The Chidao (highways) cutting through the yellow sands are quite striking, with dark green roads stretching to the horizon. These Chidao are part of Yan's transportation network. Once reserved exclusively for the Emperor's travel, they have now become the major arteries connecting Yan's various settlements. Victoria also has an urban transportation grid with a rich history. However, the quality of the roads often reflects the wealth of the local nobility, with wealthier areas enjoying better maintenance. Whenever roads are damaged by Catastrophe or human actions, local councils debate endlessly over repairs. In Yan, however, the financial burden of maintaining the transportation network is borne by the central government. The driver leading the convoy was a Forte from Yumen. After retiring from the military, he became a long-haul driver. In the Yanese custom, I called him "Lao Meng", "lao" being a Yanese title that conveys both respect and seniority without formality. Lao Meng told me that thrifty foreign visitors like me are not uncommon, and most long-haul drivers can speak at least a few sentences in a foreign language. The convoy continued south until we reached the river, where we and our vehicles boarded a barge and traveled upriver against the current. On a night when the twin moons were not visible, the sound of the steam whistle woke me, and Lao Meng informed me that the boat was about to dock. Winter in the southwest of Yan is not cold; the locals in Shangshu pride themselves on their year-round spring weather, but the dampness still made my joints ache. Rubbing my knees as I stood on the deck of the barge, I looked out at the river, shrouded in white mist, and at the city nestled among the mountains, gazing down at me with a calmness quite different from the atmosphere in Lungmen.
Lung", who serves as the head of state. The Emperor's power is ensured through hereditary succession, maintaining a continuity of authority across generations. The Emperor represents the highest authority in Yan and governs the entire nation through the "Imperial Court"—a collective term for the central administrative institutions—and an extensive bureaucratic system that extends across the land. It is easy to draw parallels between Yan's Lung dynasty and Victoria's historical Draco monarchy, but such
a comparison is not entirely accurate. The Emperor of Yan and the Draco King of Victoria are quite different from each other, both historically and politically. According to records, Yan's history begins with the progenitor of eastern civilization—the House of Yan. Its leader, also the first "True Lung", was an enlightened leader who prioritized the welfare of the people over his own personal concerns. Even before he was known as "head of the House of Yan", he stood out among
The Yanese have made bold modifications to their environment. For instance, they built Shangshu's city plate right into the mountainside.
the tribal leaders. He led his people to safety from Catastrophes, helped them cultivate the land, and gained widespread support in return. At the same time, his equally remarkable wife created the ancient prototype of Yanese by synthesizing and refining the languages of other tribes. The overjoyed True Lung named himself "Yan" after the first character she created, which means "vigorous fire". This then gave birth to the "House of Yan". The hundreds of tribes that pledged loyalty to Yan became collectively known as the 'Hundred Clans' or 'baixing' (a hundred surnames), a term that the Yanese use to refer to themselves till this very day. Because the Hundred Clans pledged fealty to him, Yan more or less owned all the land in the country. When the True Lung redistributed the land to his loyal tribal leaders, they became his vassals. These vassals obeyed the True Lung's orders and paid tribute to his sovereign. With that, the nation of "Yan" was officially written into the Terran history books. However, years of hard work took a toll on Yan's health. He passed away prematurely, well before the relatively extended lifespan afforded by the Elder bloodline he bore could run its course. Yan's death plunged the country into chaos, and the feudal system collapsed as the vassals reignited wars over land. This marked the beginning of an era of unprecedented conflict, both militarily and ideologically—a significant period in history referred to by Yan's historians as the "Hundred Clan Rebellion". At the end of this century-long turmoil, the baixing welcomed a new True Lung. He defeated the vassals and established a new, unified Yan regime through bold reforms and a powerful military. The Yan government underwent many changes over the several millennia following the end of the Hundred Clan Rebellion.
The Emperor, the Cabinet, and the Six Ministries formed the Imperial Court, Yan's central administrative body. The Cabinet is composed of the Emperor's chief advisors who consult the Emperor on various issues and also directly participate in the decision-making process. The Six Ministries are the Ministry of Personnel, Ministry of Revenue, Ministry of Rites, Ministry of War, Ministry of Justice, and Ministry of Works. These ministries report directly to the Cabinet and are responsible for managing all aspects of Yan's affairs. Each ministry has three chief officials: A High Minister, and his two chief aides: the Assistant Minister of the Left and the Assistant Minister of the Right. Yan's main laws are written down in the "Law of Yan". This tome has six categories which correspond to the Six Ministries: Personnel, Revenue, Rites, War, Justice, and Works. The drafting of laws begins with the Cabinet and the Six Ministries, followed by discussions and approval by the Emperor and Cabinet ministers. The Regional Head Secretaries and the Chief Executives
■ Yumen, a fortress in the desert, is a critical border town.
The people here displayed a restrained curiosity about my presence. Because of their homeland's strong cultural traditions and the region's diverse mix of ethnic groups, the people here often define their identity by the community or region they were born in. In Yan, a shared place of origin fosters a deeper sense of camaraderie than racial kinship. Similar accents or the recognition of familiar place names can swiftly bridge the gap between strangers. When reviewing the notes I took on my conversations in Yan, I once again felt the care that lay beneath this curiosity; people uniformly hoped that their hometown would leave a good impression on a foreign visitor. From my perspective, the people of Shangshu are naturally warm-hearted, a trait reflected in the region's spicy cuisine. At the same time, they also exhibit a polite caution in social interactions, similar to that of their official Messengers, as if their words and actions are imbued with a responsibility to represent something larger. Each of my friends in Yan displayed a similar habit when conversing with me: they would pause during the conversation and trace characters in the air with their fingers. This gesture profoundly moved me. I love Yanese calligraphy and wish I could read it better.
■ While traveling in Shangshu, someone gave me a seal with my surname spelled out in Yanese characters. It's said that the ancient Yanese used similar small blocks to print books en masse.
Travel Journal
can also draft local regulations within their jurisdiction, but these must align with the Law of Yan and be approved by the Emperor and the Cabinet. Judicial authority in Yan is divided among the Ministry of Justice, the Department of Discipline and Supervision, and the Judicial Review Office, collectively known as the "Three Organs of Justice". Among them, the Ministry of Justice is responsible for trying cases, the Department of Discipline and Supervision and its subordinate Censorate oversee the bureaucratic system, and the Judicial Review Office is tasked with retrying wrongful convictions. Major cases or significant legal drafts are jointly handled by the Three Organs of Justice. A strong military is a crucial prerequisite for maintaining peaceful relations between Yan and her neighboring countries. Before the Crystal Age, Yan's military followed the Guard and Battalion system, in which military and civilian households
had different types of registrations. Soldiers and their families were stationed in specific locations according to military needs, under command of the Ministry of War. The Guard and Battalion system met Yan's long-term need for defense in specific zones, allowing the army to be self-sufficient. With the onset of industrialization during the Crystal Age, Yan's military system underwent fundamental changes, adapting to the evolving nature of warfare and updated defense requirements. The most significant reform was the abolition of military household registration, transforming the Guards and Battalions into military camps and replacing the old system with conscription. Although the conscription system increased military expenditures, it also paved the way for the professionalization of Yan's large army.
The Sui Regulator and the Imperial Astronomical Bureau are two distinctive institutions within Yan's governmental framework. Although they are formally subordinate to the Six Ministries, their significance is exceptional. The Sui Regulator is specifically responsible for all matters related to the bestial Sui and possesses a vast trove of information about Feranmuts. Its members, known as "Candleholders", lead all efforts to communicate with, monitor, and seal off these massive creatures. The Imperial Astronomical Bureau, beyond its general meteorological observations, is also in charge of Catastrophe forecasting across the entire territory of Yan. It dispatches Catastrophe Messengers nationwide and coordinates personnel and materials in affected areas. The Director of the Imperial Astronomical Bureau bears heavy responsibilities and, when necessary, can bypass all intermediary levels to ring the bell and report directly to the Emperor about impending Catastrophes.
A Yanese soldier stationed at Yumen.
I initially thought that examining Yan's political system would be a significant challenge, but Yan is, after all, not "Eastern Sargon". It lacks the intricate connections between lords ameer, padishahs, and local lords that would leave one overwhelmed. After the Hundred Clan Rebellion, the True Lung and the people came together to form a new civil bureaucracy which gradually replaced the old order of tribal leaders and vassals. I was fortunate enough to attend a lecture on the Law of Yan, delivered by a well-known storyteller. This eloquent raconteur narrated the story of The Six Cases in the Shangshu dialect. The story links six major legal cases, one for each of the six major laws of Yan. The plot is both engaging and enlightening. In the end, of course, justice prevails. With my friend serving as interpreter, I was able to appreciate the charm of this series of stories. This was far from my first exposure to foreign folk culture, but it was the first time I encountered folk art with such deep and fascinating social commentary. According to traditional Yanese custom, I should consider the author of this story my master. The Six Cases vividly illustrates the relationship between Yan's civil society, legal system, and bureaucracy, making it far more engaging and lively than my books full of dry, descriptive text.
The Six Cases
Travel Journal
If you want to learn about Yan's economy, look not to the factories within the cities, but to the roads and the Chidao outside the cities. By traveling along the Chidao, you can see how environmental conditions have shaped the placement of industries. This influence has not only created regional disparities but also affected the order in which different areas have developed. The central region between the two rivers, with its rich mineral deposits and water resources, became home to several manufacturing and mining centers during the industrial revolution of the Crystal Age. The humid southern region has been the nation's primary source of grains and raw materials since ancient times. It is famous for its high-quality tea and remains a prominent producer of traditional hand-icrafts. The northern coastal region, which developed later, has become an important trade hub. Cities like Lungmen, which were desolate borderlands, have since opened their doors to merchants, Messengers, and foreign businesses.
While traversing Yan's highways, you can also experi-ence how geography has helped shape its culture. Yan's vast landscape fosters a rich diversity in poetry, music, painting, calligraphy, and martial arts. Yan's southern and northern regions use different regional dialects in their poetry, and the eastern and western regions practice distinctly different martial arts techniques. Fortunately, in most regions of Yan, the cuisine is decidedly less spicy than that of Shangshu. These cultural elements are both a reflection of and a driving force in Yan's history. Yan has a rich, proud history and culture that I encourage everyone to explore.
How does Yan staff and maintain its bureaucratic system in such a vast, diverse country? It uses its imperial examina-tion to select new appointees. The imperial examination is the ticket to upward mobility for the common people, whether they aspire to work in the civil service, serve in the military, or become experts in Originium technology.
A Shouye Tianshi (or Instructor Tianshi, roughly equivalent in rank to a professor from the Victorian Institution for Higher Studies) told me that, "In Yan, Tianshis are both Originium experts and academic researchers, but they're far more than that." He continued, "The ancient Yanese philosophers said, 'We shall inherit the wisdom of the sages and bring everlasting peace to the world.' If we break down the title "Tianshi", "Tian" (Celestial) signifies their connection to the divine mandate, their understanding of the workings of the world, and their loyalty to Yan's court and people. "Shi" (Master) signifies their role as mentors and leaders, their expertise on Originium technology, as well as the esteemed position they hold in Yanese society. As a visionary leader, the first True Lung surrounded himself with wise advisors, seeking their counsel to solve the many challenges he faced. The first True Lung's advisors later split into two distinct groups: cabinet ministers, who served as political advisors, and the Tianshis of the Tianshi Bureaus, who specialized in Originium technology.
Those aspiring to join this elite class must first take the imperial examination. The Tianshi Bureau admission standards are stringent. Only those who demonstrate exceptional skill with Originium Arts and possess a high degree of adaptability and technical mastery may enter through its doors. Once they enroll, students become disciples of the Tianshis, spending several years, if not decades, in rigorous training.
Ultimately, they will showcase the fruits of their labor across Yan. Tianshi are the guardians of ancient Originium techniques and the pioneers of technological progress. Tumu Tianshis (civil engineers) designed the Lungmen skyline and the Shangshu suspension bridges. The Tianshis' Originium techniques are one of the pillars of Yan's military strength.
内勤 限乘当日当次车 2月16日 10:30开 032号座 尚蜀北 Shangshu North 玉门 Yumen A000108
Thanks to Yan's extensive transportation network and the Chidao, intercity travel across the wilderness is both comfortable and convenient.
In Yan, both the government and the general public have a relatively tolerant attitude toward those infected with Oripathy. It is not uncommon for capable Infected to be appointed to serve the imperial court. In most cases, the Infected live more or less normal lives. However, they are required to submit regular reports to the Minis-try of Revenue detailing their health status and recent activities. The affairs of the Infected in Yan are overseen by the Ministry of Revenue. Regional Head Secretaries and Chief Executives must follow the Ministry's guidance when handling local matters related to the Infected.
New Year's Eve is an extraordinary night. I secured my spot on the observation deck in advance, filled with anticipation. As the restless crowd erupted into cheers, sharp explosions rang out below me, and acrid smoke quickly engulfed the city streets. Tracers soared into the night sky with a whistle, illuminating the thin clouds with colorful bursts of light. The river flowed, smoke billowed, the people cheered, and bursts of color danced along with the city's lights on the waves. The southwest was more or less untouched during the ancient war, but Shangshu, like the rest of Yan, celebrates the permanent overthrow of the old year with these massive explosions.
According to legend, the festive New Year's traditions actually originate from a war between the Emperor and the gods. These gods were once allies of the Emperor's ancestors, but their indifference and arrogance towards the people angered the Emperor. The True Lung ordered the recruitment of warriors brave enough to hunt the gods and launched a full-scale war against them. The Emperor emerged victorious, albeit at great cost, putting the destiny of the nation back into the hands of the baixing. To celebrate the victory, and to prevent the exiled gods from returning to Yan, the weapons once used to fight the gods were added to Yan's annual New Year's celebrations.
I have never been able to find the origins of this legend in historical records; most published historical studies attribute its widespread dissemination to population migration in the two rivers region. But why has this oral folk legend remained consistent across all regions of Yan, preserved in the same form for thousands of years? If this legend represents some historical truth, then who exactly were the gods mentioned in the story? How did the ancient Yanese defeat them? How did the "weapons used to fight the gods" evolve into New Years firecrackers? I am but a foreigner, still trying to unravel Yan's many mysteries. Another bundle of questions, another unsolved riddle, I suppose this is Yan's parting gift to me.
Two Painted Dou (Food Vessel) with Sui Motive Pattern unearthed in Yan (patterns were restored). Some believe that the patterns on both vessels depict the "sealing of the gods". Such patterns are not common, and the practice of painting them on food vessels is relatively rare, suggesting that these two vases were likely used in a special ritual.
Travel Journal
On my way out of Yan, I passed through Lungmen once again. I hadn't planned to stay long, but the night before I was set to leave, I found myself unable to sleep. During my several months in Yan, I had accumulated a pile of handwritten notes, documenting my observations on Yanese politics, economy, history, and more. Yet, I had still not gained a full understanding of this remarkable nation.
Tossing and turning until 4:00 AM, I could already hear the fowlbeasts chirping outside the window. I decided to change my plans and stay in Lungmen for a few more days. An old friend of mine who resides in Lungmen helped me get in touch with a local history teacher named Ye. I hoped he could give me some insight into city life from a native's perspective.
We arranged to meet by the artificial canal in the evening. When I arrived, he was already waiting for me under a streetlamp, and he handed me a cup containing a skewer of grilled finballs. The wooden skewer had four small Yanese characters engraved at the top; mine said "Peace and Prosperity", and his said "Your Luck is Turning". But when I asked him if the engraved characters were some kind of Yanese custom or tradition, he smiled and said that it was just a marketing gimmick by the vendor. Master Tung's finballs at the central park are skewered with toothpicks, but they still sell well because of their craftsmanship.
The following is an excerpt from my conversation with him.
Ye: The city is awakened each morning by the cries of street vendors. By five or six in the morning, as the sky begins to lighten, finmongers and meat sellers are already pushing their carts in the market. If the restaurants in Lungmen want fresh ingredients, they have to get to the market when it first opens to stock up. As the market gets busy, the entire city comes alive. Souvenir stalls spring up, and breakfast carts hit the streets.
Erikson: Street vending is a fairly old-fashioned way of doing business. It's hard to imagine that in a highly modernized city like Lungmen, it still thrives so.
Ye: In recent decades, Lungmen's economy has undergone significant changes, but the street vendors have stayed much the same. To many Lungmenites, the street stalls are just as vital as the shopping malls, factories, and ports. People often say that Lungmen is a vibrant and inclusive city, and you can see these qualities in its street vendors. Take something as simple as these finballs. They give tens of thousands of citizens the energy to hit the streets of Lungmen every morning. They pump life into the city's veins. These stalls also provide many people in Lungmen with the basic means to make a living.
The finball skewers that Mr. Ye brought me. The finbeast meat had a firm yet chewy texture, achieved through repeated hammering. It was garnished with a peculiarly-flavored leaf. Interestingly, the finball stall's logo bears a subtle resemblance to Tung's.
Erikson: You mentioned that the economy has changed a lot recently. Can you elab- orate on that?
Ye: Well, let's look at all the shopping malls that have popped up over the last decade or so. These malls offer a vast array of goods, but they're much more than just places to shop. They provide diverse entertainment options and have become central to Lungmen's culture and daily life. Some malls host cultural events—concerts, folk activities, and the like. After the spread of the intercity net, malls started offering more modern forms of entertainment, like e-sports. in recent years, some unique 'cultural amenities' have been installed. A few days ago, I saw a 'public story machine'. With the push of a button, the machine dispenses a slip of paper with a short story on it, for free! However, these shopping malls are not exactly a groundbreaking innovation; rather, they are a different form of an ancient way of life.
Erikson: Do you mean that Lungmen has always had 'cultural centers,' with shopping and entertainment options, just in different forms?
Ye: One could say that these shopping malls are artificial replicas of what were originally natural, outdoor environments, concentrated under one roof. Before the spread of nomadic cities, most buildings in fixed settlements were only one, two, or at most, three stories tall. Residential homes were located in close proximity to each other, right next to the main shopping streets. You could lean out your window and immediately be immersed in the bustle of the market. Therefore, streets in Yan were not just roads for passage but also places for commerce, socializing, entertainment, and living. Nowadays, to adapt to the structure of nomadic cities, most residential dwellings have been rebuilt as high-rises. However, this hasn't led the Yanese to abandon their familiar way of life. In many residential areas, elevated shopping streets run through the middle floors of buildings. Rooftop shopping plazas or streets are also common. In some places, these elevated pathways are known as 'skyways'. These streets are lined with vendors selling various goods, as well as chess tables and fitness equipment for residents. Whether on the middle floors or rooftops, the elevation brings a breeze, but it never dampens the lively atmosphere.
Erikson: Wow. The streets of Yan are indeed bustling, both on the ground and in the air! What else is 'robust' in Yan, besides her booming economy?
Early Morning View of the Lungmen River
Ye: Well, around six in the morning, the high-speed ferries start churning down the river, and you can hear their horns echoing between the river banks. If you're lucky, you might even spot the armed escorts on the cargo ships. For those guards, enjoy-ing a breeze on the river during the last stretch of a long journey is a truly satisfying experience.
Erikson: Escorts? Sounds interesting. What do they do?
Ye: Well, armed escorts do similar work to regular Messengers—they trans-port goods and deliver letters—but at their core, they are entirely different. Escorts rely on kung fu to do their work, so many armed courier services have developed their own martial schools. Nowadays, in Yan, armed escorts no longer have to risk their lives by taking dangerous routes, so many of them have switched to different types of work. Some escort associations have diversified into side businesses, such as providing kung fu training for the film industry. However, many have shifted their primary business focus from Yan to international markets. After all, beyond the nation's borders, in the untamed wilderness, danger is never in short supply.
Erikson: Throughout my journey, I've encountered remarkable transportation infrastructure outside Yan's major cities. Could you tell me more about the inner-city transportation systems?
Ye: Lungmen has a population of nearly four million and is one of Yan's trade hubs. This puts immense pressure on its transportation system, but we've put things in place to alleviate that. Bulk goods that don't travel through Lungmen's main thor-oughfares can instead be transported via its outer beltway road or even by ferry. Most urban roads have dedicated bike lanes or bus lanes, and elevated highways and revers-ible lanes are also widely used.
Erikson: Was this artificial canal also built for that purpose?
Ye: Yes, the waterway does indeed relieve a lot of pressure on the transporta-tion system. During rush hour, you can even see small speedboats zipping across the river, carrying people who are running late. But there are probably other reasons why the canal was built too. The northwest is not only dry, but it also experiences drastic shifts in temperature between day and night. If you don't want to stay cooped up at home with the air conditioning and humidifier on, the riverside is always a good place to go. Once the primetime TV dramas end, many people head to the riverbank to take a walk, chat, or play. Of course, the scenery on the river is also quite nice. You should take the opportunity to watch the sunrise over the river—the water and the buildings along the shore reflect the sunlight like mirrors. Standing by the river, you feel the warmth; It's as comforting as a warm bowl of porridge on a winter morning.
On the day I left Lungmen, I followed Mr. Ye's advice and rented a boat to watch the sunrise on the river. As I watched the river bathed in golden light, I was momentarily dazed, feeling as if I had entered a magnificent golden palace. It wasn't until I heard someone catch a finbeast that I snapped back to reality. Seeing the angler on the bridge skillfully toss his fresh catch into a bucket, I realized that to him, this was just an ordinary river.