The Tale Never Ends - novelonlinefull.com
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"In those days, we use fishing poles to catch fish and a snare called Ti–Yes, the same Ti that means 'hoofs' in Chinese–to trap wild hares. To put it simply, it's just a basket that we leave in the water during daytime and by nightfall, we can easily expect to find any haul in the baskets," Mr. Zhang explained while drinking.
This is the difference between university students of the past and college students like us today! They were actually imparted true knowledge while we were only trained to pa.s.s exams... The significance of their qualification could not be adequately equated with ours...
Aunt Fen raised an arm and silence immediately fell upon us. "I suggest here's how we should go on. Let's split up into three groups. The first group will first start with the Bian family burial grounds. The next group will begin searching along the river for the highland where the dud was hidden. Coordinate with this Master Six and Chen Yixuan's route for a better clue of where it can be. And the final group will investigate the few bridges on the river! Keep in touch!" Mr. Zhang added enthusiastically, "There's only one car now. I'll arrange for two more cars. It will be better because one of them is a four-wheel-drive for you to better traverse the uneven terrain along the river."
The next morning, our investigations began with us separating into three groups: Edelweiss and I would begin our search for the Bian family burial grounds, and Chongxi would investigate the bridges nearby. Being a native of these areas, Lin Feng would be most suited to look for the dud's hidden place in those mounds and hills.
Right after splitting up, I switched on my phone and activated the map app. With the convenience of the information from the app, we began our search for any villages that might bear the name Bian of Bian Family and found one. Filled with hope, we sped confidently towards there but only to find that it was almost 2.5 miles away from Yahong Bridge! But the burial grounds were supposed to be just near the village! We then asked around, hoping to find some other clues. Finally, a merchant told us that a village, although not named Bian, had a great number of families with that surname.
Nevertheless, knowing that it could be an important clue, we went to the village that the merchant had pointed us to. When we went there, after asking around, we found out that the village cemetery was just outside the little hamlet. But to our dismay, it was nowhere near any river! Devastated, I stood frozen with shock and disbelief and an old lady saw us. She was sitting on a large rock just beside the dirt road of the village, sitting in the morning sun. Seeing that we were strangers, she asked, "Hey, you two! Who are you? I have not seen you here before! Are you looking for relatives or someone you know?"
We went to her and told her that we were searching for a Bian family or any villages that might carry that name. She thought for a moment, then she said, "There used to be a Bian family village not far from Yahong Bridge. But it is so old that not many people remember about it now. I bet only the older folks might have heard about it. It should be somewhere in North-West of the town of Yahong Bridge, if my feeble memory still serves!"
“Heavens! She's right!” I realized instantly. The tale of Bian Dashou took place during the fall of the Ming Dynasty, just before the rise of the Qing Empire. That would have put the incident at least two or three centuries before! The village which now comprised of Bian Dashou's descendants would now be at least a century old! For all we know, no one could even tell us if Bian Dashou had lived there! Only the older folks might still know something about him!
With that revelation, we traveled in the direction of North-West from the town of Yahong Bridge and reached a place called Gao Qiao–or also, Tall Bridge. It was also about 2.5 miles from Yahong Bridge, well out of the vicinity of Yahong Bridge. But the rapid development from both areas now filled their distance with buildings, apartments, and hovels that no one would realize that this place was well beyond the boundaries of Yahong Bridge town. We looked for an old man, hoping that we had finally found our target, and he yelped with a surprised and confused look, "Ah!?" Thinking that he might have remembered something, I pressed with another question, "Do you remember any notable landmarks here or anything else here that was from the old Yahong Bridge town?" He stopped and took a few paces back, studying me intently, before he said at last, "You might wanna check the bus stations or expressway rest areas! You're that boy from the paranormal investigation agency on TV, right? Come on! Let's take a picture!" He took out his mobile phone and would not allow me to leave unless I took a picture with him.
We left the town and went to the nearby expressway rest area and spoke to many of the villagers that lived nearby. Finally, we found an old man who told us that the last Bian family village had changed its name. It was now a mere settlement with barely a few families, hence not many people heard of it. It was one of the five villages that joined into a local production brigade. Lastly, he bade us go somewhere near the Tangjin Expressway south of here.
And so we journeyed south this time and finally found several families with the surname Bian. But to our horror, their ancestral burial grounds were nowhere near the river too! For an entire day, we had been traveling in all directions all for nothing! A quick glance at the time told us it was already five in the evening. Dejected by the forlorn failures, we then decided to return to the Center and call it a day.
We met Chongxi, who told us about his end of the search. There were two bridges but they were all brick and mortar bridges built in recent years! Lin Feng was the latest to return to the Center. He came through the doors with a face sagged with fatigue and weariness. For tens of kilometers he had been driving through fen and forests, and the highest ground he had found were merely concrete dikes that towered seven to eight meters over the water. The rest were low marshlands left after the huge floods. Along his way, he had also found two cemeteries that hugged closely to the river banks. But after talking to the neighborhood, he was told that the cemeteries were public burial grounds, not the ancestral burial grounds that we were looking for! With that, all of our leads had come to nothing!
With enough disappointments for a day, we could not have been more morose and sorrowful. Even Edelweiss could not help feeling sad after seeing us. We went home after dinner and I, still battered by the successive letdowns, switched on my computer and began looking in Baidu, still clinging to that last fragment of hope that the Internet might be able to yield something that we failed to find.
It was a blog that I found some information on the history of Yahong Bridge. But with no contact details listed on the site, all I could do was register myself as a subscriber of the blog to message the owner. Fortunately, a reply came as speedily as I could barely believe myself. It appeared that the owner was also an avid writer who checked his site regularly. We exchanged contact details and he later told me that he reposted the article from a Wu Zhong forum. A glimmer of hope sparkled amidst the gloom of despair as I immediately asked for the link to that forum.
But my hopes were quickly dashed when he said that the forum was closed down due to some irreconcilable differences between some of its members. All that the blogger knew about the original author of the article, was that he was a historian who had spent more than a decade of his life quietly delving into the past of Yahong Bridge. But it was a pity that the blogger didn't know his contact.
I turned off my computer. When I turned, Edelweiss was already half-asleep with her head on my shoulders, her drowsy eyelids already falling to a close. It was already ten at night, I saw the clock. She must be tired after our search all day. I was in no shape to carry her to the bed, but she might still be able to carry me. I tapped her gently and slowly helped her to the bed. Then I placed a call to Mr. Zhang.
"Mr. Zhang, I found something from a friend that I just made online..." And I told him what I found online, specifically that historian. Then, there was a silence lull from the other end of the line. Mr. Zhang pondered for seconds before saying, "I might have heard of him before. If he's the same man I know, I don't think he's from Yahong Bridge, more likely the Yangjiatao in the North. But don't worry about it! I'll handle it!"
The next morning, Mr. Zhang contacted me. He had found the historian but the latter was busy. Apparently, the historian was engrossed in some work involving some calligraphy script used by ancient tomb markers and he could not come to Wu Zhong. Mr. Zhang urged us to go to him instead and it was best that we step on to it.
We scrambled into our car and took off with Mr. Zhang to meet with the historian. He was cheerful and warm to receive us when we met the elderly expert who heard that a bunch of young men was interested to know more about the history of Yahong Bridge. That filled with renewed vim and verse as he embarked on his tale. (The following information is referred from the works of historian Zhang Zhenjiang)
Yahong Bridge first came into prominence because of the great bazaar that farmers and peasants flocked to since early history. There was no definite information on how the great bazaar came to be, only that it was one of the largest marketplaces due east of the capital and there were records that it originated as early as the Ming Dynasty, in the third year of Jiajing Emperor's reign from traveling markets that moved markets moved from town to town with each on a designated day on every month, beginning from Yahong Bridge on the fifth and tenth days of each month, Gaoqiao town on the second and seventh days, the town beside Xixuan Lake on the third and the eighth days, Zhushuwu town on the fourth and ninth days, and Qianjiagou village on the first and sixth days. The venues of the markets were about 3 miles away at each stop and mostly were characterized by small scale and scattered distribution, catering to 120,000 people in the entire county in those days.
By the twentieth year of Kangxi Emperor's reign, the names of Gaoqiao town and the town beside Xixuan Lake were all but faded. The traveling markets were traveling no more and Yahong Bridge became the center where the great bazaar would remain indefinitely. With the population boom during the two centuries when emperors Kangxi and Qianlong ruled, commerce and trade grew exponentially around Yahong Bridge and more and more traders came after hearing its name. Before long, Yahong Bridge became a bustling market city that sprawled for tens or even hundreds of miles wide.
The grand bazaar of Yahong Bridge endured four great economic climaxes and four downturns as well during its three hundred years of activity. Its first climax occurred during the reign of Tongzhi Emperor of Qing when more and more cotton farmers began to appear by the banks of Huan Xiang River. By the tenth year of Guangxu Emperor's rule, the cotton industry began to boom with numerous families in the southern parts of the county making fabric. The products of the county ranged from common rough spun to cotton yarn and cotton fabric too. Their products were sold across the country, all with the help of the growing river trade and land trade. The Huan Xiang River was connected to Tianjin City and the Jing-Hang Grand Ca.n.a.l through the river trade network and trade caravans covered as far as the pa.s.ses of the Great Wall, then the Lengkou Pa.s.s and the Xifengkou Pa.s.s, reaching even Chifeng City as well as other settlements in Inner and Outer Mongolia. In the East, the trade network extended to Shanhai Pa.s.s and reached the three northeast provinces of China. Like a spider's webs, the complex circuitry of Yahong Bridge's economic upsurge filled the air of the trade city with constant ringing bells of camels and the swishing of paddles in the water. In the early years when Jiaqing Emperor first took the throne, there were records indicating the famous Sam Sing Kung Temple needed repairs, and then a total of seventy-four enterprises, from large to even greater manufacturing giants, donated vast amounts of money for the restoration. Of all the enterprises which had contributed, there were many large enterprises like oil manual workshops, producers of noodles or vermicelli, wine breweries, vinegar breweries, fabric manufacturers, silk weavers, p.a.w.nbrokers, banks, and so on.
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