This is his understanding, but after all, the point in time when things diverged was only a few decades ago, so there are still many things that haven’t changed much.

Many things recorded in the historical books of his previous life have basically been preserved here, such as language, customs, and so on. In other words, the world is still largely the same world.

Linqing City began construction of its brick city walls during the Jingtai era of the former Ming dynasty. The prefectural office, military defense office, garrison office, academy, Censorate branch, and the Ministry of Revenue’s regional office were all located within the brick city.

During the Hongzhi era of the former Ming, as canal transport flourished, merchants and migrants flocked in, making the limited space inside the brick city increasingly crowded. Soon, merchants and travelers coming from the north and south began to spread out in the area between the brick city and the canal, relying on the surroundings of the brick city to expand and develop, quickly forming a Linqing marketplace several times larger than the brick city itself.

In the Zhengde era of the former Ming, when Liu Liu and Liu Qi’s rebellion broke out in Shandong, in order to protect the increasingly prosperous Linqing marketplace, an earthen wall was built outside the brick city, connecting with the brick city to form a single entity.

After the founding of the Great Zhou, when Emperor Guangyuan ascended the throne, he immediately followed the example of the Ming Yongle Emperor by moving the capital to Beijing and designating Jinling as the Southern Capital.

Thus, Linqing City became a key location for the storage and transfer of southern grain transported north by water, and together with Jining and Dezhou, became one of the three major transfer hubs in Shandong.

The three top-tier water granaries—Guangji Granary, Linqing Granary, and Changying Granary—stretched for several li, and with the establishment of the customs office, Linqing City became the foremost major city in Shandong.

Section Two: I Don’t Understand the Era of the Red Chamber’s Great Zhou

The old residence of the Feng family in Linqing was located in a cross alley off Yongqing Street, just outside the old brick city, occupying half the street.

The spirited horse that had dashed out earlier had headed north, but it was unclear where it was going to deliver a message.

The Great Zhou followed the regulations of the former Ming, establishing a garrison in Linqing. But as the Great Zhou had been established for nearly a century, military discipline had slackened. The Linqing garrison was nominally over five thousand strong, but with most military households having long since moved outside the brick city and become indistinguishable from civilian households, there were only two or three thousand left.

Moreover, the practice of keeping “dead souls” on the payroll had become the main source of income for the garrison officers to support their families.

“Uncle Philip, is something going to happen? Uh, it can’t be serious enough to involve soldiers and weapons, right?” Brian Brooks immediately became nervous.

He had only been in this time and place for a few days. To be honest, after just a few days, he really hadn’t figured out many specifics about this world.

Other than knowing in broad strokes that this Great Zhou dynasty had followed the general trajectory of the former Ming, everything else was a muddle in his mind—he couldn’t make sense of it.

Even if he had truly traveled back to the Ming dynasty, how much would he really understand? Did he really think that just by flipping through the “History of Ming,” reading a few books like “Those Ming Dynasty Things” and “1587, A Year of No Significance,” he could become a Ming person?

The Great Zhou followed the regulations of the former Ming; whether in the bureaucracy or the military system, there was basically little change. In Brian Brooks’s view, the difference between the Great Zhou and the Ming was more like the difference between the Southern Song and the Northern Song—some changes, but mostly a direct continuation.

The Great Zhou had basically inherited the territory and system of the former Ming. Except for the years when the founding emperor of Zhou established the dynasty, the rest seemed to have little difference from the former Ming. Even the civil and military official systems were simply taken over as a whole.

But without a doubt, these three months of observation had still brought Brian Brooks many insights, especially this trip from the capital to Linqing to attend his father’s funeral, where he saw many things he had never seen before.

The Great Zhou dynasty had been established for less than a hundred years, but already there were signs of decline.

Civil officials were complacent, military officials indulged in pleasure, and it was said that the Mongol Tatars and Jurchens in the north frequently harassed the border regions.

Although it was not yet a major problem, according to Brian Brooks’s limited memories of the late Ming, if the general course of history didn’t change, it seemed that in twenty or thirty years, there would be big trouble, right?

Uh, and it seemed that the trouble wouldn’t just be at the border; it should be in Shaanxi as well, right?

Thinking of this, Brian Brooks couldn’t help but shiver again. He was not even twelve years old—was he really going to encounter such things? And with no power to resist?

He still wanted to be a bit of a playboy, to truly experience the life of a privileged person in the feudal era—openly having three or four wives and concubines, living a life where food and clothes were brought to him. Why couldn’t things go his way just once?

“Hmph, that’s hard to say. I heard this Chang Banban’s reach is long—he even dares to touch the grain tax, let alone the fact that he’s collecting taxes by imperial order. Who would dare provoke him?”

Philip Brooks was clearly well-traveled and knew the ways of these palace tax supervisors.

“In the capital, they restrain themselves a bit, but once they leave the city, with the mountains high and the emperor far away, who can stop them? Even the Dragon Guard has to give them some leeway.”

The Dragon Guard was actually the Jinyiwei of the previous dynasty.

When the Great Zhou was founded, the founding emperor abolished the Jinyiwei, Eastern Depot, and Western Depot, merging them into the Dragon Guard. But among the people, the old names from the previous dynasty were still commonly used.

Moreover, the Dragon Guard’s uniforms still followed the previous dynasty’s flying fish robes and embroidered spring knives, only adding the fish-scale sword as a weapon for officers above the rank of commander. The changes were minor, and over time, even the Dragon Guard itself accepted “Jinyiwei” as its popular name among the people.

Brian Brooks was timid, but still tried to remain calm.

Although this body had practiced martial arts since childhood, after all, it was only an eleven-year-old’s frame. If he really encountered chaos, he’d probably have no way out.

“Then, Uncle Philip, about our old residence…”