This route mainly led westward to places like Tangzhou and Dengzhou in the southwest of the capital, with no waterways available. The western section, known as the Horse Path, was rugged and difficult to traverse. Large shipments of goods could only rely on animal power, or even on hiring local able-bodied men to carry them on their shoulders or backs.

After crossing the river to the west bank, you would arrive at the military fortress.

A stone fortress, three hundred paces square, with the words “Huaiyuan Patrol Office” engraved above the gate facing the river; the locals customarily referred to this place as the military fortress, while in official documents it was also called the Huaiyuan Patrol Fortress.

In addition to the patrol office and barracks, the post station was also located within the fortress.

Andrew Smith was two years older, and Henry Smith was still two months shy of turning sixteen, but James Smith kept both of them by his side.

All affairs of the patrol office depended on the local area, and Gregory Dean was not too harsh on subordinates like James Smith; there was no shortage of food for Henry Smith in the fortress.

At this moment, James Smith arranged for Andrew Smith and Henry Smith to escort Brian Walker and the others to the post station first:

“The post station is just ahead. Andrew Smith, you and Henry Smith take Master Walker and the others over first. Once I’ve reported back at the office, I’ll come pay my respects to Master Walker!”

……

……

The post station didn’t cover much ground, about three mu or so, with weeds growing along the top of the courtyard wall.

Entering through the main gate, the first courtyard was the postmaster’s office.

The postmaster, Ethan Clark, was not in the courtyard; only two elderly post attendants, both former auxiliary soldiers, sat in front of the veranda basking in the sun. Andrew Smith, impatient with the attendants’ slow movements, left Henry Smith to help unload the cart and ran off to find Ethan Clark.

Brian Walker held no official position, but he had been demoted to reside in Tangzhou, with the intention of being monitored locally. After all, it was not exile or penal servitude.

After leaving the capital, he had to report to Tangzhou within a set time, and the local authorities there were responsible for supervising him and taking care of his daily needs; along the way, the post stations were also required to provide him with shelter and hospitality.

The postmaster, Ethan Clark, was in charge of receiving and sending off guests—a petty official of the lowest rank. All the officials and gentry passing through at this time strutted about arrogantly, and he had to put up with them all; but when demoted officials stayed at the post station, he would not neglect them either.

Ethan Clark was fond of a little drink in his daily life, regardless of the hour, pouring wine into a teapot, reading, writing, painting, and taking a sip whenever he had a moment. He had Andrew Smith fetch him, and first took the official letter from Brian Walker.

Henry Smith unloaded the cart and parked it in the front yard. He was about to lead the horse to the stable behind the post station when he caught a glimpse of the official letter, which stated that Brian Walker had been stripped of his office and demoted to Tangzhou for the crime of “disrespect.”

He was puzzled:

Before his demotion, Brian Walker had been the Vice Censor-in-Chief, one of the very few people in the current era qualified to be called “Master.” In theory, aside from the emperor himself, even if he offended the current chief ministers or princes, he wouldn’t be charged with “disrespect.”

Brian Walker could only have offended the emperor or the empress dowager in word or deed to be convicted of “disrespect.”

However, Henry Smith didn’t believe the current emperor would send assassins after Brian Walker. If he truly wanted him dead, there would be no need for such roundabout measures. Thinking it over, it was more likely that Brian Walker had offended some powerful figure at court, who seized the opportunity to drive him out of Bianjing.

Although most of the memories in his mind had already faded, the fact that Henry Smith could analyze the situation this way didn’t seem like the thinking of a sixteen-year-old boy.

Could it be that he really was a wandering soul from a later era who had inexplicably come to this world?

Leading the horse to the stable, lost in thought, and adding some fodder, Henry Smith finally returned to the front yard.

It was just past noon. Andrew Smith had already taken Brian Walker and the others to rest in a small side courtyard at the northeast corner of the post station, and the postmaster Ethan Clark was instructing an elderly attendant to arrange a meal for Brian Walker and his party.

“Do we have to serve wine too?” the attendant asked somewhat reluctantly.

Different officials passing through the post station were subject to different standards of hospitality:

When people of high rank and power passed through, local officials and gentry would rush over to host banquets and curry favor; for those demoted or exiled, when they stayed at the post station, apart from being given enough coarse grain to fill their stomachs, at most they’d get a small bowl of pickled vegetables with their meal.

For the lunch arranged by postmaster Ethan Clark for Brian Walker and the others, in addition to a bowl of cured meat, a bowl of vegetables, and half a fat goose, he even wanted to send over a warmed pot of wine. No wonder the old attendant was surprised.

Henry Smith also knew that the post station’s funds all came from allocations by the Miyang County yamen. There were no other sources of income, and some of it even had to be skimmed off to supply Ethan Clark with his wine. Now, with this over-standard hospitality for Brian Walker, it was no wonder the staff were reluctant.

“Master Walker offended the Privy Envoy Travis Carter and was demoted to Tangzhou. All the scholars under heaven sigh in regret, and you, you dog-eyed scoundrel, begrudge a pot of wine? Fine, I’ll just give up drinking for two days so you can balance the accounts,” Ethan Clark scolded.

Ethan Clark was a petty official of the lowest rank, yet counted among the scholars.

All official correspondence from various places had to pass through the post station, so he was actually more aware of Brian Walker’s demotion to Tangzhou than lower-ranking military men like James Smith.

The Privy Envoy Travis Carter?

Only now did Henry Smith realize who Brian Walker had offended to be demoted to Tangzhou.

Henry Smith was not particularly familiar with current affairs, but from listening to James Smith and the patrol office soldiers brag, and from occasional hearsay, he knew that the Privy Envoy was respected on par with the lesser and grand chancellors, and that Travis Carter was an extremely powerful figure in the current court.

And with Travis Carter in charge of military and state affairs, if he truly wanted to eliminate political enemies by violent means, the number of death warriors at his disposal would far exceed that of the prime minister.

No wonder Gregory Dean was in such a hurry to leave the fortress.