Even in the sweltering heat of midsummer, there can be cool mornings. The early-rising sun was blocked by the tall buildings to the east. In the community’s courtyard, a through-draft blew from north to south, wandering between the apartment buildings and the small woods.
Though it was long past his usual breakfast time, Lin Song wasn’t hungry at all. All told, sixteen hours had passed since last night’s dinner. Perhaps due to the heat, he still had no appetite.
Last week, Lin Song had discovered a screw embedded in his right rear tire. The slender screw had likely been sitting snugly in the rubber for some time. After finding it, he had topped up the air in the slowly leaking tire. For the past ten days or so, the dashboard had not flashed its “Tire Pressure Low” warning again.
However, a sense of unease would rise in him every time he started the car. While driving, he would unconsciously press the check button to his left every so often, confirming the tire pressure readings. Although the alarm hadn’t sounded for over ten days, Lin Song hadn’t let his guard down.
Today was the date designated by a client for reconciling accounts. Lin Song had to deliver last month’s invoices. He washed his running clothes from yesterday, then drove Xiao Li to Liuduqiao for a game of mahjong, and as a result, he missed the client’s morning office hours. The client had a long lunch break, and the purchasing department wouldn’t be back until two in the afternoon.
Lin Song pondered how to kill the next two hours. It was the perfect opportunity to go to the repair shop and get that screw dealt with.
He vaguely remembered that the last time he had a tire patched, the mechanic mentioned two options: a standard patch and a mushroom plug. A standard patch was 30 yuan. But his car had been punctured three times in the past year, and each time the mechanic had recommended the mushroom plug. In truth, he hadn’t felt any significant difference between it and a standard patch.
Lin Song drove the car into the service bay, turned off the engine, placed the key in the cup holder, and got out. He spoke to the owner who came to greet him.
“Master, I need the right rear tire patched.”
Master Zhan, from behind the counter, walked over, circled the car, and bent down for a look.
“Have you checked it?” “There’s a screw in it, a slow leak.”
Master Zhan jacked up the car, removed the tire, and pointed at the screw. “Well, this will definitely leak.”
“Yes, it has been for a few days. A standard patch will be fine.” “Ah, we don’t offer a warranty on a standard patch. If it starts leaking again when you’re on the road, that’s not on us.” “Oh. In that case, let’s go with the mushroom plug.”
Lin Song, fearing he’d be stranded on the highway by a ruptured tire just to save 50 yuan, gave in to the mushroom plug.
It took Master Zhan twenty minutes to patch the tire and even check the dynamic balance. Lin Song grabbed a complimentary bottle of water from the counter and spent an hour scrolling through his phone in the air-conditioned waiting room.
When he went to the client’s office, they were already back to work. The car’s dashboard now displayed a new message: “Next service due in 2 weeks.”
A thought suddenly struck Lin Song. Back in his day, Zhu Di had waited for the Ming Dynasty to get past its “break-in period,” then skipped the “routine maintenance” and gave the entire dynasty a “major overhaul.”
It is said that the second emperor of the Ming Dynasty, Zhu Yunwen, had the same flat-shaped head as his grandfather, Zhu Yuanzhang. In 1392, when Zhu Yuanzhang was 64, his 38-year-old crown prince, Zhu Biao, passed away. With the position of heir vacant, Zhu Yuanzhang went against the principles of his own Ancestral Injunctions, which stipulated that “a son born of a concubine, though he may be the eldest, cannot be installed,” and named his 15-year-old grandson by a secondary consort, Zhu Yunwen, as the new crown prince. This was the beginning of Zhu Yuanzhang’s betrayal of his own ideals. He had conquered the lands to build his enterprise, only to choose a weak successor for himself. The emperor’s word was law, but in doing so, he planted the seeds of trouble for the Ming Dynasty’s future.
Just two years after Zhu Yuanzhang’s death, the 22-year-old Zhu Yunwen had been on the throne for barely a year. Only thirty-three years had passed since the founding of the dynasty. It was then that his fourth uncle, the Prince of Yan, Zhu Di, went to war with him. The conflict lasted three years.
The Jianwen Emperor Zhu Yunwen’s front-line commander, Li Jinglong, upon whom he heavily relied, opened the gates of the capital Nanjing and surrendered when Zhu Di laid siege to it, leading directly to the collapse of the Jianwen regime. This Li Jinglong was a classic example of “if you can’t beat them, join them.”
After ascending the throne, the Yongle Emperor, Zhu Di, refused to recognize the legitimacy of the Jianwen Emperor. He ordered the destruction of historical records from the Jianwen era and revised the Veritable Records of Taizu (Zhu Yuanzhang) on three separate occasions.
In usurping the throne, wasn’t Zhu Di just using the “second-hand” Ming Dynasty that Zhu Yuanzhang had founded? He seemed to use it quite comfortably, though, casually commissioning the Yongle Encyclopedia to “show off his cultural achievements.” In the end, it was all just the messy family business of the Zhu household.
On the way to a tutoring class, a mother nagged her dawdling child:
“Even if you want to go play, you still have to finish your homework.” “I’ll play first, then I’ll do my homework when I’m done.” “You won’t be able to relax and have fun if your homework isn’t done.” “Well, if there were no homework, I could relax and have fun just fine.”