Chapter 31: Street Department and Qing Jiaotou, the Thriving Ancient City

Night fell. After counting the ticket stubs several times and locking them in the drawer, an exhausted Sun turned off the lights in the ticket booth. He and Xu Ping exchanged goodbyes, and his footsteps gradually faded away.

The scenic area's main gates closed, the turnstiles stopped operating, and the entire Ancient City fell quiet. There had been more tourists this afternoon than in the morning. By the end of the day, the ticket office had sold exactly sixty-one tickets—almost equaling a full week's volume back during the peak period when only Yongtong Bridge was open! This had kept Sun, the ticket seller, grinning from ear to ear all day long. However, everyone knew this was just the beginning.

The locked-up Ning'an Ancient City was so quiet it was almost eerie. After a busy day, Chen Yan didn't return to his office to rest and review the day's operations as usual. Instead, armed with a flashlight, he ventured out to Qinghe Street alone.

The street was completely deserted. The shops had closed their doors, their lattice panels tightly shut. Shopkeeper Li, Miss Yu the Third, and the other native residents had already turned in for the night. Yet, the faint candlelight seeping through the cracks in the door panels proved that there were indeed people inside. The entire street seemed as if it had been muted. The only sound was the gentle babbling of the water beneath Yongtong Bridge, accompanied by a rhythmic SWISH SWISH that occasionally reached Chen Yan's ears.

"Hmm?"

He was familiar with the sound of the water, but what was that rustling noise? He followed the sound to the bridgehead and shone his flashlight. Staring closely, he spotted a man bent over in front of Miss Yu the Third's stall, holding a bamboo broom with both hands and sweeping up scattered bamboo skewers and trash into a pile. The man wore a faded blue cloth shirt with frayed cuffs, cinched at the waist with an old cloth belt, and black cloth shoes on his feet. He looked to be under thirty, with slightly hollow cheeks and a thin frame that gave him a somewhat malnourished appearance.

"Greetings, Sir!"

Sensing the flashlight's beam, the man immediately set down his broom and bowed respectfully to Chen Yan.

"What are you doing here?" Chen Yan asked. Although he had already guessed the reason, it was still surprising to suddenly find someone sweeping the empty Qinghe Street.

Hearing this, the man cupped his hands again. "Reporting to you, Sir, I am Ma Qing, a constable of the Street Department. I'm in charge of sweeping this area. Have I disturbed your peace?"

"Not at all." Waving his hand, Chen Yan was now certain. Nine times out of ten, this Ma Qing was also a companion resident, with the clear-cut duty of sweeping the streets.

This suddenly reminded him of something: if the system even provided companion residents to sweep the streets, wouldn't Aunt Liu be out of a job? He shook his head, tossing aside the silly thought, and turned his attention back to the term "Street Department" that the man had just mentioned.

Lately, he had been looking through quite a few historical documents related to the Song Dynasty, and one of them had mentioned this. It stated that during the Northern Song period, there was already an officially established agency dedicated to managing urban environmental sanitation—namely, the Street Department. The Street Department had broad jurisdiction. Their responsibilities ranged from basic street sweeping and drainage of stagnant water, to road repairs and maintaining the city's appearance. They even managed traffic and cracked down on illegal structures. This department typically oversaw a professional force of hundreds of people. They were provided with standardized uniforms and salaries by the Government Office, but they held no official rank and functioned more like temporary workers. Ma Qing here was likely one of the most ordinary constables in the Street Department.

The only difference from a real ancient city was that this was a scenic area—and a small one that had only unlocked a beginner-level scene at that. As a Street Department constable primarily responsible for the hygiene of Qinghe Street, Ma Qing didn't have layers of superiors above him. In fact, the Street Department as an institution didn't even exist here. There was only Chen Yan, a boss acting as a one-man command center. It was only because the companion residents came with built-in cognition that they didn't question these irrationalities, automatically defaulting to Chen Yan as their direct superior. Otherwise, trying to explain why there was no Street Department in this city would take Chen Yan forever.

After chatting with the man for a bit longer to ensure his housing and meals were sorted out, Chen Yan thanked him for his hard work and continued his patrol.

As he crossed Yongtong Bridge, Ma Qing's sweeping grew fainter behind him. However, the street didn't return to silence. Instead, the sound of wooden cartwheels rolling over a gravel dirt road echoed from not too far ahead. Chen Yan swept his flashlight toward the source of the noise and froze.

A handcart loaded with several wooden barrels was slowly making its way toward him, pushed by a man who looked to be in his fifties. The man wasn't tall, but he had broad shoulders and a thick back. His muscular arms strained tightly against the sleeves of his coarse, short jacket. He had a large, square face and thick eyebrows. The heavy handcart seemed completely weightless in his grip as he pushed it right up to Chen Yan before stopping.

"Are you the Boss?" The man pulled a coarse cloth towel from his waist to wipe the sweat from his face and cupped his hands at Chen Yan. "I am Ding Qi. The neighbors all call me Old Ding. I'm the Qing Jiaotou for this street."

"Qing Jiaotou?" Hearing the term, Chen Yan frowned. But as a foul odor drifted over from the barrels on the handcart, he instantly understood what the man's job was.

"Thank you for your hard work. Keep at it, don't mind me."

Such a setting really wasn't suited for a conversation. Chen Yan only briefly chatted with him about his living situation, confirmed that he had his own place to stay just like Si and Ma Qing, and then cupped his hands in farewell.

As Old Ding pushed his handcart and gradually disappeared into the night, Chen Yan didn't venture any further. He stood in place, pondering for a moment, before turning around and heading back to the office. This street patrol had been quite rewarding. For the first time, he intuitively felt that a genuine ancient city—even just an inconspicuous street within it—was "alive." Every single aspect of it required dedicated people to manage and maintain.

Back in the office, after finishing his daily work log, Chen Yan took a shower, returned to his room, and fell asleep the moment he lay down on his broken wooden bed.

Three days later.

Over the next few days, the Ancient City's foot traffic increased by the day. On the first day of Qinghe Street's opening, only seven tickets were sold, but by the second day, that number surged to sixty-one. The third day was even more incredible. When it was time to tally the accounts in the evening, the hundred and twenty-eight tickets sold made Sun jump for joy. Even Uncle Zhang couldn't stop smiling, and for the first time, he didn't bring up the topic of unpaid leave to Chen Yan.

However, the growth rate of tourists was far faster than they had imagined. On the fourth day, the scenic area sold a hundred and sixteen tickets in the morning alone, and the total daily sales directly broke the two-hundred mark.

The fifth day happened to fall on a weekend. Even Chen Yan, the boss, was forced to act as an errand boy. He alternated between taking over for Sun at the ticket booth and helping Xu Ping exchange copper coins for tourists. He also had to take occasional strolls down Qinghe Street to prevent any accidents. After a full day of non-stop work, he felt like his legs were about to snap off from running around so much.

But tiring as it was, the Ancient City had finally escaped the crisis of bankruptcy and was now flourishing. Whether it was him, the boss, or his employees like Sun and Uncle Zhang, their hearts felt as sweet as honey. Every day, they were immersed in an atmosphere of exhaustion mixed with absolute joy.

Until... the weekend ended.