In the twenty-sixth year of the Guangxu reign, at summer's end on the Zhili Plain, a hot, dusty wind swept toward an escort convoy winding along the imperial road. The lead carriage stood out from the rest. Its body was made of forged iron, its rivets arranged like scales, and two bronze-colored steam pipes jutted from the carriage shaft, hissing rhythmically as the wheels turned. The curtain lifted, and Dai Jiuyuan leaned halfway out. Goggles hid most of his bronzed face, while sweat trickled from his temple through his thick beard.
