xymnovel Chapter 107 The Tyranny of Time: The Establishment of Standard Time
Chapter 107 The Tyranny of Time: The Establishment of Standard Time
In early summer in Xianyang, the afternoon sun lazily spills onto the newly paved asphalt road. The air is filled with the faint smell of asphalt and the fragrance of locust blossoms.
However, beneath this seemingly prosperous and orderly facade, a chaotic storm concerning "time" is quietly brewing.
The incident began with a "mishap" that will go down in history.
In May of the 39th year of King Zheng of Qin's reign, the first major east-west railway artery of the Qin Dynasty—the Xianluo Railway (Xianyang to Luoyang)—was fully opened. This steel behemoth carried the pride of the empire, with more than a dozen steam trains loaded with coal, grain, and passengers roaring past on the tracks every day.
However, just ten days after the road opened, an accident occurred.
At noon that day, the "First Emperor" express train, which departed from Xianyang, arrived at Hangu Pass Station on time according to the timetable. The train conductor glanced at the finely crafted, gold-plated pocket watch in his pocket; the hands pointed exactly to three-quarters of an hour at noon.
"Arrived on time!" The train conductor closed the watch cover triumphantly and directed the crew to begin unloading.
Meanwhile, another coal freight train from Luoyang was speeding towards Hangu Pass. The driver glanced at his pocket watch; it showed noon.
"Fifteen minutes until the junction, full speed ahead!" The truck driver sounded the horn and confidently sped into the one-way track section.
The problem lies with these two tables.
The clocks in Xianyang were calibrated using the sundial in Xianyang; the clocks in Luoyang were calibrated using the sundial in Luoyang. The two places are 800 li apart, and the difference in longitude causes the sun to rise at different times, which in turn means that "noon" in the two places is not the same time at all.
In the eyes of the driver in Luoyang, he still had fifteen minutes; but in the eyes of the train conductor in Xianyang, the freight train should have arrived long ago.
So, at that narrow bend in the valley, the two trains collided head-on like two stubborn bulls.
Although both vehicles slowed down and applied emergency brakes in advance due to obstructed visibility on the curve, avoiding a fatal accident, the two trucks still collided violently, the loud impact echoing through the valley and scattering the coal all over the mountainside.
This accident was like a resounding slap in the face to the nascent industrialization of the Qin Dynasty.
When the news reached Xianyang, Ying Zheng was furious.
The atmosphere inside the imperial study was oppressively suffocating. Zhang Han, the Minister of the Imperial Household Department, Hu Hai, the newly appointed Minister of Transportation, and the officials in charge of railway dispatch all knelt on the floor, not daring to utter a sound.
"This is the railway you built for me?" Ying Zheng slammed an accident report to the ground. "You spent hundreds of millions of dollars and mobilized hundreds of thousands of laborers, and all you got was for two trains to clash at Hangu Pass?"
Hu Hai shrank back, trying to explain: "Father, this...this is not my fault. There's nothing wrong with my carriage, there's nothing wrong with the road, it's...it's the heavens that are at fault."
"Is there something wrong with the heavens?" Ying Zheng laughed angrily. "You mean the heavens deliberately moved the sun's position?"
"No, no, no," Hu Hai quickly waved his hands, looking pleadingly at Wang Jianguo standing to the side, "Grand Preceptor, please be the judge. The sun does rise earlier in Luoyang than in Xianyang! The timing doesn't match, there's nothing I can do!"
Wang Jianguo adjusted his glasses, his expression serious. He walked to the huge map of the Qin Dynasty and pointed to the locations of Xianyang and Luoyang with his pointer.
"Your Majesty, the young master is right. This is indeed a problem of 'Heaven,' or rather, a problem of 'Earth.'"
Wang Jianguo explained, "The Earth is round and rotates from west to east. This means that places in the east always see the sun before places in the west. Luoyang is further east than Xianyang, so Luoyang's 'noon' (the sun's highest point) is about 45 minutes earlier than Xianyang's."
"In the past, people rode horses or carriages, which were slow, so the difference of 25 minutes was imperceptible. But now trains run fast, and the time requirements are precise down to the minute or even the second. If everyone travels according to the local 'local time,' a collision is inevitable."
Ying Zheng understood. This is yet another example of how technological advancements have forced institutional reforms.
"Then what should we do?" Ying Zheng asked. "Should I issue an edict to delay the sunrise in Luoyang?"
"We don't need to change the sun, just the clock," Wang Jianguo said decisively. "Your Majesty, we need to establish a unified time standard. Whether on the shores of the East China Sea or in the western deserts, all citizens of Great Qin must use the same time."
"This is called—the Qin Standard Time."
"Qin Standard Time..." Ying Zheng pondered these words, a glint of light flashing in his eyes. "Under the whole heaven, all land belongs to the king; on the shores of the land, all people are the king's subjects. Since the land and the subjects belong to me, then the time must naturally be determined by me as well."
"Granted! This matter will be entirely handled by the Grand Preceptor. I will ensure that every watch in the Qin Dynasty obeys the commands of Xianyang!"
With the emperor's decree, a revolution concerning time began in earnest.
First, there was the infrastructure. Wang Jianguo installed a huge bronze bell and a sophisticated water-powered armillary sphere (used for astronomical observation and time calibration) at the highest point of Xianyang Palace—the newly reinforced Zhaixing Tower. This place was named the "National Time Service Center".
Every day at noon, the bronze bell on the Zhaixing Tower will ring the moment the sun crosses the meridian of Xianyang.
"Thump—! Thump—! Thump—!"
The deep, resonant sound of the bell echoed throughout the city. But that wasn't enough; the sound traveled too slowly, and by the time it reached Luoyang, the daylilies would be cold.
At this time, the newly laid national telegraph network came in very handy.
In the time service center's computer room, dozens of specially trained "time signalers" sat upright, their fingers resting on telegraph keys. They would press the keys simultaneously the moment the first chime sounded.
"drop--!"
An invisible current, traveling at 300,000 kilometers per second, instantly spread to every county and railway station in the Qin Dynasty.
Luoyang Railway Station.
The stationmaster was staring intently at the telegraph machine in front of him. When the clear "beep" sounded, he immediately roared, "Check the time!"
On the platform, all the train attendants, drivers, and even onlookers pulled out their pocket watches or looked up at the clock in the square in front of the station and set the minute hand to exactly twelve o'clock.
At this moment, although the sun in Luoyang was already setting in the west, time in Luoyang was forcibly pulled back to noon.
This operation, which goes against the laws of nature, initially made many people feel uncomfortable.
In Linzi (Shandong), people are used to working at sunrise. But after the implementation of "Xianyang Time", they found that it was already bright at six o'clock in the morning and dark at six o'clock in the evening.
"What kind of mess is this?" An old farmer from Linzi complained, looking at the rising sun and then at the newly hung clock at the village entrance, which showed it was only 5 a.m. "The sun's already high in the sky, and the clock still hasn't woken up?"
But despite the complaints, no one dared to disobey. Because Ying Zheng had issued a strict order:
"All official institutions, railways, factories, and schools must use the Daqin Standard Time. Those who violate this rule will be punished for 'disobeying imperial orders'!"
Under the implementation of authoritarian rule, the chaos gradually subsided, and order began to be established.
The train timetable finally aligned. There were no more "head-on" incidents caused by time differences. Merchants found that agreed-upon delivery times became incredibly precise, eliminating the need to guess the time by looking at the sun as before.
However, the establishment of standard time was not just for preventing collisions; it fundamentally changed the way of life of the people of Qin at a deeper level.
A concept called "punctuality" has begun to spread like a virus.
In the past, the people of Qin had a vague concept of time. They would say things like "work at sunrise and rest at sunset," "the time it takes to drink a cup of tea," and "the time it takes to burn an incense stick." These expressions are full of freehand and casualness.
But now, time has become a cold, hard number.
Xianyang Textile Factory No. 1.
It was early morning, just as dawn was breaking. A large bell hung at the entrance of the massive factory building.
"Clang! Clang! Clang!"
The clock struck seven o'clock.
The female workers who were leisurely eating breakfast at the gate suddenly seemed to hear a bugle call to charge, threw down half a steamed bun, and rushed into the factory gate like madmen.
Because the factory rules state: if you are one minute late, you will be fined ten cents; if you are five minutes late, you will be fined half a day's wages.
"Hurry! Hurry! The door's closed!"
The gatekeeper ruthlessly pulled the iron gate shut, blocking several female workers who were running too slowly from entering.
"Sir, please make an exception! It's just a few steps away!" the female worker cried, her face contorted with distress.
"Look at your watch!" The old man pointed to the large clock above his head. "Seven o'clock and one. That's the rule. Your time doesn't belong to you; it belongs to the factory and to His Majesty."
This feeling of being "kidnapped" by time is suffocating for many people.
Li Si has been very irritable lately.
As prime minister, he used to come to work whenever he felt like it. Sometimes he would come early, sometimes late, and no one dared to tell him what to do. But now, in order to set an example, Ying Zheng has established a strict attendance system for all officials.
Every morning at eight o'clock, roll call is taken at the Qilin Hall.
On this day, Li Si was two minutes late because his carriage broke down (actually, he wanted to sleep in a little longer).
When he ran breathlessly into the main hall, he found Ying Zheng sitting on the dragon throne, holding a glittering gold pocket watch in his hand, looking at him expressionlessly.
"Li Si, you're late."
"Your Majesty... Your subject..." Li Si tried to explain.
"Two minutes," Ying Zheng interrupted him. "According to the 'Qin Civil Servant Attendance Law,' he will be fined three days' salary and publicly criticized throughout the court."
Li Si's face turned bright red, and he wished he could disappear into the ground. He, the dignified Prime Minister of Qin, second only to the emperor, had actually lost face in front of the entire court because of these mere two minutes.
"Your Majesty, isn't this watch... running too fast?" Li Si tried to make a last-ditch effort.
"This is an 'atomic clock' (actually a precision mechanical clock) personally calibrated by the Imperial Advisor, with an error of less than one second in ten years," Ying Zheng said coldly. "Li Si, you must learn to respect time. Time is fair to everyone; even I cannot hold it back."
From then on, Li Si became the earliest riser in all of Xianyang. Every day, before the rooster crowed, the lights in the Prime Minister's residence would be on. The people all said that the Prime Minister was "diligent in governing and loving the people," but only Li Si himself knew that he was forced to do so by that watch.
As "standard time" became more widely accepted, another industry experienced explosive growth—the watch industry.
In the past, clocks were tributes to royalty and luxurious toys. But now, they have become a necessity.
Workers need to check their watches before starting work, students need to check their watches before class, people need to check their watches when taking the train, and even when going to the market to buy groceries, people need to check their watches to catch the early market.
The Shaofu's clock factory was operating at full capacity, producing clocks of all grades day and night.
There are exquisite clocks hanging in the living room, which are the capital for nobles to show off; there are pocket watches hanging on the waist, which are the standard accessories for merchants and officials; and there are the cheapest "worker and peasant clocks" (which only have hour and minute hands, no second hand, and make a loud noise when they run), which are the "tightening headbands" that ordinary people buy to avoid being late.
As the "Chief Commercial Advisor of the Qin Dynasty," Zhao Gao naturally wouldn't let go of this opportunity to make a fortune.
He partnered with Liu Bang to organize a "Great Qin Famous Watches Exhibition and Sales Fair".
"Take a look! This is a limited edition 'Loongson' brand pocket watch! The watch cover is inlaid with a Dragon Pearl (glass ball) from the East China Sea! It keeps accurate time; wear it, and you'll be the master of time!"
Zhao Gao stood on the platform, spitting as he enthusiastically promoted a gleaming gold pocket watch.
"Lord Zhao, how much is this watch?" A wealthy merchant asked, his interest piqued.
"Not expensive! Only nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-eight!" Zhao Gao held up five fingers (it's unclear how he calculated that), "Buying the watch also comes with a beautiful watch chain! This is a symbol of status! Just imagine, when you pull this watch out of your pocket, 'snap' the watch cover open, that elegance, that composure, won't all those young ladies stare in disbelief?"
Under Zhao Gao's persuasion, the wealthy people of Qin readily opened their wallets. For a time, the streets of Xianyang were filled with the sound of ticking, as if the entire city had been put into a giant wind-up toy.
However, this precisely segmented life has also triggered some unexpected "side effects".
Epang Palace University, Department of Philosophy.
A young student sat under a tree, lost in thought. He stared at the constantly ticking pocket watch in his hand, his brow furrowed.
"What's wrong, Ziming?" his companion asked as he walked over.
"I'm thinking..." Ziming said quietly, "In the past, when we looked at the sun and the moon, we felt that time flowed and was warm. But now, time has been cut into segments. We are rushed by these segments, we have to rush to eat, rush to sleep, and even we have to check the time when we are daydreaming."
Are we the masters of time, or its slaves?
His companion paused for a moment, then laughed: "Why think so much? Let's go, the next class is the Imperial Preceptor's 'Advanced Mathematics,' we'll be punished for being late!"
Ziming sighed, put away his pocket watch, and hurriedly ran towards the classroom with his companion.
In this rapidly advancing industrial age, no one can stop to think, because the next ticking of the clock is already urging you on.
Epilogue: The Dialogue Beneath the Tower of Time
On New Year's Eve of the 40th year of King Zheng of Qin's reign.
Xianyang City was decorated with lanterns and colorful streamers, and firecrackers were being set off.
Ying Zheng ascended the Star-Picking Tower alone. A biting wind howled, but he seemed oblivious. He stood beneath the massive bronze bell, gazing down at the brightly lit capital city below.
In the distance, the faint sound of train whistles could be heard from the train station; nearby, the cheerful laughter of ordinary people could be heard from house to house.
"Little G".
[Hey, Zheng-ge. Happy New Year.]
"Another year has passed." Ying Zheng stroked the cold surface of the bronze bell. "Since this standard was established, I feel that time is passing faster and faster. What used to take a year to complete can now be done in a month. But I feel more and more anxious about it."
This is "modern anxiety," says Zheng Ge. When efficiency becomes the ultimate criterion, humans are alienated into cogs in a machine. However, this is also the price of civilizational advancement.
"The price..." Ying Zheng smiled bitterly, "Yes, I used this ruler to measure the world, and also to measure myself."
He raised his wrist and looked at the titanium alloy watch specially made by Wang Jianguo, which had a luminous function.
The hands are approaching twelve o'clock.
"Ten, nine, eight..."
Ying Zheng counted silently in his mind.
"Three, two, one."
"when--!!!"
The New Year's bells rang.
The sound traveled across thousands of miles of territory in an instant via radio waves.
On the Great Wall in the northern frontier, Meng Tian raised his wine cup and toasted towards the south, saying, "Long live Your Majesty!"
On his warship in the East China Sea, Xu Fu looked at the compass and ordered a course adjustment: "In the new year, continue eastward!"
In a factory in the south, workers stopped what they were doing and greeted each other with "Happy New Year!"
At this moment, no matter where they are, whether it is day or night, hundreds of millions of people in the Qin Dynasty are all at the same point in time, welcoming the arrival of a new era together.
Standing atop the tower, listening to the resounding bells echoing between heaven and earth, Ying Zheng's anxiety gradually subsided, replaced by an unprecedented surge of pride.
"Time is a tyrant, but I am the First Emperor."
"As long as I run fast enough, time cannot catch up with me."
He abruptly flicked his sleeve, turned around, and walked down the tower.
"Jianguo, the court session will begin promptly at eight o'clock tomorrow morning. I have a new plan to announce."
"As you command."