Chapter 62

Chapter 62

The territory of Dayu is vast. Since the founding emperor, it has been a strong country for over three hundred years.

From Yujing to Jiangnan, Rong Tang has seen the majestic Danxia landforms with its stacked hills and towering stone forests, as well as the vibrant grasslands stretching as far as the eye can see.

Then, passing through the scenic Huizhou, he settled temporarily in the misty and ripple-filled Suzhou.

Traveling on official roads, all he sees are the beautiful landscapes and peaceful lives of Dayu’s people. The tragedies and darkness that shouldn’t be seen by the world are buried beneath the earth and hidden in prisons, away from the light of day.

Now, after the heavy rains in Suzhou, Huaijing takes Rong Tang out from Lin Garden, witnessing the city walls and homes ravaged by floodwaters.

Everywhere, there are collapsed houses and damaged roofs.

The government quickly cleared the roads after the rain stopped, but there are still frozen cats, dogs, and even babies and elderly wrapped in straw mats seen in corners.

The porridge in Lin Garden tastes good, but as Rong Tang walks, he feels his stomach churning relentlessly.

He knew there would be deaths, unavoidable despite all the preparations, the shelters opened for refugees, the doctors and security personnel urgently recruited. Still, it was impossible to save everyone.

Rong Tang feels an uncontrollable chill, the vivid emotions stirred up by Huaijing in the morning completely vanishing. There are still puddles on the road, and with each step he takes, he feels as if the world is spinning.

Huaijing firmly holds Tangtang's hand, speaking to him at intervals as they walk.

“The situation is much better than expected. Initially, it was thought that two to three percent of Suzhou's population, about 130,000 people, would be affected by the disaster. According to historical flood records, approximately 130 people would die or go missing. But according to yesterday's report, 53 people died, 39 are missing, and search efforts continue, with hopes of saving half of them.”

The once-prosperous Jiangnan region is now in ruins, damp and heavy, with porridge distribution stands lining the streets and long queues of refugees waiting for relief.

The grain stores have reopened, and those who can afford it are scrambling to stock up on food for their families, preparing for potential future disasters.

Along the streets, strong men are seen repairing rooftops damaged by the torrential rain, using tiles and wooden planks.

After the natural disaster, it's the resilience of ordinary people, working under the scorching summer sun, that reignites their will to live.

Huaijing smiles, looking at Tangtang: “Tangtang, we’ve reduced the losses by half.”

Little sparrows line up on rooftops and tree branches, gazing at the busy people below with their tiny, puzzled eyes. Huaijing looks at Tangtang with tender eyes: “So you see, we really did great.”

We did our utmost, saving as many people as possible.

Whether or not we are thanked or praised, at least the land beneath our feet and the sun above remember.

So please, don’t feel guilty. You’ve done enough.

Huaijing leads Tangtang gently through the disaster-stricken land.

-

Due to pre-stocked grains and immediate porridge distribution after the rain, there were no starvation deaths in Suzhou, although minor skirmishes for food did occur, quickly controlled by well-trained officials and soldiers.

Sheng Chengming and his officials, some were relocated to Suzhou for administration, while others remained in Lin Garden.

The Second Prince, who had lived a life of luxury in Yujing for eighteen years, now tirelessly worked in the disaster areas and on the dikes, his skin darkened and worn by the harsh sun.

Sometimes, Tangtang looks at the drained Sheng Chengming and then at the radiant Huaijing by his side, marveling at how the main villain, even without fate’s favor, is still strikingly presentable.

And quite formidably so.

One afternoon, Tangtang sits under a persimmon tree laden with green fruit in the yard, idly watching Shuangfu prepare medicine. The strikingly handsome villain frowns slightly, listening to Lu Jiaxi babbling about something as he enters the yard.

Seeing Tangtang, Huaijing's expression changes, and he gestures for Lu Jiaxi to be quiet. He then naturally walks behind Tangtang, softly asking, “Aren’t you taking a nap?”

He usually wakes up from his afternoon nap to a bowl of soup medicine cooled to just the right temperature. The fact that the medicine isn’t ready yet indicates it's not the usual time for Tangtang to be awake.

Sitting on a small stool, he holds a foxtail grass in his hand, having drawn a circle with salt on the ground to trap a few ants carrying grains.

Tangtang idly teases the ants with the grass root, glances at Lu Jiaxi, and responds, “I slept, woke up early.”

Then he asks, “What’s wrong? You both look so troubled.”

To be fair, Huaijing doesn’t really look troubled, but Lord Lu’s face is as wrinkled as a steamed bun, hard to ignore.

Huaijing originally wanted to keep it secret, but Tangtang stares at him intently, leaving him no choice. He takes over Shuangfu's place, slowly fanning the flames under the medicine pot with a palm-leaf fan.

He says, “It’s nothing serious. The Second Prince has already arranged for people to handle it. Tangtang needn’t worry.”

Tangtang replies, “I’m not worried, just curious.”

Huaijing pauses, then says, “There's been an outbreak in the city.”

Tangtang’s heart tightens, and he unconsciously starts to frown.

After a major disaster, epidemics are inevitable. They managed to reduce the death toll from the flood by half, but in this era, if an infectious disease breaks out, especially with many collapsed buildings and people crowded in shelters, just one infected person could lead to unthinkable consequences.

In his previous life, Tangtang only knew the death toll from the Jiangnan flood was in the hundreds of thousands from a secret letter, but it didn’t specify how many died from the flood, the epidemic, or in the chaos of rebellion.

He asks in a low voice, “Is it serious?”

Huaijing looked up at him and shook his head slightly: “It's unclear. It's a disease we've never seen before.”

Lu Jiaxi also sat down, making a circle around the group of ants on the ground. He said, “The epidemic isn’t the toughest part. Huaijing anticipated it early on, setting up quarantine areas in the city. Anyone showing symptoms is immediately taken there for treatment by doctors, while densely populated areas are fumigated with mugwort daily. This morning, I passed by and heard experienced doctors saying that the number of people infected post-flood is much less than after the flood in Qingzheng’s second year.”

Tangtang was slightly startled, glancing at Huaijing with a bit of amazement.

He knew that the major antagonist was versed in astronomy, geography, military, and politics – essential for his eventual ascent to the court. It was impossible not to learn.

But he was only seventeen and had already foreseen the post-flood epidemic and taken preventive measures, demonstrating astounding ability.

Tangtang steadied his mind and turned to Lu Jiaxi: “If that's the case, what are you worried about?”

Lord Lu twirled a foxtail grass, drawing circles on the ground, looking even more anxious than the trapped ants: “The disaster relief funds haven’t arrived.”

It was already June 30th, ten days since the rain stopped. Even the rice that Tangtang and Huaijing had stockpiled, along with the emergency grain reserves of Suzhou, were nearly depleted.

Not to mention, the disaster relief funds were needed not just for buying grain. With so many houses collapsed in Jiangnan and a season’s crops destroyed, the common people would starve without financial aid from the government.

Tangtang remained silent for a moment, knowing well that this would inevitably happen.

Even in his previous lives, when Jiangnan’s governor, Lu Junxian, concealed the disaster’s extent, it wasn’t until early July, when refugees gathered outside Yu Jing City, that the disaster in Jiangnan became known to Emperor Renshou.

The emperor’s first action wasn’t to send a special envoy for relief, but to secretly order Duke Wukang to drive the refugees away from the city outskirts with his troops.

Only after arguments about the true extent of the flood in court did Emperor Renshou send a minister to inspect the disaster in Jiangnan. By the time relief funds were dispatched from the Ministry of Revenue, it was already mid-July.

Not to mention, the national treasury was already strained. The relief funds allocated were insufficient. At this point, local officials were frantically seeking donations from wealthy merchants.

Yet in this life, without Lyu Junxian's act of underreporting, the flood situation in Jiangnan was promptly reported by the Second Prince's trusted aide. Rong Tang couldn’t understand why there was still no response.

After stewing the medicinal soup to the right consistency, Su Huaijing poured it into a bowl to cool. He glanced at Lu Jiaxi and then at Rong Tang, asking, “Does Tangtang also wonder why the disaster relief funds haven’t been released yet?”

Rong Tang paused, shaking his head honestly, “I don’t know.”

Perhaps the pain had been too much lately, numbing his thoughts, and he genuinely couldn’t figure it out at the moment.

Su Huaijing chuckled softly, fondly providing the answer, “Because Lyu Junxian is a disciple of Zhang, the elder statesman.”

Lu Jiaxi, with a puzzled frown, couldn’t understand, “What does this have to do with Governor Lyu? Didn’t Your Highness already imprison him?”

His naive yet pointed question caught Rong Tang off-guard, who then abruptly realized the absurdity of the situation, looking at Su Huaijing, hoping he’d refute his guess.

However, Su Huaijing's eyes sparkled with amusement, “Seems like Tangtang has guessed it.”

Lu Jiaxi, utterly confused, “Guessed what?”

“Jiangnan’s prosperity,” Rong Tang uttered these four words softly.

With its wealth, Lyu Junxian, as the Governor of Jiangnan, must have amassed a significant fortune. Being a disciple of Elder Zhang, he would surely offer substantial tributes to his mentor annually in exchange for protection.

The relief funds were disbursed from the Ministry of Revenue, which fell under the jurisdiction of the Cabinet.

Now with Sheng Chengming arriving in Jiangnan before the floods, acting decisively to imprison Lyu Junxian, it meant that Lyu Junxian couldn’t have influenced this disaster in any way.

Su Huaijing wanted Lyu Junxian to be dismissed from his post, but Elder Zhang clung to the lucrative position in Jiangnan.

It wasn't that he wouldn't save the lives of millions; he just wanted to secure his disciple’s position first, before the lives of the common people.

If the disaster relief funds arrived in Jiangnan too quickly, wouldn't it prove that the officials of Great Yu were negligent in their duties, only to be resolved by the arrival of a prince?

No matter whether Lyu Junxian had committed embezzlement or other crimes, he would inevitably be removed from his position as the governor of Jiangnan.

Elder Zhang intended to save him first, then deal with the disaster relief funds.

And how to save him? It was simple, as his own grandson, Sheng Chengming, was conveniently in Jiangnan. As long as Sheng Chengming didn’t expose Lyu Junxian, he would continue to be part of the Second Prince’s faction.

From any perspective, this situation was entirely advantageous to Sheng Chengming.

He would gain a good reputation, achieve political success, retain a high-ranking official, and secure an economic source for his future endeavors.

It all depended on whether Sheng Chengming would reach an agreement with his maternal grandfather.

Rong Tang looked at Su Huaijing, feeling a chill in his heart. He didn't speak, just silently gazed at Su Huaijing.

The medicine had cooled enough. Su Huaijing handed it to Rong Tang, saying indifferently, “Tangtang, don’t worry about it. Let him figure it out himself.”

He couldn’t plan everything for Sheng Chengming, nor was he the true strategist of the Second Prince. Whether Lyu Junxian was saved or not, the disaster relief funds had to reach the provinces of Jiangnan before the 15th of July.

As for Sheng Chengming’s current choice, it would only affect his future fate. Su Huaijing was unconcerned.

Rong Tang sipped the medicinal soup silently. Lu Jiaxi, lost in thought, accidentally dropped his grass tail, breaking the circle of salt. Puzzled, he said, “But isn’t it beyond Elder Zhang’s control to save him or not? The student elder and the others are already on their way; even if he wants to save him, it’s too late, isn’t it?”

Rong Tang looked up in slight surprise, swallowing his medicine before looking at Lu Jiaxi, and asked, “Who is coming?”

“It’s Scholar Ke and Lord Mu,” Lu Jiaxi replied. “They left the capital in early June. Encountering heavy rain, they rested in Huizhou, took care of the local disaster victims, then hurried to Hangzhou. Counting the days, they should arrive by tomorrow afternoon.”

The ants on the ground finally found an exit, busily carrying food out through the gap.

Rong Tang gazed at the gap, momentarily lost in thought.

Hadn’t he avoided the butterfly effect?

In his previous life, Mu Jingxu discovered a secret, which Ke Hongxue then told Rong Tang, intending to use it to blackmail Lyu Junxian. Was it to be discovered by them again in this life?

Lyu Junxian, a successful candidate in the imperial examinations of Yuanxing's eighth year, rose to Jiangnan Governor after serving in the Hanlin Academy. His rise owed to a significant deed he did for Emperor Renshou.

The severed head on Emperor Renshou’s “rebellion” banner was chopped off and hung by Lyu Junxian himself, a gesture of his loyalty to the new emperor.

Ironically, he was the First Prince’s unknown maternal uncle.