Chapter 79 Malaria

Chapter 79: The Plague

The main road leading from the city gate into town bustled with activity, many shops just opening for business.

Situated on higher ground, the area had suffered minimal damage from the disaster. Only a few shop roofs had been washed away by the heavy rain and remained unrepaired.

At first glance, things did not seem so dire.

Yet Jiang Wang was not deceived by this superficial “prosperity.”

“Kang Fei, show us the rest.”

Kang Fei nodded solemnly and deftly led them along narrow paths deeper into the town.

Even before witnessing the full extent of the devastation, Jiang Wang caught a foul odor in the air—not the fresh, earthy scent after rain, but the stench of riverbed silt mingled with rotting fish and shrimp, faint yet persistent, drifting steadily toward them.

As they drew closer, the stench intensified. Rows of houses collapsed by floodwaters came into view, accompanied by the sour, musty reek of decaying wood—a far more tenacious odor than the fishy stench, clinging stubbornly to the air and seemingly to their clothes and skin.

“Where are the people?”

Jiang Wang’s heart tightened as he asked, stunned. With their homes destroyed, where were they living now?

Kang Fei sighed silently and pointed toward a more distant area.

“Please follow me, Young Master.”

The group walked for about the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, and the previously quiet air gradually grew noisy.

Yet Jiang Wang felt as though he had stepped into a living hell.

Just around the corner, it seemed they had crossed the boundary between the ordinary world and a hellscape.

This was an abandoned training ground—modest in size, its boundaries visible at a glance—yet crammed with thousands of terrified disaster victims.

The stench of sweat, the foul odor of festering wounds, the choking smoke of low-grade medicinal herbs, and even the acrid smell of excrement all mingled together, steaming in the heat and rising in waves of nausea.

Along the edges of the ground, makeshift shelters had been erected from discarded wooden planks—swaying precariously with each gust of wind, threatening imminent collapse. Wood shavings and dust fell into the watery “porridge,” yet no one cared.

Neither the soldiers distributing the porridge nor the victims receiving it paid any attention.

They licked parched lips, throats dry as blades, jostling one another in line. Filthy, emaciated, barely clothed—they sought only a bowl of something to drink.

They were desperately thirsty. Nearby water sources had long been contaminated; they relied on this single bowl of water to survive each day.

A soldier scraped the bottom of the pot, ladled the last spoonful of rice soup into the next victim’s bowl, and tapped the edge of the pot.

“That’s all! Come back tonight!”

Those who hadn’t received any could only disperse weakly, finding empty spots to sit or lie down, enduring the agonizing wait for the next handout.

In the past, Jiang Wang would never have set foot in such a foul-smelling place—he would have turned away at the first whiff from afar.

But now, witnessing the people’s suffering firsthand—their starvation, their near-nakedness—he could no longer smell anything at all.

He even longed to approach each victim personally, offering them a bowl of clean water and a serving of porridge.

Suppressing the tears welling in his eyes, Jiang Wang choked back the lump in his throat and the fury in his heart, turning to Kang Fei beside him.

“Do they live in a place like this?”

Jiang Wang had assumed that, even if life was harsh for the victims, they would at least have some shelter from wind and rain.

“At first, no one cared—everyone simply lived wherever they could on the streets,” Kang Fei replied, glancing quickly at Jiang Wang as if struggling to speak. “…Later, when word spread that the court was sending officials, the county magistrate used the pretext of porridge distribution to lure everyone here.”

Kang Fei pointed to the soldiers standing in the shadows beneath the surrounding trees. “They were all dispatched by the county magistrate—to keep watch, to prevent them from wandering off.”

Jiang Wang looked at Kang Fei. “And you? Why were you able to leave?”

“My family still has some savings, so we can manage for now—and we have clothes to wear,” Kang Fei replied, gazing ahead. “But these people depended entirely on farming and the weather for their livelihood. Now that the flood has destroyed both their crops and homes, they’ve truly lost everything. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have fallen for the lie about ‘porridge distribution.’”

“And…” Kang Fei paused. “Have you noticed, sir? The soldiers here are all wearing face coverings. It’s likely some people are already sick.”

Yes—Jiang Wang suddenly realized. After a major disaster, epidemics were inevitable.

Especially with floods like this, if the area wasn’t cleansed promptly, mosquitoes would breed, making malaria highly probable.

And those victims lying on the ground in agony—were they already infected?

No wonder the foul air carried the pungent smell of low-grade medicinal herbs. Even knowing the people were falling ill, they still treated the crisis with utter negligence—going through the motions without sincerity?

A county magistrate who regarded human lives as nothing more than weeds!

“Let’s go! We’re heading back!”

Jiang Wang strode forward swiftly, determined to bring the grain and supplies he had transported over such a long distance directly into town—and ensure every suffering victim took shelter in the county magistrate’s residence!

Perhaps fueled by rage, the return journey felt far quicker than the outward trip—even Kang Fei struggled to keep pace with Jiang Wang’s stride.

Upon returning to the convoy, Jiang Wang ordered everyone to change into their official robes. Without delay, they charged straight toward the city gate.

“Hey—stop! What are you doing? No entry! Halt for inspection!”

It was the same soldiers guarding the gate—but this time, they were powerless to stop them.

They could only watch as dust kicked up by the carriages swirled around them, stinging their foreheads—until they suddenly remembered.

“Hurry—inform the county magistrate! The imperial relief envoy has arrived!”

＊

In short order, they returned to the abandoned training ground teeming with disaster victims.

The first time, they had come secretly. This time, they arrived openly.

The soldiers stationed there quickly surrounded them, weapons gleaming coldly in their hands.

Of course, the guards Jiang Wang had brought were no pushovers.

Having witnessed the惨状 earlier, their anger burned just as fiercely—and within moments, they subdued every soldier on the ground.

Just as the situation was being brought under control, the sound of galloping horses echoed from the distance.

Jiang Wang snorted coldly. “They arrived quite quickly.”

Sure enough, moments later, the magistrate's loathsome face appeared around the corner.

His head was as round as a pancake, his corpulent body resembled a spindle, and the fat on his belly seemed ready to spill out, straining his loose official robe to its limits.

The magistrate clumsily tumbled off his horse, scrambling to pick up his fallen official hat and fumbling to fasten the button that had popped open at his waist.

"R-Relief Commissioner, Y-Your Excellency, h-how did you come to be here?"

He knelt on the ground, panting heavily.

"How did I come to be here? If I hadn't come, you would have run completely amok!"

His anger surged. Jiang Wang was so furious his hands trembled slightly; he had never raised his voice so loudly before.

Pointing at the disaster victims, he roared, "Hu Dahong, is it? As the magistrate of this county, is this how you treat the people whose taxes support you?"

Hu Dahong's expression soured, but after glancing at Jiang Wang's pale and delicate appearance and the entourage he had brought, his eyes shifted craftily. He waved over a lanky man with a small mustache beside him.

This man had a shrewd, calculating look in his eyes and seemed to be Hu Dahong's advisor.

He pulled a glistening teacup from his sleeve and presented it to Jiang Wang.

"Your Excellency, the Relief Commissioner must be tired. Please have some tea and rest first."

Jiang Wang was no connoisseur of antiques, but even he could tell at a glance that the jade material of this cup was flawless, a truly exquisite piece.

He took the cup from the advisor, holding it up to examine it carefully. Sure enough, Hu Dahong's expression relaxed considerably, a smug look of "just as expected" appearing on his face.

In this world, no one was immune to the lure of money, not even a Relief Commissioner.

However, the next moment, that teacup smashed against Hu Dahong's temple.

Imitating Xiao Yan's former playboy demeanor, Jiang Wang accurately flung the cup at Hu Dahong's head.

The cup then fell to the ground, shattering with a crisp sound.

Jiang Wang was no martial artist, so his throw naturally lacked force and couldn't cause Hu Dahong any real physical harm.

But the humiliation was absolute.

Hu Dahong was stunned. He hadn't expected this youthful-looking Relief Commissioner to dare treat him this way.

In front of everyone, his most treasured cup had been contemptuously dashed to the ground.

The mocking jeers of the watching disaster victims reached his ears. Burning with rage, he secretly gripped the dagger hidden in his sleeve.

So what if he was the Relief Commissioner? That fair, delicate appearance clearly belonged to a mere boy who hadn't even grown all his hair yet.

The Emperor must have been out of his mind to appoint someone like this as Relief Commissioner.

But no matter. Today, he would teach him what it meant that a powerful dragon could not crush a local snake.

A greenhorn kid, with a few servants who looked as scrawny as chickens. What could a few guards do?

Hu Dahong was confident he could ensure this group before them wouldn't leave Dong County alive.

Once he seized their grain supplies and the gold, silver, and valuables on their persons, it might just make up for the loss of his precious cup.

And if the court came asking?

The Relief Commissioner had delivered the supplies and left, but unfortunately met bandits on the road and was killed. He would express his deep condolences.

Hu Dahong hung his head as if in remorse, but a vicious glint shone in his eyes.

He was waiting for the right moment to spring up, close the distance to Jiang Wang, and drive the blade in his hand through Jiang Wang's heart.

Hu Dahong took a glance, poised to strike.

However, as he straightened up and took a step forward, his ankle gave a sharp twinge of pain, as if he had tripped over something.

Before he could steady himself, he stumbled and fell. The knife he had been holding pierced clean through his own palm.

Blood immediately gushed out, staining the dirt on the ground red.

Agonizing pain shot from his pierced palm. A heart-rending scream tore through the sky, startling birds from the trees and even silencing the incessantly chirping cicadas.

"You! What are you standing there for! Attack! Get them!"

Hu Dahong barked orders at his advisor beside him. It was time for the county soldiers they had brought to step in.

The advisor assumed a commanding tone and gave the order, but no one dared to move.

After all, the highest-ranking official present was now the Relief Commissioner, not the magistrate.

"Are you rebelling? You won't listen to me anymore? Attack! Don't you want your wives, children, and elders at home anymore? I am still the magistrate here! You must obey me!"

Hu Dahong, ignoring the blood streaming from his hand, roared like a madman at the hesitant county soldiers.

"If you let the Relief Commissioner return alive, and I get impeached, your necks won't be safe either!"

Jiang Wang understood. He recalled the conversation of the soldiers at the city gate. These soldiers were likely being coerced.

If they didn't obey the magistrate, they wouldn't get food, and naturally, they couldn't support their families.

But it didn't matter.

"Gentlemen, hear me out. Please lay down your weapons. Right now, aiding the disaster victims is of utmost importance. Surely none of you wish to see your hometown in such a dilapidated state, nor to see your fellow townsfolk suffering."

Jiang Wang raised his voice again, cupping his hands in salute. "I, your official, guarantee here that for anyone who participates in the relief efforts, merits will offset faults, and past wrongs will not be pursued."

Jiang Wang's heartfelt speech genuinely swayed the county soldiers.

They hadn't wanted to do these unconscionable things in the first place, but they had no choice. Only by obeying could they receive the rice to feed their families and prevent their wives and children from starving.

Since they now had a chance to withdraw unscathed, why not take it?

"I am willing to contribute to the relief efforts! I will follow the Relief Commissioner's orders!"

Once one person stepped forward, others quickly followed suit.

"Me too!"

"We will obey the Relief Commissioner's commands!"

"Contribute to the relief!"

In an instant, the county soldiers laid down their weapons, reversing the situation.

Ling Hai, hidden in the tree, stowed his hidden weapon and casually began tossing a pebble in his hand.

That last shot was pretty accurate.

Seeing everyone turn against him, Eunuch Wu seemed to become even more unhinged.

Ignoring his bleeding hand, he reached out with a tremble, still trying to slap as he usually would.

But now, no one feared him anymore.

*

Eunuch Wu and that county clerk were taken into custody, and without any orders, all the county soldiers started working on their own.

They moved away from the abandoned training ground and set up new shelters and stoves in the open street market in front of the county office. Some were for distributing porridge, while others were used to brew herbal medicine.

Jiang Wang kept an eye on things, moving from place to place and lending a hand wherever needed.

Seeing everything proceed in an orderly manner, he felt much more at ease, and he even had time to wonder whether Xiao Yan was safe over there.

But by evening, Eunuch Wu rushed in to report.

"Sir! The herbal medicine doesn't seem to be working, and the grain we brought is only enough until tomorrow morning..."

Author's note:

What should be done? How will Jiang Wang handle this...