Chapter 102

Chapter 102

The turbid waves of the Xing'an River lashed against the earthen cofferdam packed with grass, splashing droplets of water.

To build a large-scale water-powered mill complex, one cannot simply place the water wheel in the middle of the wide river and wait for the gentle current to slowly turn it.

If the water flow is not swift enough, it cannot drive the nine giant millstones that the Crown Prince's "audacious" blueprint envisioned.

Before construction begins, an overflow dam must first be built to block off half of the riverbed and raise the water level.

Then, a diversion channel—essentially an underground trough—must be constructed to force the raised river water into a narrow waterway, to build up enough driving force to turn the water wheel.

These external prerequisites were not detailed in the Crown Prince's blueprint submitted to the Ministry of Works.

The brilliant artisan who designed this mill truly had a remarkable mastery of drive gears and linkages.

However, this designer clearly lacked hands-on construction experience, as the blueprint only specified the force needed to drive the water wheel, without any mention of how to generate such immense impact.

The pre-construction preparations were studied and analyzed by seasoned officials of the Ministry of Works with extensive water conservancy experience, who added the necessary site conditions to that astonishing nine-rotor mill blueprint.

At this moment, more than a hundred Ministry of Works artisans were digging foundation pits inside the cofferdam that had just been drained of water.

The river burst out from between two sheer green cliffs to the north, the drop churning white foam, mist stinging their faces, washing away sweat.

Once it flowed south out of the valley, the current gentled, with villages and paddy fields scattered along both banks.

The mill site was chosen precisely at the throat where the water plunged off the cliffs.

To sink the foundation piles, artisans had to fill thousands of stone baskets at the river bend to form a crescent-shaped earthen dam, and use dragon-bone chain pumps to bail the water dry, expose the riverbed, then dig down with iron shovels to bedrock.

When construction first began, villagers from nearby hamlets sometimes came in groups to gawk.

They were curious whether the Great Wei War God was building this behemoth to repel foreign invaders.

Only the old mill owners in the villages saw red, since they could tell from the posted notices what the government intended to build.

A mill this big was plainly meant to steal their livelihood.

Even before construction started, the mill owners had rallied their hired hands, bribed villagers, and spread rumors far and wide, trying to stir up the locals into sabotaging the government project.

After all, the law can't touch a mob—even if it meant moving shop elsewhere to compete, that would be fine.

The catch was that the man overseeing this mill project was the Crown Prince, who had just been named heir apparent.

He was the Tengri Sky Blade of Great Wei—needless to say, the War God's name struck fear across the northern steppes, and just hearing his name made the capital's citizens stand a little prouder.

No matter how the mill owners racked their brains, slinging mud and slander, the common folk refused to believe the War God could do any wrong.

And so the project went off without a hitch—until five days ago.

When the cofferdam was completed and the water level had just begun to rise, the wooden pilings along the lower Xing'an, long scoured by the current, suddenly showed a few inches of gray, water-worn wood.

Villagers could even scoop up stranded crucian carp in the shallows.

The downstream flow had dropped.

At last, the mill owners had their opening.

The villagers didn't care that the total water volume hadn't changed—a sudden drop in downstream water might as well have been a death sentence for their crops.

The villagers the mill owners had bribed mixed into the crowd and fanned the flames, and with tempers flaring, one shout rallied hundreds, and they stormed upstream to halt the work.

Word spread that the court was trying to steal the Xing'an villagers' water, and if that mill got built, they might as well lie down and die.

More than a hundred able-bodied men from nearby villages, armed with hoes and pitchforks, marched up from the southern flatlands, following the river upstream, crowding along the towpath chiseled into the cliff face.

For the first few days, the villagers just cursed the innocent workmen on site, not daring to bad-mouth the overseers too loudly, only picking on the Ministry of Works grunts they figured they could push around.

The officials, worried about delays, pushed the crews to work faster, and the moment the water was pumped out, they took turns climbing down to shovel out the muck.

They'd nearly finished digging, and the water wheel's support frame already sat on the bank, when, out of nowhere, a reddish-brown sludge started seeping up from the pit.

The sturdy bare calves of the artisans coming ashore in turns were stained with red mud, a sight that made one's heart race.

At first, they thought an artisan rushing to dig had injured himself, but soon, beneath the shoveled-away sand, a layer of deep red slurry emerged.

Water seeped through cracks in the pit floor, and within half an hour, a dark red water belt over two zhang wide and more than ten zhang long had spread.

It looked almost like a river of blood.

The villagers erupted in an uproar instantly.

Superstitious talk of severing ancestral veins and heavenly warnings spread, and the villagers surged forward, swinging hoes and iron forks at the support timbers on the outside of the cofferdam.

In the heat of fury, the cofferdam was breached with small gaps, and water seeped into the pit.

Several bare-chested artisans tried to climb out of the pit to stop the villagers from smashing the dam.

A group of burly village men immediately jumped into the pit, pinning down the court's lackeys, knees pressed into their lower backs, shouting for others to keep smashing.

The artisans' faces were shoved into the dark brown muck, leaving only their feet kicking helplessly in the mud.

The artisans resting on the bank saw this and immediately grabbed iron shovels, charging over to stop the villagers.

"Stop! This is treason! Everyone, stop!"

Zhang Dexiao, the chief steward of the Construction Division of the Ministry of Works, lifted his robe hem and stumbled through the mud, spreading his arms to block the not-yet-destroyed wooden piles, his official boots sinking into the mire as he hopped and waved at the rioting villagers, shouting at the top of his lungs—

"This is a water-powered mill complex supervised by the court! The Crown Prince said that once built, it can husk two thousand dan of grain a day! It's meant to save labor for the people of the capital's counties—this is a project for your benefit! Are you smashing your own rice bowls?" Zhang Dexiao waved his mud-covered hands.

"Bah!" A large clump of wet mud flew from somewhere in the crowd, smacking Zhang Dexiao square on the forehead.

A middle-aged man mixed in the crowd loudly shouted the slogan just delivered by the mill owner's messenger: "Folks, look clearly! The officials are building this damn water wheel to hold back half of the Xing'an River's water! From now on, that water will flow into the government's ponds, and the tens of qing of paddy fields downstream won't even get a crack of moisture!"

Someone nearby immediately chimed in: "If the crops wither, what will we use to pay the grain tax come autumn? Our lives?"

These words sent everyone's blood rushing to their heads.

The common folk toiled to feed these parasites in the court, and now they were even taking half the water—truly leaving them no way to survive.

"Then let's all die! Smash it all!"

A dozen iron shovels simultaneously dug into the yellow mud of the dam foundation.

Seven or eight men chanted in unison, using their shoulders to push against a giant bamboo cage filled with river stones.

"One, two, three!" A pig-cage stone rumbled into the rushing current of the Xing'an River, splashing a white wave over a zhang high.

River water poured down over him, and Zhang Dexiao chased a few steps, bent to pick up his washed-away official hat, then turned and sprinted toward the watchtower where the Xuanlin Guard commander was watching from across the river.

"Supervising Secretary Li! What are you still standing here gawking at this hour? Building the cofferdam and the dam is the priciest job for this water mill [Water Mill]. If these unreasonable villagers tear it all down, and the Crown Prince investigates, that's a thousand-plus taels of silver! You gonna cover that?"

Li Yuanzhan's hand was already on his sword hilt.

His thumb pressed against the guard, easing the blade an inch out of the sheath, his eyes fixed on the villagers by the riverbank. After mulling it over for a few breaths, he slid the blade back into the sheath.

"My unit is stationed here by the Crown Prince's written order to oversee the work. We can't make any rash moves. You can go to the yamen and get someone to put down the troublemakers."

Zhang Dexiao was floored, spittle flying onto Li Yuanzhan's iron armor: "This cofferdam's about to be smashed to pieces! The Xing'an River's gonna back up and ruin the foundation, and you're still worried about supervising? Keeping the water mill safe is your job! If you don't care, then I sure as hell don't either!"

"Hold on, sir. I'll send two of my men on fast horses to report the villagers' riot to the Crown Prince."

The Crown Prince hadn't sent back any orders—he was already gearing up to ride over solo.

After changing clothes and running to the entrance of the manor, a eunuch was already waiting with a muscular black horse.

Shen Lian's legs went weak at the sight—if that horse took off, he'd have to hug its back with all four limbs just to stay on.

Just as he was about to ask if a smaller, thinner horse could be prepared, the young male concubine, dressed in the Crown Prince's casual wear, brushed past him.

He tapped the stirrup with his toe and vaulted onto the horse with a side flip.

Seeing the young male concubine about to tear off like a Formula One car, Shen Lian quickly shouted, "Hold up! Dian Xia! Take me along!"

Earlier, while the young male concubine was changing, Shen Lian had gotten the full story.

If the villagers were just spooked because the river ran red, thinking it was a bad omen, that should be easy to fix.

The red, rust-smelling water could be ochre—a staple in the Imperial Medical Bureau, used to soothe the liver, bring down yang, and stop bleeding. It's worth a pretty penny.

Far from a bad omen, it's a sign of a thriving nation and prosperous people.

But Xie Yuan had initially refused to take him to the scene, afraid he wouldn't be able to look after him if a fight broke out.

Shen Lian hurriedly turned and ran out, planning to plop himself in the carriage and refuse to budge.

Turns out the young male concubine hadn't arranged for a carriage.

"Don't go! Dian Xia! Take me along! I'm an imperial physician—I know how to prove what that red mineral is. You can't explain it alone, can you? Are you gonna beat the villagers into line?"

That actually stopped Xie Yuan.

But Shen Lian wasn't good at riding horses, so they had to share a carriage to the riverbank in the nearby county.

Along the way, Shen Lian had practiced over and over how to explain the red river in the simplest way possible.

How to play on the villagers' superstitions to spin this into a huge stroke of luck.

But when they got to the upper riverbank, he was completely floored.

A huge swarm of villagers was brawling with over a hundred workmen from the Ministry of Works.

The villagers outnumbered the workmen three or four to one, shoving hard toward the cofferdam.

The workmen, meanwhile, were fighting tooth and nail to protect their handiwork.

All his prepared speeches were useless now. Even with a megaphone, Shen Lian couldn't have calmed that mob.

Shen Lian turned to the young male concubine in despair: "Why are they trying to kill us for building them a water mill? All because the river ran red?"

"Must be something else going on." Xie Yuan shoved Shen Lian back into the carriage: "Wait for me in there."

Shen Lian: "No way, I'm coming with you."

Xie Yuan: "Come with me for what? To throw down with them? You taking point?"

Shen Lian puffed up his chest and argued: "Even you can't take on a few hundred people by yourself, right?"

"Why not?" Xie Yuan turned to look at the crowd pushing on the narrow riverbank, then glanced back at the steep slope behind, and replied in a low voice: "Though I usually don't lay a hand on my own people. Get back in the carriage. Once I sort this out, I'll come take you to the watchtower to calm the villagers."

"They're already fighting! How can one person break up a fight of several hundred?" Shen Lian urged: "Aren't you the War God of Great Wei? Can't you go borrow some soldiers to help break this up?"

Xie Yuan dashed up the cliff in two steps, surveying the terrain from above, mentally sizing up how many could fit in the front line. In no time, he leaped down and told the scheming imperial physician who was pretending to worry about him: "No need. I have the Xuanlin Guard stationed here."

Shen Lian whipped his head around: "Where? Where?!"

Xie Yuan pointed at the group beneath the watchtower: "The ones carrying blades."

Shen Lian turned to the young male concubine in shock, whispering as tactfully as he could to spare his ego: "That's maybe forty or fifty armed guys over there, max, right? You see how many villagers there are? At least four or five hundred."

Xie Yuan turned back, eyes lowered at him: "You once bet me that Prince Qi could annihilate a hundred thousand Tatar cavalry with eight hundred light horsemen. What now? Five hundred villagers have me stumped? What, one con from you and I've lost all my martial skills?"

Shen Lian: "...That's just a legend, Your War God Highness. Can you quit stalling and go get some backup?"

Xie Yuan looked a bit miffed but didn't have time to argue. He just said, "Wait in the carriage for me to come get you," and took off toward the blade-carrying Xuanlin Guard.

"The Crown Prince is here!"

"The prince is here! The prince is here!"

...

"Yuanzhan."

"Reporting!"

"Form up in the fish-scale formation."