The war report was sent out four days ago.
Xumo’er chose this moment to act, aiming to strike while the iron was hot and take advantage of the situation.
Li Fuxiang held the war report in his hand and went to find Gao Yuexing.
Although Gao Yuexing didn’t initially know the content of the report, one look at the neat, square box made everything clear.
The emotions in Li Fuxiang’s eyes were too complex to discern immediately.
Gao Yuexing said, “You can go with peace of mind. I will stay here.”
Li Fuxiang replied, “The situation is dire. Commander Zheng is ill.”
Gao Yuexing was shocked. “Ill at a time like this?”
Commander Zheng had always been robust; how could he fall ill now?
Li Fuxiang said, “There is something strange about the situation in the capital, but I cannot attend to it now. My Xiaoqi Battalion, along with Zheng Yan and Zheng Yi leading the 100,000-strong Zheng family army, are marching west. I am to rendezvous with them at Tieshui Cliff.”
Gao Yuexing listened, her heart pounding. “What about provisions?”
Even though she understood little about military affairs, she knew the importance of ensuring the supply line. Without provisions, everything would fall apart.
Li Fuxiang chuckled lightly and said, “The nation has enjoyed peace and prosperity for more than a decade. Our grain reserves are not insignificant, but the timing is unfortunate. With the six southern cities in dire straits, we must reserve grain for disaster relief. I will only take a small portion with me. I’ll strive for a swift and decisive battle, avoiding prolonged engagements or reckless pursuits.”
His words sounded relaxed, but Gao Yuexing knew there must be a heavy burden he was unwilling to put into words.
Gao Yuexing’s thoughts drifted to the previous life.
The South suffered from disasters, the Western Frontier was embroiled in bitter conflict, and yet the grain reserves from the national treasury flowed entirely into the pockets of Prince Xin and Kong Shishu. She clenched her teeth in anger; those two truly deserved their demise.
She allowed him to leave, but how could Li Fuxiang truly feel at ease?
That very night, Li Fuxiang did something shocking.
He personally led the Jinyiwei to forcibly evict over a dozen families who stubbornly refused to relocate, ordering the Jinyiwei to remove them by force.
The displaced commoners cursed at him, but Li Fuxiang listened impassively. When someone, overcome with despair, attempted suicide by smashing their head against a wall, the Jinyiwei found a way to gag the person and bind them before taking them away.
He stood there like an Asura, his face cold and terrifying, more dreadful than the flood itself.
It is often harder to be a good person than a villain, for good people must follow rules, tying themselves down and rendering themselves powerless.
Li Fuxiang had never been fixated on being a good person. He had no patience for the tedious constraints of morality, nor did he care about the reputation he left behind.
The future was too far away for him to consider.
He only cared about the present and the matters directly before him.
By the time Gao Yuexing learned of these events, it was too late. She rushed out in a panic, only to see Li Fuxiang mounting his horse in the pouring rain, riding westward without looking back.
By the time Gao Yuexing managed to fetch her own horse, he was already long gone, a shadow that could not be pursued.
Gao Yuexing had thought they would have a proper farewell, but unexpectedly, it turned out to be so hasty. Frustrated, she let go of the horse’s reins and went back. Kong Rangchen noticed her disappointment and offered some words of comfort: “Leaving without a proper goodbye isn’t entirely bad. It leaves both sides with lingering thoughts, and it’s that longing that will make him give everything to come back and see you again.”
That made some sense.
Gao Yuexing wiped her face and then thought of the officials accompanying her outside.
Li Fuxiang had left abruptly, but what was she supposed to do with this group of civil officials he had left behind? Some of them didn’t even understand the situation at the border.
An idea came to Gao Yuexing—Xue Shanhui.
With Xue Shanhui’s moral conduct and reputation, Gao Yuexing only needed to give him a slight push for him to naturally become the pillar among the officials.
The families in Jiangluo Town had all been relocated, leaving Kong Rangchen with less than a day to act.
The princess consort, along with the officials under her command, also withdrew.
Kong Rangchen carefully calculated the water’s flow and broke open a weak section of Jiangluo Town’s river embankment.
After that, he and his team hurried to evacuate. Gao Yuexing refused to go far and remained nearby. The relay station was already deserted, leaving only the officials guarding the danger zone.
Xue Shanhui, busy with tasks, still found time to flatter: “After surviving this calamity, Your Highness and the princess consort will surely be remembered in history.”
Gao Yuexing sneered.
Remembered in history, indeed.
What Li Fuxiang had done that night, while understandable, would still leave future generations to criticize him as reckless and lacking prudence in his actions.
As Gao Yuexing pondered this, Kong Rangchen hurried back to report.
Jiangluo Town’s advantageous terrain and vast expanse had temporarily alleviated the urgent crisis.
Kong Rangchen said, “In a few days, once the court’s disaster relief grain arrives, the people’s lives will improve somewhat.”
At the mention of disaster relief grain, Gao Yuexing immediately spread out paper and pen and wrote a letter to the emperor, emphasizing that disaster relief was no trivial matter. A single grain of food was tied to the lives of tens of thousands, and it was imperative to assign trustworthy personnel and handle the matter with utmost caution.
Even after putting down her pen and sending the letter, Gao Yuexing still felt uneasy.
In the court, whether in terms of stance or power, the only trustworthy person was the emperor.
Yet the emperor, seated high in the palace hall, was also the most susceptible to being deceived.
After some thought, Gao Yuexing wrote two more letters and sent them to her father and elder brother.
By the next evening, just as Kong Rangchen had predicted, the flood broke through Jiangluo Town’s riverbank, destroying the entire town. Thousands of acres of fertile land turned into a vast expanse of water overnight.
Gao Yuexing went out for a walk.
The people who had been relocated from the town had not gone far. They stood one by one on high hills, gazing in the direction of their hometown. Covering their faces, they knelt on the ground, crying in unison.
When someone noticed Gao Yuexing, they stifled their sobs, knelt down, and led the others to bow and greet the princess consort.
Gao Yuexing looked eastward. Of the six cities in Jiangnan, four downstream were not yet severely damaged.
This was all thanks to the noble sacrifice of the people of Jiangluo Town.
Sacrificing one town to save four cities.
Gao Yuexing, draped in a raincoat, stood by the rushing river. She addressed the people of Jiangluo Town:
“When the disaster is over, the court will redistribute farmland, help you resettle, and reduce taxes. Our current emperor is a benevolent ruler who once held a sacrificial ceremony and swore that during the Jingle Era, taxes would never be increased. He promised that every farmer would have land to till. Trust that our emperor will fulfill his word. Please, rest assured.”
A resounding cheer of gratitude echoed through the crowd.
Before Li Fuxiang set off for the Western Frontier, he left behind an edict, a privilege granted by the emperor for his southern tour. It allowed him to make or revoke appointments at his discretion. Li Fuxiang stamped his personal seal on this blank edict and left it with Gao Yuexing.
He always knew what she needed to do and what she needed most.
Gao Yuexing filled in the name of Kong Rangchen on the edict.
She appointed Kong Rangchen as the Circuit Judge overseeing the six cities of Jiangnan and placed him in charge of managing water control.
Kong Rangchen received the edict and immediately set off for the four downstream cities, leading teams to dig canals and open waterways.
If the torrential rain continued, Jiangluo Town would eventually succumb, and they couldn’t afford to stop their efforts.
Gao Yuexing stayed at the relay station, sleepless for several days. Suddenly, she remembered something and sent a letter to the Medicine Valley.
The court’s disaster relief grain had yet to arrive.
With each passing day, Gao Yuexing’s heart sank further.
Had she been cautious to this extent, yet still failed to prevent this?
Even Xue Shanhui, who usually found time for flattery, had no energy left for it. Standing before Gao Yuexing, his face was haggard as he said, “The two upstream granaries have been destroyed, and the grain in the four downstream cities is nearly depleted.” He ran his hands through his disheveled hair in frustration. “When will the court’s grain arrive?”
Gao Yuexing replied, “Based on the journey, the grain sent from the north should have arrived three days ago.”
Xue Shanhui exclaimed, “Exactly, so where is it?”
Gao Yuexing: “Good question. Where did the grain go?”
Until now, there had been no news. Such a large shipment of grain couldn’t possibly vanish into thin air.
Calmly, Gao Yuexing said, “Think of another solution. The court’s grain will not arrive.”
Xue Shanhui was taken aback. “The court’s grain won’t arrive? Why? That grain is tied to the lives of tens of thousands of people in the six cities of Jiangnan!”
Gao Yuexing responded, “If it were coming, it would have arrived already. The northern Huai River region had a relatively stable climate this year. Find a way to borrow some grain from them and hold out for a few more days. I must personally go to the capital… I leave this place in your hands.”
Xue Shanhui hurriedly asked, “You’re going to the capital? What are you planning to do? Is the journey safe?”
Gao Yuexing replied, “There’s something wrong with that batch of grain. If I can’t uncover the truth, I’ll personally escort another shipment back. Hold this place together. If you encounter anything you’re unsure about, consult the others. I’m not well-versed in governance, so staying here won’t help much… I’m leaving.”
As she spoke, Gao Yuexing had already brought out her horse.
Her decisiveness was unprecedented in her life.
Xue Shanhui watched her gallop away, dumbfounded by her swift departure.
The external and internal troubles of the country had not affected the daily lives of the people in the capital.
The war in the Western Frontier had begun, and the troops had already been dispatched.
The flood in Jiangnan was severe, but the disaster relief grain had supposedly been sent out.
To the capital’s residents, the pain and suffering were distant issues. They stayed at home, quietly awaiting news.
Taverns continued to operate as usual, bustling with customers coming and going.
The brothels showed no signs of decline in business either.
The Ministry of Revenue, which oversaw the nation’s finances and grain supplies, had gone unusually quiet recently, almost as if they wished they could burrow underground to avoid being noticed.
Even the emperor in his Qianqing Palace had struggled to sleep for several nights.
It seemed as if the horrific memories of the Huai River disaster from years ago haunted his dreams. Even when he closed his eyes, he couldn’t rest.
He had received Gao Yuexing’s letter. The person responsible for transporting the disaster relief grain was one of his trusted confidants, the commander of the Imperial Guard. Such a mission should have been foolproof.
The palace itself had been calm lately.
Only Consort Meng had stirred up a bit of commotion, claiming that her illness had improved and her heart had softened. Though she still bore resentment toward her son, she expressed a desire to see the child.
The emperor thought that women’s hearts were always tender and granted Consort Meng’s request, allowing the child to be brought into the palace to keep her company.
—
Gao Yuexing traveled through the night without rest. When she finally crossed the Huai River, she was met with clear skies and received several letters from home, which had been delayed at the local relay station due to the disaster.
The letters, disguised as family correspondence, were actually coded messages from Ya Gu.
In three consecutive letters, Yagu mentioned that Fu Yun had been leaving the residence far too frequently. She hadn’t dared to follow too closely, for fear of being discovered, but on several occasions, it seemed Fu Yun had left the city.
Left the city.
Gao Yuexing carefully stored the letters. Exhausted from her journey, she lay down fully dressed at the relay station for a brief rest. However, in the middle of the night, she was suddenly awakened by a deafening commotion.
Sleep was impossible.
Gao Yuexing opened her eyes, staring into the void of darkness. The noise outside was overwhelming. It seemed as if a crowd of people in the courtyard were shouting and cursing. No matter how much she wanted to ignore it, it was impossible.
“Damn it, what rotten luck! Trapped in the mountains of Lushu for so long, we nearly got our brothers killed!”
“Enough, Old Zhao. It’s a miracle we even made it out. Damn it, though, we lost too much time.”
“Too much time indeed. We nearly lost the grain, and now we don’t even know if we’ll make it in time. The disaster victims are still waiting to be saved!”
“…”
Grain.
Disaster relief grain.
Gao Yuexing didn’t immediately grasp the situation until she heard the men shouting about feeding the horses quickly so they could hit the road again that very night. In a flash, she bolted upright and nearly rolled off the bed.
Pushing open the door, she stormed out, only to be confronted by a group of Imperial Guards. She couldn’t tell one man from another, but she shouted at the top of her lungs:
“Commander Zhao!”
Her scream tore through the noise of the men’s curses, silencing them for a moment.
One of them turned, confused, and saw a plainly dressed, somewhat disheveled woman. He muttered, “Who the hell is this woman?”
Commander Zhao Tongsheng stepped forward for a closer look, thinking he must be mistaken. He blinked a few times, then dropped to one knee with a loud thud in front of Gao Yuexing.
“Your Highness! This subordinate greets the princess consort. You—why are you here?”
Behind Zhao Tongsheng, the other guards immediately knelt as well, a synchronized movement like a wave. Although they hadn’t clearly seen who it was, following the commander’s lead was always the safest choice.
Gao Yuexing helped him to his feet and said, “The disaster relief grain has been delayed for far too long. I suspected something might have happened along the way, so I came to check.”
Zhao Tongsheng slapped his thigh and exclaimed, “Your suspicions were spot on! We were transporting the grain when we passed through Lushu. Truly bad luck—we encountered miasma and nearly didn’t make it out. The terrain in the mountains is complicated. Initially, I decided to take the mountain route because I thought going around would take too much time. Who would have thought we’d end up delayed for so long? Princess Consort, is it still in time? Have we delayed the relief effort?”
Gao Yuexing asked, “Where’s the grain?”
Zhao Tongsheng pointed to the carts behind him. “It’s all here.”
Gao Yuexing walked over slowly and ordered someone to bring a torch closer. Suddenly, she drew the dagger at her waist and slashed open one of the bulging sacks.
Zhao Tongsheng immediately rushed forward. “Your Highness, what are you doing? The grain is precious right now—”
Before he could finish his sentence, his voice abruptly cut off, as if choked in his throat.
The area fell into complete silence.
No one spoke a word.
Only the faint rustling sound remained.
What spilled continuously from the sack wasn’t rice—it was sand.
Zhao Tongsheng: “…”
Gao Yuexing: “Check all the grain.”
The Imperial Guards sprang into action, knives flashing in the firelight as they slashed open sack after sack.
Sand.
And gravel.
Zhao Tongsheng looked like he was on the verge of losing his mind. “What—what—what is going on—?!”