BEGW C60

Chapter 60

Night fell low, and the Immortal Sojourn Palace was shrouded in tranquil silence.

Only the rear hall of the Flowing Clouds Hall remained lively deep into the night.

Jiang Yuxun, after finishing recounting in one breath all the events that had occurred recently in Zherou, finally could not help but secretly let out a yawn.

Through the gaps between the peony branches, the Son of Heaven glanced toward Jiang Yuxun, and, while lightly swirling the cup in his hand, he smiled and nodded. “Beloved minister, you are now able to shoulder responsibilities on your own.”

Hearing this, Jiang Yuxun could not restrain a faint curve of his lips, but hurried to put on a mature front. “Ahem… Your Majesty truly overpraises me.”

As he spoke, he could not help but recall the day he had just crossed over to this world.

Tsk tsk, fortunately at that time Ying Changchuan had not truly made a move to kill him, otherwise how could there have been today?

Convinced that he was masking it well, Jiang Yuxun little knew that everything in his heart was already written all over his face.

The copper crane lamp flickered gently.

The candlelight cast a soft glow across Jiang Yuxun’s cheeks.

That slight trace of pride at his lips, in turn, fell fully into the Son of Heaven’s eyes.

Ying Changchuan lowered his gaze toward Jiang Yuxun, and suddenly asked on purpose, “Does beloved minister think I have overpraised you?”

Jiang Yuxun: …!

I was just being polite! How could Ying Changchuan not follow the usual pattern…

He bit his lip. “Not exactly.”

After saying this, he unconsciously cleared his throat, the tips of his ears tinged with a faint red.

Ying Changchuan then laughed.

…Was he laughing at me!

Feeling somewhat indignant, Jiang Yuxun lightly rubbed at the peony placed beside the table with his fingertip, then deliberately said to Ying Changchuan, “Fortunately, Your Majesty did not kill your servant that day, otherwise I would not have had any chance to shoulder responsibilities.”

The grudging Jiang Yuxun deliberately stressed the word “kill,” as though reminding Ying Changchuan—before you, such a capable minister almost ceased to exist.

From beyond the Flowing Clouds Hall suddenly came the cry of a cuckoo.

Moments later, beating its wings, it flew past above the hall.

Ying Changchuan’s movement suddenly stalled, as though what was just said had called to mind that day’s events.

Jiang Yuxun finally smiled with satisfaction.

Just when he thought Ying Changchuan would pretend ignorance and brush past the topic, the Son of Heaven unexpectedly lowered his eyes again and softly asked, “Is beloved minister displeased?”

“Mm?” Jiang Yuxun froze for a moment, then answered honestly, “That day, I was mainly afraid Your Majesty truly harbored intent to kill. There was no space to think of other things.”

A faint trace of grievance crept into his tone.

Outside, fine rain began to fall again.

Like needles, it tapped gently against the eaves.

Accompanied by the soft sound, Ying Changchuan chuckled. “No. I would not kill you.”

The tone of the Son of Heaven seemed no different than usual, yet Jiang Yuxun caught a subtle earnestness within.

Moments later, he suddenly realized—words alone have no proof.

What if Ying Changchuan were only jesting with him?

Not so easily deceived, Jiang Yuxun paused, then could not help but mumble quietly, “Empty words carry no weight.”

“How does beloved minister think it should be done?” Ying Changchuan appeared unusually patient.

As Son of Heaven, he rarely cared about the opinions or feelings of others.

Yet in this instant, not only did his heart sink slightly at Jiang Yuxun’s words, but he even felt a rare pang of guilt.

—Ying Changchuan did not wish for Jiang Yuxun to remain unsettled because of such matters.

So questioned thus, Jiang Yuxun could not help carefully pondering the problem before him, then answered earnestly, “…At least there should be a written pledge, right?”

…Wait!

Who in the world would demand the emperor write a pledge?

Once the words left his lips, Jiang Yuxun realized at once something was terribly wrong.

If Ying Changchuan’s earlier question had been in passing, then his answer could only seem presumptuous.

Jiang Yuxun was ready to retreat and find a way to withdraw his words.

Yet unexpectedly, at that very moment, the Son of Heaven composed himself, and with solemnity said, “Beloved minister speaks with reason.”

Speaking thus, he actually took up the brush from the table.

Jiang Yuxun was instantly struck dumb. “…Is this allowed?”

Has Ying Changchuan not drunk tonight?

Before he could react, the Son of Heaven was already poised to write, smiling as he asked, “Is there something you would like inscribed?”

A fleeting chance—he must seize it while it came.

Seeing that this was indeed serious, Jiang Yuxun put worries aside, leaning forward upon the table with an elbow supporting himself.

Though nearly a year had passed since he crossed over, his ability with classical texts remained pitiful, moving not a single step forward.

“Uh… Just write, ‘Unless involving principle-related grave offenses, under no circumstances shall His Majesty kill Jiang Yuxun.’ And it would be best if you affix a seal as well?” Speaking halfway, he at last recalled the phrase, “I think it was called… ‘Exempt from death except for treason and great rebellion’?”¹

“Very well.”

Ying Changchuan’s fingers paused, then he truly wrote exactly as Jiang Yuxun had said.

A gentle breeze carried spring rain, pattering softly against the lattice window.

At that moment, Jiang Yuxun clearly heard… Ying Changchuan could not suppress a laugh.

Jiang Yuxun held his breath.

The seven large characters written in clerical script—“Exempt from death except for treason and great rebellion”—with their beginning like silkworm heads and ending like swallow tails, strokes twisting and turning, carried utmost solemnity.¹

Finally, Ying Changchuan drew forth the “Imperial Seal” he always carried.

Carved from warm Hetian white jade, the seal radiated a gentle luster under the lamp’s glow.²

Ying Changchuan, without pause, pressed it directly upon the writing.

The actions were fluid like coursing clouds and flowing waters, leaving the one seated opposite wholly dumbstruck.

“Beloved minister, make sure to preserve it well.”

Ying Changchuan was truly earnest!

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Jiang Yuxun finally returned to his senses, both hands reverently receiving it.

In that instant, the candle flame atop the copper lamp dimmed suddenly.

A wind blew in from behind, lifting a strand of long hair that brushed across Ying Changchuan’s hand.

Startled, Jiang Yuxun instinctively reached out to push the strand back—

Yet in the next breath, his fingers brushed against Ying Changchuan’s without warning.

“Hiss—”

Ying Changchuan’s hand quivered faintly.

Jiang Yuxun too recoiled as though shocked by lightning, tightly clutching his “death-exemption vow” in his hand. “Then… since it is late, Your Majesty, this servant will take his leave first?”

“Go.” Ying Changchuan nodded lightly, putting the jade seal away casually.

Jiang Yuxun finally let out a sigh, stood, saluted, and quickly walked out.

Wind gusted through the hallways, carrying the chill of the spring rain, falling lightly upon his body.

The cold spread from his nape down.

He halted in his steps.

No… I did nothing guilty—what am I running for?

Soon, on the Yi River Plain, the winter wheat entered a crucial stage of growth.

On this rest day, Jiang Yuxun returned home in advance the previous night, bringing the Xuan Seal Supervisors with him.³

Nearly a year had passed.

The Jiang family’s estate no longer resembled the ruined state it had shown the previous year.

Not only was the distillery beginning to take shape, but the manor also had many more handmade greenhouses.

Yet, of all the changes throughout the manor, the most significant was in the acreage of cultivated land.

Now, most lands within the estate had been reclaimed.

Since the start of spring, green shoots spread in every corner.

Early in the morning, Jiang Yuxun was roused by the estate steward, Liu Run.

—Today the hired workers were to irrigate the wheat, which was the very reason Yuxun returned early.

Though spring mornings were still cold, Jiang Yuxun pulled his robe tightly around him, yawning as he stumbled toward the hill behind the manor.

Before he even reached the fields, the workers spotted him and called out loudly—

“Good morning, young master!”

“Young master, how come you are here so early?”

“It’s still early now, young master should go rest first, at noon we’ll come fetch you—”

To the laborers of the Jiang manor, their young master had long become godlike.

Seeing Jiang Yuxun appear at the fields so early, they were both excited and eager for him to rest instead.

To prevent frost damage, wheat could not be doused with heavy irrigation in spring, so watering was scheduled for midday.

By rights, Jiang Yuxun had no need to come this early.

Responding to their greetings, Jiang Yuxun yawned softly, then stepped forward. “I wanted to come check beforehand how you all fixed up the ‘Thirsty Crow.’”⁴

“Almost done!” The workers opened a path in the middle, revealing the bamboo piping before his eyes.

This was the very “Thirsty Crow” he spoke of.⁴

Jiang Yuxun bent to tap the bamboo pipe, then touched the joints where two main tubes connected.

The night before, the workers had sealed it with clay to ensure no leaks.

Now the mud had dried, locking the waterway.

While he was examining it seriously, the sudden sound of hooves came from a distance, making Yuxun look up instinctively.

The Imperial Grain Overseer, Zhuang Yue, responsible for the nation’s grain affairs, arrived early at the manor, together with his subordinate Cao Shenming, supervisor of farmlands across the realm, holding the title of “Jitian.”⁵

Yuxun hurriedly rose and saluted the two. “I did not know the two honored officials would come so early—please pardon me for not greeting afar.”

Zhuang Yue merely waved and smiled. “You are busy; don’t mind us.”

Cao Shenming then dismounted and returned a salute. “Apologies for disturbing Lord Jiang.”

The previous “Jitian” official had been dismissed last year due to involvement in palace coercion.

Cao Shenming, recently promoted, still showed a measure of restraint in manner.

“Lord Cao is too courteous,” Jiang Yuxun said, exchanging politeness while leading them toward the hillside, inspecting the piping along the way. “Please, both of you, mind your step.”

The Yi River plain was generally flat, but still broken by small hills.

Such a hill stood within the manor.

In terrain like this, building irrigation channels was not only difficult but also labor-intensive.

Last year the estate had been too busy, leaving no chance to dig permanent channels.

Moreover, Yuxun deemed winding mountain channels too troublesome.

He had instead sketched blueprints himself, passed them to his workers, who then built irrigation devices per the drawings.

—The “Thirsty Crow” bamboo system before them was born of this.

A long bamboo water pipe connected to the river on one end, straddled the hillside, and reached the fields on the other.

Today’s irrigation would draw water from here.

The younger Cao Shenming watched intently, repeatedly bending to tinker with the pipe.

Zhuang Yue, however, could not help confirming once again. “Nephew, are you certain this piping can draw water up the hillside?”

Jiang Yuxun nodded gently. “The workers already tested it days ago; Uncle Zhuang may rest easy.”

“…That is good.”

Zhuang Yue in truth had come with important duties.

The Jiang estate now served as a kind of “experimental base.”

All innovations had to be tested here before being spread elsewhere.

Their visit today was to verify firsthand whether the “Thirsty Crow” functioned as promised.

Before noon came, Yuxun led them over the hill to ensure the piping had no leaks, then back down toward the river source.

Unnoticed, the sun climbed high, and with temperatures rising, the time for irrigation approached.

Though prior experiments had been done, the workers were still nervous.

One looked up to the sky with anxious eyes. “Young master, shall we begin now?”

“Go ahead.” Jiang Yuxun nodded.

“Yes, young master!”

Five or six workers brought over bundles of dried grain stalks prepared beforehand.

They piled them at the bamboo inlet, then bent to light them on fire.

A booming sound rushed by Yuxun’s ears.

The dried stalks burst instantly into roaring flame.

Yuxun coughed from the smoke, guided the group to step back. “Beware of the fire.”

“Yes, young master.”

At once, only the crackle of burning straw filled the fields’ edge.

Everyone held their breath, circling over the hill toward the fields, gazes strained at the elevated “Thirsty Crow.”

Irrigation was crucial to farming; without water, reclaiming even vast lands meant nothing.

The most convenient lands along Yi River had already been reclaimed or distributed.

What remained were plots obstructed by low hills—hard to till, harder to irrigate.

If this Thirsty Crow system truly worked, once spread, it could draw water across mountains, unlocking swathes of land.

—Everyone was struck by this thought simultaneously.

Soon, the bamboo tubing had blackened with smoke, while the people circled the hill to the field side.

Workers armed with tools waited tensely at the outlet, poised for the coming flow.

Time passed—finally, young Cao Shenming broke first, anxious. “Lord Jiang, how long does it take for the Thirsty Crow to draw water up?”

He clenched his fists, very worried.

In contrast, Jiang Yuxun was calmer. Pressing his lips, he said, “It should be soon.”

Almost with his word, someone cried, “I hear it!”

He tightened his grip on his hoe.

Cao Shenming widened his eyes. “Where?”

Everyone’s sight shifted to the bamboo outlet at the field.

Over the crackle of burning straw carried round the hill, Jiang Yuxun heard the sound of water droplets falling inside the pipe.

He instinctively stepped closer.

“Careful—” Zhuang Yue reached to stop him, but at that moment, a gush of water burst from the bamboo.

His eyes flew wide. “It succeeded! The Thirsty Crow works!”

Next, he looked up excitedly at the piping over the hillside.

The bamboo tubing shook lightly under the rushing water, ringing crisply.

The outlet gushed ever greater, soon channeling streams through little ditches among the wheat fields.

Cao Shenming, moments earlier anxious, now shouted with elation, “Wonderful! The tracts near the Immortal Sojourn Palace can be developed this year!”

Loosening his grip, he sighed with relief.

Zhuang Yue nodded heavily. “Indeed so!”

Cao Shenming clapped his hands. “In future, the pipes can be sealed with lacquer—it is denser than mud!”

“Lord Cao is right,” Jiang Yuxun agreed. “Drawing water is only the first step; if used widely, we must continue improving.”

Cao Shenming nodded vigorously, pulling out a notebook, scribbling while muttering measurements aloud, absorbed in his calculations.

Yuxun nodded gently. “Lord Cao speaks well.”

Though not long acquainted, half a day sufficed to see—Cao Shenming was rigorously meticulous, truly suited for the position of Jitian.

He had been recommended by Zhuang Yue and finally appointed by Ying Changchuan himself.

Yuxun, reflecting, suddenly marveled.

…Since when had the Great Zhou’s court become filled with usable officials?

He had long known the former dynasty left the Zhou with a mess.

But only recently had he grasped how rotten it was.

A most telling example— the largest granary near Zhaodu was built beside the Yi River; last year’s flooding submerged the whole.

A stroke of luck that the granary had been abandoned over a decade, else it would have been catastrophic.

Summer harvests were not too far.

The old storehouses were clearly no longer usable—new ones were urgent.

Some locations had been chosen.

Now Jiang Yuxun’s task was to inspect them one by one and record their pros and cons for the emperor, who was busy drilling troops.

All potential sites were near Zhaodu, so Yuxun spent only a few days to visit them.

At Immortal Sojourn Palace, Flowing Clouds Hall—

The officials in charge of site selection, together with Zhuang Yue, gathered awaiting the Son of Heaven’s judgment.

Rain dripped faintly outside, spring wafting through the windows.

Holding his notes, Jiang Yuxun said to Ying Changchuan:

“Your Majesty, to avoid waterlogging and humidity, this time all sites are on elevated ground. Yet three lie before hills—though outwardly dry, they sit too near groundwater, risking unseen damp.”

The emperor inclined his head lightly. “And the other three?”

Jiang Yuxun hesitated. “One lies too far from the main road, making transport inconvenient—it should be ruled out first.”

“Another lies too close to towns—easier target for theft or vandalism,” he added, handing a report over to Ying Changchuan. “The last has a balanced set of conditions. Details are here.”

Ying Changchuan took the report.

At once, the other ministers held their breath.

They knew well the Son of Heaven’s habit of attending to all matters personally.

Before entering Flowing Clouds Hall, they had already prepared answers, even intending to guide him to inspect.

Who knew… the emperor simply glanced while conversing only with Jiang Yuxun, forgetting them entirely.

Yuxun answered smoothly, as though long used to it.

…What was this?

Though puzzled, the ministers exhaled in relief.

Zhuang Yue alone smiled with gratification. —It seemed His Majesty truly treasured A-Xun!

By noon, Eunuch Sang led court attendants in.

After the report, the emperor, assessing the sky’s height, summoned them to dine together in the hall—granary matters to be decided in the afternoon.

The eunuchs, clad in brown robes, carried lacquer trays into the hall, neatly setting ceremonial dishes for the officials.

As Censor-in-Chief, Jiang Yuxun sat before the emperor.

Before the servants reached him, his eyes drifted over colleagues’ tables, where only plain steamed vegetables and sweetish millet rice were laid—without even a scrap of meat.

Being invited to dine with the emperor was an honor.

Yet upon seeing such dishes, the portly official down the row could not conceal slight discouragement.

—Though mentally prepared, the fare was truly too bland!

Feeling the same, Jiang Yuxun’s own heart sank.

Well, as long as I don’t starve.

Lost in thought, his own table was suddenly set.

“Lord Jiang, please enjoy.” The attendant bowed and retreated.

Picking up his chopsticks, Yuxun glanced down—then froze.

Wait a moment!

Blinking, he compared his table with the others.

Unlike theirs, his table bore not only greens but also a dish of fish soup and soft, fragrant white rice!

In this land, one lived off what the mountains or rivers offered.

Neither white rice nor fish were common around Zhaodu.

The fish soup, freshly made, still steamed; its fragrance pierced right into his nose.

…The last time he ate such was during the southern tour.

At once a strange thought arose—

Had Ying Changchuan prepared this extra portion for me?

How did he know my tastes?

The fragrance set Jiang Yuxun’s appetite alight.

He spared only a moment of doubt before tossing nonsense aside.

Free food is food—what’s there to think?

He leaned forward eagerly but checked himself. Afraid others would notice the difference, he guiltily gathered dishes closer and peeked furtively.

The hall was silent.

Dozens of officials ate solemnly, with dozens of eunuchs and maids standing stationed.

Each focused on their duties.

Watching carefully till assured none noticed, Jiang Yuxun stealthily turned, and mouthed toward the emperor at his side: “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

At that moment, Ying Changchuan gazed right at him, smiling and nodding.

Only once the words left his lips did Jiang Yuxun realize how childish his secretive manner appeared—hardly befitting the dignified Minister of State.

…And most of all, since when must one thank the emperor covertly?

Should Zhuang Yue glance up now, he would surely think his nephew engaged in mischief.

Resolving quickly, Yuxun sat upright, with dignified poise, taking his chopsticks in elegance once more.

Yet from the corner of his eye—he saw Ying Changchuan not frowning at childishness, but instead—

Setting down his cup, arching a brow, and discreetly mouthing back—

“No need to thank me.”

…Wait.

You are the emperor! What are you being so secretive for!

Footnotes

1. “Exempt from death except for treason and great rebellion” (免死除謀反大逆) — In imperial law, a mian si (“death exemption”) decree protected someone from being sentenced to death except if guilty of major crimes like treason (moufan) or plotting rebellion (dani). It was essentially a “golden pardon license.”

2. “Imperial Seal” (皇帝之玺) — The most authoritative seal carried by the emperor, signifying authentication of decrees. The material “Hetian white jade” (羊脂玉) is prized for its smooth, milky luster.

3. “Xuan Seal Supervisors” (玄印監) — Likely a fictionalized or specialized bureau responsible for supervision and record-keeping under seals; here functioning as assistants accompanying Jiang Yuxun.

4. “Thirsty Crow” (渴烏) — Refers to a water-drawing device invented or adapted by Jiang Yuxun. It plays on a fable of a thirsty crow dropping stones into a jug to raise water. Here it designates bamboo piping capable of siphoning and transporting water uphill.

5. “Jitian” (籍田) — Historically, Jitian officials were responsible for royal or state farmlands, keeping registers and supervising agricultural production.