LBLCPCB C20

Chapter 20

Zhu Lingye entered holding the Imperial Sword and stood firm at Zhu Song’s side.

Zhu Song raised the sword toward heaven and announced:

“Jizhou suffers calamity; His Majesty grieves deeply, and so he appoints me Imperial Envoy, empowered over all matters of Jizhou. To lessen suffering and protect the lives of the people, the Emperor has entrusted me with the Imperial Sword. With it I may strike down corrupt officials above and treacherous commoners below, acting at discretion.”

His gaze swept the merchants and landlords crowding the right side of the hall. His voice cut sharp:

“Disaster has struck, countless countrymen languish beyond the walls. You had the means to aid and yet stood idle. That is treachery. Drag them out, execute them at once!”

The order thundered. At once, panic exploded. The guilty surged leftward en masse, voices tumbling over each other:

“My lord, we chose wrong! We are willing to accept refugees!”

“Yes, yes, we too! A mistake!”

“We will shelter them!”

“I will! I will!”

Thousands of cicadas could not have shrieked louder. The hall rang with fear of death.

Zhu Song let them stew a moment, then demanded coldly:

“Since you will take payment, then name your price. How do you intend to charge?”

Hesitation. Eyes darted from man to man. At last, one glanced at Duan Zhenghong and offered timidly:

“Perhaps—we take half the market rate?”

Another seized upon it. “Yes, half the rate!”

But Zhu gave no word. Murmurs grew restless. Duan Zhenghong eventually rumbled:

“Lord Zhu, why not speak your will directly? Delay brings only more hardship for those outside.”

Yi Kangning added quickly, “Indeed, Lord Zhu. Darkness falls—best to fix it, open the gates, bring them in.”

Zhu pressed lips thin. “This crisis leaves no time for haggling. Whatever price you name, I raise no objection. But remember—His Majesty did not hand me any silver. He told me only to act at discretion. So I ponder—what if all debt be written onto His Majesty’s account? In time, you claim it from the court.”

Shocked gasps. Pale faces. Who dares seek money from the Son of Heaven?

Duan Zhenghong deflected. “If it is to be debt—ought not Lord Zhu give written notes?”

Cautiously emboldened, others clamored agreement: “Yes, receipts at least!”

Zhu smiled faintly. “Reasonable. Yet the disaster still rages. None can gauge how long lodging be needed, nor totals owed. Better wait until it ends. Then I shall certify all at once.”

His eyes snapped to Duan as he opened his mouth: “Why, Duan‑daren, do you object?”

Those cold pupils fixed upon him. He bit his tongue and muttered: “Lord Zhu will not remain forever in Jizhou. I am Governor here. For every soul, I am responsible.”

Zhu’s laugh was frosted steel. “Admirable words. Yet perhaps spare some of that heart for the weak outside the gates.”

Barbs lodged. Duan’s face soured, but with sword in Zhu’s hand, he dared no defiance. “Very well. According to Lord Zhu’s command.”

“Anyone else?” Zhu called over the hall.

“No more, no more,” voices chorused.

“Then muster all hands,” Zhu barked. “Open the gates. Admit the people. By dawn they must have shelter.”

Thus the Prefecture, the Governor’s Office, and all yamen mobilized. Streets sealed, gates creaked open. Refugees passed in one by one, guided into shops and houses measured by capacity. Each filled space closed its doors before the next opened. Though crowds were vast and some tried to push or cheat, the soldiers suppressed them quickly. By sunrise, every soul was within the city sheltered.

Yet fresh trouble arose. Soaked for so long, the people broke into fevers en masse. Firewood fell short: no hot water to cure them. Physicians too few, food stores dwindling.

Yi Kangning and Duan Zhenghong wrung hands before Zhu Song.

“Lord Zhu—now this is in shortage, that is in shortage, the rains show no end. Think of something!”

Zhu closed the ledger before him and arched a brow. “How would the two of you solve it?”

Yi sighed in relief. “The province cannot bear it. Only more aid from the Court will suffice.”

“I agree,” Zhu said smoothly, then went on: “Jizhou’s books are chaos. I should certainly submit a memorial to the Emperor explaining all.”

Yi froze, color draining. “Lord Zhu—what is your meaning?”

“My meaning,” Zhu rested a finger upon a damning ledger, “is that the books cannot pass scrutiny.”

Duan Zhenghong snapped, “Accusations require proof. You may not abuse the sword to do as you will.”

Zhu jabbed the columns with his finger: “For camps—80,000 taels spent. Yet timber rotten, beams moth‑eaten. Collapse came during construction, not flood.

For supplies—70,000 taels spent: 40,000 on food, 30,000 on clothing. Yet in truth, food was from government stores, no records of purchase. And no refugee has seen a single quilt or robe.

I ask you: where did the Emperor’s relief fund go?”

Yi gaped, fumbling denial. “Lord Zhu—”

Zhu’s gaze cut him off. His hand rested heavily upon the Imperial Sword gleaming beside him. “Think before you speak. Relief silver is sacred—lives depend upon it. Should you falsify, I cannot vouch your safety.”

Cold sweat broke across Yi’s back. His eyes flicked to Duan.

Duan’s mouth hardened. But finally he bowed stiffly: “The flood struck fierce—Yi and I labored to rescue. We never checked accounts. They were handled entirely by subordinates. We knew nothing.”

Yi rushed to echo, “Yes, we were too busy with relief… I had no idea the books could be so…”

Zhu’s eyes like snow, lips like knives. Then he smiled faintly. “Indeed, battle‑tested elders as yourselves would never trifle with human lives. I trust you. It is under you the theft occurred—so you must provide me answers. Money first, excuses later. Thousands of lives hang waiting. Correct?”

They sweated, bowed, muttered they would “investigate at once.”

“I will give you two days,” Zhu said. “Our food lasts but three. I expect answers in two.”

“Yes… yes…”

Dismissed, they scuttled off like whipped curs. Zhu’s smile vanished cold the moment their backs turned.

He summoned Zhu Lingye, handed him the white jade rabbit pendant given by Xu Songlan.

“Summon every Xinglin Hall physician nearby. This is Xu family’s heirloom token. With it, they will come.”³

Lingye’s shock showed. “Xu Songlan was Xu family heir?”

Zhu nodded: “Hurry.”

Behind his back, Yi and Duan hastened together to see Song Shunran, the Vice‑Minister envoy.

“Lord Song, save us!”

Inside, Song looked far from sick. His face was rosy, sipping tea serenely. “Wailing again? You waste good air.”

Yi trembled. “You know not—Zhu Song found ledger flaws, demands the funds in two days! We have no silver!”

Song’s eyes gleamed, calm. “And why stare at me? I took none.”

Duan scowled. “Then what shall we do?”

“Silver may be scarce.” Song’s lips curled into a smirk. “But Zhu Song is easier to deal with than silver.”

Yi paled. “But the Imperial Sword—”

Song laughed. “A sword is only a sword if wielded. Remove Zhu Song, and it’s just ornament.”

Their minds stirred. Yet Yi hesitated. “We don’t know his… inclinations.”

Song chuckled dark. “If he’s a normal man, he thirsts for one of two things—gold or flesh. We know his flaw: beauty. Look at him—rigid bones outside, yet reach him with a beauty and he melts.”

Yi perked. “Perfect! Duan‑daren’s harem of concubines are famed for their skill. Surely one could subdue him.”

At once Duan soured. His darlings were his treasures. Song sneered knowingly. “Bah. Think of the future, man. Aid us, and you’ll rise to the capital itself. When consorts like the First Beauty of the Empire come as gifts, will you miss these trifles?”

At mention of the famed unrivaled beauty, Duan’s greed overcame. He’d long dreamed of her but never hoped beyond gazing at portraits.

“Fine,” he muttered. “Tonight I’ll send one.”

Song wagged a finger. “Still too stupid. Zhu Song—his facade is flawless. Hand him a gift at his door, he’ll rebuke, not accept. You must trap him. Slip her into his chambers. Burn incense, stir the blood, ignite the night. Let grain into rice—and he is caught.”

Duan’s eyes glittered at the wicked scheme. “I understand.”

Song’s smile curved serpent‑fine. “Off with you. Prepare.”

“Yes.”

Footnotes

1. Black‑hat (烏紗帽) — emblematic headgear of imperial officials; “change its color” = lose office.