Chapter 94 Disaster Relief and Assistance: He was a rebel and a rioter.

Regardless of the implied meaning behind Wei Zhongxian's words, his thinking was certainly brilliant.

Should we send Zhu Yuanzhang back?

Are you thinking something good?

Django's fingers unconsciously rubbed together.

Over the past few days, she had been secretly observing and discovered that although Zhu Yuanzhang treated Wei Zhongxian with hostility, he surprisingly did not resort to more severe measures. It should be noted that, according to historical records, Zhu Yuanzhang would skin and stuff the skin of any official who embezzled even a few dozen taels of silver. The fact that Zhu Yuanzhang could restrain his temper and not whip Wei Zhongxian, such a corrupt and destructive figure, every day already surprised Jiang Ge.

“This road needs to be repaired as soon as possible,” Jiang Ge suddenly said, interrupting Wei Zhongxian’s thoughts.

She reined in her horse and looked down at the muddy official road beneath her feet. Days of rain had turned the dirt road into a quagmire, and the horse's hooves sank half a foot into it with every step. "Judging by this weather," she said, "it looks like the rain will continue for several more days."

Rainwater dripped down the edge of the green wall, splashing up murky water droplets on the bluestone slabs.

Inside the Songyang County government office, Jiang Ge rubbed his sore eyes and gently put down the official document in his hand. The candle on the desk had burned down to almost nothing, the wax dripping down like a small mountain. Outside the window, the sky was as dark as ink; it had been the third consecutive day without sunlight. The damp air was filled with a strange smell, a mixture of musty and ink.

I feel like there are cockroaches even in the dark.

"Magistrate Jiang, something terrible has happened!" Qin Shubao burst in without even knocking, rainwater soaking into his raincoat and leaving dark stains on the blue brick floor. This usually energetic man was now filled with anxiety: "A large number of refugees have arrived from outside the city, all fleeing from the north! They say the floodwaters have breached the dikes, and the entire village is submerged!"

Many people were lying at the city gate; it was a heartbreaking sight, and there were also many children.

Jiang Ge abruptly stood up, her sleeve knocking over a teacup on the table. The brown tea seeped onto the official documents, staining the ink. Ignoring this, she asked urgently, "How many people? What's the situation?"

"A dense, dark mass, at least three or four hundred people," Qin Shubao wiped the rain from his face. "Most are the elderly, women, and children; several children are running high fevers, lying in the mud, shivering. Yuchi Jingde is trying to maintain order at the city gate, but the refugees are becoming increasingly agitated..."

Jiang Ge frowned, strode towards the door, and grabbed a raincoat hanging by the door, putting it on. The rough palm leaves of the raincoat pricked her neck, making it itch, but she didn't care. Qin Shubao quickly followed, and the two rushed into the rain one after the other.

Although the city wall of Songyang County is not high, it is sturdy and thick.

Climbing to the top of the city gate tower, Jiang Ge looked down and saw a group of ragged people slowly moving along the muddy road outside the city. Among them were elderly people leaning on tree branches, women carrying babies, and children with sallow faces and vacant eyes. Most heartbreaking were several patients lying on makeshift stretchers, rain lashing their pale faces, yet none of them had the strength to raise their hands to shield themselves from the rain.

"Open the city gates," Jiang Ge said in a deep voice, his tone resolute and unwavering.

"Magistrate Jiang, with so many people, what if..." Qin Shubao hesitated, his fingers nervously rubbing the hilt of his sword.

Jiang Ge knew what he was worried about. There was a high possibility that the disaster victims were hiding a disease, and if it broke out in the city, the consequences would be unimaginable. But looking at the children shivering in the rain, she gritted her teeth: "Are we just letting them stand outside the city, getting soaked and waiting to die? Go and inform Zhou Yu and Zhuge Liang to come to the county office immediately for a meeting. Also, send someone to invite several wealthy family heads in the city; tell them I have important matters to discuss with them."

The heavy city gate slowly opened with a dull creak as the winch turned. The refugees looked up blankly, a glimmer of hope flashing in their eyes. Jiang Ge walked down the city wall and stood inside the gate. Rain dripped from her raincoat at her feet, forming small puddles on the bluestone slabs.

"Fellow villagers, I am Jiang Ge, the magistrate of Songyang County." Her voice was not loud, but it reached everyone's ears clearly. "Natural disasters are merciless, but people are compassionate. Since you have come to Songyang County, I will do my best to settle you down."

Among the disaster victims, an elderly man with white hair knelt down shakily, his knees sinking into the mud and water: "Your Honor, please save us! There are more than 30 households in our village. A flood washed everything away... My son was swept away by the flood while trying to save the neighbor's child..." The old man was sobbing uncontrollably by the end.

Jiang Ge quickly stepped forward to help the old man up, but his hands were burning hot. "Grandpa, do you have a fever?"

The old man shook his head, as if about to say something, but suddenly coughed violently, spitting a mouthful of bloody phlegm onto the muddy ground. Jiang Ge's heart tightened, and she turned to Wei Zhongxian behind her, saying, "Immediately go and fetch a doctor to the county office. Also, send someone to clean up that abandoned military camp in the west of the city and use it as a temporary shelter." She paused, then added in a low voice, "Remember to sprinkle lime around the camp, and everyone entering and leaving must fumigate their clothes with vinegar. Also, have the kitchen make plenty of ginger soup."

This was to temporarily separate the disaster victims from the county residents. A hint of surprise flashed in Wei Zhongxian's eyes, as if he hadn't expected Magistrate Jiang to be so considerate, but he quickly composed himself, accepted the order, and left.

The refugees were guided into the city. Django noticed that the floodwaters on the streets were already ankle-deep, with withered branches, fallen leaves, and various debris floating on the murky surface. She crouched down and probed the drainage ditches with her finger, finding the water almost stagnant. This was not a good sign; if drainage was impaired, the floodwaters would become a breeding ground for disease.

Back at the county office, Zhou Yu and Zhuge Liang had been waiting for some time. Upon seeing Jiang Ge enter, the two immediately greeted him: "Sir, regarding the resettlement of the disaster victims..."

"We've arranged for them to stay temporarily in the abandoned military camp." Jiang Ge took off his raincoat and hung it up; his soaked official robes clung to his body, icy cold. "Right now, the most urgent needs are food and medicine. Gongjin, how much grain is left in the county granary?"

Zhou Yu opened the account book he carried with him; the pages were slightly wrinkled from the dampness. "Reporting to you, sir," he said, "the newly collected taxes, plus those to be handed over to the prefecture, currently amount to approximately 1,200 shi of rice, 300 shi of beans, and 50 shi of salt. If we calculate based on half a jin of rice per person per day..."

Jiang Ge did some mental calculations, then frowned even more: "First, open the granaries and set up soup kitchens, providing two meals of thin porridge a day to ensure the disaster victims don't go hungry. Also, send people to the city's pharmacies to collect medicinal herbs for treating colds and diarrhea. Remember, all yamen runners who have been in contact with the disaster victims must wash their hands and change their clothes with vinegar water afterward."

Zhou Yu hesitated, saying, "My lord, opening the granaries and distributing grain requires approval from the prefectural government... The official document requesting the suppression of bandits last time was just sent, and I reckon it's already reached the capital. This operation is even larger than last time, and we don't know the details of these refugees..."

“In times of emergency, expediency is necessary.” Jiang Ge interrupted him, tapping her fingers on the table. “Saving lives is the priority now. I will submit a written explanation later.” She paused, then pointed to the heavily flooded streets outside the window: “If this rain continues for a few more days and the floodwaters don’t recede, a plague will surely break out. At that point, it won’t just be a matter of a few hundred disaster victims, but a matter of life and death for the entire city.”

Zhou Yu's expression hardened, and he quickly nodded: "I have read through the county annals and learned that the county's drainage system has not been repaired for more than 20 years since it was built in the previous dynasty. Merchants had previously jointly petitioned for repairs, but it has been put on hold due to insufficient funds."

As they were talking, the heads of several prominent families in the city arrived one after another. Qian Wansan, the manager of the money exchange, stroked his beard; Zhao Dequan, the owner of the cloth shop, rubbed the jade thumb ring on his finger; and Sun Fugui, the owner of the grain store, kept wiping non-existent sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief. After briefly explaining the disaster situation, Jiang Ge got straight to the point: "You are all prominent figures in Songyang. Now that disaster victims are pouring in, I hope you can lend a helping hand and donate some grain and clothing."

Qian Wansan's eyes darted around. "Sir," he said, "it's not that we're unwilling to help, but these refugees have come in numbers of several hundred at a time. If this continues, I'm afraid..."

"Don't worry, Manager Qian." Jiang Ge was prepared. He took out a roll of blueprints from his sleeve and spread them out on the table. "I plan to organize the disaster victims to repair the county's drainage system as a form of work relief. Please take a look, this is the county's drainage plan. After the project is completed, it will not only solve the livelihood of the disaster victims, but also solve the problem of waterlogging in the city once and for all."

Zhao Dequan's eyes lit up, and he pointed to a red line on the map: "Sir, this line passes right by the street in front of my cloth shop! It's the rainy season now, and floodwaters have inundated the shop, causing the loss of over a hundred bolts of fine silk. If it can be repaired, I'm willing to donate a hundred bolts of cloth!"

Seeing that someone had taken the lead, the other heads of households also expressed their support. Jiang Ge bowed in thanks, secretly relieved. These gentry were extremely shrewd; if it were just about disaster relief, they would definitely make excuses. But by linking the resettlement of the disaster victims to their own interests, things became much easier.

The meeting ended in the afternoon. Jiang Ge, without even having lunch, went straight to the abandoned military camp where disaster victims were temporarily housed. On the way, she made a detour to check the soup kitchen. Several large iron pots sat under makeshift thatched sheds, flames licking the bottoms of the pots from the stoves, the thin porridge bubbling gently. The disaster victims lined up, their faces pale and thin, but their order was impeccable. Several constables maintained order, occasionally helping the elderly and children serve porridge.

Inside the military camp, Physician Li was treating an elderly man with a fever. Upon seeing Jiang Ge enter, Physician Li rose and bowed, saying, "Sir, this old man has caught a cold and is also overworked. Fortunately, it is not an epidemic. I have already prescribed medicine; he will recover after a few days of rest."

Jiang Ge nodded, "Thank you for your trouble, Physician Li." She looked around; although the abandoned military camp was dilapidated, the buildings were still structurally sound. Wei Zhongxian had already spread lime around the perimeter as she had instructed, and a faint smell of vinegar filled the air. Several women were brewing medicine, the aroma of which mixed with the scent of ginger soup, dispelling the camp's original musty smell.

“The terrain here is low-lying, and the drainage is even worse than in the city,” Jiang Ge said, pointing to the stagnant water in the yard that had almost turned into a pond.

Zhou Yu followed beside her, while the beautiful woman frowned, saying, "Magistrate Jiang, if we want to repair the drainage system, we need to first draw up detailed blueprints, calculate the materials and labor, and recruit craftsmen..."

“No need for new drawings.” A glint flashed in Django’s eyes as he took out a roll of pristine white drawings from his pocket. “This is the improvement plan I prepared long ago. No need for major changes; just dredge and reinforce it as before, and add a few branch canals at key points.”

Zhou Yu took the blueprints in surprise. The lines were neat and the annotations detailed, even specifying the depth and width of each section of the canal. "You even prepared this, sir? The material of these blueprints is so special, but..."

The rest didn't need to be explained; the two understood.

Jiang Ge smiled but didn't answer. This was engineering drawing paper she'd bought from the system store, certainly different from the rough hemp paper of this era. She squatted down and drew a few lines on the ground with her finger: "The main canal starts here, running east-west through the entire city, with branch canals distributed north-south... Huh?"

A boy of about ten years old approached timidly, his dirty little hands clutching the hem of his tattered clothes: "Sir, my father is a stonemason, he knows how to build ditches... He's sick, but he said that when he gets better, he'd like to work to repay you..."

Django asked gently, "Where is your father?"

The boy pointed to a middle-aged man coughing in the corner. Django walked over and found that although the man's face was pale, his hands were large and strong, with prominent knuckles and calloused palms, making him look like a craftsman.

"Brother, have you ever participated in drainage projects?" Jiang Ge squatted down and looked the man in the eye.

The man struggled to his feet and bowed, his voice hoarse: "Your Excellency, I repaired irrigation ditches in my hometown...and I know a little about stonework..."

"Good!" Jiang Ge patted him on the shoulder. "Once you're better, I'll have something to ask you. You'll be paid the market rate; I won't treat you unfairly."

For the next few days, Django barely touched the ground. During the day, she inspected the soup kitchens and drainage ditches, personally supervising workers to clear blocked channels; at night, she studied engineering drawings late into the night, calculating the required materials and manpower. Under her coordination, the disaster victims gradually settled down.

Preliminary cleanup work for the drainage project has also begun. Most reassuringly, under the care of Dr. Li, most of the sick disaster victims have recovered from their fevers, and there are no signs of the epidemic spreading.

Meanwhile, the imperial court received an urgent official document from Songyang County. This memorial, meticulously polished by Zhuge Liang, lavishly praised Jiang Ge's "bandit suppression achievements" and depicted the local situation as peaceful and harmonious. The memorial was eloquently written, and between the lines, it revealed a desire for credit and reward. Anyone who read it would think that Jiang Ge, the magistrate of Songyang County, was a rare and capable minister.

However, when this memorial was presented to the First Prince, it elicited a completely different reaction. After carefully reading it, the First Prince's expression changed drastically. He then slammed the memorial to the ground, causing the fine Duan inkstone to bounce and splatter ink onto the luxurious carpet.

"Insolent! Utterly foolish!" The First Prince was furious, pacing back and forth as the hem of his robe swept over a teacup on the table. "Not only did they fail to handle a small county like Songyang properly, they've also gotten themselves into trouble! What's even more infuriating is..." He pointed to another urgent report on the table, "In the recent flood-stricken prefectures, refugees have scattered and fled, displaced and homeless, and these unruly people actually dare to gather and cause trouble!"

The two events collided, resulting in a double loss for the prince, who suddenly felt a sense of being out of control.

The officials standing by fell silent, even their breathing became shallow. The First Prince's eyes flashed coldly, and he suddenly stopped. "Send the order: immediately mobilize the surrounding troops and severely punish the troublemakers! As for that magistrate of Songyang County..." He sneered, "Have the inspector thoroughly investigate and see what tricks she's playing!"

On the morning of the fifth day, the continuous rain that had lasted for several days finally stopped. The long-awaited sunshine pierced through the clouds, shining on the flooded streets and reflecting shimmering light. Jiang Ge got up early and, with Zhou Yu and Huo Qubing, conducted an on-site inspection of the drainage system. They came to a low-lying area in the east of the city, where the water was already above knee-deep, and various kinds of household garbage floated on the surface.

“Gongjin, look.” Jiang Ge pushed aside the floating debris on the water’s surface, revealing the drainage outlet underneath. She rolled up her sleeves and reached her arm into the water to feel around. “This was supposed to be a bend in the main canal, but it’s been completely blocked by silt and debris.”

Zhou Yu squatted beside him, his brow furrowed: "Clearing this section will require at least twenty strong laborers working for three days. Currently, there are no more than fifty able-bodied people among the disaster victims, and some will also need to be assigned to repair soup kitchens and prepare medicine..."

Django smiled, his wet arms glistening in the sunlight: "Perfect timing. There are over thirty able-bodied men among the disaster victims who are worried about finding work. Work-for-relief is a win-win situation. By the way, is the stonemason feeling any better?"

Just then, Wei Zhongxian rushed over, his boots splashing water as he stepped into the water: "Magistrate Jiang, people from the prefecture have arrived! They say the inspector will arrive tomorrow to check on the resettlement of the disaster victims."

Django frowned slightly, then relaxed: "Perfect timing. This drainage project is our best answer."

Zhou Yu, however, was filled with worry: "But the project has only just begun, and the results are not yet obvious..."

“No.” Jiang Ge pointed to a section of ditch not far away that had been cleared, where the water had clearly receded considerably. “We’ve made a good start. The inspector is most concerned about whether the disaster victims are becoming a burden on the local area. If we can demonstrate that the disaster victims not only haven’t hindered Songyang, but have actually helped improve the county’s infrastructure…”

Before she could finish speaking, a burst of cheers erupted. Turning around, she saw a group of children from the disaster-stricken area playing in the clearing water, sunlight shining on their faces, which had finally regained their color. A woman, holding a baby, bowed deeply to Django, tears welling in her eyes.

Django suddenly felt that all the fatigue of the past few days was worth it.

"Isn't this the result?"

——

Li Dashan squatted in a corner of the threshing ground, his rough fingers unconsciously picking at the cracks in the ground. His stomach, which hadn't eaten for days, no longer felt hungry, only a dull ache, as if someone was pressing down on his intestines with a millstone.

The area was packed with people.

Ragged farmers, disheveled women, and teenagers clutching sharpened sticks—they were all people driven to desperation by the flood. They stood silently, their eyes burning with the same intensity.

Li Dashan recognized that look in his eyes.

It felt like his fingernails were embedded in his palm when he dug the hole to bury his wife and children.

Suddenly, a broken gong rang out!

A stir ran through the crowd. Li Dashan looked up and saw Zhang Baichuan jump onto the millstone. This former private tutor was now so thin that his cheekbones protruded, and the hem of his long robe was torn into strips, but his eyes were frighteningly bright.

Unexpectedly, this gentle scholar was the first to jump out and rebel.

"Fellow villagers!"

Zhang Baichuan's voice was like a dull knife scraping bone, hoarse yet sharp. He held up a roll of yellowed paper—Li Dashan squinted and recognized it as a notice from the county government.

Do you recognize this?

A few sobs rose from the crowd. An old man suddenly knelt on the ground, his forehead pressed to the dirt, and wailed, "They said the relief supplies would arrive soon, but my grandson..."

Zhang Baichuan ripped the notice to shreds, the scraps falling like paper money into the crowd.

"They said they would provide disaster relief and distribute grain, but where is the grain?" He suddenly ripped open his shirt, revealing gruesome whip marks on his ribs. "I went to the county government to demand an explanation, and this is all I got!"

Li Dashan's breath hitched. The wound was festering, black, and deep.

The threshing ground fell into a deathly silence as it looked at the wound.

Even the wind stopped.

"The government wants us dead—" Zhang Baichuan suddenly grabbed the wooden bucket next to the millstone and slammed it to the ground. "We'd rather live!"

Amidst the cracking sound of the wooden bucket shattering, Li Dashan heard the sound of his teeth grinding together. He remembered the day the flood came, how many people were drowned, while three miles away on the riverbank, officials' sedan chairs were being carried uphill...

"Where is the way out?" a cry erupted from the crowd.

Zhang Baichuan smiled. He bent down and pulled a rusty woodcutter's knife from under the millstone, the tip of the knife scraping across the bluestone, sending up a trail of sparks.

"In the government granary!"

"On the head of that corrupt official!"

"It's in our own hands!"

Hundreds of emaciated bodies suddenly leaned forward simultaneously, like crops bent by a gale suddenly springing back up. Li Dashan felt something scalding hot well up from his eyes—not tears, but blood.

The sound of horses' hooves could be heard in the distance.

Zhang Baichuan raised his wood-chopping knife, the blade reflecting the dark, overcast sky: "Today, you'll either starve to death—"

"Either fight your way out!"

A superhuman roar suddenly erupted from the threshing ground. When Li Dashan touched the sickle in his arms, he found that the rusty blade had been soaked in the hot blood from his palm and was now shining.

He squeezed into the surging crowd and saw the lame old man who was the first to rush out pierce the stomach of the yamen runner with a carrying pole.

The moment the blood spurted out, Li Dashan finally understood—

He knew that from this day forward, he was no longer that honest, simple farmer.

He is a traitor.

They are rioters.

It was a head on the government's wanted list.

But he finally lived like a human being.

-----------------------

The author's note: Jianglan's endangered scenic area has once again been criticized by the Culture and Tourism Bureau.

While working late into the night revising a plan, she suddenly became connected to a strange system—

【Eternal Cultural Tourism Poverty Alleviation Plan】

The next morning, a young girl dressed in Ming Dynasty Hanfu stood timidly at the ticket office of the scenic area:

"I am Wan Zhen'er. I heard that this place is hiring... so I have come to apply?"

Jiang Lan: "...?"

Are extras this lazy these days?

Until Wan Zhen'er disappeared from her sight.

Until the scenic area's live stream was trending on Weibo with the hashtag #Sister'sSwordDanceIsSoCool#.

until--

Empress Lü was extremely popular at the scenic spot, and everyone asked her about promotions and raises.

until--

Xu Fu's fortune-telling business at the scenic area is incredibly popular.

Jiang Lan looked at the rapidly increasing account balance and suddenly realized:

This isn't just hiring; it's bringing together the wisdom of our ancestors in both ancient and modern times!

Later, reporters interviewed the wildly popular "Gujintong" cultural tourism complex:

"How did you come up with the idea of ​​having景区 employees cosplay historical figures?"

"Is this what you call... innovative development of traditional culture?" Jiang Lan wiped his sweat and smiled.

Check out my rough draft of the new copy! [Let me see] Ta-da! What do you think? This inspiration came from a video I recently watched about Wansui Mountain. I realized that if we change it to a scenic spot, we can add some other elements while retaining the original style. Also, I really want to write about the clash of ideas between female historical figures and modern women, and their transformations after returning home. Originally, I wanted to follow the underworld recruitment theme and combine it with the version about male historical figures, but due to reader requests, I'll still write both. However, I'll do it after I finish my first novel first. [Shrug][Shrug][Shrug]