She paused, then clearly uttered three words:
"Sound the drum to appeal!"
"Let's file a complaint with the Emperor!"
The three characters “Dengwen Drum” struck the high ground like a bolt of lightning!
Everyone was stunned. Er Gou, Lao Li, Aunt Zhang… the survivors' eyes lit up instantly! That was the legendary grievance drum that reached directly to the heavens!
Wang Biao and the constables behind him instantly changed their expressions! Their fierceness turned into horror! Beating the Dengwen Drum to appeal to the emperor? If this succeeded and alarmed the capital, not only the county magistrate, but even the prefect would be in deep trouble!
"You... what nonsense are you spouting!" Wang Biao's voice trembled slightly as he pointed at Jiang Chan, his tone fierce but his voice weak. "Spreading rumors and misleading the public! Believe me or not, I'll arrest you right now and take you to the yamen!"
Jiang Chan showed no fear. Instead, she took a step forward, her voice suddenly rising in pitch, carrying a chilling, penetrating power. She was speaking not only to the constables, but also to all the survivors on the high ground:
"Tell the county magistrate! Either open the granaries and distribute grain to properly resettle all the disaster victims, and immediately investigate the embezzlement of funds intended for the dike! Or—"
Her gaze was like a knife, fixed on Wang Biao's terrified face:
"—We're just waiting for the people's blood oath, carrying the irrefutable evidence of these shoddy dikes, to reach the Emperor's ears! Let's see how the court views 'the people's resentment boiling over, stirring up a great upheaval'!"
"Public resentment" and "major changes"!
These four words struck Wang Biao and the constables like a heavy hammer blow! They looked at the pairs of eyes burning with anger on the high ground, at the shocking piles of rotten wood and garbage, and at the girl with cold eyes that seemed to see right through them...
A chill ran from the soles of Wang Biao's feet to the top of his head. His lips trembled as he pointed at Jiang Chan, "You...you just wait!"
He dared not linger any longer, and waved his hand in a flustered manner, "Go! Go quickly!" The two small boats turned around in a panic and rowed away quickly.
The yamen runners' boat disappeared hastily into the murky waters.
The deathly silence on the high ground lasted only a moment before erupting into a tremendous uproar! The survivors surrounded Jiang Chan, their eyes burning with a mixture of anger and hope.
"Really...really can we appeal to the emperor?" Aunt Zhang's voice trembled, filled with disbelief.
"What are you afraid of! We have evidence!" Er Gou waved his fist, pointing at the pile of rotten wood and rubble.
"Yes! Let the emperor see what his 'good official' has done!" Old Li shouted excitedly.
"Appeal to the Emperor! Beat the drum to appeal!" The shouts of the crowd converged, carrying a do-or-die spirit.
Jiang Chan waited until they calmed down a bit before speaking. Her voice was low, but it suppressed the commotion, "Appealing to the emperor isn't just about shouting. You need a written complaint, evidence, and the support of the people!"
She pointed to the shocking pile of rotten wood and filthy soil, "These are all physical evidence..."
Finally, her gaze swept over the faces of those who had endured so much suffering. "We, along with the millions of dead and living victims, are the witnesses!"
“Now, write the blood oath!” Jiang Chan declared resolutely.
"A letter written in blood?" Everyone was taken aback.
Jiang Chan walked to the edge of the shack, rummaged through the pile of junk and found a few relatively intact broken planks, and took out a small piece of charcoal she had collected earlier. She spread the planks flat on the ground.
“Old scholar,” Jiang Chan looked at the only educated, frail old man among the survivors, “you can read, so you take the pen. Write down our grievances, the tragic scene on the day the dike breached, the truth that the dike was made of shoddy materials, and the fact that corrupt officials were exploiting our blood and sweat! Don’t leave out a single word!”
Looking at Jiang Chan's cold gaze and then at the indignant villagers around him, a light ignited in the old scholar's cloudy eyes.
He nodded vigorously, took the charcoal, his hands still trembling slightly. "Okay! Okay! I'll write!"
"The plaintiffs, survivors of the breach in Qinghe County, Qingzhou Prefecture, and the river workers, weep and kowtow in gratitude..."
"...Torrential rains fell, and the river raged. We, the river workers, worked day and night, carrying loads on our shoulders and in our hands, building the dike with our own flesh and blood..."
"...However, the dike was as fragile as paper, and it breached suddenly, unleashing a monstrous surge of water..."
"...It was not a natural disaster, but a man-made one! The wooden stakes used for the dam were rotten to the bone; the rammed earth was filled with grass clippings and gravel..."
"...Corruption is rampant, and officials collude with businessmen! Funds for river works have all gone into private pockets! Rotten wood has been used instead of good timber, and garbage has been used to fill in the earthwork..."
"...Countless innocent souls perished beneath the dike, the living were displaced, and their homes were destroyed..."
"...I beg Your Honor, with tears streaming down my face, to investigate thoroughly, punish the corrupt officials, and clear my name..."
The old scholar knelt on the ground, painstakingly carving characters on a wooden board with charcoal, stroke by stroke. The characters were crooked, yet carried a heavy weight of strength.
With each sentence written, someone in the crowd couldn't help but sob softly; the words felt like knives stabbing into their hearts.
The wooden board was covered with writing. Jiang Chan looked at the crowd: "Anyone willing to file this complaint, come over and leave your fingerprints!"
Without hesitation.
Er Gou was the first to step forward, ready to bite his finger, but Jiang Chan immediately stopped him and pulled a round box from her "pockets"...
"Press this first..."
Er Gou did as he was told, and then pressed a bright red fingerprint on the end of the wooden board!
Count me in!
One, two, three... All the survivors on the highlands, regardless of gender, struggled forward as long as they could move.
The blank spaces on the wooden board were quickly covered with dense, large and small, bright red "bloody handprints"!
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