Qiao'er dared not say anything more and had no choice but to do as she was told.
Watching the disaster victims scramble for dry rations, Chen Qingwan felt a mix of emotions.
She knew that this small amount of food was just a drop in the bucket and couldn't solve the fundamental problem.
"Your Majesty, the Prefect of Qingzhou requests an audience."
A guard stepped forward to report.
"Have him come over," Chen Qingwan said.
A short while later, a fat man with a greasy face walked over.
Bowing and scraping in greeting:
"Your humble servant greets Your Majesty!"
Chen Qingwan glanced at him and sneered inwardly.
This Qingzhou region can still maintain such a "prosperous state" even at times like this.
It's clear that he has been ruthlessly exploiting the people.
"No need for formalities," Chen Qingwan said calmly.
"Qingzhou is suffering from drought. As the prefect, do you have any solutions?"
The prefect wiped the sweat from his brow and said with a mournful face:
"Your Majesty, this drought... is a once-in-a-century event! Your humble servant... is powerless to help!"
"Powerless?" Chen Qingwan's tone was icy.
"I see you as someone who holds a position without doing any work!"
"Drought is a natural disaster, but the people are displaced and starving, isn't that your responsibility as the governor?"
The prefect was so frightened that he fell to his knees with a thud:
"Your Majesty, spare me! Your Majesty, spare me! This humble servant...this humble servant has done his best!"
"You did your best?" Chen Qingwan sneered.
"Is your so-called 'doing your best' just to fatten yourself up while letting the people starve to death?"
"Your Majesty, I have been wronged!" the governor cried out.
"Your humble servant... Your humble servant has already submitted a memorial to the court, requesting disaster relief!"
"Submit a memorial to the imperial court?" Chen Qingwan laughed angrily.
When will the imperial relief grain arrive?
"By the time we arrive, how many people in Qingzhou will be left alive?"
The prefect dared not speak again, but kept kowtowing and begging for mercy.
Chen Qingwan looked at this corrupt official and wished she could kick him away.
But she knew that now was not the time to assign blame; the immediate priority was to resolve the current predicament.
"Qiao'er, go, tie this corrupt official up!"
Chen Qingwan shouted sternly.
"I want to see just how much grain is left in the Qingzhou granary!"
Chen Qingwan snatched the guard's sword.
Pointing at the prefect's enormous belly, he said viciously:
"Lead the way! If you dare to try anything funny, I'll make a hole in your stomach first!"
The prefect was so frightened that he scrambled to his feet and ran towards the treasury...
The prefect's fat jiggled wildly, like a ball of flesh.
He scrambled and stumbled along the way, afraid that if he slowed down even a step, the Empress's sword would pierce him through!
Chen Qingwan and Qiao'er were also furious and followed closely behind.
The treasury gates were tightly shut, and cobwebs covered the area.
A rotten smell hit my nose; it was obvious that it hadn't been driven in a long time!
"What? The grain has all rotted inside?"
Chen Qingwan sneered, her brows furrowed with a sharp, murderous aura.
The prefect was so frightened that he fell to his knees with a thud.
He shakily pulled out his keys.
The key was rusty and made a harsh "creaking" sound as it rubbed against the keyhole.
"Can't open it? It seems the grain in this granary is truly rotten to the core."
Chen Qingwan's voice was icy, and her eyes flashed with a cold light.
The prefect was deathly pale, sweating profusely, and frantically twisting the key.
Finally, with a "click," the lock opened.
Chen Qingwan kicked the door open.
A musty smell hit her face, almost making her faint.
The treasury was completely empty.
Except for a few fat rats scurrying around in the corner.
Where is there any grain left?
silence.
A deathly silence.
Chen Qingwan's face was terribly gloomy.
She slowly drew her sword, the tip pointing directly at the governor's throat.
"Where is the food?"
Her voice was deep and dangerous, as if it came from the depths of hell.
The prefect trembled all over, his lips quivered, and he couldn't utter a single word.
"say!"
Chen Qingwan shouted angrily, which frightened the prefect so much that he wet his pants on the spot.
"Your Majesty...Your Majesty, spare us! This...this grain..."
The prefect's speech was incoherent, as if he had been drinking fake alcohol.
Sweat poured down like a waterfall
He looked like he had been pulled out of the water.
Where is the grain?
Chen Qingwan emphasized her words, and the tip of her sword moved even closer.
"This...this...it's...it's been stolen..."
The prefect stammered out a few words.
"Stolen? The Qingzhou treasury is impregnable; who could possibly steal it?"
Chen Qingwan sneered, clearly not believing his nonsense.
"It really...it really was stolen...This humble servant...this humble servant didn't know..."
The prefect cried out, his forehead was bruised and blood was flowing down his cheeks.
"Qiao'er, beat him! Beat him until he tells the truth!"
Enraged, Chen Qingwan threw the sword at Qiao'er.
Qiao'er took the sword and sneered.
The prefect was dragged away, and his shrill screams echoed through the government office.
Chen Qingwan stood in the empty treasury, her heart churning with anger.
This corrupt official dared to be so audacious as to embezzle all the grain!
After some time, Qiao'er returned.
He was still carrying the half-dead prefect in his hand.
"Tell me! Where is the grain?!"
Chen Qingwan shouted sternly.
The prefect, on his deathbed, spoke haltingly:
"Sold...sold..."
"Sold? Sold to whom? Where's the money?" Chen Qingwan pressed on relentlessly.
The prefect's calves were cramping.
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