Chapter 94 More Cruel Than Me (Minor Adjustment)
This riot was primarily centered in the eastern Huainan region, centered in Yangzhou, with Suzhou and Taizhou responding in the north and south, and affecting more than a dozen surrounding prefectures and counties. Huainan East, a region renowned for its prosperity and extensive waterways, connects to the Bian River in the north and the Huai River in the south, perfectly situated at the nexus of Bianliang. Unexpectedly, the sudden uprising in such a strategic location alarmed the emperor and his entire court.
Zhongli He replaced General Zhongli as the defender of Bianliang City. The King of Qin led 30,000 of the 50,000 troops defending the capital southeastward, traveling along the Huainan West Road through Suzhou to Yangzhou. Zhao Xuanxu led half of the Twelve Guards, nearly 30,000 troops, eastward across Chuzhou to Taizhou, ultimately joining the King of Qin in attacking Yangzhou. This strategic plan, carefully planned by the ministers, was a matter of great caution.
The next day, at daybreak, the army continued its march, smoke rising with the rising sun, stretching across the mountains. After a simple breakfast, the long column set out for Chuzhou.
Wen Yao saw that the road was muddy and winding, and the surrounding tree trunks were many twists and turns, half stripped of bark and leaves. It was clearly the height of summer, the sun was blazing, but the surrounding scenery was bleak and desolate.
As she looked, her heart sank. This scene was familiar to her. She had seen the same scene as she had seen during the civil war, the rebellion of the rebellious king, and the snowstorms and floods that plagued Tianshui during the past.
"Hey." Her name was Zhao Xuanxu. "How does the imperial court usually deal with those who rebel?"
"Beat them until they disperse on their own." Zhao Xuanxu glanced over, paused, and said soothingly, "It's not difficult. Kill a few who stand out, and the rest will disperse and return home on their own. It won't kill too many people."
Wen Yao: "This time should be different from usual."
Gao Shaoshan took over the conversation and said with emotion, "It's different. This time the rebellion is on a large scale. Those people have occupied the counties and towns under the jurisdiction of the prefectures and governments. They have food and weapons. They don't look like the refugees who usually suffer from natural disasters."
Every year, disasters plague various parts of Tianshui. Heaven often finds it difficult to bear the brunt of the suffering, unable to bear the peace and prosperity of the world. The common people, accustomed to being slaves to the landlords and officials, grovel under the ground, their only hope being a meal. Only when their last resort is crossed will they rise up, smashing things, and shouting, begging the higher-ups to pay attention to their need for survival and give them a meal. But that's all; once they're given rice and flour, they'll quiet down again, doing their duty and praising Your Majesty's grace.
Wen Yao rubbed his face and sighed, "Come on, there's nothing wrong with wanting to live. Once the relief food arrives, if you can avoid killing people, then don't kill them. Let's all sit down and talk it over."
Because of the fear of being looted by mobs and civilians, the relief grain still followed Zhao Xuanxu even though it was faster to travel by water.
Compared to Suzhou, Taizhou, and Yangzhou, Chuzhou, the easternmost province, was smaller, with less prosperous agriculture, less frequent disasters, and less potential for unrest. From the outset, it was largely controlled by the original garrison. Occasionally, they encountered bandits while entering villages and counties along the way. When the army arrived at the city gates, they opened them wide. The prefect led a group of officials to greet them, warmly expressing their gratitude for the Prince of Yan's long journey and their intention to host a welcoming banquet for Zhao Xuanxu.
Wen Yao glanced over, gazing at the deserted streets within the city gates. She whipped her horse forward. Zhao Xuanxu moved almost in sync with her, perched high atop his horse and reining in the reins. The portly prefect, shaken by the horse's hooves, needed a tug from his comrades to finally step aside.
The visitor has bad intentions, and the nobleman from Bianliang looks unhappy.
Faced with the ferocious-looking Feather Guards who filed in, the prefect dared not reveal anything and just followed Zhao Xuanxu with an uneasy heart.
After a few steps, a thatched hut appeared in front of them. Beneath it were several large cauldrons, each as tall as a man, steam billowing from them. Nearby, a group of common people stood, bowls in hand. Wen Yao approached, seeing they were little more than skeletal skeletons, their faces expressionless. The long line stretched all the way to the corner of the street, like a line of pale, wandering souls. Only when the official distributing the rice porridge extended his long spoon and tapped their bowls, dropping a bowl of rice porridge mixed with vegetable leaves, did their eyes warm up. They, regardless of the scalding heat, brought the porridge to their mouths and gulped it down whole.
The prefect stood with his hands behind his back, his belly bulging out, and with a look of pity on his face, he shook his head and sighed, "How hard it is for the people's lives! How hard it is for the people's lives."
Wen Yao stared at the disaster victims for a while, then lowered his head to look at him, smiled inexplicably, and said, "Your porridge looks good."
The prefect didn't actually know who Wen Yao was. He had already begun to speculate about her identity when he saw the woman walking alongside Prince Yan. Hearing this, he bowed his head respectfully and said, "Yes, although Chuzhou suffered a disaster this year, thanks to Your Majesty's protection, the weather has been good in previous years, and there is still some grain in the granary. Because of this, the rebel army was unable to deceive the people, and I have been able to defend the city for Your Majesty."
He spoke with a mixture of flattery and boasting, both overtly and covertly touting his own achievements. Unfortunately, these important figures from Bianliang were completely indifferent and looked at him without any reaction.
Since Chuzhou was peaceful, Zhao Xuanxu would not stay there. After taking a look around the city, resting and replenishing his supplies, he quickly rode out of the city and headed for Taizhou and Yangzhou, where the resistance forces were concentrated.
It was already evening after we sent away these plague gods.
The prefect heaved a sigh of relief, straightened his hunched back, and returned to the government office. As soon as he entered and sat down on a stool, a beautiful maid came forward, knelt down, took off his boots, and massaged his feet.
The prefect's men hurried in and reported, "Sir, the Prince of Yan has left the pavilion outside the city."
"Yes, I understand. This Prince Yan is indeed as frightening as the rumors say. It's a pity that this time, His Highness has a woman with him, and I can't even send out the beautiful brides I prepared." The prefect slumped comfortably, and thinking of those beautiful dancers, his eyes became lustful again. He smiled and said, "Well, Prince Yan is unlucky! Let them all come up to serve him."
The servant beside him immediately turned around and went downstairs to call for help.
"Sir," the servant paused, looking somewhat regretful, and said, "In anticipation of His Highness Prince Yan staying overnight, we cooked two meals of rice and flour. What a shame, all the white rice went into the stomachs of those lowly people."
"Two meals?" The prefect glared. "It's not even sundown yet. Quickly waive the remaining meal for me and return it to the original one."
The man agreed immediately and hurried out. He ran into a dancer in silk clothes walking slowly towards him. He was immediately intoxicated by the fragrance and wanted to grab the beauty's sleeve. But then he remembered that it was the prefect behind him and dared not move. He could only hold his breath and quickly walk to a house, stop the people carrying rice, and vent all his anger.
"Don't move! Put everything down and replace it with the original one! Then send it to the soup kitchen quickly, don't delay!"
Tonight, the number of people waiting for the porridge handout on the streets was two or three times greater than usual. Even those with extra rice at home came. They had heard that the relief food at noon was the best porridge, thick and sweet. In these famine years, wild vegetable porridge was a rare delicacy.
Young and middle-aged people crowded in the front, while the elderly and children were squeezed in the back. In the scorching heat, skeleton-like arms stretched out from both sides, crying and shouting, and the stench was overwhelming.
An official, dressed in bright clothes, a long sword slung at his waist, swaggered over, carrying several bags of rice. He slowly set up the pot and poured water into it. The relief rice was poured in, and steam rose from the air. Soon, the first pot of porridge was cooked.
The first person to rush in swallowed his saliva, trying to lift the pot over his head while the official slowly extended his spoon and tapped the edge of the bowl. He was so excited that he brought the bowl to his mouth and took a gulp, but he only drank a mouthful of muddy rice soup with a layer of rotten rice floating on it.
"Next, next!" Before he could say anything, the people behind him pushed him away.
The official shouted at the top of his voice, "Stop pushing me! If you push the pot over, you'll have to crawl on the ground and lick it!"
He was giving orders when someone suddenly came over and patted him on the shoulder. The steam from the pot made him sweat all over, and he was getting irritated. He slapped his hand back impatiently, "What are you doing? Just say what you want to say."
Then, his neck was suddenly tightened. A hand came from behind, gripping his neck tightly before being pulled up and thrown to the ground. The blow was a resounding blow, leaving him dizzy and dazed. He fumbled open his eyes and saw the red hair rope dangling from the side. The woman's features were sharp and clear, yet at this moment, she exuded a fierce and violent aura.
He was just a small clerk. He hadn't been there when the prefect went to greet the Prince of Yan, so naturally he didn't recognize Wen Yao. But the surroundings were solemn and quiet. The people waiting for porridge were afraid and stepped aside. A circle of armored soldiers surrounded them. Even a fool should have seen that something was wrong.
Wen Yao let go and lifted the lid. Inside the pot, half a man's height, was a pale, bland rice broth, barely thicker than water. Scraping with a spoon, the meager amount of rice at the bottom finally floated to the surface. The broth was still a hazy yellow, and Wen Yao, taking a closer look, discovered a layer of fine sand mixed in with the rice.
She cursed inwardly, turned around, twisted her wrist, and poured the spoonful of "porridge water" onto the face of the person lying on the ground.
The sound of horse hooves could be heard in the distance. Two feathered guards returned, dragging the dishevelled prefect with them hurriedly over and tossed him to the ground. "Sir, the man has been brought here."
The prefect had just been pulled up from the beautiful woman's belly, and his head was still groggy. He first saw Wen Wenyao, then shifted his gaze to see Zhao Xuanxu standing behind Wen Yao with a cold look in his eyes.
His kneecaps felt like they had been pulled out, and the prefect slumped down, landing firmly on the ground.
"Shaoshan." Zhao Xuanxu was a little impatient, with anger rising from his brows. He said, "How should the court distribute disaster relief grain?"
"The chopsticks will not fall down in the porridge." Gao Shaoshan's voice was like a bell. At the same time, he stepped forward and stepped hard on the magistrate's shoulder with such great force that it almost broke his bones.
As I've said before, the disaster in Chuzhou wasn't severe. Furthermore, sea transportation is convenient, and rice is shipped all the way to Beijing. Even if the imperial court hasn't provided disaster relief yet, the people won't starve like this.
Zhao Xuanxu lowered his eyes, looking at the Chuzhou prefect as if he were looking at a dead person: "Chop him into pieces and throw him into the pot to cook. Add less water so that the chopsticks can stand upright."
"No, no, no, no!" The prefect began to tremble from head to toe upon hearing this. "Your Highness, I was wrong, I was wrong! I will return the rice and flour! I—"
Gao Shaoshan saw that Zhao Xuanxu really wanted to kill this man, so he drew his long sword without hesitation and swung it down. Smelly blood splattered, and a fat head rolled several times and fell to the ground.
The people were terrified, huddled in the back and knelt down in fear. Wen Yao saw that they were all emaciated from hunger, with children's arms as thin as bamboo poles that would break at a touch, and their ribs protruding and clearly visible.
Jiang Qiaosheng also leaned over to take a look at the porridge in the pot, then jokingly stepped on the prefect's fat face, gloating, "People in the martial arts world fear me like a tiger, but I only kill one or a few people at a time. Any prefect in Tianshui is so bold, wanting to kill thousands or even tens of thousands of people in a single breath. They are more ruthless and more generous than me. Zhao Xuanxu, your kingdom is doomed too."
Zhao Xuanxu didn't care whether his kingdom was ruined or not. He turned around to glance at Wen Yao's unpleasant expression, thought for a moment, and said, "Drag him away, chop him up, cook him into porridge, and feed him to the dogs. Inform the Chuzhou Supervisory Office to investigate the whereabouts of the disaster relief grain and distribute it to the people. Anyone who disobeys will be killed, anyone who hides the grain will be killed, and anyone who causes chaos will be killed."
He said the word "kill" several times in a row, his tone was calm but it was like a heavy hammer hitting people's hearts.
Someone immediately came up and dragged the prefect's body away.
"If Chuzhou is like this, there's no guarantee that other places won't be like this." Wen Yaoyou glanced at the contents of the pot, anger rising from his heart, strands of which lingered in his words: "If I were to drink this every day, I would rebel too."
"We won't follow the original route." Zhao Xuanxu took her wrist and rubbed it with his thumbs. "Leave 10,000 troops with the Supervisory Office to monitor the disaster relief efforts in various prefectures and counties. The rest will be transferred to the Canal Transport Office's navy and march south via Gaoyou."
He said calmly, "I want to attack Yangzhou."
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