The Great Ming Demon Pill: Your Majesty, please address me as the Crown Prince!

The Eastern Palace.

"Father! How can you still sit still?"

Zhu Zhanji said indignantly.

"How many days has it been?"

"The whole capital is talking about that kid!"

"What 'Golden Buddha Verifies Silver,' 'Two Questions about Brothels,' 'The Law of Gravity'...?"

"Grandfather actually allowed him to be so flamboyant! In the past few days at court, many ministers have been privately discussing that the Prince of Jiyang is exceptionally intelligent and has the legacy of the Holy Ancestor! If this continues... Grandfather, could he be favoring the Prince of Han?"

Crown Princess Zhang emerged from behind the screen, holding a teacup, her expression also unpleasant.

"Our Zhanji is the eldest grandson!"

"He's been diligent in his studies and martial arts since childhood, excelling in everything he does. But in the old man's eyes... now only that little rascal who knows how to pull tricks is left!"

Zhu Gaochi slowly put down the newspaper, his eyes solemn, and sighed.

"What do you know?"

"This 'Da Ming Xin Bao' (Great Ming Newspaper) circulates in the city every day, with thousands of copies going around in teahouses and taverns, and the literate reading it aloud to the illiterate."

"Within ten days, the people of Nanjing, and even the surrounding prefectures, will have all been guided by this newspaper in terms of what they know, discuss, and believe every day."

Zhu Zhanji's expression changed: "Father, you mean... popular opinion?"

"Indeed," Zhu Gaochi said in a deep voice. "Throughout history, controlling the hearts and minds of the people has been nothing more than government decrees, education, and channels for expression. The official gazette is delivered to the officials, while this newspaper reaches the people. Whoever controls this newspaper can, invisibly, guide the thoughts and ideas of the people and shape the direction of public opinion in the court and among the people."

"This power is now in Zhanjun's hands."

"Although he is young, the Prince of Han's mansion stands behind him."

"Today he can write about the tribute from the Kingdom of Harleigh and the planting of new vegetables."

"If he were to write about the Crown Prince tomorrow... or about you and me, what then?"

The hall fell silent instantly.

Zhang clutched the handkerchief tightly in her hand, her face pale.

Zhu Zhanji was breathing rapidly.

"No! We absolutely cannot let him continue to control this!"

"Father, we have to think of something!"

Zhu Gaochi gave a wry smile and shook his head:

"It's not that simple."

"The Da Ming Xin Bao newspaper is doing a great job."

"Can we do it better than them?"

"But you don't need to worry too much."

"If he really intends to use the newspapers to attack us, Father will not agree."

Zhu Zhanji remained silent.

A strong sense of frustration and resentment welled up inside me.

He was expected to achieve great things from a young age, so he disciplined himself, studied the classics and history diligently, practiced archery and horsemanship, and always demanded of himself the standards of a crown prince.

But now, he has been defeated time and time again by a little rascal who doesn't play by the rules.

Zhang gritted her teeth and said, "Are we just going to stand by and watch? The old man has always favored the second son's family, and now that kid is all the rage. If this continues, people's hearts will turn against us..."

"What's the panic?" Zhu Gaochi interrupted her. "The tallest tree in the forest is the first to be felled by the wind. Right now, he's riding high, and everything he says and does is being magnified. Young people are bound to make mistakes."

His gaze turned to Zhu Zhanji:

"Zhanji, you are the eldest grandson of the emperor, and you have your own righteous path."

"Be diligent in government affairs, be friendly to your brothers, be careful in your words and deeds, and be filial to your grandfather and father."

"No matter how much the old man favors his son, he wouldn't joke about the fate of the nation."

Zhu Zhanji took a deep breath, suppressing the surging jealousy and resentment in his heart, and bowed, saying, "Your son understands."

.......................

On the main street of Nanjing.

Yu Qian walked down the street with a bag on his back and a newspaper in his hand, looking rather intrigued.

Some time ago, he went back to his hometown. When he came to Nanjing again, he discovered these novel items, which he found quite interesting.

Yu Qian was looking down at the report in the "Da Ming Xin Bao" about the tribute from the Kingdom of Halie and the clever solution to the problem of the golden Buddha statue by the King of Jiyang, lost in thought.

Suddenly, a commotion broke out at the street corner ahead, accompanied by cries and shouts.

He looked up and saw a group of ragged, emaciated men, women, and children, supporting each other and stumbling as they poured into the city.

Yu Qian was startled and quickly put away the newspaper, then hurried forward.

An elderly man with white hair staggered a few steps and fell to the ground due to exhaustion. A little girl of about five or six years old next to him was so frightened that she cried loudly.

Yu Qian quickly squatted down, carefully helped the old man up, and then took out his water pouch and handed it to him.

"Old man, please slow down... What's going on? Why are so many fellow villagers flocking to the capital?" Yu Qian asked anxiously as he brushed the dust off the old man.

The old man took the water bag with trembling hands and took a small sip.

"Young man...you're from the capital, aren't you? We...we fled from Fengyang Prefecture..."

Fengyang Prefecture?

Yu Qian frowned.

The old man wiped his eyes, his voice hoarse: "Since the beginning of spring this year, not a drop of rain has fallen in the Huai River area. The soil is cracked, and the rice seedlings have all withered... The summer grain harvest is a complete failure!"

"The village originally had some grain stored up, but the government kept issuing grain requisition documents, saying that the northern military supplies and the imperial court's projects all needed grain... After we handed over our grain, there wasn't a single grain left in our own pots..."

A middle-aged woman beside her, cradling a child who was skin and bones from hunger, sobbed uncontrollably: "We've dug up all the tree bark and grass roots... We really can't survive, so we have no choice but to head to the capital. I heard that there's always some porridge to drink under the emperor's nose..."

The old man continued, "Countless people starved to death or fell ill along the way... Our group is one of the few who made it this far."

He said blankly.

"I don't even know if there's any way out here."

Yu Qian listened, his heart heavy.

He had seen famines before, but such a large influx of refugees into the capital, especially from Fengyang Prefecture so close to the capital, was truly alarming.

He helped the old man to his feet and said in a deep voice, "Old man, please rest here for a while. I will go find the city patrol officers. We need to find a way to settle things."

As they were talking, several constables rushed over from a distance, trying to disperse the crowd and guide the refugees to gather in the western suburbs of the city. However, the number of refugees was large, the order was chaotic, and there were cries and shouts all around.

.........................

Inside the Qianyuan Palace, the air was filled with the fragrance of sandalwood. Zhu Di sat solemnly behind his desk.

Yang Rong, Yang Shiqi, Huang Huai, Hu Guang and other senior cabinet officials stood on both sides, bowing and waiting for orders.

Yang Rong stepped forward, holding the memorial in his hand.

"Your Majesty, we have just received an urgent report that the Fengyang Prefecture area has been suffering from a severe drought since the beginning of spring. The Huai River has dried up, the fields are cracked, and the summer harvest has failed."

"Several thousand refugees have already poured into the outskirts of Nanjing, leaving corpses of the starving everywhere along the way, and the people are filled with fear. If they are not resettled, there is a risk of unrest."

Zhu Di frowned, tapping his fingers lightly on the table: "Where are the refugees now? Have they been properly resettled?"

Yang Shiqi continued, "The refugees have been temporarily guided by the city patrol to gather in the western suburbs of the city. However, there are many of them, and they lack food and clothing. Their cries are deafening. The people in the city are also talking about it. If the government does not provide assistance as soon as possible, I am afraid that rumors will spread and the people's hearts will be unsettled."

Huang Huai added: "Your Majesty, I have heard that many of the disaster victims are elderly, weak, women and children, and some have already died from illness and starvation. The most urgent task is to open the granaries to distribute food, set up shelters to provide porridge, and send medical officials to prevent and control epidemics."

Zhu Di nodded and made a decisive decision: "Issue my decree to immediately allocate funds and grain from the Ministry of Revenue to set up ten soup kitchens outside the city, providing soup twice a day."

"Additional cotton cloth and medicinal herbs were allocated, and the Imperial Medical Academy was ordered to send people to make rounds to provide medical care. Furthermore, the Shuntian Prefecture was ordered to work with the Five City Garrison Commands to maintain order and not to drive away or oppress the disaster victims."

As soon as he finished speaking, Xia Yuanji, the Minister of Revenue, stepped forward with a solemn expression: "Your Majesty, I have a memorial to present."

Zhu Di raised his eyes: "Speak."

Xia Yuanji bowed, his voice strained: "Your Majesty is benevolent and kind, and wishes to save the people from suffering. We are deeply grateful."

"However... in recent years, due to the Northern Expedition, the voyages to the Western Ocean, and various projects in various places, the Ministry of Revenue's treasury has been stretched thin."

"Last year's floods in Henan and locust plagues in Shandong also depleted a large amount of grain reserves. Currently, the grain reserves in Taicang are less than 300,000 shi (a unit of dry measure). If we open the granaries to release grain, I fear it will be difficult to sustain the operation."

"Moreover, the military supplies and salaries of officials in the northern frontier all depend on this place. If the allocation is not handled properly, it may shake the foundation of the country."

The hall fell silent for a moment.

Zhu Di's expression darkened slightly.

"Does Minister Xia mean for me to sit idly by and watch disaster victims starve to death in the streets?"

Xia Yuanji prostrated himself on the ground: "Your subject dares not! It is only... that the national treasury is empty, which is indeed the truth."

"If we devote all our efforts to disaster relief, it will be difficult to pay military salaries and official wages on time. At that time, the border will be unstable and the court will be filled with resentment, which will be even more harmful."

Yang Rong pondered for a moment and then said, "Your Majesty, perhaps we could first allocate some of the stored grain from the granaries in the capital and Tongzhou for emergency use, and then order the provinces south of the Yangtze River to speed up the transport of grain to make up for the shortfall. In addition, we could persuade wealthy households in the capital to donate grain and silver to help us get through this difficult time together."

Zhu Di remained silent for a moment.

"Then we will do as Yang Qing said."

.........................

Ten days later.

West of the city.

Yu Qian looked at the refugees hiding in the sheds, his face grim.

In recent days, the imperial court has indeed been distributing porridge, but the number of refugees pouring in has been increasing, far exceeding the previous few thousand. According to his observation, there are now at least twenty or thirty thousand people.

With such immense pressure, coupled with the imperial court's years of wars, voyages to the Western Ocean, and the compilation of grand ceremonies, it is feared that the court will not be able to withstand it.

Moreover, the number of refugees is still increasing.

Yu Qian felt increasingly heavy-hearted.

He shook his head and stepped forward to help distribute the porridge.

He's just an ordinary person; there's no use in overthinking. He can only do what he can.

Suddenly, his eyes narrowed slightly as he focused his gaze on the line not far away.

A middle-aged man, dressed in a clean, fine cloth long gown, with a ruddy complexion and a steady gait, stood out conspicuously among a group of ragged disaster victims.

He held a rough pottery bowl in his hands as the procession moved slowly forward.

Seeing that the man was about to receive that spoonful of thin rice porridge, Yu Qian felt a surge of anger rising in his chest.

He strode forward, grabbed the man's wrist, and shouted sternly, "Stop!"

The man was startled, nearly dropping the bowl. Looking up, he saw Yu Qian glaring at him angrily and immediately said with displeasure, "What are you doing?"

Yu Qian pointed at his clothes, then looked around at the shivering disaster victims, his voice filled with anger: "Look at you! Your clothes are neat, your face is full, how can you look like a starving disaster victim? This porridge is allocated by the imperial court to the dying people to save their lives, and you actually have the heart to reach out and snatch it?!"

The surrounding disaster victims also looked over, their eyes revealing dissatisfaction and disdain, and they began to whisper among themselves.

The man's face flushed red.

"My family has also run out of food, why can't I receive it?"

"Nonsense!" Yu Qian interrupted him. "Although grain prices at the rice market in the west of the city have risen these past few days, the increase hasn't been significant. If you truly wanted to buy grain, why would you be here? You're clearly just trying to take advantage of the government's porridge distribution!"

He became increasingly agitated as he spoke, his voice echoing throughout the soup kitchen: "The Huai River is suffering from a severe drought, with no harvest for thousands of miles. Countless people are eating tree bark and chewing grass roots as they flee to the capital, leaving corpses of the starved everywhere along the way!"

"The imperial granaries are empty; every spoonful of porridge here is a life-saving measure! As a resident of the capital, it's one thing to not offer assistance, but to compete with the disaster victims for food—where is your conscience?!"

The man was blushing with embarrassment as he was verbally abused, and the surrounding disaster victims were also outraged.

He finally couldn't take it anymore, and in a sorry state, he dropped his bowl, bent his head, pushed through the crowd, and hurriedly fled the porridge stall.

Yu Qian watched his departing figure, took a deep breath, and turned to the servants distributing the porridge, saying, "You have worked hard, but please be sure to check carefully and not let such scoundrels take advantage of the situation and fail to live up to the court's good intentions."

The constables nodded in agreement.

Yu Qian, however, felt no relief whatsoever.

This kind of thing keeps happening despite repeated attempts to stop it; his efforts alone are far too limited.

With the number of refugees rising, the porridge has become noticeably thinner these past two days.

How many people can survive on the disaster relief grain provided by the imperial court?

he does not know.

A full half-day.

He racked his brains for a long time, but still couldn't come up with a good solution to help the refugees survive.

As evening approached, he was walking down the street when he heard people talking about the "Da Ming Xin Bao" newspaper. Suddenly, an idea struck him.

Although that Prince Jiyang is young, he is a prodigy; perhaps he has a solution? Maybe he should pay him a visit?