Hot flashes

Since the beginning of autumn, the rain in Jiangnan has been incessant. At first, it was a light drizzle that made people feel damp inside, and then it turned into a torrential downpour that lasted for more than ten days.

Rivers swelled, dikes collapsed, and urgent dispatches from all over the country poured into the capital like snowflakes. First came the report from Jiangning Prefecture, saying that the Qinhuai River had breached its banks, flooding three counties;

Next came Suzhou Prefecture, reporting that the water level of Taihu Lake had risen sharply, and most of the villages and towns along the shore were flooded; then came Huzhou, Changzhou, and Songjiang, one report after another, with increasingly urgent wording.

Zhou Heng stood by the window of the East Warm Pavilion in Qianqing Palace, holding an urgent report that had just been sent from Jiangnan.

Outside the window, it was a rare rainy day in Beijing. The gray clouds hung low, and the rain slanted down onto the glazed tiles, trickling down the eaves and forming thin streams.

He read the urgent report from beginning to end, then read it again, folded it up, and put it back on the table.

Xiao Jue was reviewing memorials, his vermilion brush gliding across the paper with a soft rustling sound. The room was quiet, so quiet that you could hear the rain streaming down the eaves.

"How many copies is this?" Xiao Jue didn't look up, his pen hovering over a certain spot, as if he was carefully choosing his words.

Zhou Heng walked back to his desk and sat down. "The seventh report. Seven prefectures—Jiangning, Suzhou, Huzhou, Changzhou, Songjiang, Zhenjiang, and Yangzhou—reported flooding. The Ministry of Revenue's preliminary estimate is that no fewer than 300,000 households have been affected." He paused. "And this is only what has been reported. The number in those prefectures and counties where roads are blocked and mail cannot be delivered will only be much higher."

Xiao Jue put down his pen, leaned back in his chair, and stared at the ever-growing stack of urgent reports in front of him, remaining silent. Zhou Heng looked at him and noticed that the dark circles under his eyes had deepened.

These past few days, Xiao Jue has been sleeping little, spending every night looking at maps, checking account books, and summoning ministers. But summoning them is useless; none of the people in the court can come up with a real solution to the problem.

Zhou Heng picked up the teacup on the table; the tea had gone cold. He took a sip, and a bitter taste spread across his tongue. "Yesterday at court, someone suggested sending an imperial envoy to Jiangnan to provide disaster relief," he said casually, as if discussing something insignificant.

Xiao Jue glanced at him. "What do you think?"

"We must send someone." Zhou Heng put down his teacup, slowly circling his finger along the rim. "But who to send—that's a very complex matter."

Zhou Heng stood up, walked to the window, and pushed it open.

A damp, cold wind blew in, carrying the smell of rain and earth. He stood there, looking at the gray sky outside, his mind racing.

In the years since he came to the capital, he has gradually figured out a pattern: whenever there is a major disaster, it is always the time when the power struggle between aristocratic families and the imperial court is the most intense. The imperial court needs to provide disaster relief, repair dikes, and extract money from the national treasury.

The powerful families wanted to protect their territory and interests, and they wanted to block the imperial court's reach into Jiangnan. In the past, it was always the same thing—the imperial court sent an imperial envoy, who was either bribed by the powerful families or ostracized by them, and finally returned in disgrace. Most of the disaster relief funds had been spent, but the disaster had not lessened at all. The dikes were still the same dikes, and the people were still the same people.

But this time is different. This flood is greater than any before. Seven prefectures reported the disaster simultaneously, with 300,000 households affected. With such a massive disaster, the powerful families could no longer afford to downplay it as they had done before.

They must get the court to send people down and provide funds; otherwise, if the disaster victims riot, the first to suffer will not be the court, but themselves.

Those fields belong to them, those tenants belong to them, and all the property they own behind the dikes belongs to them.

The land was flooded, and they couldn't collect rent; the disaster victims were rioting, and they couldn't control the situation. The powerful families were even more eager than the imperial court to quell the disaster.

But they were unwilling to let the imperial court truly interfere in the affairs of Jiangnan. This was the crux of the contradiction.

They want the court's silver, the court's grain, and the court's troops to maintain order, but they don't want the court's people to interfere in their territory.

Therefore, they will definitely try every means to get the court to send someone they can control.

Zhou Heng turned around and looked at Xiao Jue. Xiao Jue was sitting there, and at some point he had another folded book in his hand, which he was flipping through, as if the conversation just now was just ordinary chatter.

Zhou Heng walked back and sat down next to him. "If I were them," he said, his voice low, "I would push someone in the court."

This person must meet three conditions—first, he must appear capable, knowledgeable in water conservancy and disaster relief, leaving no room for criticism; second, he must not be from a powerful family, at least not outwardly; third, he must obey the powerful families, knowing exactly what to do and what not to do in Jiangnan. He must be clear about this.

Xiao Jue paused, flipping through the folded pages. "Is there such a person?"

Zhou Heng did not answer. He mentally went through all the people in the court who might be sent to Jiangnan, and a name suddenly popped into his head.

He remembered a secret report that Chen Shen had sent him before, which mentioned a person who seemed to have no connection with any aristocratic family.

Wu Huai-ren, a senior official in the Ministry of Works.

Wu Huai-ren served in the Ministry of Works for more than ten years, overseeing several water conservancy projects in Jiangnan. His performance evaluations were consistently excellent, and he enjoyed a very good reputation in the imperial court.

He wasn't from a prominent family; in fact, it could be said that, on the surface, he had no dealings with any prominent families. However, Chen Shen's people investigated for more than half a year and uncovered a faint clue—Wu Huai Ren had had several contacts with the Cui family when he was working on construction projects in Jiangnan.

He helped dredge the waterways that scoured the several properties the Cui family owned in Jiangnan.

If Shen Yu were to recommend someone for the court, Wu Huai-ren would be the most suitable candidate.