Winning the People's Hearts
Within the palace, the Emperor was cooling his brow with a handkerchief wrapped around ice. As he listened to a subordinate report on the disaster in Yanwo, a headache bore down on him so hard he could not even keep his eyes open, and in his fury he could only drag in rough, ragged breaths.
“Not one peaceful day since the end of last year! Not a single day of ease, I say!”
The Emperor hurled the ice handkerchief from his hand and surged to his feet.
“He hid the disaster to win himself a promotion! Utterly vile, past all forgiveness. Kill him! Execute Min Zhongsheng by slow slicing—now!”
Minister of Revenue Chu Chongxing stepped forward, paid his respects, and spoke.
“Your Majesty, the most urgent matter now is disaster relief. You must dispatch suitable personnel. The calamity has spread so far that a member of the imperial family ought to step forward and oversee it—only then can the hearts of the people be settled.”
The Crown Prince merely nodded, saying nothing about stepping forward himself.
This disaster would not be resolved as easily as those of other years. The famine in Yanwo had spread so severely that refugees roamed the roads, and whoever took charge would have to relieve the famine while soothing the people's hearts besides—a balance that demanded the most careful judgment. Managed badly, it could spark a peasant uprising. The Crown Prince was simply not of the caliber to shoulder such a burden.
“Father, in your son's humble opinion... how would it be to send Third Imperial Uncle?”
Drawing close, the Crown Prince lowered his voice as he spoke.
“Third Imperial Uncle is upright and benevolent. He would do his utmost for the people stricken by this disaster. He would never stoop to covering up another man's corruption.”
“His Highness the Crown Prince speaks rightly. Though it may be this humble servant's foolish view... if Your Highness were to take charge of the disaster personally, it would surely rouse the spirits of the people.”
Having said this, Chu Chongxing pressed on quickly.
“And yet Your Highness is the heir apparent of the realm. The disaster is so grave that should anything go amiss, a popular revolt might well rise—and it is true that we worry for Your Highness's safety.”
Visibly flustered, the Crown Prince turned to the Emperor.
“Your son does not fear peril to himself, but he has no experience of disaster relief, and this calamity is so severe that I fear I would prove of no help! In your son's view, it would be far safer to send someone seasoned in such matters. As Minister Chu says, if a prince of the house steps forward, it will hearten the people. So I would travel together with whoever leads the relief, and thereby ease Your Majesty's worries.”
With these words the Crown Prince demonstrated his loyal devotion, showing himself ready to brave a dangerous place for his father's sake—while making it equally clear that, lacking any experience of relief work, he would be useless if he went, and that should trouble arise later, the fault would not be his. It was a cleverly wrought answer.
And the Emperor, of all people, was precisely the sort of man to be swayed by such words. He sank back into his chair, laid the ice Gao Demu handed him against his forehead, and closed his eyes.
“The Crown Prince is the heir apparent of a nation—the very foundation of this realm. I cannot send him into danger.”
After a brief deliberation, Chu Chongxing spoke.
“This humble servant can call to mind a few suitable men, but since Your Majesty ascended the throne there has never been a disaster of this magnitude... a flawless handling may prove difficult.”
The worst calamity of the past twenty years had been the plague that swept Jiaozhou. That year, Bai Qishan had personally joined the relief effort, leading the Bai family army to seal off Jiaozhou. Bai Xiaoqiu had requested an imperial edict and entered the city, quelling the plague and restoring the people to health—but Bai Xiaoqiu was buried in Jiaozhou forever.
The Emperor's eyes ached with fatigue. The rage that had been boiling in him melted into grief. Eyes closed, he said:
“Is there not one man in the court of so great a Jin capable of leading disaster relief?”
Suitable candidates could have been debated at tomorrow's court assembly, but the situation was too urgent for that—every hour counted. The longer they delayed, the greater the chance that unrest would boil over.
The Crown Prince suddenly thought of the Liang King. King Xin had already been reduced to commoner status, and among the imperial princes, only he and the Liang King were grown.
“Father, beyond the one who will manage this disaster, a member of the imperial family must still come forth to soothe the people's hearts. But since your son cannot go, I would like to recommend someone to you. Father—please, do not be angry with me.”
Having carefully weighed his words, the Crown Prince spoke again.
“The Liang King, in seeking to frame the Zhenguo King, wounded Your Majesty's heart—but he too was merely led astray, his judgment clouded by a subordinate's words. He is confined to his residence even now, reflecting on his faults. And did he not pour out his devotion on Your Majesty's birthday? Grant the Liang King a chance to redeem himself, Father. Bid him earn merit to atone for his sins.”
The Emperor turned his head to look at the Crown Prince, who knelt there urging him to give the Liang King a chance. Before he had even thought the matter through, the Minister of Revenue spoke up as though in approval.
“The Crown Prince's words carry reason. The Liang King is Your Majesty's own son—his presence would stir the people's hearts to far greater effect than Third Imperial Uncle's.”
Gao Demu stepped forward and changed out the Emperor's ice handkerchief. The Emperor knitted his brow and gave a slow nod.
“Then we send the Liang King. And who is to lead the work? Who is fit for it?”
“We need a capable hand to govern the disaster—one versed in both civil and military affairs. A general must lead the soldiers, lest their presence breed unease among the people. General Zhang Danyue has already marched with his troops to Mount Chunmu, so it would seem fitting to entrust the matter to General Shi Panshan, who won distinction in the Southern Border war. As for the civil side... it would be best to choose a minister who has recently overseen a disaster-stricken region and produced quite respectable results.”
Chu Chongxing curled his hand into a loose fist, bowed his head, and spoke with gravity.
“It would seem, after all, that the Left Chancellor's son, Li Mingshu, is the most suitable choice.”
The Emperor's head felt as though it would split apart from the ache; he waved a hand dismissively.
“Then so be it! Gao Demu, draft the edict! And summon Consort Qiu!”
The Emperor had suffered relentless headaches of late, and even the medicine prescribed by the imperial physicians brought little relief. Only when Consort Qiu massaged him did he feel any measure of ease.
The Crown Prince let out a long breath of relief. So long as this was not dumped on his shoulders alone, it mattered nothing to him who went.
Thus the Emperor's edict came down.
He ordered the Ministry of Revenue to move grain from the storehouses and hand it over to the Liang King, Li Mingshu, and General Shi Panshan, and commanded them to proceed to the lakes where the refugees had massed, and to Guangling.
Minister of Revenue Chu Chongxing went on gathering grain without pause.
Bai Jingyan heard word that among this relief roster, Li Mingshu, son of Li Mu, would serve as chief administrator; General Shi Panshan would assist; and the Liang King—as a man of the imperial house—would act as deputy.
Minister of Revenue Chu Chongxing. Left Chancellor Li Mu. The Liang King.
All of them, gathered in one place.
Were the Liang King raised to the throne instead of the Crown Prince, who already occupied the seat of heir apparent, Li Mu could become a peerless founding minister of the new reign.
Bai Jingyan drew in her Red-Tasseled Spear and wiped the sweat from her brow with a handkerchief, then slowly worked and loosened her wrist.
Should the famine in Yanwo come to light, it would not only turn the suspicious gazes fixed on the examination fraud of the past—it would, on this occasion, drag the Liang King back before the Emperor. And besides, it was a chance for Li Mingshu, son of the Left Chancellor, to distinguish himself.
Which meant the Liang King and Li Mingshu would handle the Yanwo famine flawlessly.
And there was no need to fear that graft and corruption would let more innocent lives slip away.
Standing in the corridor, Bai Jingyan thought of the refugees who had fled to Pingyang City. If she could lead them through Youhuado and hand them over to A'jie, those refugees could be recruited as soldiers.
The wellspring of an army was the people. More people meant more soldiers; stronger people meant stronger soldiers.
Bai Jingyan went into her room and wrote out a letter. Sealing it carefully, she instructed Chun Tao to see it delivered to Nuo Ping, and told Nuo Ping to send a man to General Shen Liangyu of the Bai family army in the Southern Border bearing this letter.
After seeing Bai Jingyan through her bath, Chun Tao arranged her mistress's hair beneath the lamp. Nanny Dong came in with two maids, carrying the re-stitched sandbags, and spoke with a pang of pity.
“Eldest Miss, those sandbags seem far too heavy.”
“Once I'm used to them, they'll be fine.”
Bai Jingyan spread open a volume of books and smiled at Nanny Dong's furrowed brow.
“It's merely a way of being lazy—it's grown much easier. Whatever else may be uncertain, one thing is sure: my body is getting better by the day. So smile, Nanny. You ought to rejoice.”
Watching Bai Jingyan's health mend day by day lifted Nanny Dong's spirits.
Physician Hong had said that when Bai Jingyan injured her lower dantian, she had lost her martial cultivation entirely—and that she would never bear children. Those words had left Nanny Dong weeping for days on end. Losing her martial arts was one thing, but the thought that she could never conceive had ached bitterly in the old woman's heart.
And yet now the Eldest Miss's body was growing sounder by the day. She could even take up the weapons she once carried again. Somehow, Nanny Dong could not help feeling that Heaven would grant her child-fate once more.
Early the next morning, Nanny Dong had the carriage made ready. With her escort in tow, Bai Jingyan left the city for the residence of Old Master Guan Yongchong.
The eminent Grand Confucians Guan Yongchong and Cui Shi'an dwelt in the bamboo groves of Mount An'yu beyond the city walls—a place backed by mountains, with water flowing past its edge.
Since the day before, Bai Jinchi had begged and pleaded to accompany Bai Jingyan on her call upon Old Master Guan, and today she rode along on horseback.
Just as the Zhenguo Commandery Princess's party had left the city, they happened upon the peace-delegation procession returning to Xiliang.
Li Zhijie's subordinate, spotting the dashing Bai Jinchi riding toward them from a distance, drew near Li Zhijie's carriage and, bending low at the waist, reported to the man inside.
“Your Highness, the Gaoyi County Princess rides out of the city on horseback.”
Li Zhijie, who had been sitting with his eyes closed inside the carriage, opened them.
“The Gaoyi County Princess—alone?”
“There is one more carriage behind her. It appears to be the Zhenguo Commandery Princess.”
Li Zhijie held his silence for a moment, then spoke.
“Order the procession to halt. I have words for the Zhenguo Commandery Princess.”
“Yes, Your Highness!”
The procession bound for Xiliang slowed to a stop, and Li Zhijie alighted from his carriage with the support of a close guard.
Seeing Li Zhijie standing beside a guard bearing the Xiliang banner, Bai Jinchi dropped her voice and murmured toward the carriage behind her.
“Big Sister, Li Zhijie looks as though he's waiting for us!”
Remembering how, on the day the Crown Prince took the Xiliang Princess as a side consort, the princess had gone half-mad trying to kill her eldest sister, a hot surge of fury rose in Bai Jinchi's chest. She wondered what scheme Li Zhijie was cooking up this time.
“Leave him be.”
At the calm voice drifting from within the carriage, Bai Jinchi settled her heart once more, then looked down at Li Zhijie from horseback with eyes at once proud and contemptuous.
As Bai Jingyan's carriage drew steadily closer, Li Zhijie curved his lips into a smile and bade his men block the party's way.
“Commandery Princess—the Prince of Yan wishes to offer you his personal apology.”
A Xiliang guard holding a curved blade stepped forward, paid a deeply respectful salute, and spoke.
Chun Tao raised a hand and lifted the carriage curtain.
Bai Jingyan looked out at Li Zhijie standing in the distance.
“Spare me the apology. Tell the Prince of Yan to think long and hard on the road back to Xiliang. Their peace-alliance princess has turned assassin—so what reparations to Jin will suffice to avert a war?”