Red Chamber 21
The Jiangnan flood was both a natural disaster and a man-made calamity.
Although Lin Ruhai was the Salt Censor, at this point, he no longer cared about his official position. To prevent refugees from storming the city, he had no choice but to heed the summons of Qian Mingfeng, the Governor of Liangjiang, and head to the front lines to contribute his efforts.
After days of relentless work and implementing work-for-relief measures to repair the river embankments, the people were finally somewhat pacified. Lin Ruhai was so exhausted that his legs trembled, and he could barely stand steady.
“Brother Lin, you’ve never been this worn out before, have you?”
Lin Ruhai had just found a clean rock to sit on when he heard a hearty laugh beside him.
The speaker was Qian Mingfeng, the Governor of Liangjiang. At this moment, he was dressed quite humbly—his silk official robe had been replaced with simple cloth garments, and the intricately embroidered boots on his feet had been swapped for the most ordinary black cloth boots. The only reason he wasn’t wearing straw sandals was to maintain a basic semblance of dignity.
However, Governor Qian clearly didn’t care much about appearances. As soon as he sat down, he took off his black cloth boots and turned them over to shake out the accumulated water.
“Wearing these boots in this situation is worse than wearing straw sandals—at least those are breathable. My feet are practically rotting from the damp, and the smell is overwhelming.” Qian Mingfeng was utterly unceremonious. Not only did he take off his shoes to air his feet, but he also pulled out a handkerchief to wipe his sweat with one hand while fanning himself with a straw hat in the other.
Although Lin Ruhai couldn’t bring himself to act so casually, he refrained from commenting on others’ behavior.
Even as Governor Qian’s feet emitted a pungent odor, Lin Ruhai remained unfazed and smiled, saying, “Though the black cloth boots are a bit stifling, they prevent leeches from sucking blood. In recent days, this humble official has seen many commoners wading through the water, and when they come ashore, their legs are often covered with several leeches.”
At this point, he sighed, his brow furrowed with concern, assuming the demeanor of one deeply troubled by the nation’s plight. “So many people have died, and many corpses are still floating in the water. If leeches feed on the blood of the dead and then bite the living, I fear an epidemic may break out.”
Initially, Qian Mingfeng had wanted to mock Lin Ruhai for being a “hypocritical moralist,” but his expression changed by the end of Lin Ruhai’s words.
“Even without the leeches, I too fear an epidemic.”
Whenever there are deaths and the bodies are not dealt with promptly, epidemics are likely to occur.
Jiangnan Prefecture was prosperous and densely populated. If a plague were to break out here, it would be a matter of national significance, no less severe than the Yellow River breaching its banks.
Qian Mingfeng remained composed. Despite the turmoil in his heart, his expression remained steady. “Jiangnan is wealthy and densely populated. We must prepare early, at least by stockpiling medicinal herbs.”
“But how difficult it is to hoard medicinal herbs! We have no connections, no imperial decree, and those medicinal merchants are the type who won’t act without seeing tangible benefits. Even if we bankrupt ourselves, we won’t be able to save many people.”
By the end of his speech, Qian Mingfeng was sighing deeply.
Even as the Governor of Liangjiang, there were times when his power fell short.
“Has there been any decree from Jingcheng?” Lin Ruhai took out a handkerchief to wipe the sweat from his forehead.
“The disaster is severe. Even if Jingcheng’s disaster relief funds arrive, the work still falls on us to carry out.” Qian Mingfeng licked his lips, which had become dry and cracked from days of toil. “But when it comes to contacting medicinal merchants, I am at a loss.”
Lin Ruhai understood Qian Mingfeng’s implication perfectly. As the Salt Censor, he was the one who dealt most frequently with merchants. Although he usually interacted with salt merchants, merchants of all kinds were interconnected and often exchanged resources.
He pursed his lips, not daring to respond to that statement. Instead, he pulled out a water pouch from his chest, removed the stopper, and said, “Sir, have a drink of water.”
Qian Mingfeng didn’t stand on ceremony. He took the water pouch and took a hearty gulp. “Right now, the Retired Emperor’s Hall of Imperial Supremacy and His Majesty’s Hall of Supreme Harmony—both court assemblies are likely worrying about the flood disaster. But who knows which side’s people will come this time.”
Lin Ruhai’s cousin was currently a noble lady in the Imperial harem, so he certainly hoped it would be the Emperor’s people.
If that were the case, he could naturally align himself with them.
But if it were the Retired Emperor’s people, he would have to keep his head down—at least until his cousin had firmly established herself, it wasn’t suitable for him to be too conspicuous.
Qian Mingfeng glanced at him discreetly and added, “I see you have some talent in flood control. Why did you end up in salt administration?” That was a deadly place.
In terms of wealth, the position was truly wealthy, handling millions of taels of silver, but it was also truly dangerous, with a high mortality rate.
“To be honest, sir, this humble official… had a streak of bad luck.” Lin Ruhai smiled, showing no resentment, and expressed his loyalty: “As long as I can share His Majesty’s burdens, no matter how difficult or bitter, I am willing to endure it.”
Qian Mingfeng smiled without comment, took another sip of water, and handed the pouch back to Lin Ruhai. “Storing water isn’t easy. Save it for yourself.”
Lin Ruhai hurriedly took it back. He was terribly thirsty himself.
“Since you’re willing to endure it, you should face the difficulties head-on and not disappoint His Majesty’s sincere intentions.”
Qian Mingfeng hinted meaningfully, then chuckled. “To prevent epidemics, we must still make some preparations. This year, I haven’t yet sent all of Liangjiang’s tax silver to Jingcheng. Even if we divert some, it could save countless lives.”
This was almost an explicit suggestion.
The salt certificates were exhausted in April, salt tax collection began in May, and the official silver was to be escorted to the capital before the Double Ninth Festival.
No matter how unwilling he was, Lin Ruhai couldn’t claim the tax silver had already been sent to the capital.
But diverting tax silver was no small matter. National tax policies were earmarked for specific uses. Once things went awry, if the higher-ups blamed him, his entire family’s lives wouldn’t be enough to atone. Moreover, with the capital far away, a single mistake could turn diversion into embezzlement, and Lin Ruhai’s lifelong reputation for integrity would be ruined.
For a moment, Lin Ruhai didn’t know what to do.
After resting for a while, both men regained some strength. Just as Lin Ruhai was about to get up and return to work, Qian Mingfeng suddenly asked, “I’ve heard that a woman from your Lin family has entered the Imperial harem?”
Heard?
Lin Ruhai froze. From whom?
Qian Mingfeng snorted with a laugh, patted Lin Ruhai on the shoulder, then turned, put on his straw hat, and strode away.
Lin Ruhai stared blankly at Qian Mingfeng’s retreating figure, his mind in turmoil.
Could it be that Qian Mingfeng, the Governor of Liangjiang, was actually the Emperor’s man?
With this suspicion in mind, Lin Ruhai began subconsciously observing Qian Mingfeng in the following days. Qian Mingfeng allowed it, as if unaware of his gaze, focusing entirely on the front lines.
The Grand Canal was a tributary of the Yangtze River.
After the heavy rain stopped, the swollen river ceased its surge and returned to calm. But the submerged villages and farmland couldn’t be restored anytime soon. The common people, reluctant to leave their homeland, tried every possible means to return home.
Upon seeing the collapsed houses in the village, the dead chickens and ducks, and the bodies of loved ones drifting away to unknown places.
Everywhere, there was weeping; everywhere, an atmosphere of despair and sorrow permeated.
Lin Ruhai was exhausted to the point of barely being able to lift his legs, yet he persisted, witnessing the disaster that resembled a living hell. The relief officials from Jingcheng had not yet arrived, but rhapsodies describing the calamity had already been written—seventeen or eighteen of them. A group of officials who had risen through the imperial examinations wielded their pens like sharp blades, crafting rhapsodies that moved readers to tears.
Especially Qian Mingfeng, who, despite being a rough and unrefined man, wrote an essay that moved a whole crowd to tears during the morning court assembly.
But tears aside, the disaster relief funds had yet to arrive, and the victims could not wait. Lin Ruhai and several other officials pooled their donations, though the amounts were not substantial—some gave fifty thousand taels, while others contributed as little as one or two hundred taels. It was enough to sustain them for two days, but no more.
It was during these two days that the relief funds finally arrived, saving Lin Ruhai from a dire predicament. At least he no longer had to consider whether to misappropriate the salt tax. Yet, debates and arguments began anew.
How to use the relief funds remained a contentious issue.
The Retired Emperor, intent on tempering the Emperor, entrusted the entire matter of the flood to Shui Cong. This marked the first time Shui Cong was granted access to Jiangnan Prefecture.
Naturally, Shui Cong seized this opportunity, dispatching his most trusted confidants to escort the relief funds.
This time, he was ruthless, assigning the task to a childhood companion who had grown up with him—someone whose loyalty was absolute.
Due to the floods in Jiangnan, the Emperor was preoccupied with disaster relief. Whenever he visited Yongshou Palace, it was solely for sleep.
He discovered that whenever he was by A Yuan’s side, his sleep quality improved remarkably—restful and dreamless throughout the night. The next day, he would feel refreshed, as if brimming with boundless energy. Thus, even if it meant merely sleeping without any other activities, he preferred to make the extra effort to come to Yongshou Palace.
This further highlighted A Yuan’s favored status.
The palace was filled with opportunists. Even though the Retired Emperor still held power and suppressed the Emperor, it did not stop these palace servants from scrambling to find their way into Yongshou Palace. Nowadays, it was not just Aunt Jin and the Emperor who hoped for A Yuan to become pregnant; even many unfamiliar palace servants were secretly praying.
They prayed for Noble Consort Lin to conceive soon, to be promoted to consort or imperial consort, so that they might have the chance to serve in Yongshou Palace.
From investigating the cause of the dam breach, to collecting relief grain and funds, selecting relief officials, and discussing comprehensive post-disaster reconstruction and epidemic prevention plans, the Emperor had been ceaselessly busy.
At an age when he was still growing and filling out, the mental strain made him appear even more gaunt.
This also led the Emperor to increasingly favor retreating to Yongshou Palace.
A Yuan lay drowsily on the reclining couch.
Since confirming her pregnancy, she had become prone to sleepiness, though she experienced no other pregnancy symptoms.
“My lady, your belly will soon be two months along. When do you plan to summon the Imperial Physician?” Aunt Jin asked, fan in hand, bending slightly as she fanned. Her heart was tangled with worry. “His Majesty comes every few days. What if one day…”
She truly feared that the young couple might act recklessly and harm the child.
“No rush,” A Yuan murmured, her eyes half-closed, too drowsy to lift her eyelids. “It’s not yet time.”
Aunt Jin looked with a pained expression at her mistress’s still-flat abdomen.
“His Majesty has been troubled by the affairs in Jiangnan these days. If we reveal it now, although it may bring His Majesty joy, his mind is still preoccupied with the flood situation.” A Yuan yawned, twirling the eighteen-bead bracelet she had recently retrieved from the Emperor’s Private Treasury between her fingers. Her voice, though soft, carried a firm resolve: “My child naturally deserves his father’s wholehearted anticipation.”
What could Aunt Jin say?
Her mistress’s pregnancy was already approaching three months of concealment.
Moreover, her belly was beginning to show!
“Mistress, this servant believes it would be better to report it sooner rather than later. Your figure is slender and graceful, but if we continue to hide it, your pregnancy signs may soon be discovered.”
Announcing it oneself and having it exposed by others were two entirely different matters.
“Enough.” This Aunt Jin was endlessly nagging.
A Yuan sat up impatiently, smoothing her hair with a hand. “Counting the days, revealing it now is indeed possible, though it won’t maximize our advantage.” She couldn’t help feeling somewhat dissatisfied.
But Aunt Jin was right—her belly… did seem to be slightly rounded.
Could it be because she was too thin? With such a thin layer of fat, even the slightest change in her belly became immediately noticeable?
A Yuan had originally planned everything perfectly, intending to reveal the news at the critical moment.
Now, it seemed plans could not keep up with changes.
“Auntie, go to the Qianqing Palace and say that I am unwell, and wish for His Majesty to come see me.” A Yuan rose from the reclining couch and slowly made her way toward the inner chamber of the hall.
Since she was unwell, she naturally had to lie in bed—that was her stage.
Shui Cong had visited several times recently, but she had avoided intimacy with medicine.
She could sense the Emperor’s physical restlessness, but the medicine forced him to ‘rest properly.’ If she continued to conceal it, the Emperor might persist through his exhaustion to finish his duties before sleeping.
After all, the medicine only induced fatigue; it couldn’t eliminate physiological reactions.
Seeing her mistress settled in bed, Aunt Jin immediately went to the Qianqing Palace. She didn’t trust Bao Qin or Dai Shu with delivering the message, as they lacked the ‘gold card’ and naturally weren’t as ‘considerate’ as she was.
She had once managed the meals in the Qianqing Palace and had operated there for many years, making her a seasoned figure. Even Chang’an, the Chief Steward of the Imperial Presence, would listen to her. So, frowning thoughtfully, she ‘quietly’ made her way to the Qianqing Palace.
You Fu spotted her at once and hurried over: “Auntie, what brings you to the Qianqing Palace today? Does the Noble Lady have any instructions?”
“Is His Majesty available at the moment?” Aunt Jin didn’t answer directly but inquired about the Emperor’s situation, wearing an expression that said, ‘If he’s busy, never mind.’ Her hesitant demeanor was truly suspicious.
Sure enough, You Fu’s expression grew serious: “Is something amiss with the Noble Lady?”
“My mistress has been unwell since morning but refuses to summon an Imperial Physician. I’m just…” Aunt Jin glanced at You Fu, leaving her words hanging.
You Fu understood instantly.
There were some matters he shouldn’t pry into. His expression tightened, and his tone became solemn: “His Majesty is currently in discussion with court officials. Please wait a moment, Auntie. I will inform him as soon as he is free.”
“Thank you for the trouble.”
“No trouble at all. His Majesty cares deeply for the Noble Lady.” With that, he entered the room.
At that moment, Shui Cong was receiving a messenger from Jiangnan.
The disaster relief officials arrived in Jiangnan and immediately threw themselves into their work. Since they had brought along several Imperial Physicians, the initial signs of an epidemic were quickly suppressed. Soon after, good news followed: first, the water levels receded, and many submerged villages resurfaced.
Additionally, the timely handling of animal and victim corpses prevented any outbreak of disease.
“…Governor of Liangjiang Qian Mingfeng has extensive experience in flood control. The breached dam has been temporarily sealed, and repairs can begin once water levels return to normal.” The Emperor’s childhood study companion and now trusted confidant, Wei Ruo Qiong, appeared to be in decent spirits, though he leaned lazily against his chair, looking utterly exhausted.
It was clear he had washed up after returning, yet the scent of travel still clung to him.
“Are there any other issues with the breached dam?” Shui Cong set down the memorial in his hand.
Hearing the Emperor’s question, Wei Ruo Qiong’s expression grew more serious. “The biggest issue is that this very breach was repaired just three years ago, and the supervisor in charge of the construction was none other than Zhen Yingjia of the Zhen family.”
To speak of Zhen Yingjia, he had no remarkable talents, but he had an elder sister who doted on him immensely—the imperial concubine of Ningshou Palace.
Zhen Yingjia’s scholarly abilities were mediocre, and his official skills were equally unremarkable. Initially, he had obtained a hereditary privilege for a scholarly position—respectable and dignified. However, the imperial concubine was dissatisfied and pleaded with the Retired Emperor to assign Zhen Yingjia the task of supervising the construction of the canal embankments.
Of course, Zhen Yingjia was not the chief supervisor but was sent as a deputy to gain experience—a figurative “gold-plating.” Yet, the Zhen family held overwhelming power in Jiangnan Prefecture. The chief supervisor in charge of the construction, though technically skilled, lacked influential backing. Not long after overseeing the embankment repairs, he was thrown from his horse in a frightful accident, and now the grass on his grave stood several feet high.
Neither Shui Cong nor Wei Ruo Qiong believed there was no foul play involved.
“That man has my father’s protection, making this difficult to handle.” The Emperor’s expression darkened, filled with dissatisfaction toward Zhen Yingjia and frustration at being suppressed by the Retired Emperor. Still, he remained relatively composed and quickly adjusted his mood. “Never mind, we’ll take it step by step.”
He was still young and had plenty of time.
A few days earlier, when he went to Ningshou Palace to pay his respects, he noticed his father’s graying hair and suddenly realized… his father was growing old.
“By the way, during this trip, I discovered a capable man in Yangzhou,” Wei Ruo Qiong said, not wanting to provoke the Emperor’s anger. Even if the Emperor could not yet govern personally, he was still the sovereign above all. If he truly became enraged, Wei Ruo Qiong would have no recourse. Thus, he quickly changed the subject. “It’s Yangzhou’s Salt Censor, Lin Ruhai. He’s quite an interesting fellow.”
Shui Cong’s attention shifted.
Lin Ruhai—wasn’t he the cousin of Noble Consort Lin from Yongshou Palace?
He was also an official the Emperor intended to befriend, so he asked, “Oh? You call him both capable and interesting—it seems you have a very favorable impression of him?”
“It’s because that old fox Qian Mingfeng tried to trap him, demanding he misappropriate the newly collected salt tax as disaster relief funds. This man may not be particularly bold, but he has a sharp mind. First, he took the initiative to lead by example and donate, then persuaded major merchant guilds to contribute money and effort. All it cost him was erecting a few merit steles.”
It was essentially a venture with no cost and immense returns.
However, such a tactic could only work once. No matter how capable Lin Ruhai was, he couldn’t bring significant benefits to the merchant guilds.
“It’s quite resourceful of him to come up with such an idea.” Shui Cong laughed as soon as he heard it. “This Qian Mingfeng is indeed bold, even considering misappropriating tax funds.”
Wei Ruo Qiong dared not speak.
After all, this matter was not permissible. Tax funds were of great importance and had to be submitted to the Ministry of Revenue before being allocated by the ministry. Private misappropriation not only constituted overstepping authority but also set a dangerous precedent, serving as an example for future tax fund misuse.
“Old Qian is just anxious. The disaster in Jiangnan… is truly tragic.”
Qian Mingfeng, originally from a military background, had a natural sympathy for the common people. Seeing the plight of the disaster victims, it was understandable that he would be anxious and distressed. Moreover, as the Governor of Liangjiang, if he misappropriated tax funds and later replenished them with disaster relief funds, he could manage the situation without causing Lin Ruhai any losses.
Shui Cong sighed. “Since this matter hasn’t been carried out, let’s not dwell on it. However, such thoughts must never arise again.”
He lowered his head to look at the memorial in his hand, which detailed the allocation of disaster relief funds for the Jiangnan floods, but his mind was on Lin Ruhai.
This man showed some quick thinking—he neither offended Qian Mingfeng nor neglected the financial matters. In fact, the salt tax revenue had improved significantly over the past two years.
“The situation in Jiangnan is not yet resolved. Rest for two days, then head to Yangzhou again.”
Upon hearing this, Wei Ruo Qiong immediately knelt to receive the order. “Your servant obeys.”
“Your mother is unwell again. Return home and spend some time with her.” Shui Cong waved his hand, dismissing Wei Ruo Qiong.
Shortly after Wei Ruo Qiong left, You Fu entered the hall to report.
Soon, You Fu emerged again and invited Aunt Jin inside for questioning.
“Is Noble Consort Lin unwell in some way, that you’ve come all this way?” Aunt Jin, being the Emperor’s confidante, spoke with a familiar tone.
Yet Aunt Jin remained as cautious as ever. “Replying to His Majesty, it was this servant who took the initiative to come to the Qianqing Palace to seek Your Majesty. Since this morning, my mistress has been feeling very unwell but refuses to summon an Imperial Physician. This servant truly had no other choice.”
She was merely a servant—how could she defy her mistress?
“Oh? Unwell?” Shui Cong immediately set down his brush, stood up, and walked around the imperial desk, heading out while asking, “Is she in pain anywhere?”
Aunt Jin quickly rose and followed. “She hasn’t mentioned any pain, but less than three quarters of an hour after waking this morning, she fell into a deep sleep again. She missed the midday meal and slept until the afternoon, and she still hasn’t woken up.”
Slept the entire day?
Shui Cong paused in his steps, growing increasingly worried.
“To Yongshou Palace.” Crossing the threshold, Shui Cong didn’t slow his pace and directly issued the order.
The quick-witted You Fu immediately announced, “Prepare the imperial sedan for Yongshou Palace—”
Shui Cong did not ride the imperial sedan, relying solely on his own legs to walk from Qianqing Palace all the way to Yongshou Palace. By the time the imperial sedan was prepared, he had already crossed the threshold and turned the corner, leaving a group of attendants scrambling to carry the sedan and chase after him.
Walking briskly all the way to Yongshou Palace, You Fu’s voice had just echoed past the screen wall when Shui Cong’s figure appeared at the entrance of the main hall. The junior eunuch sweeping the floor was so startled that he fell to his knees on the bluestone pavement with a loud thud, audible from a distance.
Shui Cong headed straight for the Eastern Warm Chamber bedchamber, pulled aside the bed curtain, and saw the sleeping beauty inside.
She appeared to be sleeping peacefully, her cheeks rosy, showing no signs of discomfort. Yet the anxiety on Bao Qin and Dai Shu’s faces seemed genuine.
“How long has the Noble Consort been asleep?” Shui Cong turned to ask Bao Qin.
“Your servant reports to His Majesty, our mistress has been sleeping longer each day these past few days. At first, she still remembered to eat, but today she even forgot her mealtime.” As Bao Qin spoke, her eyes reddened.
Seeing this, Dai Shu was momentarily stunned, then quickly held her breath, taking a long while to force her face to flush red.
Shui Cong’s expression shifted slightly—it was this serious!
Recently preoccupied with flood control matters, even when he came to Yongshou Palace, he would only sleep and leave. It had been many days since he had properly spoken with Noble Consort Lin. Likely, Noble Consort Lin did not wish to trouble him, which is why she had been concealing her discomfort all along.
Shui Cong was deeply moved and immediately instructed You Fu to personally summon the imperial physician.
With the deputy chief steward of Qianqing Palace involved, the imperial physician arrived swiftly, and it turned out to be a familiar face—Imperial Physician Zhao.
Just as he stepped into Yongshou Palace, he once again heard the Emperor’s anxious inquiry, “Why hasn’t the imperial physician arrived yet?”
Imperial Physician Zhao had already adopted a detached attitude. He didn’t even bend his knees and even had the composure to pull up Female Physician Fang, who was about to kneel, before leading her straight into the winter heated chamber.
“Your humble servant pays respects to His Majesty,” Imperial Physician Zhao performed the customary salute with practiced ease. Upon hearing the Emperor’s impatient command to rise, he led Female Physician Fang to the bedside.
Aunt Jin hurriedly informed the imperial physician of A Yuan’s symptoms over the past few days.
Upon hearing it wasn’t a rash, Imperial Physician Zhao lost much of his interest, but duty still called. Kneeling on the footstool, he stroked his beard with one hand while taking the pulse with the other. After a long while, he finally spoke, “Switch to the other hand.”
The Emperor, who was half-embracing A Yuan, quickly offered the other hand.
Imperial Physician Zhao took the pulse for another extended period before the gravity on his face gradually faded, replaced entirely by joy.
“Congratulations, Your Majesty! Noble Consort Lin is with child. Judging by the pulse, it appears to be about two months along.”