Chapter 1494: Donations Pour In, Disasters Strike

The afternoon sunlight made the palace brilliantly bright, and rarely were the halls of Ziwei City so luminous. This was Qianning Hall—unlike the multi-purpose Chuigong Hall, this was a place truly meant for Emperor Liu to rest and recuperate, and in the past, Emperor Liu had seldom set foot here.

But these past few days were different. Emperor Liu had not only come, but had stayed for several days, putting on the appearance of quiet cultivation—seeing no one, paying no heed to worldly affairs, as if trying to cast off all the troubles and vexations of the world.

The autumn of the tenth year of Kaibao had arrived, and the heat was gradually receding. In this season that symbolized harvest, the Great Han Empire still had not found peace.

The great flood of the Central Plains, a once-in-twenty-years disaster, saw the Hong River overflow its banks. For the empire, it was truly a heavy blow, and its enormous, profound impact had already begun to ferment.

The work of reconstruction and recovery was not easy, especially the preparation of money and grain. There was no shortage of grain for disaster relief—the granaries throughout the realm were full of it; one only needed to mobilize manpower and dispatch it to the various prefectures according to plan.

But disaster relief required more than just grain. A great quantity of supporting supplies had to be raised, and the key element in all of this was money.

Ever since their request for a loan from Emperor Liu had been rejected, Chancellors Wang and Shen had immediately adjusted their mindset and begun to "handle real matters." If the Finance Commission truly wanted to turn over a sum of money, it was still no problem. After some deliberation, Shen Yilun quickly raised over a million strings of cash.

But this figure, compared to the scale of the dozens of prefectures and counties along the river and the millions of people affected, was like trying to put out a cartload of firewood with a cup of water. More money could certainly be produced, but the price to be paid was something the Finance Minister had to weigh repeatedly. Much of what Wang Qiwu said made good sense—the Great Han's scope was too vast, and it was impossible to recklessly divert other funds just for disaster relief. One problem would lead to a string of problems, and the priorities and urgencies among them were worth careful consideration.

The court, which gathered the finest minds of the realm, naturally had no shortage of clever men. The Finance Commission especially was full of meticulous calculators, and soon someone proposed a solution that resolved the worries of Chancellors Wang and Shen.

Minister of Revenue Liu Xigu suggested that since no money could be borrowed from the imperial privy purse, they should change their target—same line of thinking, but shifting the borrowing target to the nobles, landowners, and merchants of the Western Capital.

The merchants especially—they were certain to have money. The court had harvested them like leeks more than once, the most recent time being just last year. Moreover, borrowing was only a stopgap measure, an emergency solution; once the new season's tax revenue came in, all problems would be resolved.

This proposal quickly won Shen Yilun's approval, but Wang Qiwu did not accept it. He seemed to have a certain moral fastidiousness. In his view, the court should never have to appeal to a bunch of merchants for aid; moreover, doing so would expose the court's financial difficulties—where would face be left?

Wang Qiwu disagreed, so Shen Yilun and Liu Xigu naturally dared not proceed. Their concerns were understandable, but the problem still had to be solved, and so matters reached a standstill.

But as a chancellor of the court, Wang Qiwu was clearly clever, and his mind was not as rigid as his usual stiff demeanor suggested. Just as Shen Yilun was planning to "save" another sum of money from elsewhere, Chancellor Wang's wise brain was unlocked.

Since the target was merchants, why borrow at all? Just go straight for donations—call upon the nobles, officials, and merchants of the capital to contribute generously, to offer what strength they could for the state and court, for the people of the disaster-stricken areas...

So open and aboveboard, with no need to worry about repayment or interest. And there was precedent for this—back in the day, Duke Murong Yanchao of Luan had repaired Kaifeng and renovated Luoyang, and he had run a "donation drive" as well, with the merchants of the two capitals as the primary targets.

Once this line of thinking was opened, everything became clear. Soon, a donation drive among the capital's wealthy and noble circles began, personally presided over by Chancellor Wang Qiwu.

With Wang Qiwu taking the lead, how could the various clans and families refuse to show face? Moreover, Emperor Liu's great tiger-skin banner—the biggest in the Great Han—was also hoisted as a flag. Even knowing full well they would have to bleed, they had to pinch their noses and accept it.

After all, those who donated might not be remembered, but those who didn't would certainly stand out. And so, an event meant to display loyalty and righteousness seemed to evolve into a political contribution.

Every ministry and bureau in the capital urged their subordinate officials and clerks to donate money. Under such circumstances, how could anyone dare not to be enthusiastic? Even Wang Qiwu himself donated a thousand strings—no small sum for him.

Chief Chancellor Zhao Pu, who had been quietly watching from the sidelines, also stepped forward at the opportune moment, doing two things: first, tightening his own belt to donate a thousand strings; second, limiting those required to donate at court to officials of the fifth rank and above.

Capital officials might have all sorts of advantages, but it still depended on position, on rank, on background. For the vast majority of mid- and low-ranking officials, life was not as good as it appeared on the surface.

Zhao Pu's second measure showed deep consideration for those below, won the support of many, and harvested no small amount of official goodwill in one stroke.

The donation drive was carried out with great vigor and made quite a stir. Emperor Liu naturally heard about it, and even donated fifty thousand strings in his own name. As for Wang Qiwu and the others' practice of borrowing his imperial prestige on a technicality, he did not quibble—after all, he himself had told them to find a way.

The only thing that slightly displeased Emperor Liu was that none of the donors—whether nobles or wealthy merchants—had contributed more than fifty thousand strings.

It wasn't that he was dissatisfied with the figure, but that their stated reason was that they dared not "overstep"—they absolutely could not exceed Emperor Liu in the amount of their donations.

Still, it was ultimately a minor episode, and the results were gratifying. In just five days, over two million strings of disaster relief funds were raised in the Western Capital. It proved that nobles, landowners, and wealthy merchants truly did have money—no matter when.

At the same time, the Ministry of Revenue dispatched officials east to Kaifeng to assist Regent Lü Yin in running a similar donation drive in the Eastern Capital. With the combined contributions from the two capitals, even if it didn't completely solve the disaster relief problem, at least the court's financial embarrassment in the recovery efforts would be alleviated.

And by the time autumn arrived, the third batch of supplies coordinated by the court had already been dispatched to the disaster areas. The matter had been accomplished—that was what mattered most.

But before Wang Qiwu and the others could even breathe a slight sigh of relief, an even more troublesome piece of news arrived: epidemic disease had broken out in the flood-affected prefectures.

In this regard, the court had been prepared. As early as before the rainy season ended, there had already been signs—on the flood-fighting front lines, disease had been common due to the harsh conditions.

The court naturally mobilized large quantities of medicinal herbs and medical officers to go there to prevent the epidemic. But the sanitary conditions in the localities were simply too weak. No matter which link in the chain had failed, the final outbreak of the epidemic could not be prevented.

When the news arrived, the entire court was shaken. This time, Emperor Liu did not fly into a great rage; he merely announced his instructions in a calm tone. And so, after the flood-fighting and disaster relief of May and June, the Great Han of July began a new round of epidemic-fighting and people-saving.

Natural disasters would not cease, coming one after another. Scene after scene gave Emperor Liu a feeling of déjà vu, as if he had returned to those equally disaster-plagued early Qianyou years. How could his mood be good?

The state faced calamity, the outer court was unsettled, and the disturbances within the inner palace equally vexed him. As Zhang Dejun's investigation proceeded rapidly, one person after another, one matter after another, was gradually exposed. Emperor Liu also came to realize that the enchanting splendor of Ziwei City seemed, indeed, to be an illusion that had been crafted for him.