Chapter 333

…

“There is indeed something—if the current emperor does not know, great disaster may strike.”

Zhao Yu had already suspected this old woman was a plant sent by someone to deceive him: “This old lady knows too much—she doesn’t act like a regular peasant woman.”

Now, with her saying this again, it seemed even more likely someone was using her mouth to convey a message to him.

Zhao Yu asked calmly: “What matter must the current emperor know? And what great disaster will occur if he does not?”

To Zhao Yu’s surprise, the old woman played the classic game of feigning indifference: “Sir, you are not the current emperor—knowing this will do you no good.”

Upon hearing this, those around her—especially Zhao Yu’s women—covered their mouths and stifled laughter.

Humans all have this flaw: the more secretive and half-spoken a matter is, the more it stirs an uncontrollable curiosity within.

Zhao Yu, though an emperor, was no exception.

So Zhao Yu smiled and said: “I am an old acquaintance of the current emperor; upon returning to the capital, I will likely see him.”

The old woman glanced at Zhao Yu, saw his commanding presence, noticed the stunning beauty of the women beside him, and observed the fierce, imposing guards outside the courtyard—she grew even more convinced of his stature, thinking perhaps he truly could meet the current emperor.

With this thought, the old woman told Zhao Yu: “Here in Weishan Lake, the stench of rotting aquatic weeds mixed with insect feces is so choking it blinds the eyes—there will surely be a locust plague.”

Zhao Yu had never expected she was speaking of locust control.

This was no trivial matter—it could indeed spark a major disaster.

More than ten years ago, swarms of locusts emerged from Honghu in Jiangsu; when they flew, they darkened the sky; when they landed, they covered the earth without gap; when clustered, they bent and snapped branches; when feeding, they made a rustling sound, and could form rolling balls to cross rivers—their ferocity was rare. For six days and six nights, they devoured crops, leaves, and wild grasses, turning the area around Honghu into a barren wasteland.

Locusts have been China’s greatest agricultural pest for two millennia, severely damaging farming. Worse still, locust plagues often follow severe droughts: just as people barely survive one drought, replanting a few emergency crops, the locusts arrive, crushing the fragile hope of survival once more.

This endless accumulation of suffering and disaster, when recorded in history, was reduced to six blood-drenched characters: “That year, famine; people ate each other.”

Faced with the surging locust armies, many chose submission—they summoned the Locust Queen and General Liu Meng, believing that if they devoutly worshipped these clay-and-gold idols, heaven’s wrath would be appeased and the locusts scattered.

Yet, some had always chosen to fight the locusts.

The Book of Han, Annals of Emperor Ping, records that as early as Yuan Shi 2 of the Western Han, people had already begun fighting locusts.

That year, a locust plague erupted in Qingzhou, Shandong; the court allocated vast funds to reward farmers who captured and killed locusts.

This was the earliest recorded locust-control decree in history.

By the Tang dynasty, Chancellor Yao Chong placed great emphasis on locust control and invented the fire-burning method. Since locusts are attracted to light, lighting bonfires in fields at night could burn vast numbers of them.

Until this era, the Chinese had accumulated vast, invaluable experience in locust control.

Yet these methods were clearly insufficient against massive locust armies.

Fortunately, this era had Zhao Yu and other time-travelers—and even more fortunately, among them was Yuan Qing Cheng, a top graduate from the Agricultural University who had studied locust control.

Back then, it seemed to be the third year of Zhao Yu’s reign when a massive locust plague erupted in Jiangsu.

Zhao Yu immediately ordered all transport bureaus and the Office of Permanent Equilibrium to come under direct imperial command (in reality, under Yuan Qing Cheng’s command), becoming specialized locust-control departments to wage a war against locusts.

—The Great Song had no dedicated locust-control agency; locust management relied on coordination among multiple departments, most notably the Transport Bureau and the Office of Permanent Equilibrium. The Transport Bureau originally handled military grain supplies, but its authority expanded over time to include finance, inspection, and more. During locust control, it participated in organizing relief efforts—for example, in the fourth year of Yuanfeng under Emperor Shenzong, the court ordered the Kaifeng Prefecture Office and the Transport Bureaus of Jingdong and Jingxi to dispatch officials to supervise locust capture. The Office of Permanent Equilibrium was established during Wang Anshi’s reforms, overseeing the Ever-Normal Granary, market regulation, public markets, ferry systems, and water conservancy. During famines, it managed granary storage and relief operations, coordinating resources and organizing civilians to capture locusts.

After assuming command, Yuan Qing Cheng immediately identified the Achilles’ heel of locusts, discovered by Ma Shijun through countless observations and studies: alternating drought and flood. That is, the rise and fall of water levels in wetlands determined the survival of locust egg-laying sites; by controlling water to stabilize levels, the drought-flood cycle could be eliminated.

Through Zhao Yu, Yuan Qing Cheng first had the Transport Bureau lead efforts, collaborating with local water officials to dredge old canals and build new dikes. Previously, wetland water levels fluctuated wildly with the seasons—dry periods exposed mud as ideal locust egg beds, while floods destroyed crops. After urgent repairs, the dikes locked water levels steadily at three feet, sealing the gap of drought-flood alternation; locust eggs in the wetlands lost their suitable hatching environment and gradually vanished.

Next, Yuan Qing Cheng ordered the Office of Permanent Equilibrium to distribute seedlings and promote cotton planting in locust-affected areas. Fields once stripped bare by locusts, reduced to stubble, were replanted with cotton plants possessing thick leaves and dense fuzz—locusts disliked the taste, and their feeding dropped sharply.

Simultaneously, Yuan Qing Cheng had the Office of Permanent Equilibrium establish “Locust-Knowing Households” in every village, assigning knowledgeable farmers to regularly patrol cotton fields and immediately report any isolated locusts.

Then, the Great Song’s locust-control system became even more refined.

Zhao Yu specially established the “Locust Office,” headed by the Director of the Three Bureaus, with officials from the Transport Bureau and the Office of Permanent Equilibrium stationed there to consolidate locust reports from all regions and coordinate resources.

Locally, each prefecture established a “Locust Prevention Office,” led by the Vice-Prefect, with “Locust Patrol Officers” responsible for inspecting water infrastructure and crop planting; each county established a “Locust Eradication Camp,” composed of conscripted militia and peasants armed with sickles and bamboo baskets, ready to respond to sudden outbreaks.

In key locust zones, “Water Level Offices” were set up to record wetland water levels daily and maintain correspondence with the Locust Office, ensuring water control remained flawless.

Initially, due to poor transportation and communication, messages often went awry. Sometimes, when a Locust Prevention Office discovered locust nymphs, the fast-horse report reached the Locust Office three days later—by the time Yuan Qing Cheng’s response arrived, the nymphs had grown into flying adults.

Yuan Qing Cheng, adapting to existing conditions, improved the courier system by adding “Flying Servant Stations” along locust-prone routes; critical messages were delivered by flying servants, while routine matters still used relay horses.

This doubled the speed of imperial orders.

Thus, over ten years passed. The Locust Office’s archives saw locust records shrink from thick stacks to mere scribbles, then to rare, isolated reports. The prefectures and counties once plagued by locusts now boasted vast cotton fields and sturdy dikes.

Yuan Qing Cheng’s fame had grown so immense that she became the foremost of Zhao Yu’s five women; ignorant commoners even mistook her for Zhao Yu’s lawful wife, believing she was his empress (the people knew only Lady Yuan, Lady Ma, and Lady Ye, unaware of Empress Zheng); some even deified her as a living immortal, erecting shrines to worship her. This was not only because she had multiplied the Great Song’s grain output manyfold, but also because she had finally rid the Great Song of the terrifying, sky-darkening locust plagues—this too was one reason the grain output had multiplied so greatly.

Today, the Great Song possessed a highly mature locust-control system with strict accountability: whoever’s jurisdiction suffered a locust plague would face Zhao Yu’s execution—and he would kill without mercy, regardless of who was involved.

A saying long circulated in the Great Song bureaucracy: “Corruption still offers a chance of survival; locust plague means certain death.”

Zhao Yu believed the court must already know of the locust situation at Weishan Lake and had already begun managing it—if not, then someone was testing whether his blade was sharp enough.

As for whether the old woman was truly planted by someone, since she had revealed nothing of great consequence, Zhao Yu decided to pretend ignorance.