Chapter 699: The Flood

Pan Yun entrusted the three sea ships to Zhang Weiyi and Qu Le, which was in effect entrusting them to the Celestial Tian Zhang Tian Shi Fu and the Wu Lin Alliance, and could be considered a fulfillment of their alliance pact.

Pan Yun: "Of the three ships, aside from the one promised to the Navy government office and the Prefect, the other two can take passengers — twenty taels per person. For cargo, we'll give you thirty percent off the market price."

Knowing full well Pan Yun was making them work for free, they still had to do their best.

After all, the people the Celestial Tian Zhang Tian Shi Fu and the Wulin Alliance Sect sent to take over the port and the silver mine were not paid by her — they counted as partners.

By handing the ships to them rather than to the Navy government office and the Prefect, she gave them an extra bargaining chip.

For that reason, they couldn't let her suffer a loss either — they had to do their best to arrange these three ships properly.

That night, Pan Yun took her three martial nephews and flew back to Mount Sanqing.

The dark night hid the figure of the Three Treasure Cauldron well, letting them fly low on the way back, and so they saw the common folk who, with their houses destroyed, were sleeping out in the open.

Scattered bonfires burned; nearby wealthy households had brought grain to relieve the suffering, built up a cooking stove, and were boiling porridge in a great big pot.

As Pan Yun flew over their heads, she could still smell the porridge's fragrance. The disaster victims, who were holding bowls and queuing, sensed something and looked up, but only saw the moon hanging in the eastern sky.

"Today's the eighteenth, right? The moon's only missing a sliver."

"It is the eighteenth. The rice-planting season's already passed. Sigh, my newly harvested wheat — it was all in the house. One great wind and one heavy rain, and it was all ruined."

"Sigh~~"

"Stop sighing. The fields are still there — just farm them again. Steward Zhou said every tenant household can borrow a hundred catties of grain from him, no interest."

Flying on, Pan Yun also saw disaster victims scattered sparsely in the wilds. Two children were hiding in a thicket, their two bodies curled up tight together, not moving at all.

Miao, quick-eyed and deft-handed, tossed down a small bundle.

With a slap, the bundle landed at their side.

The two children startled, clutching each other. After a long while, no one came to grab them, and from the bundle they smelled the scent of food.

A dirty little hand reached out from the grass, swiftly dragged the bundle in, and opened it to find a small bag of rice inside, along with a big pack of steamed buns and a waterskin.

The two children's eyes lit up; they grabbed the buns and wolfed them down. After each had eaten one bun, they finally took stock of what remained.

One child picked up two yellow talismans folded into triangles, looked them over carefully, gave one to his sister, and tucked one into his own clothes.

He cautiously poked his head out and looked up at the sky.

There was nothing in the sky.

So he pulled his sister out, knelt on the ground, and kowtowed toward the sky: "Quick, bow — this was given to us by the immortals."

His sister asked in a childish voice: "Wasn't it from Papa and Mama?"

The boy was silent for a moment, then said: "It must be that Papa and Mama begged the immortals for it."

The sister then respectfully kowtowed three times toward the sky together with her brother.

Pan Yun flew past the town.

There were officials on night patrol, who, upon seeing sick people collapsed on the streets, would carry them to the County Medical Office, and lead people going from street to street to tally the disaster victims and count the sick.

Pan Yun saw the river outside the city — churning, turbid, almost half mud and sand — and felt deeply distressed: "Could it really be this severe?"

Xue Shao was also on the road.

From Fujian to Jingcheng, the route had to pass through Zhejiang, Jiangxi, Southern Zhili, and Anhui…

He reached out and touched the watermarks left on the city wall after the flood receded, then looked at the silt and debris accumulated inside the city, and murmured: "Could it really be this severe?"

The Embroidered Uniform Guard escorting Xue Shao showed a mocking look: "Censor Xue is the Jiangnan Touring Censor, yet does he not know how severe the Jiangnan flood is?"

Chen Liutao at one side looked as though he wanted to speak but held back.

Xue Shao said nothing.

He walked into the city.

Though it was already night, the city gates were not closed, nor were there any guards. The whole city was empty, as if it were a ghost town.

Xue Shao trudged through the mud, his back to the moon, walking toward the depths of the darkness.

A rustling sound arose. A thin, raggedly dressed person, hunched over, dragged something out of the mud and was hauling it toward a house nearby.

Xue Shao quickened his pace two steps and hurried to give chase.

Someone was faster than him —

A person darted out from the side, grabbed that person in one motion, and violently wrestled for the thing in his hands.

Xue Shao sped up his steps and heard the other's hoarse, harsh scolding: "Don't eat it!"

"This is a pig washed down by the flood — eating it will give you the plague! Let go!"

Hearing this, Xue Shao ran up and helped snatch away that bloated, mud-covered dead pig.

Seeing Xue Shao had brought so many people, that man turned to run. Xue Shao grabbed his sleeve in one motion, was pulled into a stagger by him, and tumbled to the ground.

Xi Jin hurried forward to help Xue Shao up, while Chen Liutao and Qu Zhixing grabbed hold of the struggling man trying to flee.

"Censor Xue?"

A quarter of an hour later, Xue Shao, half his body covered in mud, sat at the entrance of the county government office, watching alongside County Magistrate Dai Rong the disaster victim who had only just stopped struggling.

He held Xue Shao's dry rations in his hand and was wolfing them down.

He ate so fast he choked, his eyes rolling back.

Xue Shao hurriedly unscrewed the waterskin and handed it to him. Only after the man got that mouthful of food down did Xue Shao breathe a sigh of relief and admonish: "Eat slowly."

The disaster victim nodded repeatedly, but didn't take it in, still frantically stuffing things into his throat.

Dai Rong watched and felt a pang of sorrow; tears couldn't help but stream down. He covered his face and wept loudly: "Of my Kunshan, over ten thousand people — scarcely any remain."

Xue Shao asked: "How long has this been going on, and what are the casualties?"

Dai Rong: "Twelve days. Half a month ago, wind and rain struck violently, pouring down for three days straight. Water overflowed the flatlands by several feet. I had the city's people take shelter on high ground, and drained the water to relieve the flood. Later the sky cleared, so I thought it was over and ordered the people back into the city, but, but…"

He covered his face and wept: "That night, Lake Tai's waters overflowed and surged down along the river channels. Songjiang also rose in great waves; the lake and the sea swelled together. Along both banks, no people, livestock, or houses survived. Kunshan — the whole city of Kunshan was submerged…"

Xue Shao pressed his shoulder in silence, waited for him to cry it out, then continued calmly asking: "Have the casualties been tallied? Is there relief grain in the city? Has it been reported to the imperial court?"

Dai Rong wiped his tears dry, then replied calmly: "Four hundred and sixty-two dead, missing… eight hundred and thirty-nine. Because the city sits on low ground, all the filth was washed here, and fearing the flood might return, I moved all the city's people to the high ground outside."

He pointed in a direction and said, "Right now they're all over there, barely holding on with the grain from the storehouse, but they won't last much longer. After the flood I sent a three-hundred-li urgent report to the imperial court, but… there's been no reply to this day."

Xue Shao sprang to his feet, his face dark, and paced in circles on the spot.

A three-hundred-li urgent dispatch — from here to Jingcheng, the memorial could be delivered into the capital by the third day.

A disaster is as urgent as a fire; by the fourth day at the latest, Dai Rong should also have received a reply, yet up to now there has been no word.

Unless… the memorial never made it up, or the court has no money and has decided to handle it coldly.

Xue Shao closed his eyes briefly, clenched his fists, turned and said, "I'll go out of the city with you to take a look. Tomorrow I'll ride hard for the capital."

Dai Rong immediately knelt: "This humble official, on behalf of the people of Kun Mountain, kowtows to thank Imperial Censor Xue."

Xue Shao helped him up, gripping him tightly, and said, "This is simply Xue Mou's duty. I only learned of the Jiangnan flooding today — a full half-month late — that is already Xue Mou's dereliction of duty."

Dai Rong gave a bitter laugh: "Why must Brother Xue take the blame on yourself? In the Jiangnan official circles there have long been rumors that you went overseas with those Daoist Priests and Wu Lin knights to wipe out pirates. After you vanished from Jiangnan, when people met in private they were all hoping you'd been tied up by the matter of the Wo country and wouldn't come back."

Many things are hidden from above but not from below. Xue Shao's going overseas — Jingcheng may not even know about it — but the Jiangnan officialdom, which had been keeping close watch on Xue Shao's movements, received the news at the very first moment.

And so, this time the Wu Lin Alliance and the Celestial Tian Zhang Tian Shi Fu going overseas went especially smoothly. Even the Navy Office privately lent them ships, and the various ranks of Jiangnan officials looked on yet said not a word.

They simply wanted them to take Xue Shao as far away as possible; if in the end he didn't come back, they'd be willing to petition merit and honors for Xue Shao, to grant him posthumous glory.

In any case, anything was fine as long as he didn't come back. Dai Rong went along with the crowd too, feeling that if Xue Shao returned, things would go badly for him.

Although he had done nothing wrong, his superiors' backsides were not necessarily clean. When his superiors suffered, he, this little county magistrate, could only suffer along with them.

But he hadn't expected that, in less than a month, he would already begin to miss Xue Shao.

Especially after he sent three memorials in a row to the capital with no word, and went to the Suzhou Prefecture to beg an audience with the Prefect and still couldn't obtain relief grain, he missed Xue Shao beyond measure.

Dai Rong, pulling Xue Shao toward the city gate as they walked, wept: "So long as I can get relief grain for them, I'd gladly be stripped of my post."

The more he cried the more heartbroken he became: "Brother Xue, I don't have your courage. I've let down my late teacher, let down the people. I, I once thought of opening the Ever-Normal Granary on my own, but I was afraid of dying, and afraid of implicating my family…"

He gripped Xue Shao's hand tightly, his voice barely audible: "Right now it's one porridge a day, we can last another five days. If the relief grain still hasn't arrived in five days, I can only open the Ever-Normal Granary. When the time comes, please Brother Xue, protect my young son…"

Xue Shao squeezed his hand back tightly and said softly, "Don't worry."

Kun Mountain is all flat land, with very low elevation and a well-developed water system, hence it is a land of fish and rice.

But this also means that when a flood strikes, the people have nowhere to flee.

The whole of Kun Mountain County has only one mountain, called Jade Peak Mountain, and it is only eighty meters tall.

Because it stands alone in solitary splendor, it seems very precious. The literati and scholars of Kun Mountain, whether they had reason or not, usually liked to come here to climb high.

After the first downpour, Dai Rong had the people of the city take shelter on the mountain, and at the same time moved over as many villagers from nearby as could be relocated.

He later ordered the people to return home. Because everyone was dragging families along, only about two-thirds left immediately; the rest had not yet managed to withdraw.

In just one night, the flood suddenly came. Those who had stayed on the mountain survived, and then began, under Dai Rong's organization, to rescue those who had gone back down.

They rescued quite a few people one batch after another, but the missing were still many.

Dai Rong felt guilty in his heart, and added to that the long delay in receiving aid from the imperial court, which made him rapidly waste away. Now his official robe, worn on his body, hung empty on him like a piece of hemp cloth draped over a bamboo pole.

Seeing him in such a state, the people could not bear to reproach him. The wealthy households who had also taken shelter on the mountain gave grain to the best of their ability. It was entirely thanks to them and the grain preserved in the county office storehouse that everyone had safely survived until now.

At this moment the mood on the mountain was low. Dai Rong, afraid of affecting them, wiped his tears dry before going up, and cheerfully pulled Xue Shao up the mountain. (End of chapter)