Chapter 951: The Great Wind Comes

Pan Yun believed this was heaven's support; otherwise, how could tossing a branch to find Pu Min have led her to tungsten ore?

Clearly, heaven also supported her accelerating the era's progress, so that present and future commoners would endure less suffering.

Pan Yun chuckled sharply, shattered a large rock with one palm, and casually picked up several pieces of tungsten stone to put away: "Let's go. Since heaven has given us signs, Pu Min must be nearby. Climb higher—they'll need fire to refine silver, so follow the smoke to find the mine."

They waited until evening before seeing any smoke.

Wang Cong looked at the smoke and said: "This is cooking smoke. Looks like this mine's output isn't great—there's no smoke from silver refining."

Indeed, there was no smoke from silver refining, because the ore wasn't refined in the mountains at all.

Pu Min said: "Because of rampant illegal mining and last year's miner uprisings, the imperial court no longer refines silver near the mines—it transports the ore elsewhere."

Pan Yun and Wang Cong saw the narrow path crushed into the earth and sighed: "Hard work."

At least fix the road.

Pu Min looked at them and asked calmly: "You've gone through great hardship to sneak into Shenshan—what is your purpose?"

Pu Min had just left the mining area, received his evening meal, and, in low spirits, sought a solitary spot to eat alone and process his thoughts. He hadn't expected that the moment he sat down on a rock, Pan Yun and Wang Cong appeared right before him, as if materialized from water.

Pu Min immediately crushed the gray, sturdy steamed bun in his hand into two halves.

All miners at this site were convicts; to prevent escape, thorny bushes surrounded the site and guards patrolled it—how had they gotten in?

A thought flashed through Pu Min's mind, then he calmed—what did it matter? They were as at home on the open sea as fish in water; what was there to fear in the mountains?

Pu Min clenched the bun in his hand and said stiffly: "You should leave. I won't say anything."

"Say what? That you took the blame for Pu Si?" Pan Yun said. "We're not asking about that."

Pu Min frowned. Aside from that, what value did he have?

Pan Yun said: "Do you know Pu Si is now working for the imperial family?"

Pu Min fell silent. He didn't know, and he didn't care.

Pan Yun studied his expression and smiled faintly: "Do you know Wu Madam's condition has worsened, and Pu Yue's hasn't improved?"

Pu Min's eyes widened instantly: "What did you say?"

Wang Cong handed him the prescription written down by Miao He: "This is the revised prescription Wu Madam used—do you remember it?"

Pu Min reached out and took it. He had personally fetched all the medicine for his household—he remembered it well.

He clenched the prescription and asked: "What's wrong with this prescription?"

Wang Cong: "Wu Madam's body is weak. The original prescription couldn't cure her, but it maintained her condition and provided gentle nourishment, albeit slowly. The revised one over-nourishes her—just like managing a river, blocking is worse than diverting. This prescription seals off the illness without killing it—and over time…"

Pu Min's face grew darker. Wang Cong lowered her voice: "She's still taking this prescription. Her body is already at its limit. If you don't redirect the flow, she won't last long."

Pu Min lifted his head and stared at them. After a long silence, his voice cracked: "What do you want from me?"

Pan Yun: "I want you to serve me."

Pu Min: "I'm a banished convict. What can I do for you? Even if I recanted my testimony, there'd be no evidence. You can't bring down Pu Si—you said yourself he works for the imperial family."

Pan Yun: "I don't need you to bring down Pu Si. I only need you to restrain him—to make the Pu clan do what it should."

Pu Min couldn't help laughing aloud, holding up his hands to her: "Me? Restrain Pu Si? I'm a convict—I can't even leave this mountain!"

Pan Yun: "I'll get you out."

Pu Min's face changed: "If I escape prison, my family will suffer. My mother and sister can't endure more hardship."

Pan Yun: "I'll get you out openly."

Pu Min froze.

Wang Cong said: "My junior uncle is now the State Preceptor."

Pu Min stared at her blankly: "State Preceptor?"

Pan Yun's eyes narrowed: "Do you know the new emperor has ascended?"

Pu Min's eyes were clouded—he knew nothing.

Pan Yun scanned the mountain and understood: these were all convict laborers. If the guards didn't tell them, they received no outside news.

Pu Min quickly realized. His heart pounded. "The Emperor—how could the Emperor… he was so young—who is the new emperor?"

"The former emperor led a campaign against the Wala and died on the battlefield. The new emperor is Prince Cheng," Pan Yun said. "Pu Si pledged loyalty to the former emperor. Now that the former emperor is dead, though he still serves the imperial family, his hands are not clean and his private schemes are too numerous."

Pu Min's mind raced, his eyes gleaming.

He wasn't a fool.

The Pu family were all masters of management. Pu Min had only sought a stable job to care for his mother and sister, so he used connections to join the local garrison and deliberately transferred to guard the city gate.

Though guarding the gate was humble and low-status, its hours were fixed. Beyond the bureaucracy, he could easily wield authority under borrowed power.

He merely used this position to protect his family's interests.

And guarding the gate gave him plenty of information. By observing daily arrivals and departures, he turned his family's several plots of land and a general store into thriving enterprises, supporting a large household.

Only when his mother's and sister's medicine costs rose too high did he quit guarding the gate and return to the Pu household to run errands for Pu Si.

So he was clever.

Pan Yun had said no more than this—he understood.

It wasn't that he would obey Pan Yun after leaving—it was that he would obey the new emperor.

The two were different: the former might be treason, but the latter was loyalty to the throne.

Without hesitation, Pu Min knelt: "Your humble subject is willing to lay down his life for Your Majesty."

Wang Cong frowned, muttering: "It was my junior uncle who saved you…"

Pan Yun stopped Wang Cong and said to Pu Min: "Just remember that vow."

Pu Min quickly added: "I am willing to lay down my life for the State Preceptor."

"I don't need you to die for me," Pan Yun said, glancing at the sky. "I only need you to grow stronger and keep watch on Pu Si. Time is running short—we're leaving now. Keep this secret. You won't be able to leave for at least two months."

Pu Min fretted: "Master Pan, my mother…"

"I'll have Miao He and Tao Yanbai treat her. They can save her life."

Pu Min let out a breath, but his heart still hovered uneasily.

After Pan Yun left, he remained anxious.

Especially at night, when the miners were utterly exhausted and dropped straight to sleep, their snoring rising and falling, Pu Min's anxiety swelled endlessly—he resented Pu Si for promising to care for his mother and sister, yet failing to do so.

He didn't even blame him for making him take the blame; he only asked that he treat his mother and sister well after he was locked up.

Yet he had even given his mother the wrong prescription.

Pu Min's heart burned with anguish; he couldn't stop tossing and turning.

Pan Yun and Wang Cong returned to Quanzhou.

Two days later was the day the Imperial Astronomical Bureau had calculated the great wind would make landfall; last night, everything hanging on the streets had been taken down and brought indoors, and anything that couldn't be moved had been tied down with ropes.

The streets were empty; everyone hid at home, waiting.

In the morning, the sky was overcast, but there was no wind.

At noon, the dense clouds parted, and sunlight appeared—no wind.

In the afternoon, people couldn't resist stepping outside, peering up at the sky; sunlight filtered through white clouds, spilling gold across the sea.

People shook their heads: "Did the Imperial Astronomical Bureau miscalculate? Today doesn't look like a day for a great wind at all?"

"Maybe they really got it wrong—how could mortals predict the affairs of immortals?"

"Exactly—if they could predict it, would they still be immortals?"

Everyone shook their heads and sighed; some went out to pick vegetables, others visited neighbors to chat.

At dusk, sunlight was suddenly blocked; the entire sky darkened. The welcome banners rehung on doors unfurled with a crackling sound, then trees swayed, leaves rustling with a whooshing noise.

Those who had been squatting by the door, complaining about the Imperial Astronomical Bureau and planning to go to the government office tomorrow for an explanation and compensation, exchanged glances, leapt to their feet, retracted the banners, and slammed the doors shut with a loud bang.

At the second hour of You on the twenty-eighth day of the sixth month of JingTai's first year, the great wind made landfall. The wind began as a light breeze, blowing for less than half an hour before suddenly surging—wind whipped water from the sky, drenching the ground, sweeping across trees, pounding rooftops…

The sky instantly darkened; by the exact hour of You, it was pitch black.

Prefect Lu stood inside his door, pacing anxiously: "It came at night—how long will this wind last?"

The advisor said: "The State Master said the great wind arrives swiftly and departs swiftly, but if the wind mass is large, it may bring days of heavy rain and sustained gales. No one can leave tonight to rescue; tomorrow depends on conditions."

"Stop talking—close the door now! If my room floods, I'll sweep you out to join the wind!"

The Prefect's Lady shouted from afar; Prefect Lu silently joined the advisor to shove the door shut with all their strength. In the darkness, the two stared at each other, speechless.

Soon, the sound of trees being uprooted echoed through the air; window frames rattled in the gale, tiles were lifted and smashed to the ground; distant cries and screams rose up.

Prefect Lu was deeply worried, yet powerless—should he step outside now, the wind would sweep him away.

He could do nothing, yet he remained anxious, pacing restlessly inside the room.

Cao Jixiang, living in the back courtyard of the Maritime Trade Office, peered through a window crack and saw the rain curtain swirling outside, the catalpa tree in the courtyard with broken branches; his heart ached too.

"Natural disasters cannot be resisted by human strength."

Pan Yun stood at the gate of the villa, watching the rain and wind.

She stood at the threshold, yet the wind and rain struck only before her, never touching her body.

Wang Cong and the four others turned chairs around, sat in a row on the veranda behind her, propping their backs to watch her.

Seeing Miao Zhen marveled: "Little Master Shu is so powerful—when will I ever be as strong as Little Master Shu?"

Tao Yan Bai counted on his fingers and said: "If you practice diligently, at least ten years."

Seeing Miao Zhen: "I only see the Yuan Li pouring out—Little Master Shu is so wasteful, using Yuan Li like this."

Wang Cong hesitated, then said: "Perhaps it's to observe the great wind, to gather data?"

Seeing Miao Zhen pointed to objects hanging beneath trees and eaves: "To measure wind speed, just watch them."

Pan Yun turned and said: "The wind direction has shifted—it deviates from our celestial observations. It will veer south, toward Tingzhou Prefecture; Ganzhou Prefecture will also be affected."

The four sat upright and asked: "What do we do? Have the two prefectures made preparations?"

Pan Yun lowered her eyes: "With this wind strength, even I cannot fly. Besides, it's too late now. I only wonder whether the prefects of the two prefectures had foresight and prepared in advance."

In fact, the prefects of Tingzhou and Ganzhou proved somewhat capable.

Upon learning the Imperial Astronomical Bureau predicted the great wind would make landfall in Quanzhou Prefecture, then turn north toward Jianning Prefecture and affect Yanping Prefecture, the prefect of Tingzhou, near Yanping, immediately acted, ordering all counties and villages to prepare.

The prefect of Ganzhou, farther south, seeing this, sent men to inquire about Quanzhou's lockdown time and followed suit with preparations.

So at dawn, when the howling wind outside grew louder and louder, both prefects immediately threw off their quilts and rose, opening their windows only to be slapped in the face by wind-driven rain.

They barely shut the windows, both relieved—thankfully, they had ordered the people to prepare in advance.

Though preparations had been made, areas struck by the typhoon still suffered severe damage.

Some dilapidated houses collapsed instantly; countless thatched roofs were ripped off; torrential rain poured down; streets were flooded everywhere.

At this time, the rice in the fields was at its peak of ripening; the wind swept through, toppling countless stalks, submerging them in mud and water.

After the wind passed, the rain and wind weakened. Lu Mingzhe, clad in a straw raincoat, walked beside the fields, gazing at the flooded farmland, heart aching: "My grain…!"

The farmers cried louder than he did—but they didn't just stand and weep; they wailed loudly while rushing to the Tian Geng with hoes, draining the water, and quickly lifting and tying up the fallen rice stalks, lest the grains sprout.

The village head stood beside Lu Mingzhe and said: "Conditions are far better than last time the great wind came. Villagers prepared in advance, cleared the ditches, raised the Tian Geng—once we open the Tian Geng to drain water, cleanup is more than three times faster than last time."

Ganzhou, Tingzhou, and Yanping all suffered damage to varying degrees.

After the wind weakened, Pan Yun flew through the rain, surveying the disaster zones; once she had a clear picture, she left Wang Cong and the others to rescue efforts and flew straight back to Jingcheng.

Jingcheng had not yet heard of the great wind's landfall in Quanzhou; Pan Yun's news stunned the entire court.

Under the Emperor's direction, the Ministry of Revenue began organizing relief grain; after calculations, twenty thousand taels of silver would be sent south from the imperial treasury: eight thousand taels to Quanzhou Prefecture, the hardest hit, and four thousand taels each to the other three prefectures, while relief grain was simultaneously dispatched from Changsha and Nanjing.

Pan Yun said: "There is still one month until harvest; for the people, the most urgent matter is this year's tax burden."

Pan Yun said: "Your Majesty, please exempt the disaster-stricken regions from taxes and grant a general amnesty, to pray for the prosperity of Great Ming."