Chapter 905: Has He Gone Mad?

In such surroundings, the adults were fine, but Zhao Feng and Zhao Long found everything wonderfully novel. After supper they didn't want to sleep at all, just ran and jumped wildly across the woolen rugs, laughing without stop.

"Husband, don't worry anymore. It shouldn't be anything major — just that one shake." Xu Zhenzhen consoled him.

When the earthquake struck, Xu Zhenzhen and Mu Shulan had been chatting idly. That tremor made them think it was an illusion too, but right away they grabbed the children and rushed into the courtyard.

Compared to Xu Zhenzhen and Mu Shulan's composure, the children still had no idea what had happened, while the household maids and serving women were panicking, weeping and wailing in chaos. Xu Zhenzhen only shielded the children, but Mu Shulan called over Meng Ziqi, who was still relatively calm, and took up bamboo strips to fiercely lash those who were crying out and losing control. A few strokes brought them back to order, and in the end no disaster came of the disorder.

Watching Zhao Jin's grave expression, Xu Zhenzhen smiled and said, "Husband, isn't Hejiazhuang here all right?"

"Xuzhou is my Xuzhou, and it's yours and Feng'er and Long'er's too — of course I have to worry about it." Zhao Jin smiled as he spoke. The first half of the night he stayed in the tent with his wife and children; the second half he would go to the personal guard unit to take command. At a moment like this, as the commanding general he could not leave the troops.

Mu Shulan leaned against Zhao Jin's other side, drowsy from the warmth of the bronze brazier, and murmured vaguely, "This servant has heard people from Shanxi say that Taiyuan once had a great earthquake, and the shaking was felt all around. Could it be that somewhere on the edge of Xuzhou shook?"

The night passed just like that, still quiet and uneventful, with no more earth tremors or quaking. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Had they not confirmed it with one another, many would have thought what they experienced the day before was an illusion.

The mounted household servants dispatched in every direction also began returning. Quite a few places had felt the shaking, but it was only that one jolt. After that moment of panic, there was no further movement. Some long-neglected houses showed cracks, a few collapsed, but most remained safe and sound.

Many people had slept outside last night. Hardly anyone dared to do anything bad in the chaos. Even in places where the Zhao Battalion had no eyes watching, everyone knew the terrible consequences of breaking the law, and no one dared stir. The few who did were seized at once and awaited severe punishment.

By noon on the eighth day of the second month, everyone was already back to their business. This was the busiest and most critical moment of the salt market — no time could be wasted. Making money was the most important thing.

Another day passed, and everything was as usual. Xuzhou and Pizhou both showed no abnormalities. Many places had felt the shaking, but on the Southern Metropolitan Region's side of things, that one jolt was all they felt. North of the Yellow River, however, the shaking had been somewhat stronger. Word was that in Shan County and Yutai within Shandong territory, quite a few houses had collapsed.

By the twelfth day of the second month, the tremor had already become a topic of idle chatter. Calculating the distance, news from Shandong had also reached Xuzhou.

On the sixth day of the second month, in the second year of the Tianqi reign, a great earthquake struck Jinan Prefecture, Dongchang Prefecture, and Yanzhou Prefecture in Shandong. In Yuncheng, the quake sounded like thunder, the ground split and springs gushed forth, chickens and dogs cried and barked, and walls and houses collapsed. In Juye, over half the city walls and battlements toppled. The temple halls and side chambers of the Confucian Temple were all ruined. In Licheng, the quake roared like thunder, houses swayed and the ground shook. Caozhou, Chengwu, Cao County, Puzhou, Chaocheng, Jinxiang, Yutai — all suffered great quakes with roaring sounds. The common people of Shandong suffered countless dead and wounded.

On the seventh day of the second month, in the second year of the Tianqi reign, Yuncheng County in Shandong's Yanzhou Prefecture was like hell on earth. Looking out, inside and outside the city there was not a single intact house, not a single intact section of city wall. Wailing could be heard everywhere. The great quake had come so suddenly that many people had no time to flee and were crushed to death in their homes.

Xu Hongru, hierarch of the Smelling Incense Sect, swept his gaze over the surrounding ruins. In this great disaster, the main altar of the Smelling Incense Sect's headquarters had not been spared either. He was now covered head to toe in filth and grime but could not be bothered to wash it off, just stood there in a daze.

Around him, a low chanting of scripture suddenly rose. Xu Hongru's body jolted. He looked down and saw that the steward who had followed him for many years had already breathed his last.

When the great earthquake struck, this steward had shielded Xu Hongru with his own body but was struck in the waist by a falling roof beam. His consciousness had been blurred from that moment, and he did not last ten double-hours.

Among the sect members chanting scripture around the steward, some could not contain the grief in their hearts. Tears streamed down, and their sobs broke the rhythm.

Suddenly, everyone heard someone laughing. At a time like this, to still dare laugh, to still be able to laugh — but then they all realized at once: it was the hierarch, Xu Hongru, laughing.

Xu Hongru laughed loudly, laughed until he doubled over, laughed with a mad intensity. The sect members gathered around all forgot their chanting and mourning, staring blankly at their hierarch.

Xie Mingxuan, standing to one side, sighed inwardly. He too was covered in filth but had been fortunate enough to escape. Seeing Xu Hongru in such a state, anyone would think the man could not bear it and had gone mad. In this city of Yuncheng, which was like hell on earth, such scenes were not rare. This great disaster had come far too suddenly, and the destruction was far too brutal.

"Do you know? Do you know? This is Heaven's will, Heaven's will!" Xu Hongru stopped laughing, then waved his arms as he spoke. Yet at this moment, he looked even more deranged.

The surviving sect members all rose numbly. Many subconsciously stepped back two paces. Xie Mingxuan exchanged glances with several of the hierarch's trusted confidants. They could not let Xu Hongru go on raving like this. If this continued, the sect members' morale would be utterly shattered. The great resurgence that the Smelling Incense Sect had so painstakingly built would collapse in an instant.

"When the dragon vein is severed, the earth shakes and the mountains quake. This means a change of dynasty is coming. This Great Ming court's fortune is cut off — our sect is about to flourish greatly!" Xu Hongru waved both hands, speaking with extreme agitation.

The crowd of sect members who had just stepped back in hesitation were all stunned. Xie Mingxuan and the core members also became fully attentive. When dynasties change, there are often various omens, and a great earthquake is one of them. News from days before said the court had suffered another major defeat in the Liao garrison. Could it truly be that the time of dynastic change had arrived?

"The capital is in the north, Nanjing in the south. This dragon vein links north and south, sustaining the court's fortune. This great quake has struck right at the middle of the dragon vein. Great Ming's allotted span is exhausted. This is an omen of great fortune for our sect — great fortune!"

Xie Mingxuan narrowed his eyes. He had already noticed that although Xu Hongru's movements were flamboyant and manic, his gaze was perfectly clear, and his words were extremely coherent.

In moments of such terror and despair, people are all the more prone to superstition. At first, the sect members thought Xu Hongru had gone mad, but after listening to a few sentences, expressions of fanaticism appeared on their faces. No one knew who led first, but they all knelt down around Xu Hongru and chanted in unison: "Maitreya descends to the world — true emptiness, ultimate bliss!"

"Such an auspicious omen of great joy should be made known to all devout sect members. Let them know the benefits of sincere worship. Let them know that the paradise homeland on earth is about to be realized, and then everyone shall enjoy its blessings!" Xu Hongru declared loudly.

More and more believers knelt around him. Many of the wounded also struggled to rise, prostrating themselves and chanting scripture. Xu Hongru raised both hands high and said solemnly, "All members of this sect must aid the suffering common people, proclaim our sect's true meaning, and let the suffering people know that this court's allotted span is exhausted, that this Great Ming is already finished!"

Xie Mingxuan no longer had any doubt. He knelt down with heartfelt conviction. What severed dragon vein? What exhausted allotted span? A great quake like this would surely bring chaos everywhere, would surely leave the people unable to survive. Seizing this opportunity, they could expand the ranks of believers and even rise in revolt. The hierarch had not gone mad at all — he had seized a perfect moment!

In the second month of the second year of the Tianqi reign, a great earthquake struck the three western prefectures of Shandong. Houses collapsed, roads were cut off, and relief aid could not get through. Because of the Liao tax levies, the localities had no reserves and simply could not produce grain to relieve the disaster victims. Meanwhile, the powerful households shut their gates in self-defense and absolutely refused to use their own stores for relief. Starving refugees and desperate mobs rose up everywhere, banding together to attack government offices and plunder the homes of the gentry and wealthy. And the members of the Smelling Incense Sect went out in all directions, doing everything they could to provide relief. For a time, everyone burned incense, everyone became a believer.

The region descended into utter chaos. Officials and gentry alike feared for their own safety. In such a situation, they too had to save themselves and maintain order in their localities. There were precedents for this, and everyone knew what to do: first, bring out grain from their own households to distribute as relief; then petition the government offices to open the official granaries; and finally, request that the court remit taxes and levies. This Liao tax had truly wounded Shandong to the bone. If only this Liao tax could be halted, everyone could catch their breath a little and things would not be so dire.

The grain the common people could produce was limited, and the official granaries were so empty the rats had starved to death. As for those who held vast stores of grain — the Prince of Lu's estate, for instance, or the Duke of Yansheng's mansion — they absolutely refused to give up a single grain. Everyone's only hope could only be that the court would remit Shandong's taxes. If they were remitted, the situation could certainly be eased.

The provincial seat of Jinan was not far from the capital; a fast horse could make the round trip in just a few days. The memorial requesting tax remission was quickly delivered to the capital, and just as quickly a reply came back: everything would continue as before. At present, the court was deploying troops on every front, and expenditures were enormous. The grand ministers at court were still thinking of ways to increase levies — how could remission possibly be granted?

When word came back, the Grand Coordinator and the Administration Vice Commissioner and the rest merely sighed a few times about the difficulties of state affairs. Below them, the prefects and county magistrates scrambled to keep things under control, but that was all — just scrambling. After all, they did not have to worry about their own food and clothing. But the clerks and runners in the yamens, along with all manner of unofficial underlings and hangers-on — although they too squeezed the common people, they also had countless ties to the locality. This earthquake and the Liao tax had not only wounded the common people; the local strongmen were also badly hurt. Everyone had been counting on the court remitting taxes so they could breathe easier. Now all hope was gone.

Originally, the rejection of the tax remission was to be kept strictly secret from top to bottom, but as soon as word came down, it was immediately leaked. Resentment among the people in Shandong boiled over even more fiercely. Before, when desperate mobs and starving refugees banded together to cause trouble, the local strongmen would still mobilize militia and village braves to resist. But now they simply ignored it, and some even fanned the flames from behind.

Compared to the Great Ming court and its officials, who turned a blind eye and deaf ear, the Smelling Incense Sect members, who had been running about busily all along, won great popular support. Compared to those who did nothing at all, those who could offer meager help and worked with zeal and dedication were indeed worthy of trust and devotion.

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