Chapter 185: Heaven's Will Like a Knife

In the eighth year of Hongwu, the third day of the ninth month.

Since autumn began, Yingtian Prefecture has not had a single decent rain.

In the courtyard of Qianqing Palace, the leaves of several old locust trees curled at the edges, drooping limp, and the wilted foliage fell to the ground; stepping on them produced no crisp crack but a soft, sagging sound, like rotten cloth.

Zhu Yuanzhang stood by the window, watching the eunuch sprinkling water in the courtyard.

The water splashed down, raising a veil of white steam that vanished in an instant.

"The drought has become like this," he said in a deep voice.

No one dared to reply.

On the imperial desk behind him lay a stack of urgent reports that had just been delivered this morning.

Juru County: severe drought, plus earthquake.

More than three hundred houses collapsed, crushing twenty‑seven civilians to death, countless others injured, fields cracked, and wells ran dry.

The counties under Yingtian Prefecture, only a few dozen li from the Capital City, reported the disaster; the Prefect wrote in his Memorandum: "I deserve ten thousand deaths for my crimes."

Zhu Yuanzhang remained silent, then made a red mark and wrote: "As long as people live, that's enough; disaster relief is urgent, why worry about death?"

When he scolded, he was actually in pain.

This was only the first dispatch.

The second, the third, the fourth.

Changzhou Prefecture, Zhenjiang Prefecture, Yangzhou Prefecture… many riverside regions reported drought, rice withered, and the autumn harvest was hopeless.

The fifth, Wenzhou Prefecture.

When Zhu Yuanzhang received this urgent report, his hand paused.

"In the autumn of the eighth year of Hongwu, on the seventeenth day of the eighth month, Wenzhou Prefecture was struck by a massive tsunami, the tide rose three zhang, coastal areas such as Pingyang, Yongjia, Yueqing, and Ruian were flooded, over two thousand soldiers and civilians perished, countless houses were washed away, and the coastal salt fields were completely lost…"

He read halfway and then stopped.

He handed the Memorandum to Zhu Biao beside him.

Zhu Biao took it, read it from start to finish, missing no character.

After reading, he set the Memorandum down and said softly: "Your son drafts the edict, ordering the Ministry of Revenue to immediately allocate one hundred thousand taels of silver and fifty thousand shi of grain, the Ministry of Works to dispatch one official, who will board a ship to Wenzhou, cooperate with local officials to aid the disaster victims and repair the dikes."

"Draft it!" Zhu Yuanzhang said.

Zhu Biao moved to the side of the desk and lifted his brush.

The ink was ground thick, and his strokes were steady; each character and phrase was clear and distinct.

Having drafted it, he presented it.

Zhu Yuanzhang read it, nodded, and said: "Add another clause: the Prefect of Wenzhou who proves effective in disaster relief shall have his name recorded by the Ministry of Personnel after the task, and be given priority for promotion.

Those who perform poorly shall be dismissed on the spot and never reinstated."

"Understood."

Zhu Biao lifted his brush to add it.

After the father and son finished the Wenzhou matter, the hall fell quiet again.

Outside the window, the eunuch who was sprinkling water had moved elsewhere; the courtyard, now bathed in sunlight, showed the blue bricks turning pale.

"Drought, earthquake, tsunami—within half a month, three disasters arrived together," Zhu Yuanzhang said slowly.

He did not utter the second half.

But everyone in the hall could tell.

It was Heaven warning them.

Throughout the ages, natural calamities have been omens of human disaster.

Especially for a newly founded dynasty with an unstable foundation, this is the most feared.

"Father," Zhu Yong said.

Zhu Yuanzhang turned his head to look at him.

Zhu Yong stood at the side of the hall, still holding Zhu Huanhuan in his arms.

The little girl this morning insisted on following her father into the palace, saying she missed the emperor, and Zhu Yong could not refuse, so he carried her in.

"Yong Er, what do you have to say…" Zhu Yuanzhang asked.

"I don't understand those celestial warnings, but I know that when a disaster comes, the court must provide money and grain, send people, get the job done; if it's done, the people see the court cares for them and all is well.

If it's not handled, the people have no way to live, and that is the true warning," Zhu Yong said naively.

Zhu Yuanzhang looked at him.

"Who taught you that?"

"No one taught me; I thought of it myself," Zhu Yong replied.

Zhu Yuanzhang was silent for a moment, then suddenly smiled.

"The two of us, one can draft edicts, the other can reason; this life is enough for us."

He took Zhu Huanhuan from Zhu Yong's arms and cradled her on his lap.

"Huan Huan, did your father speak correctly?"

Zhu Huanhuan blinked, her voice infantile, and said: "Right!"

Zhu Yuanzhang smiled and pinched her little cheek.

After laughing, he set the granddaughter down and picked up another Memorandum.

It was from the Ministry of Revenue.

"The Ministry of Revenue reports that this autumn's grain harvest reduction is now certain; several riverside prefectures are suffering severe drought, projected to cut production by more than thirty percent compared with last year; the Wenzhou tsunami destroyed all coastal salt fields, and next year's Salt Tax will be reduced by a large amount." Zhu Yuanzhang said.

Zhu Yuanzhang said.

He set the Memorandum down and leaned back in his chair.

When a natural disaster strikes, everywhere demands money and grain; we can tell with our eyes closed how much is in the Ministry of Revenue's treasury, and after years of war the treasury's silver has never been full.

Zhu Biao said, "Father, I have a suggestion."

"Speak…"

The batch of gold and silver that my second brother brought back from Northern Yuan was recorded by the Ministry of Revenue at two hundred thirty million taels upon entry; it was originally earmarked as a special fund for military expenses.

Now that the border trouble has settled, could this money perhaps be…?

Zhu Yuanzhang lifted his eyes to look at him.

Zhu Biao did not avoid his father's gaze and continued, "I know this money was earned by my second brother and the soldiers who fought to the death, and it is also the court's bottom‑line confidence.

But now a disaster has struck, the people are dying, and the court cannot stand by."

He paused, then said softly, "Money can be earned again, but if people's hearts are lost, they cannot be regained."

Zhu Yuanzhang said nothing.

The hall remained quiet for a long while.

"Yong Er," Zhu Yuanzhang said.

"Hmm."

"That was brought back by you; tell me, can this money be mobilized?"

Zhu Yong scratched his head and said, "Father, when I first brought the money back, it was for the court's use; it could be used for war, so why can't it be used for disaster relief?"

Moreover, the Wa Country's gold and silver mines are still continuously shipping gold and silver back! But using the gold and silver so recklessly—might there be…?

Zhu Yuanzhang was momentarily stunned.

Then he smiled.

"Good, good, Biao, draft an edict to allocate three million taels of silver from the special fund, to distribute for flood relief along the river and the Wenzhou tsunami; inform the Ministry of Revenue that we will personally supervise this money—anyone who dares to reach for it, we will cut off their claws." He said the word "good" twice, his voice a little hoarse.

As for the latter half of Zhu Yong's sentence, Zhu Yuanzhang simply filtered it out.

"Yes," Zhu Biao replied.

"Also, Western Huai is experiencing drought this year; we have reviewed the report from Fengyang Prefecture—though it's a bit better than Juxiang, the harvest has still decreased.

Have the Ministry of Revenue allocate a sum to Fengyang as well, so that the people of our hometown won't accuse us of forgetting our roots," Zhu Yuanzhang continued.

Zhu Biao nodded, lifted his brush and took note.

……

Zhu Yong then went to Kunning Palace to chat for a while with Empress Ma.

Upon leaving Kunning Palace, it was already past noon.

Zhu Huanhuan fell asleep perched on his shoulder, his little head bobbing, drool staining the shoulder epaulet of his python robe.

He carried the young lady and walked slowly along the palace corridor.

He did not return to Wu Wang Fu, but went to Wenhua Hall.

In the duty office of Wenhua Hall, five Hanlin scholars were bent over their desks, writing feverishly.

This was the embryonic form of the Cabinet.

From the night of the Mid‑Autumn Festival on the 15th day of the 8th month of the 8th year of Hongwu, Zhu Biao set the plan; today is the 3rd day of the 9th month, less than twenty days later.

But this small office has already begun to operate.

Zhu Yong did not enter the duty office, but went straight to the rear hall.

Zhu Biao indeed was still reviewing reports.

On the desk were three stacks: one of already approved documents, one awaiting approval, and one bearing draft Cabinet edicts.

"Elder brother," Zhu Yong placed the young lady on a soft couch in the side hall, covered her with a thin blanket, and then came over.

Zhu Biao looked up, saw it was him, set down his brush, and rubbed the bridge of his eyebrows.

"Father's side has decided…"

"It's decided: from the money I brought back, allocate three million taels for disaster relief," Zhu Yong sat down.

Zhu Biao nodded and said, "With this sum, the disaster‑relief shortfall can be largely covered; the remainder can be squeezed by the Ministry of Revenue and saved by the Ministry of Works, and we should be able to get through."

As he spoke, his brows remained furrowed.

"Elder brother, do you have any other concerns?" Zhu Yong asked.