Chapter 186: Sea Transport

Zhu Biao fell silent for a moment.

"Second brother, tell me, this disaster—was it truly just a disaster?" Zhu Biao continued in a low voice.

Zhu Yong gave no answer.

"Juruong is so close to Yingtian, yet the drought is this severe—ground cracked, wells dried up, and the memoranda previously reported said nothing about it," Zhu Biao said.

"Zhenjiang Prefecture, Changzhou Prefecture, Yangzhou Prefecture… all those prefectures along the river—this drought didn't develop in one or two days. What about the earlier stage? What were the local officials doing?"

His voice was not loud, but each word was like iron tempered in fire.

"Is it that they don't know, or that they know and suppress the report?"

Zhu Yong looked at him.

"Big brother wants to investigate?"

Zhu Biao did not answer immediately.

He picked up a memorandum on the desk, opened it, and pushed it in front of Zhu Yong.

This was the memorandum from the magistrate of Juruong.

The handwriting was neat, the wording humble, the whole page filled with anxiety.

"I, the minister, deserve ten thousand deaths."

Zhu Biao pointed this sentence out to Zhu Yong.

"He indeed deserves death, not because a disaster struck his jurisdiction, but because he concealed the report. Before the 15th day of the eighth month, Juruong had gone a month without rain, yet on the 14th day of the eighth month he still wrote in a memorandum, 'Since the beginning of autumn, rainfall has been even.'"

Zhu Biao said calmly.

"Who did he deceive? Deceived Imperial Father, deceived me, or deceived himself?"

Zhu Yong said nothing.

"And Zhenjiang as well."

Zhu Biao continued: "The Tongzhi of Zhenjiang Prefecture is a disciple of Lu Ben. Though the Lu Family fell, the disciple's former officials are still here. What are they afraid of? Fear that reporting the disaster too diligently will be scrutinized, that old accounts will be reopened?"

"Or fear being implicated, unable even to keep the black silk hat on their heads?"

He paused, then in a soft voice said, "Second brother, tell me, should these people be killed?"

Zhu Yong looked at him.

Big brother's gaze was very calm, as calm as a bottomless pool.

He suddenly recalled those fragments from his past-life memories.

The Kongyin case.

The Guo Huan case.

The Hu Weiyong case.

In each case, blood flowed like a river.

And the young man standing beside Zhu Yuanzhang, dressed in the Crown Prince's everyday robes, with a gentle face and a modest tone, the Crown Prince himself, was the person in charge of those cases.

"Should be killed," Zhu Yong said.

Zhu Biao looked at him.

"But big brother, now is not the time to kill," Zhu Yong said.

"Hmm?"

"At present, disaster relief is the top priority. If relief fails, the people will starve, drown, be sold as children or women. When relief succeeds, the disaster victims are properly settled, the dikes are rebuilt, the autumn sowing is completed…"

"When that time comes, big brother, whoever you wish to kill, I'll help you capture," Zhu Yong said.

He looked at Zhu Biao, earnestly saying, "If we kill now, the court and the provinces will be shaken, local officials will live in fear, they won't dare report disasters, and no one will rescue those in need.

At that time, the dead won't be a few dozen corrupt officials, but tens of thousands of common people."

Zhu Biao listened quietly.

After listening, he remained silent for a long while.

Then he smiled.

In that smile there was satisfaction, and a complexity that Zhu Yong could not comprehend.

"Second brother," Zhu Biao said softly.

"Hmm."

"You have truly grown up these past years."

Zhu Yong scratched his head and said, "I've always been this big."

Zhu Biao ignored him and continued, "When big brother was thirteen, he studied at Wenhua Hall under his master, reading the *Zhenguan Political Essentials* and the *Comprehensive Mirror to Aid in Government*.

He read about Emperor Taizong killing Jiancheng and Yuanji, and about Empress Wu executing ministers; big brother thought to himself... well done, those who block the way should be killed."

He paused, then continued, "Later Imperial Father taught big brother governance; the first time he saw the Ministry of Justice's list of death row prisoners—thirty‑two names—big brother checked them all off, too lazy to even double‑check.

Imperial Father tossed the list back, saying, 'Biao, you kill too hastily, not treating lives as matters; this will cause great trouble in the future.'"

"Big brother didn't understand then; killing was for those who needed to be killed, no fault?"

He let out a soft sigh.

"Now I understand: killing is not the goal, salvation is. Killing is to save more people, not to kill for killing's sake."

He looked at Zhu Yong, his gaze gentle.

"Second brother, your few words are more useful than big brother reading for ten years."

Zhu Yong, flattered, felt a bit embarrassed and said naively, "I was just daydreaming."

"Daydreaming—your daydreaming surpasses what the ministers in court have thought all their lives," Zhu Biao shook his head and replied.

He did not continue the topic, picking up another memorandum.

"This is the Ministry of Revenue's drafted disaster‑relief regulations; help big brother review them for any omissions."

Zhu Yong took it, lowered his head, and looked.

He read very slowly, line by line.

The Ministry of Revenue's regulations are written in great detail: where how much grain is allocated, where how much silver is allocated, who transports it, when it departs, how handover is handled after arrival, how supervision is done, and how post‑event verification is performed…

A dense mass of several thousand characters.

Zhu Yong finished reading and set it down.

"Brother, I have an idea," he said.

"Speak."

"The court's grain is always transferred from grain‑producing regions to disaster zones; the disaster zones lack grain, the producing regions have grain, so this is correct," Zhu Yong said.

"But the problem now is that there are too many disaster zones. Several prefectures along the river have been hit, and even the undamaged grain‑producing regions must still supply the Capital City, the border passes, and garrisons everywhere.

The Ministry of Revenue's granary, I heard from father today, has always been insufficient."

Zhu Biao nodded, "That's the reasoning. So we must find a way from elsewhere."

"I'm wondering whether we can avoid drawing from the grain‑producing regions," Zhu Yong said.

Zhu Biao looked up at him.

"The producing regions have grain, but that grain is the people's food, next year's seed, what their families will eat after taxes are paid.

When the court requisitions grain, it is nominally a purchase, but the price paid is below market, and with transport loss, the grain that reaches the people of the producing regions is far from sufficient."

Zhu Yong said.

"This year the producing regions were not hit, and the court requisitioned thirty percent; the common folk can barely stretch their belts to send it away. What about next year? The year after? What if the producing regions are hit next year as well?"

Zhu Biao fell silent.

Zhu Yong continued, "I heard Wang Baobao say that over in the South Sea, some places have three harvests a year, with more food than they can eat. Annam, Champa, Siam—those countries' rice is even cheaper than Great Ming's rice."

"Second brother's meaning is…" Zhu Biao's eyes gradually brightened.

"Sea transport," Zhu Yong said.

"Set sail from Yingtian, go to the South Sea, buy their rice, bring it back for disaster relief. South Sea rice is cheap; even with freight, it is more cost‑effective than forcibly requisitioning from the producing regions."

"And it does not harm the common people nor deplete manpower."

Zhu Biao did not speak immediately.

He was thinking.

He considered the cost difference between Canal Transport and sea transport, the number and capacity of the court's existing sea vessels, the relations between the South Sea nations and Great Ming, and the risks and returns of this route…

After a while, he spoke.

"We lack enough sea ships," Zhu Biao said.

"Most of the court's current sea ships are stationed in Wa Country and Goryeo."

"Then we build them. Though they won't be used for this relief, they'll be needed eventually," Zhu Yong said.

Zhu Biao looked at him.

"I recall the Ministry of Works shipyard last year trial‑produced a batch of new vessels using the dragon‑bone hull structure I provided; the hull is wider, the draft deeper, and they can resist wind and waves," Zhu Yong said.

"I asked the Vice Minister of Works; he said those ships are still in trial voyages and not yet finalized. But I've seen the Blueprint; they can make it to the South Sea."

Zhu Biao thought for a moment.

"The Ministry of Works shipyard falls under the Water Department of the Ministry of Works, whose Assistant Officer was transferred just last year; that person…"

He paused, as if recalling something.

"What was that person's name again?"

"His surname is Zhou. Zhou Jing and I have dealt with him a few times; he's quite honest, just timid, and stutters when he speaks," Zhu Yong said with a smile.

Zhu Biao smiled briefly.

"Stuttering's no problem; honesty is what matters. Bring him in tomorrow; brother will ask him personally,"

"Hmm."

Outside the window, the setting sun had already slipped westward.

Zhu Huanhuan, having woken at an unknown time, perched on the edge of the soft couch, rubbing her eyes, and in a baby‑like voice called, "Father… Uncle…"

Zhu Yong walked over and lifted his daughter into his arms.

Zhu Huanhuan leaned on his shoulder, her small hand clutching his collar, and fell asleep again.

Zhu Biao watched the scene, his gaze soft.

"Second brother," he said softly.

"Hmm."

"Tell me, will Xiong Ying and Huan Huan's generation live better than ours?"

Zhu Yong thought for a moment.

"Yes," he said.

"Why?"

"Because brother has paved the road."

Zhu Yong said, "The Cabinet, sea transport, shipbuilding, disaster relief… brother's current actions are all to ensure that in the future we won't be as flustered as now when a natural disaster strikes."

He paused, then said earnestly, "I won't use flowery language; I just know brother is amassing a foundation for Xiong Ying and the others."

Zhu Biao looked at him, saying nothing.

After a long while, he said softly, "Second brother, brother has also amassed for you."

Zhu Yong was startled.

"As Great Ming grows, second brother may wish to go to the South Sea, to the Western Ocean, to those places on the map whose names brother can't even pronounce," Zhu Biao said.

"Brother can't stop you, nor does he wish to. He can only keep the rear secure, straighten the court, and raise your daughter."

When the day comes that you've had enough of fighting and want to go home, at least there'll still be a place you can return to.

He smiled faintly and said softly, "This is the best thing elder brother can give you."

Zhu Yong said nothing.

He held the young lady, stood there, and stared at his elder brother.

The dusk outside the window deepened gradually.

The lights of Wenhua Hall lit up one by one.