Chapter 57: Outside Changsha City, Jinjiang River

Li Mingda stood at the breach, watching the gradually calming water surface, his tense nerves finally relaxing a bit. After a whole day of hard work, the breach had finally been successfully blocked. The temporary dam, built with wooden stakes and earth bags, though crude, had played a key role at this moment, temporarily stopping the flood’s impact.

He carefully observed the condition of the dam. The cedar stakes, as thick as a bowl, were deeply wedged into the breach, and the iron chain winch was pulled tight, its veins-like lines showing. Twenty laborers were reinforcing the earth foundation with stone hammers, pounding the ground in a deep, thunderous rhythm.

Li Mingda walked over and gently prodded the soft earth layer with the sheath of his sword, noticing that the foundation was still not firm enough. He frowned and turned to shout, “Add three more layers of bamboo strips to the eastern side of the breach, make sure it’s stable.”

Then, he turned to give another instruction to Wang Bandou, “Take people to clear the floating corpses upstream, and then scatter three carts of lime to prevent the spread of disease.”

Wang Bandou nodded and quickly organized the workers. The laborers moved swiftly, continuing to reinforce the dam, their pounding like distant thunder, mixing with the sounds of the flowing water in the distance.

At that moment, a constable hurried over, holding a register, his voice choked with emotion: “Sir, at the 17-li embankment, 470 acres of early rice were flooded, 23 houses in the Zhao family compound collapsed, and 97 people have lost their lives. The situation in other villages is still unclear, and the missing and injured are countless.”

Li Mingda closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to keep his voice calm, “Send the casualty lists from each village to the county office quickly and compile the situation.”

Next, he still had to organize people to clear the river channels, repair farmland, and help the disaster-stricken people rebuild their homes. Logically, he should quickly open the grain warehouse to relieve the people and settle those displaced by the disaster.

But the granaries of Shanhu County were mostly empty.

Though Huguang was known as the granary of the world, after years of continuous warfare and frequent grain requisitions by the imperial court, the local granaries had long been stretched thin. Year after year of good harvests followed by poor ones, the surplus after tax was barely enough, but with such a large disaster this year, there was no food to distribute.

“Sir, the matter of opening the granary to distribute grain is truly difficult,” Wang Bandou murmured, “For now, we can only transport some grain from neighboring counties to stabilize the people’s hearts. As for the subsequent reconstruction, it will need to be coordinated by the governor.”

Li Mingda nodded, his heart heavy with worry. He sighed and said, “Report these conditions to Governor Lei truthfully. This post-disaster reconstruction cannot be handled by just one county; we need the governor’s coordination.”

As the sun set like blood, Li Mingda entered the Changsha Prefecture Office. This was the central hub of Changsha Prefecture, where a large plaque hung high under the tall eaves, with the words “Changsha Prefecture” inscribed on it.

However, when he stepped over the threshold, a strange sensation touched his foot. Looking down, he saw half of a swollen, bloated corpse’s hand. It was the corpse of a vagrant who had frozen to death at the door of the office last night. The servants had been too busy with other matters and had not had time to clean it up.

Inside the hall, Changsha’s Prefect, Lei Qilong, sat behind the desk, playing with an ivory abacus. The desk, made of golden silk nanmu, was piled high with documents—reports from various counties about the disaster, filled with the suffering of the people. In the corner of the desk lay a memorial from three days ago, urging the payment of military funds for suppressing the rebellion. The paper was thin but seemed as heavy as a thousand pounds.

Other officials had already gathered in the hall. Shanhu County’s grain officer He Zhongxian, Changsha Prefecture’s grain reserve official Xia Xianyun, Changsha Prefecture’s construction officer Wang Jingzu, and medical officer Zhang Wenyuan were seated on either side, all with serious expressions, the atmosphere tense. They spoke in low voices, filled with anxiety and helplessness, but when they saw Li Mingda enter, they immediately quieted down.

Li Mingda hurried into the hall and saluted Governor Lei with cupped hands. “I apologize for my lateness, please forgive me.”

Governor Lei looked up, his gaze sweeping across the room. “Li Ming, I know you’ve been working hard with the urgent situation in Shanhu County. Please, sit down.”

Li Mingda thanked him and sat in his assigned seat.

Lei Qilong spoke up, “In Shanhu County, 76,000 acres of farmland have been flooded, more than 300 people drowned, and the people have been displaced, with their homes completely destroyed. The situation is heartbreaking.”

Every word he spoke was heavy, as if each sentence was a thousand pounds, making the air seem harder to breathe.

He paused slightly, his gaze like a cold arrow as he looked around at everyone. “Do you all know, this number is 30% more than the breach of the Ganjiang River in the 45th year of the Wanli reign?”

As soon as he finished speaking, the hall fell into a deathly silence, with only the occasional sound of the wind from outside the window. The officials exchanged glances, their faces ashen. The shocking numbers had struck them, and they were slow to recover.

Li Mingda stood still, his heart full of guilt and anxiety for the people. He knew the urgent task was to solve the food issue; otherwise, the people would be driven to the brink of desperation.

He was the first to break the silence, cupping his hands and saying, “Governor Lei, Shanhu County is facing the worst of the disaster. The people have no shelter from the wind and rain, and they urgently need grain and clothing. I am ready to open the granary to distribute food, but…”

He paused, his eyes flickering slightly, a touch of embarrassment on his face. His voice lowered, “The little grain we have in the county simply isn’t enough. I am truly ashamed. I hope the governor can allocate some from the prefecture’s granary to solve this urgent issue.”

Governor Lei furrowed his brow slightly. “Li Ming, the prefecture’s granary stores only about 8,000 shi of grain, and half of it was borrowed last year to cover the gap for Liaodong. Now, the prefecture’s granary is also stretched thin, making it hard to continue.”

He stood up and pulled open a nearby ebony box, revealing half-rotted rice grains. He casually tossed them, and they rolled onto the floor, filling the hall with the stench of decaying grain.

Governor Lei pointed to the rice, saying to He Zhongxian, “Zhongxian, this is the sample grain taken from the Changping warehouse yesterday. You may want to smell this spoiled grain.”

He Zhongxian took the rice, sniffed it, and immediately frowned, his face full of bitterness. “This… this grain is already rotten. How can it be fed to the people?”

Governor Lei sighed. “Exactly. Most of the grain in the prefecture’s granaries is in such a condition. If we are to resolve Shanhu County’s plight, we may need to find another solution.”

Li Mingda hurriedly said, “Governor Lei, the people can’t wait any longer! If we don’t relieve them in time, the dead will be scattered everywhere, and the people will have no hope!”

Governor Lei’s gaze shifted and landed on He Zhongxian. With a meaningful look, he said, “Zhongxian, as the grain officer, you are a person of high prestige. If you lead by example and donate grain, the other local gentry will surely follow suit. In this way, wouldn’t Shanhu County’s disaster be easily resolved?”

He Zhongxian secretly groaned. The position of grain officer was considered a hot potato among the common people—everyone avoided it.

He knew very well that in this disaster relief discussion, all the other officials were of higher rank, except for him, who had no official title. The grain officer was supposed to assist the government in collecting taxes and managing granaries, but in reality, it was a position that forced the local gentry to fund the government from their own pockets.

Despite his reluctance, He Zhongxian forced a difficult smile and said, “Governor Lei, it’s not that I am avoiding this. It’s just that the position of grain officer is truly difficult. Nowadays, who among the local gentry is still willing to donate grain? Even if someone is willing, they are powerless.”

Governor Lei’s face darkened, and his gaze became as sharp as a knife. “I ask you, the disaster is urgent, and the people are crying out for food. Why do you refuse to donate grain for relief? Do you have no concern for the people, only for your own granary?”

He Zhongxian immediately broke out in a cold sweat, and his back began to feel cold. He swallowed and spoke with a slight tremble, cupping his hands, “Your Excellency, please understand, it’s not that I don’t want to help the people… It’s just… there are difficulties I cannot speak of!”

He paused, seemingly debating whether to continue. Finally, he steeled himself and said, “Originally, there was some surplus grain at home, but a few days ago… Doctor Wei came to me and said she needed grain to stockpile medicinal herbs for the medical clinic. I couldn’t refuse her, so I had to sell the surplus grain to her…”

“Doctor Wei?” Xia Xianyun, the grain storage official, suddenly interjected, frowning and sounding somewhat puzzled. “Are you referring to the Doctor Wei who promoted sweet potato cultivation on the outskirts of the city and set up several planting sites with considerable success?”

He Zhongxian nodded quickly, “Yes, that’s her. Doctor Wei has a high reputation among the common people, and I couldn’t neglect her.”

Hearing this, Lei Qilong’s frown deepened, and his fingers lightly tapped the desk as he seemed to be thinking.

He Zhongxian, feeling more uneasy, whispered, “Governor, Doctor Wei is very astute.” He paused slightly, his eyes showing a hint of worry, and recalled, “She once found discrepancies between the accounts and the actual deliveries. Although she didn’t say it directly, I know she already noticed. She wants to pay at the rate of one shi eight dou.”

He cautiously glanced at Governor Lei, and seeing that the governor hadn’t interrupted, he continued, “I also hinted to her that the actual quantity would be more than what was recorded…” He shook his head, a helpless smile on his face. “This matter has been weighing on my mind.”

Xia Xianyun sneered suddenly, with a tone laced with sarcasm. “He Zhongxian, your words remind me of something. Last year, during the land surveying, the 300 acres at Wangjia Village were recorded as 100 acres of sandy land—does anyone know why?”

He spoke, unrolling a document in his hand, revealing densely packed red circles covering the words “虚报” (false reporting), which was a shocking sight.

He Zhongxian straightened his back slightly, his voice calm. “Gentlemen, I am sure you all have heard this nursery rhyme—’Chongzhen, Chongzhen, after collecting the military taxes, it’s time to levy the training tax.'”

He paused for a moment, scanning everyone’s faces as if watching for their reactions. Then, with a deep sigh and a tone of helplessness, he added, “Even the children who have just learned to read know that writing ‘Chongzhen’ as ‘Zhongzheng’ is clearly a satire on the excessive taxes imposed by the government.”

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