Chapter 53#
Speed Is the Essence of War.#
The grain troops dispatched for this relief mission were personally selected by Lord Jun Dingyuan. Every one of them was a veteran who had been through the crucible of the southern front, honing their skills amid flashing blades and clashing shadows. Without Shen Zhi and Wen Zhuo needing to waste a single word, they instinctively knew where to conserve supplies and where to guard them, reducing wastage along the route to the absolute minimum.
Shen Zhi was not stingy, either. Aware of the soldiers’ hardships, he provided generous wages for this disaster relief effort—more than enough for them to return home and celebrate a splendid New Year in style.
Everything was ready; they only awaited departure.
The next day, before dawn broke, the capital was shrouded in a deep blue morning mist, with the streets and alleys utterly silent. The officials in their ceremonial robes and armored officers had yet to crawl out of their warm blankets when Shen Zhi led the team out.
Hooves struck the official road, merely scattering the morning dew clinging to the wild grass.
By the time Prince Xian, Shen Chen, and the other officials learned of this, the relief convoy had already vanished from sight.
For this journey, every accompanying member was a top-tier elite.
Wen Zhuo brought Jiang Man’nü and Liu Qiying as stewards, plus ten capable hands selected by Emperor Shunyuan from the capital camps.
Shen Zhi took Supervisor Huang Ting, a disciple of the Mo school sent by Mo Shu, and a carefully chosen squad of guards from the Yongning Marquis Manor.
Liangzhou was not far from the capital, and the team moved swiftly. Setting out at dawn, by the time the sunset painted half the sky crimson, they had already arrived outside Liangzhou City.
Wen Zhuo raised the carriage curtain and, bathed in the afterglow of dusk, gazed ahead.
Though Liangzhou City was not as grand as the capital, it was still one of the leading prefectural cities in the north. Its gray-blue city walls stretched for miles, exuding a majestic air. At the city gate, the clamor of voices filled the air, with many traveling merchants hurrying to enter before the gates closed, forming a long queue.
He recalled that He Ruqing, the Prefect of Liangzhou, was a slippery eel. Having spent years navigating the treacherous waters of officialdom, this man harbored no grand ambitions. All he sought in life was to protect his official hat and spend his remaining years clutching gold and silver in comfort.
Fortunately, He was a master of social maneuvering, able to play dumb and survive even under Prince Xian’s coercive charms.
“How long has our messenger been here?” Wen Zhuo asked from within the carriage.
Huang Ting lifted a corner of the carriage window, looked at the setting sun, and calculated on his fingers: “About an hour now.”
Before their arrival, a messenger had ridden a fast horse, carrying the imperial decree, and bolted straight to the Liangzhou government office to announce their coming.
Shen Zhi leaned beside Wen Zhuo and asked casually, “Shouldn’t He Ruqing be out to welcome us by now? But is he also one of Prince Xian’s men?”
This trip originally had two carriages—one for Shen Zhi and one for Wen Zhuo.
But Shen Zhi insisted on dragging Wen Zhuo into the same carriage, claiming they needed to discuss major relief matters along the way.
Huang Ting dared not hog the prince’s carriage, so he insisted on sticking with Shen Zhi. After several refusals, Shen Zhi told him not to stand on ceremony and to enjoy it freely. But Huang Ting, moved to tears, vowed to stay by Shen Zhi’s side.
Shen Zhi was speechless.
Thus, Liu Qiying and Jiang Man’nü had no choice but to move to the other carriage.
Fortunately, both were women, so sharing a carriage was convenient, and no one raised any objection.
Therefore, Huang Ting could hear every word of the conversation between Wen Zhuo and Shen Zhi. When Shen Zhi asked, he quickly replied in detail: “He Ruqing belongs to no one. Prince Xian had previously tried to win him over through Shi Liangui, the Liangzhou regional commander, but at that time, the former Crown Prince was at his peak. He Ruqing is shrewd; with the situation unclear, why would he cut off his own retreat?”
“Gong Zhiyuan once considered pulling He Ruqing over to the former Crown Prince’s side, but after internal discussions, the Prince’s faction abandoned the idea. This man is born without loyalty, and he’ll never truly serve anyone. In the end, he’s nothing but a sycophant; he’ll lean toward whichever side wins.”
Shen Zhi, upon hearing this, seemed lost in thought: “So, is he a good official or a bad one?”
The carriage fell silent for a moment.
With Huang Ting present, Wen Zhuo restrained his usual casual demeanor in front of Shen Zhi, sitting upright and speaking slowly: “Your Highness, whether officials are worthy or wicked is a matter for idle street talk. Your Highness bears the weight of the state and should judge men with the art of a ruler, not merely by ‘good’ or ‘evil.’ Emperor Taizong of Tang said: Use the wise for their schemes, the foolish for their strength, the brave for their might, the timid for their caution. Combine all—wise, foolish, brave, timid—and use them accordingly. A good craftsman uses every piece of wood; a wise ruler leaves no talent unused. So this man’s worth lies entirely in Your Highness’s method of driving him. If used well, he becomes a good official sheltering the people; used poorly, he becomes a vermin spreading chaos.”
Huang Ting, listening from the side, was silently amazed.
In the past, when he advised the former Crown Prince, he had to mince his words, soften them, and warm them up before daring to speak. Even then, the Crown Prince might not listen.
Shen Zhi was twelve years younger than the former Crown Prince, at an age full of youthful vigor. Surely he needed more coaxing.
Just as Huang Ting was about to speak tactfully to ease the atmosphere, he saw Shen Zhi already resting his chin on his hand and gazing at Wen Zhuo with those deep, dark eyes, not even blinking.
A smile curled at the corner of Shen Zhi’s mouth: “Teacher, how many books have you memorized? You must have studied very hard in the past, right? Did the teacher give you a little red flower for every class?”
Wen Zhuo’s eyes widened slightly. He turned his head and glanced at him, a hint of confusion in his brows, as if puzzled why he suddenly asked about this, but he still answered seriously: “What is a little red flower? But indeed, my teacher was quite fond of me.”
Shen Zhi sighed emotionally: “You speak with such good reasoning. If I were the teacher, I’d be fond of you too.”
Wen Zhuo’s heart suddenly trembled. He hurriedly turned away, looking out through the carriage curtain.
He knew Shen Zhi’s “fondness” only referred to a teacher’s preference for an outstanding disciple, but upon hearing those two words, he still couldn’t remain completely unmoved.
Huang Ting, beside them, was already deeply moved beyond words, dabbing tears from the corners of his eyes with his sleeve.
In ancient times, Emperor Taizong of Tang was already regarded as a peerless emperor simply for being able to accept Wei Zheng’s blunt remonstrances. Now Shen Zhi, not only unbothered by Wen Zhuo’s corrections, actually showered his minister with praise—such a ruler was more precious than gold.
Just then, the sound of hooves came from far to near, chaotic and urgent.
He Ruqing, leading a group of large and small officials from Liangzhou, came trotting out to welcome them.
“Fifth Highness! Chief Wen! Your humble servant heard of Your Highness’s arrival and rushed to clean the government office and clear the main hall to accommodate you two lords. So I delayed the welcome. Please forgive me, forgive me!”
He Ruqing had a broad face, two slightly upturned thick lips, and a pair of small, shifty eyes. He looked a bit greasy, but that didn’t stop him from wearing a beaming smile. When he bowed, he looked exactly like a chubby Maitreya.
Upon hearing this, Shen Zhi let out a low laugh first, then turned to exchange a glance with Wen Zhuo beside him before lifting the curtain and stepping steadily down from the carriage.
He stood tall and straight, his ink-black robes fluttering in the twilight. Casually, he asked, “What’s there to clean the government office for? I am here on His Majesty’s order to take grain from the granary. As soon as the supplies are loaded, we set off immediately. When did I say I would stay in your Liangzhou?”
He Ruqing’s smile froze abruptly. Then he tilted his head up toward the sky, indicating the setting sun on the horizon, his tone both troubled and ingratiating: “Oh, oh, look at the time, Your Highness. It’s almost dark. How could your precious person deign to stay in a shabby post house? Why not rest in Liangzhou? Your servant has prepared a modest feast so that you and the Chief can eat well and sleep soundly. You can deal with the grain matters tomorrow without delay.”
Before Shen Zhi could agree, He Ruqing turned his head and shouted sternly to his subordinates: “Is the banquet at Swallow Cloud Tower ready? His Highness and Chief Wen have traveled a long way. If we don’t serve them well, there’s no redemption even in death!”
A pan with a goatee squeezed out from the crowd, nodding and scraping: “Reply to Prefect, everything is ready! All the signature dishes from the tower. The owner dismissed all the diners to serve the two distinguished guests alone!”
“Does Prefect He mean,” a clear, cold voice slowly sounded, as Wen Zhuo bent down and unhurriedly stepped out of the carriage curtain, “that the people of Xingjing and Jingzhou are going hungry, while the grain soldiers are waiting outside the city, and Your Highness and I are supposed to abandon them to feast and drink with you here?”
He was draped in a fox-fur cloak, the fluff at the collar gently swaying, his trailing robe flowing in the wind.
He Ruqing glanced at him and stood frozen, dumbstruck.
He had long heard that Chief Wen’s captivating beauty was like jade. Indeed, his face was even more ravishing than the sunset glow, and even his cold eyes carried an indescribable charm.
Compared to him, He Ruqing’s four concubines at home were utterly vulgar and unworthy of mention.
Where had He Ruqing ever seen such a stunning sight? For a moment, he forgot gender, and his soul nearly flew away.
It wasn’t until Shen Zhi reached out, pulled Wen Zhuo to his side, and pressed his riding crop against his cheek, saying flatly, “Prefect He, have you seen enough?” that He Ruqing finally snapped out of his daze.
Panicked, he shrank his neck, lowering his head until it nearly buried itself in the ground, his eyes fixed on the yellow earth beneath his feet: “Your Highness… Your servant knows you and the Chief worry about the disaster victims, but this is the heartfelt intention of our Liangzhou government office!”
“No more nonsense.” Shen Zhi’s tone was light but carried an undeniable authority. “I want to leave with the grain now.”
The riding crop in his hand hovered by He Ruqing’s face for another three seconds before he graciously moved it away.
“…Yes, understood, Your Highness!” He Ruqing, as if pardoned, answered hurriedly. But while his mouth agreed smoothly, his feet seemed nailed to the ground, not moving an inch.
Shen Zhi raised an eyebrow.
In this stalemate, another burst of hoofbeats sounded from not far away.
This time, the sound was even more urgent but orderly. It kicked up rolling dust, galloping from the other side of Liangzhou City with impressive momentum.
In the last faint light of the sky, through the dust, a sturdy figure could be vaguely discerned.
The man was clad in heavy armor, with unruly hair and beard, a coarse square face exuding an air of innate authority. This was none other than Shi Liangui, the Liangzhou regional commander.
Wen Zhuo understood now: He Ruqing’s earlier stalling and rambling was all to wait for Shi Liangui to arrive.
With the Crown Prince deposed, He Ruqing, whose information had been blocked, thought Prince Xian had already won. So he hastened to curry favor.
As for Shi Liangui arriving late, he was waiting for instructions from Prince Xian’s side.
Unfortunately, they had set out too early, and Prince Xian still thought they were going to Mianzhou to borrow grain, so Shi Liangui was destined to receive no orders.
Shi Liangui dismounted and still tried to delay. He saluted Shen Zhi and Wen Zhuo: “Fifth Highness, Chief Wen. I was just drilling troops at the parade ground when I heard of your arrival for grain and came immediately. But Liangzhou is a thousand li away from Xingjing and Jingzhou; the roads are treacherous. Why the sudden transfer of grain from us?”
He Ruqing, slippery as ever, unwilling to offend anyone, silently stepped back to watch the situation.
Shen Zhi smiled faintly and asked, “Are you asking me to explain to you?”
Shi Liangui’s expression changed slightly, and he forced a stiff reply: “How would I dare! It’s just that this matter came too suddenly, and the entire Liangzhou government is completely unprepared.”
“That’s precisely the point—making sure you’re completely unprepared.” Shen Zhi’s smile remained, but his words cut straight to the heart, hiding nothing. “Otherwise, if Prince Xian gives the word, how would you make trouble for me?”
He Ruqing stared in shock, his small eyes nearly popping out of their sockets. Having spent half his life in officialdom, he was used to innuendo—he had never encountered such blunt directness.
Shi Liangui was also frozen on the spot. He had never dealt with anyone like Shen Zhi, who played by no rules.
His face alternated between green and white, his bushy beard unable to mask the dramatic shift. After a long moment, he managed to squeeze out: “Your Highness jokes. Why suddenly mention Prince Xian? As a member of the imperial clan with the world at heart, how could he cause trouble for you?”
“Best not.” Shen Zhi didn’t bother with further talk. After dropping that bombshell, his tone turned heavy, striking the core. “Take me to the granary.”
Shi Liangui still clung to a sliver of hope, trying to procrastinate a little longer. So he said, “Your Highness may not know that the government granary, the Ever-Normal Granary, the Reserve Granary, and the Military Granary each have their own procedures for opening. Inventorying grain, checking ledgers, loading carts—every step is cumbersome. Even if the granary commissioner works day and night, it will take at least three days to finish.”
Shen Zhi truly didn’t know about this. He immediately turned to Wen Zhuo beside him.
A cold smile flickered in Wen Zhuo’s eyes. “Conveniently, I am here to streamline the process for you. Before we set out, I anticipated that these Liangzhou officials would be incompetent and delay the relief. That’s why I brought grain soldiers—veterans from the southern front. Their grain management skills far exceed ordinary men. They can load all the grain from your Liangzhou granaries within three hours.”
Wen Zhuo paused and then beckoned to Jiang Man’nü.
Receiving the cue, Jiang Man’nü quickly took out the Imperial Sword of Authority from the carriage and handed it to Wen Zhuo.
Wen Zhuo took the sword, studying it with interest as he said calmly, “To prevent anyone with ulterior motives from further stalling, the Fifth Highness specifically requested this sword from His Majesty. Any officials along the route who delay the relief can be executed first and reported later. Commander Shi, do you still have anything to say?”
Shi Liangui: “…”
He Ruqing backed away repeatedly, shouting from afar, “Oh, what more is there to say? Hurry up and call the granary commissioner! Take His Highness and Chief Wen to the government granary at once!”
Shi Liangui turned his head—the man was gone. When he looked again, He Ruqing had already retreated thirty paces.
Shi Liangui: “You—”
After all, the prefect still had the final say in Liangzhou. Even with military power, Shi Liangui wasn’t foolish enough to lead troops against a prince.
He followed Prince Xian for a better life, not to be beheaded by the Imperial Sword.
He could only watch helplessly as He Ruqing summoned people to open the government granary, then secretly instructed a trusted subordinate to speed to the capital with a letter.
Wen Zhuo was right. In six hours, the grain soldiers had loaded all the grain they could carry.
By now, the sky was pitch black. Campfires blazed, and small puddles on the streets had turned to ice. The wet mud had become as hard as stone.
He Ruqing again urged them to stay overnight in Liangzhou—this time sincerely.
But Shen Zhi’s talk of traveling day and night was no joke.
He knew all too well the devastation of the locust plague in the history of the Great Qian.
Back then, the task fell to Prince Xian. He took the disaster relief grain from Liangzhou and spent nearly a month traveling to Xingjing and Jingzhou.
By the time he arrived, the two prefectures were littered with corpses, and cannibalism was rampant. Under extreme hunger, people had lost all morality and humanity. The region had become a living hell.
After arriving, Prince Xian’s actions, ostensibly for relief, were effectively suppression.
Those starving people who fought over grain were labeled rebels, and those who were forced to sell their children were suppressed under the laws of the Great Qian.
The number of people Prince Xian killed was not much different from those who died of starvation. The disaster wasn’t relieved—it simply ceased to exist.
History would later record a single line: The three prefectures of Xing, Jing, and Mian were once desolate and nearly turned into empty cities. When Emperor Shengde relocated the people from Ping and Liang to settle there, this place gradually saw smoke and human activity again.
Even so, after returning to the capital, Prince Xian was praised by Emperor Shunyuan for his meritorious service in relief.
Before he transmigrated, Shen Zhi had felt no deep sense of the lives reduced to fleeting words in history books—a few sparse lines buried hundreds of thousands, even millions of lives.
But now, he could no longer remain detached.
Because those lives, as light as goose feathers, were Granny Wang who had made jujube rice cakes for ten years in Huiyangmen’s small shop, the loud-mouthed shopkeeper on East Street in Guanqi Alley, the honest carpenter who repaired houses for Yongning Marquis Manor, and that couple with poor manners who argued late at night…
They flashed by, but they remained vividly in his memory. He wanted them to live.