Chapter 66#

With two soft thuds, Liu Kangren was escorted by two guards over the wall, tumbling to a halt on the hard, dry ground.

He was still shocked and bewildered when he realized that the silhouette before him, obscured by the night, was actually his own residence in Mianzhou Prefecture!

Just as Liu Kangren was about to ask a question, a robust young woman strode over. Without a word, she seized the back of his collar, lifted him as effortlessly as a chick, and carried him straight into the main hall.

As Liu Kangren marveled at the girl’s astonishing strength, he was thrown to the ground with a “thud” and no ceremony.

Dazed from the fall, he struggled for a moment before propping himself up on the ground and lifting his head. The room was pitch black, the night outside so thick it seemed almost solid, and he could barely make out two figures seated ahead.

“You… you all…” Liu Kangren’s voice was hoarse and dry as he lay prostrate, muttering uncertainly.

“Liu Kangren, someone should have informed you of my identity by now.” A cold, clear voice rang out from the darkness, devoid of any warmth, and showed no sign of helping him to his feet.

Hearing this voice, Liu Kangren couldn’t help but conjure the image of a refined scholar.

He had never seen Wen Zhuo in person. When Wen Zhuo was still preparing for the imperial examinations, Liu Kangren was already in court. By the time Wen Zhuo entered officialdom, Liu Kangren had long been exiled to Mianzhou, unable to return home for years.

But the reputation of the Hanlin Academy’s Chancellor—the head of the Imperial Academy—had long since reached his ears like thunder.

According to legend, this man was the one the emperor trusted most. Though he was not in the Grand Secretariat and had no dealings with the Six Ministries, and had achieved little in his four years in the capital, he was still known for his unrestrained behavior and frequent visits to the pleasure quarters. Yet, he had been promoted four consecutive times in four years, becoming a uniquely favored official since the founding of the Great Qian dynasty.

Others said he was as beautiful as jade, erudite and knowledgeable about both ancient and modern times. Everyone who met him was utterly captivated and could not forget him.

But for Liu Kangren, trapped in Mianzhou, he knew another aspect of Wen Zhuo: he was the son of Wen Yingjing.

Liu Kangren had never liked Wen Yingjing, and he harbored a prejudice against anyone connected to him. Now, after being imprisoned for two months and hearing that the Southern Inspection Governor was Wen Yingjing’s son, his despair deepened.

He didn’t know what these people wanted, but he had no hope left for his own fate.

“I’ve heard you are Governor Wen.” Liu Kangren slowly knelt upright, his bony back hunched, his head bowed low, his tone flat and emotionless.

Under his coarse, filthy prison clothes, his protruding shoulder blades were as sharp as blades, pushing the fabric high into peaks.

The night grew colder, and his hands and feet were already red and swollen, yet he remained motionless against the icy ground.

His only lingering doubt was who the person beside Wen Zhuo could be.

Sitting on equal footing with the Emperor-appointed Governor and remaining silent throughout, only a tall, broad silhouette was visible.

“Do you know why I brought you here?” Wen Zhuo’s voice deepened, carrying an oppressive authority.

“…Could it be on His Majesty’s orders?” Liu Kangren replied cautiously.

Once a proud man, after ten years of grinding hardship and torment, he was left with nothing but humility and dejection.

So, facing this governor who was nearly twenty years his junior, he adopted the lowest possible posture.

“No.” Wen Zhuo’s rejection was cold.

“Then this guilty official… does not know.” Liu Kangren’s voice was low, his tone unreadable.

“Liu Kangren, given your crimes, you are beyond redemption. Once Lou Changsui’s petition for execution arrives, your beheading will be certain. However, during my secret investigation in Mianzhou, I have discovered many anomalies that require someone with inside knowledge to clarify.” Wen Zhuo paused for a moment, sensing the change in Liu Kangren’s breathing, before continuing unhurriedly, “This is your last chance to speak. If you deceive me, you know the consequences.”

Liu Kangren was silent for a moment before asking softly, “May I ask if the Governor is indeed the son of Wen Yingjing? If I speak the truth, will you truly be willing to listen?”

“What is Wen Yingjing to compare with the Chancellor of the Hanlin Academy? Liu Kangren, you are the son of a Duke. How can you believe everything others tell you?”

The person next to Wen Zhuo finally spoke. His voice was even deeper than Wen Zhuo’s, but his tone was casual and carefree, clearly a young gentleman.

This person could interrupt Wen Zhuo at will, implying a high status, yet his words carried a hint of respect for Wen Zhuo. Liu Kangren couldn’t decipher his identity.

But it was obvious this person was only an observer, not the interrogator. After that one remark, he fell silent again.

Could it be that Wen Yingjing was merely using the Governor’s name to boost his own standing?

“I am here on His Majesty’s orders to investigate and rectify matters in Mianzhou. Whether Wen Yingjing is related to me or not, if he breaks the law, I will have him executed without mercy.” Wen Zhuo grew impatient with Liu Kangren’s hesitation and indecisiveness. “If you have something to say, say it now. Once Lou Changsui’s men search here, you won’t have the chance to speak even if you want to.”

What a slow, ponderous man. How had he ever been chosen to lead an army?

Liu Kangren’s heart stirred. The guards had already told him that Lou Changsui had long wanted him dead and had even bribed his former subordinates to set a deadly trap. It was Wen Zhuo, sensing something amiss, who had risked rescuing him.

He was still alive solely thanks to this Governor Wen’s intervention.

Liu Kangren slowly raised his head, his disheveled hair falling away to reveal red-rimmed eyes.

He took a deep breath, his cracked lips moving as he suppressed the heavy burden he carried. “A man near death has no reason to lie. If you have questions, sir, please ask.”

Wen Zhuo looked toward the door. By his estimate, Lou Changsui must have already discovered the change. He was probably furious, gathering men to search the city.

He withdrew his gaze and asked, “Did you really steal grain from the prefectural granary?”

“Yes.” Liu Kangren answered without hesitation, offering no defense.

Wen Zhuo didn’t even raise an eyebrow.

It was as he had expected. Liu Kangren had indeed committed a capital crime.

He closed his eyes, thinking to himself. The law was strict. Regardless of any hidden circumstances, breaking the law was something the emperor could never tolerate.

He had managed to twist the law in Mo Shu’s case, using “the commander in the field is not bound by the emperor’s orders” and procedural errors in suppressing rebels. But Liu Kangren’s crime was irrefutable.

If emotion replaced law, the foundation of the state would crumble. No matter how it was argued, Liu Kangren had to die, unless he could render an extraordinary service.

But for a man who had suffered a devastating defeat in the southern border and fallen into a trap in Mianzhou, how difficult that would be.

“Why did you knowingly break the law?” Wen Zhuo’s tone suddenly grew harsh, carrying a note of frustration, as if disappointed in a promising student.

He resented Liu Kangren’s incompetence in the southern border and his current passivity in allowing the likes of Wen Yingjing and Lou Changsui to run rampant.

Liu Kangren let out a bitter laugh, his bony shoulders trembling with the sound. “I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t live with myself otherwise.”

He sighed faintly, as if in a daze. “In the past, I lost the southern border campaign, causing countless casualties among Great Qian’s soldiers and displacing countless people. Thanks to His Majesty’s grace, I survived. But now, seeing the suffering of Mianzhou’s people, with hundreds starving to death every day… Governor, do you know that in every Guanyin temple in Mianzhou, refugees kneel, begging heaven for salvation? But they often die right there, beneath the statues of the gods. Those who come later watch the bodies being dragged out, yet they still place their last shred of hope in cold, lifeless deities.”

“And those in Mianzhou who still have some grain douse their doorsteps with cold water every night, or else the next day they will be swarmed by hungry, desperate refugees.” He paused, his voice growing heavier and more bitter. “Governor, have you ever heard of ‘mutiny’? It’s a sudden chaos in a military camp where soldiers lose control, order collapses, and they turn on each other. As a commander, I feared mutiny above all. But in Mianzhou, six months ago, among the huddled refugees, it happened every day, every hour, with countless casualties…”

“What’s more, there were despicable, monstrous people who would throw a basket of steamed buns into the crowd of refugees, letting them fight and claw for them. The ‘winner’ would get enough food to survive. They called it the ‘Dog Show.’ And the one who invented this game was Wen Yingjing’s youngest son, Wen Xu.” Liu Kangren’s voice trembled with deep hatred, his whole body shaking with anger.

“I am a guilty man. The southern border incident haunts me like a nightmare, tormenting me every night. I wanted to keep my head down and live out my remaining years in peace, but I couldn’t bear to see the people fall before me again while I stood by, helpless and useless.” Tears streamed down his face, following the grimy lines of his cheeks, flowing through the ravines of his suffering, and falling heavily onto the cold ground. “I was stupid. Even back then, I gave my all and still caused disaster. But even someone like me doesn’t want to stand by and do nothing while innocent people suffer… do nothing…”

He couldn’t think of a better way, one that would let him escape unscathed and still save the people.

In the end, he could only choose the most foolish, the most desperate path: steal grain to provide relief, sacrifice himself, and trade his own life for the livelihood of tens of thousands.

The main hall fell into dead silence, broken only by Liu Kangren’s suppressed sobs.

Shen Zheng had long abandoned his casual demeanor. His tall, straight figure stood still, slightly tense.

Wen Zhuo remained silent, his palm slowly tightening, pressing against his sleeve.

He didn’t want to tell Liu Kangren that, under Lou Changsui’s careful manipulation, the people he had risked his life to save now hated him to the bone, wishing they could devour his flesh. Meanwhile, Wen Yingjing, who had reaped all the benefits, was hailed as a “living Buddha” and showered with gratitude.

This reality was too cruel for this honest, slow-witted, kind-hearted man.

After another moment, the sound of scattered, cursing servants echoed through the streets, and firelight faintly illuminated the paper windowpanes.

Liu Qiyin quietly slipped out to investigate. Wen Zhuo lowered his voice further and continued, “Since the disaster in Mianzhou was already this severe, why didn’t you immediately report it to the court? Why risk stealing grain? Your father is Duke Liu. Even if the Ministry of Personnel and the Ministry of Revenue obstructed you, your memorial would certainly reach the emperor’s ears.”

Liu Kangren shook his head, then suddenly remembered that Wen Zhuo might not be able to see him in the dark. He quickly explained: “Governor should know the regulations for disaster relief in our dynasty. Two key steps are required. First, field surveys to determine the proportion of affected farmland. Second, population counts for each household. Let me start with farmland assessment. If half of the farmland is affected, or the actual harvest is reduced by half, it’s called a ‘five-part disaster.’ If 60% of the farmland is affected, or the harvest is reduced by 40%, it’s a ‘six-part disaster.’ The difference between five and six parts is a matter of life and death. According to court regulations, a five-part disaster receives no relief; a six-part disaster must be relieved.”

Wen Zhuo had also overseen disaster relief before. He knew what Liu Kangren was about to say.

Although Shen Zheng understood this policy of the Great Qian dynasty, he had never studied it in depth and knew little of its flaws.

Upon hearing this, he frowned. “As you described, Mianzhou’s suffering far exceeds a six-part disaster. Why was relief delayed?”

Liu Kangren sighed, his voice full of helplessness. “The rules are clear, but in practice, due to limited official manpower, it’s impossible to inspect every field. However, they can’t rely solely on what the people say. Refugees often overstate the damage to reduce taxes and claim relief grain. If every prefecture did this, the national treasury would be drained, and the Great Qian dynasty could not survive.”

“Furthermore, the extent of the disaster can change rapidly. It takes a month for reports to reach the capital. In that time, the situation may have completely transformed. The people exaggerate because they’re afraid that if they report honestly, the disaster will worsen before they can get help.”

Shen Zheng’s frown deepened. This was indeed a dilemma.

“As for population counts,” Liu Kangren continued, “the court’s taxes are heavy, and Mianzhou bears the additional burden of supplying tribute spices. Many batches are rejected each year, leading to deficits in the prefectural treasury. The people pay taxes per person, so they prefer to hide rather than be registered by the government. Under normal circumstances, this might be tolerable. But in times of disaster, when the court needs to provide relief, the registered population falls far short of the actual number of refugees. The grain in the backup granaries is a drop in the bucket. To recount would require more manpower, which is lacking. By my estimate, over the past ten years, Mianzhou’s actual population has probably increased several-fold.”

Shen Zheng: “So you mean—”

Liu Kangren had been suppressed for so long that now, given the chance, he couldn’t help but speak freely, cutting in: “I mean that whether you look at the official household registers or the disaster assessment records, Lou Changsui appears to have done nothing wrong. On the surface, Mianzhou has a five-part disaster. According to the law, no relief is needed. Whether you, Governor, came, or His Majesty himself came, the evidence is genuine and impeccable. Under these circumstances, how could I present a memorial without proof and drag my father into it?”

“He’s certainly shrewd,” Wen Zhuo sneered. “Go on. How did you decide to steal the grain?”

“The disaster was imminent, but Lou Changsui turned a blind eye. I knew that ‘where there is disaster, there will be chaos.’ I begged him several times to open the backup granaries and the prefectural granary for relief. As long as the official granaries weren’t touched, his culpability would have been much lighter. But he refused to take any risk.” Liu Kangren paused, his tone carrying a hint of anger. “It was around that time that the prefectural granary suddenly reported a rat infestation. It was said that a nest of fat, well-fed rats had emerged. I couldn’t stand it any longer. There was grain, yet he would rather feed it to rats than to people.”

Wen Zhuo pressed on: “So you took the risk?”

Shen Zheng recalled the history of the Great Qian and said helplessly, “I’m afraid it wasn’t that simple.”

Liu Kangren was surprised by the sharpness of this unknown person. He nodded. “Correct. I had initially discussed with someone about secretly swapping the grain with sand, so it wouldn’t be discovered immediately. If I was lucky, we might get through this locust plague, and when the next year’s harvest came, I could secretly return the grain. But when I opened the prefectural granary—”

Shen Zheng interjected: “You found there was hardly any grain inside.”

“Exactly!” Liu Kangren’s voice trembled. “I was utterly stunned! There was very little grain left, and what remained was old grain, spoiled grain, and chaff. Someone had already replaced it. The moment I opened that granary without authorization, I had lost my innocence. I could no longer report to His Majesty with integrity!”

“The matter of the rats in the granary was deliberately set up by Lou Changsui.” Wen Zhuo was frankly speechless at Liu Kangren’s gullibility. “He wanted to provoke you into secretly opening the granary to steal grain. Once you made a move, the blame for the empty granary would be yours.”

“By then, Mianzhou had been blockaded by Lou Changsui. I couldn’t send any messages out, and I had no proper standing to act.” Liu Kangren said quietly. “I had to accept my fate. I used the old grain to make congee, hoping more people would survive. Lou Changsui didn’t stop me. He wanted to solidify my guilt, to make everyone in Mianzhou believe I was the one who stole the grain. This went on for four months. When the backup granaries, the prefectural granary, and the official granaries were all empty, not even chaff left, Lou Changsui finally arrested me.”

“I admit all these crimes. The only thing I resent is that the real rat, Lou Changsui, remains safe and sound! Otherwise, I wouldn’t have ’escaped’ with Wang Liu and the others.” There was no self-pity in Liu Kangren’s tone, only a deep sense of guilt. He seemed to believe that his final path to death was deserved, the will of heaven, so that he could finally atone for the soldiers of the southern border.

After hearing this, Wen Zhuo turned the edge of his sleeve between his fingers. “Think carefully. I don’t believe Lou Changsui is flawless. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be afraid of my arrival.”

Liu Kangren shook his head at first, but then, as he faced the critical moment, a sudden flash of inspiration struck. “If there’s anything, there was one thing. A few years ago, Lou Changsui suddenly cracked down on public order in Mianzhou with extreme severity. No matter how minor the offense, people were thrown into jail. In a short time, every local prison was overflowing. Prisoners had no place to sit, let alone sleep; they had to stand packed together. Our dynasty has a tradition of ‘redeeming crimes by providing grain.’ To get out of prison, the people had to sell their land in exchange for grain to hand over to the authorities. Those lands all fell into the hands of incense merchants. The one who got the most land was Wen Yingjing.”

At this point, Liu Kangren’s voice carried a note of mockery. “Wen Yingjing claimed to be your biological father, Governor, with witnesses from his hometown village of Liangping. All the officials in Mianzhou, big and small, treated him with the utmost respect. The common people feared and respected him in equal measure. With this land, he hired farmers who had lost their own fields and planted them entirely with storax trees. The court requires a minimum number of grain fields, so they exploited a loophole: they planted a single rice seedling next to each storax tree and claimed the land was farmland. Lou Changsui always turned a blind eye to this. Isn’t that a fault of his?”

Shen Zheng understood instantly. The disaster in Mianzhou was a chain reaction.

Prince Xian treated Mianzhou as his personal cash cow, ordering the granary officials to strictly review tribute goods, resulting in large quantities of substandard spices. The court also set a strict deadline for tribute deliveries. The first to be held responsible for any delay was Prefect Lou Changsui. Under Prince Xian’s pressure, he had no choice but to force the incense merchants to offer better goods to the court.

The merchants’ profits were squeezed by Prince Xian. Unwilling to work an entire year for nothing, they turned their eyes to the people’s farmland. Converting grain fields to incense orchards could increase production, earn huge profits, and even be exported overseas. So they colluded with Lou Changsui to seize the people’s land through a combination of chicanery and force.

The people became tenants, growing incense and trading it for the merchants. But a year’s labor only provided enough to eat; they had no means to pay taxes. So they concealed their existence during population counts.

Over ten years, a large number of people drifted away from the household registers. This, in turn, meant that the disaster severity was underestimated during emergency assessments, and the court could not distribute grain according to regulations.

All these consequences compounded into the tragedy now unfolding in Mianzhou.

Liu Kangren was caught in a dilemma. He had no choice but to gamble on stealing grain for relief, taking all the blame onto himself. But he had fallen into Lou Changsui’s trap instead, becoming the scapegoat.

Wen Zhuo asked softly, “What does Your Highness think?”

Liu Kangren was taken aback.

Your Highness? Could the person before him be a prince?

In the dim light, Shen Zheng helplessly pinched the bridge of his nose. “Reinvestigate the farmland and population registers. If what Liu Kangren says is true, Wanshan, don’t be lenient. Kill those who deserve it.”

Liu Kangren was stunned again.

A prince addressing the Governor by his style name, Wanshan? Judging by the tone and status, could it be… Prince Xian?